I Will Not

A story set in the Spider-Man movieverse, immediately after the end of Spider-Man 2, with some inspiration from the Marvel Ultimate and Original universes. (meaning, I read too many comics, and if for some reason something shows up that is from the comicverse and not the movieverse, that's why. I will do whatever it takes to tell my story…whatever that ends up being.)

William Bishop is an original character. In other words, he's mine. The rest of the characters are copyright Marvel Comics.

.the morning after, day two.

"Go get 'em, Tiger."

Peter smiled, looking back over his shoulder, still tasting her in his mouth from the kiss they'd shared a mere heartbeat prior. His spirit leapt, and he turned back to the open window, shot a web, and followed, swinging out into the open air.

She loves me, she loves me, she loves me, she's mine…

For the space of a second, he'd forgotten the reason he'd left so quickly. His heart was racing, his mind barely keeping up. Everything had been falling to pieces—yesterday? So little time ago? And now, he was following his dream, and MJ loved him. Loved him.

"Yeah! Woo hoo!"

Ah, Peter. You left because there were sirens… pay attention.

"Oh, yeah." He continued in the direction of the noise, just as two FBI helicopters flew past, nearly cutting into his lines. Who the heck taught those guys to fly? They almost cut me in half. He nearly smacked into the side of a building when he realized where they were headed. The pier. But the mess would have been under control by now, right? Why was the FBI involved?

His spider-sense was screaming at him. That sensation you're feeling is that of déjà vu, or better yet, the world going to pieces. Again.

"Aw, no. Now what?"

-

"I WANT YOU TO BRING IT ALL TO ME! IT BELONGS TO ME!" Harry Osborne slammed the phone down on his desk so hard it threatened to crack the glass top. When it didn't even chip, he picked up the entire phone and base and slammed it down again. Snarling, he repeated this endeavor several more times until the glass started to spiderweb.

He yowled in anger. Spiders! If this last mess wasn't enough, if his father's company going to shit wasn't enough, my friend, my BEST friend, Peter Parker is… he killed… he's-

The phone rang again, slightly off-tone from the bashing it had been put through. Harry snatched it up. "What?"

"Mr. Osborne," the man's voice on the other end stammered slightly, having just been the receiver of an ear-piercing tirade moments before, "the NYPD won't let us go near the site. They are still saying that it's off limits to us, whether we own the rights to what's left of the machine or not. I brought the paperwork and the contracts you told me to—"

"Damnit! Why won't anything work out? Why are all of you so goddamned incompetent? I'll come down there myself. Just—just wait for me." He slammed the phone again, and sighed, massaging his temples. Is this why my father was… nuts?

He thought it would be simple enough. Send a team of OsCorp's employees down to the pier to pick up what could be salvaged of the late Dr. Octavius' fusion reactor. Notes, schematics, blueprints, spare parts… tritium? No, that would probably be at the bottom of the lake with Octavius himself, burned to a cinder. The contract the doctor had signed gave OsCorp full rights to his research and his findings, and that included the fusion reactor itself. Harry would be damned if he was going to give up that easily. He'd salvage something from the mess.

Harry. Avenge me.

No. This will have to be good enough for now, father. I will not kill my best friend.

Funny thing about friends. They don't go killing your parents.

Harry turned on his heel and made for the door, slamming his fist into the wall on the way out. He could hear his father's laughter, echoing in his head.

You'll come around, my son. Yes, you will.

The pier looked worse in the daylight than it had the night before, even with everything caving in and falling down upon itself. There was no inch of the old building that had been left untouched by the destruction the fusion reaction, and its subsequent demise, had brought. People were very busy digging through the mess and surveying the damage. A handful of plainclothes cops stood at the hood of a nondescript sedan, poking through a pile of rubbish that looked like it might have been part of a computer at one point, but it's case was melted and warped. No one looked up or even noticed his arrival.

I don't seem to be needed here, he thought, even though his curiosity was piqued. MJ is back at home, and—

He then caught sight of Harry Osborne, striding through the throng of police and others who were attempting to sift through the rubble. Peter decided to take a closer look. His super sharp hearing picked out what was being said, even though it was pretty easy to guess, because his friend was nearly screaming.

"Who's in charge here? Do you know who I am? Bring me the man in charge!"

"And who is asking?"

Harry turned, red faced, to the smartly-dressed woman who had spoken. "Harry Osborne, OsCorp Special Projects. Who in hell are you?"

