You cannot possibly imagine the guilt and the pain you feel when you know it was just too late. That young girl had her whole life in front of her. And it burnt down in seconds. Spider-Man didn't feel like web-swinging home. Instead, a plain human being with tears pouring down inside of him slowly swung on a rope toward Mary Jane and her apartment. Those flames. That color. The color of hell. Damn it all. No matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, he would always have situations like these. When he cried. In the dark.
He knew if he thought about it, he'd literally make himself sick. All he focused on was Mary Jane. He hoped the house wasn't on fire. You see, he tried to make a joke. But it just ended up in more pain. Great going, Spidey. Within a few minutes, Spider-Man crawled through an open window, and was consumed by his beloved Mary Jane.
"Oh, Petey! Are you all right? What happened? I saw on the television-" "I'm fine Mary Jane. No cuts, bruises or burns." "But your ego and emotions have certainly taken damage." He sighed, flipping his mask off and landing on the couch. "You know, huh?" "Peter, everyone isn't invincible. The Fantastic Four. The Avengers. You. Your not immortal." "I try to be. Oh, M.J., she was so young. So scared. No one should go through something like that, Baby, no one." Mary Jane gently sat next to her boyfriend and rubbed his shoulders, trying to make him relax. But she knew he'd be emotionally sore for a day or two.
"Let your conscious be your guide." She said. He flicked away her hands and got up. "I think Jiminy Cricket took the day off. Forget it, I'm hitting the hey." He moaned as he slammed the bedroom door and fell asleep from, well, everything that went wrong today. A tear rolled down Mary Jane's face. Ever since she found out about Peter being Spider-Man, she tried to be there for him when the going got tough. But it was so hard when he was like this, and he didn't want anything but to be alone. It made her think how hard it really was to be a super hero.
When Peter Parker woke up, usually he had a big breakfast made by Mary Jane, and then he went on patrol in his costume. But instead, Peter threw on jeans and a polo, grabbed an apple, and slammed the front door. Mary Jane had been preparing breakfast, ham and eggs. She knew what was wrong. Duh.
Peter barged into the Daily Bugle, everyone looking at him, like they knew what was wrong. Peter sat down at his desk, facing photos of Spider-Man. He flipped them all over and brought out his phone. M.J. He'd totally blown her off. Not that they had had any official plans. But he knew she understood. So he put the phone down.
Jameson walked over to his desk, taking the cigar out of his mouth. As he was about to scream at Parker, Peter looked at him, eye to eye, and said, "Shut the hell up. I'm not putting up with any bullshit today. Is that okay, chuckles?"
Jameson was utterly thrown back. He couldn't imagine why Peter had spoken to him that way. "Not to be disrespectful," Jameson said, completing Peter's sentence the way he would've liked it. "Parker, what the hell's wrong? Girl trouble?" "You could say that." Peter said, remembering the teens petrified eyes. Jameson put a hand on his shoulder. "Parker, I need some shots of Spider-Man today!" He said, getting to be his old angry self again. Peter got up from his seat. "I don't think Spider-Man will be around a lot. After what happened yesterday." "You were there! And you didn't get pictures!" Peter shook his head. "Spider-Man didn't deserve to relive that moment, Mr. J. That little girl died because he couldn't save her." "You been in touch with him?" Peter nodded. "A bit." Jameson beamed. "Invite him here for an interview. You could even do it, to make him more comfortable." Peter laughed. An interview. Wow. "Mr. Jameson, I don't think he will." "Oh, he will! Or I'll--" "Make his life miserable?" Peter said, taking the cigar from his boss' hand and sticking it into his mouth. "I'll see what I can do."
Peter sulked in his chair. He didn't anticipate on being Spider-Man for a few more days. Now this asshole-excuse him-his boss- wanted an interview. Did J.J. have no common sense? No sincerity? What would Spider-Man say, anyway? "I didn't save the girl, so she died"? But, Peter needed cash. Maybe Spider-Man would do it for a small fee.
Peter stepped out on his lunch break and met up with Mary Jane. "How're you doing, Petey?" She asked as they sat down at the Moonlight Diner. "Okay. Jameson wants you-know-who for an interview." Mary Jane almost spat out her diet coke. "Are you going to?" Peter shrugged. "We do need the cash. And I've got to live with this somehow." Mary Jane nodded as they placed their orders with the nice waitress.
The man next to them was reading the Daily Bugle. As usual, the headline was about Spider-Man. And about yesterday. Peter got the shivers and looked out the window instead. That front-page picture of him on the building did that to most people. Mary Jane clapped her hand over his. "Peter, snap out of it! You hear the word fire and you turn into nut case!" He laughed. She was right. Peter looked at the picture again. To make matters worse, that photo was taken by Eddie Brock. That name rang a bell. Not only was he a rival photographer to Peter, but a plain old rival to Spider-Man. A big one, too. Venom. Now that gave him chills.
Mary Jane snuck something to Peter under the table. It was his Spidey-Suit. "Go change. I'll pay." Peter smiled. He loved the feel of his suit. His suit. Peter walked into the bathroom with the costume hidden under his shirt. He walked into the stall and undressed, then re-dressed in the costume, then into his clothes. Peter walked out, and couldn't seem happier. He planted a big kiss on his love, and headed to work again, signing that stupid song from Snow White. "Heigh- Ho, Heigh-Ho, Its off to work we go!" Peter walked in, all eyes upon him this time. He smiled. Mary Jane, they were all thinking. He nodded, trying to say that everything was okay now. And it was. Sort of.
"Parker! Did you get in touch with Spider-Man?" Peter nodded. "And he'll do it. For a price." Jameson turned bright red. "WHAT! HE THINKS HE CAN GET MONEY FROM ME?" Peter smiled an almost evil smile. "Hey, super heroes need to be paid, too." "Alright! Fine! We need that interview! How much does he want and how does he want to collect his cash?" "He wants five hundred bucks, and he wants you to hand- deliver it to him at the beginning of the interview, and say, 'Why, thank you for your time, Amazing Spider-Man. I really appreciate it, and your contributes to this beautiful city'. Ooh, and he wants you to smile." Jameson was fuming now. People swore they saw smoke coming from his ears.
"If I didn't know better, Parker, I'd say your enjoying this." Jameson said, through his gritting teeth. " Just a little. Want me to write it down?" "Please." He said, still talking through his teeth. Peter felt Spider-Man hysterical inside. But Peter just wrote down that quote he'd thought of on the way over here. He