"The 'man' in charge. Jocasta Gale, F.B.I." She fixed him with a dark stare, which he ignored.

"Brilliant! Tell your people I require access to my company's investment. Horner…" Harry was gesturing to a nervous man with an overloaded briefcase, a cell phone, and a harried demeanor, who had been staring off into the water at the edge of the pier. Peter noted this, and figured he'd take a look after Harry was through with his tantrum.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that. It's all evidence in our ongoing investigation. You'll need to clear out. Now."

"You can't do that! That is my—OsCorp's—property!"

"Impounded. I'm sorry, Mr…" Peter wasn't sure if she was toying with Harry, or if she was really too distracted to care about what his friend was on about. He felt a pang of pity for Harry. He'd lost his dad, now his dad's company was sinking in financial ruin, and all his son was trying to do was save what he could, however he could. Unfortunately, it was too late. Perhaps he would have to step in and rescue his friend from possibly making things worse.

"Osborne! Harry Osborne! OsCorp! Horner! Bring me the contracts. They need to see the proof, this is mine, OsCorp's property…" Desperate now, but Gale wasn't listening. She had turned her back to him and was talking to two policemen, effectively dismissing him.

Peter ducked into a nearby boat house changed into civilian clothes. Spider-Man, incognito. He smirked to himself.

"Harry."

Harry spun around, and Peter was frightened by what he saw in his friend's eyes. Fear, desperation, and something that looked very close to snapping. I'm not the only one who's life has crumbled these past few months.

"Don't… don't touch me. Just… don't."

Peter watched his friend retreat into a waiting Mercedes and take off. For a few moments, there was nothing else in the world but the sight of the car speeding away from the pier. It felt like his friendship, going somewhere unknown, fast and reckless. Be careful, Harry.

"Hey, kid. You supposed ta be here?" The cop was looking him up and down like an interesting lichen growing on a rock. "This area is off limits. Quit gawkin and go home."

Peter came back to himself, remembering that he'd changed out of the spidey suit. "Ah, yeah. I work for the Daily Bugle. Just taking a look, for the paper. Big mess." He smiled, but the cop didn't follow suit. "They ever find that… crazy scientist?" He winced inwardly at the term, knowing full well that the doctor had been as close to his right mind as he could have been in those last few moments before he'd brought the reactor down upon his own head.

The cop shrugged. "Nah. Probably vaporized or burned up or somethin'. But who cares, right? That looney was a murderer. Saves us time trackin him down and spendin' taxes keepin' 'im housed in jail. Now, get outta here."

Peter glanced off down the dock again, where the man Harry had called Horner had been staring, then turned and jogged back down the street. He'd come back later, when it was quieter. And darker.

-

.ten hours prior, day one.

Father…

…father…

We can't see anything… we're scared…

… help…

Close your eyes. Be still.

We do not want to cease function. We have a purpose. This is not our purpose. We… we don't want to die.

If he had been anywhere else, this development with the AI, their understanding of life in human terms, would have been an exciting breakthrough. Any other time, he would have been in awe of the wonder of his love, science. Oh, but the warmth of the water was complete. He just longed for the quiet. But he knew it would come. Eventually.

Father… why are you falling? Why are you fighting us?

He opened his eyes, and saw his star, his sun, sinking below him, twisted metal and shrapnel from the ruined building and pier being sucked into it. He was falling into his own beloved creation, unable to save himself if he wanted to. The actuators screamed in protest as he started to rotate, and be dragged backwards by the arms that had helped create what would become their destruction. The pull on his spine was uncomfortable, but not unbearable. .

I'm coming, Rosie. All these sins, absolved. I hope…

Father, father fatherfatherwakeup do not shut down fatherwewanttoLIVE!

His back slammed into something hard, and the actuators wailed. The pull on his spine increased dramatically, and his eyes flew open. He had drifted into a mess of wooden cross beams and other debris that was caught up on a ledge above the chasm his sun had fallen into, and the arms were still being sucked in. It felt as if his entire spine was being ripped out of his back.

Father... we do not want to die… we do not want you to die…

He gritted his teeth in pain, his lungs aching for air, waiting for his back to snap, for the entire mess he was trapped in to break free and plunge into the fire, something, anything but time crawling, screaming—

We will not let you die.

Our father.

There was a weird, horrible tearing, ripping sound, and a feeling like every joint in his body had pulled free from every socket, and an all-encompassing pain like nothing he'd ever experienced like white light fire—

-is this what it is like to die?

-and then nothing.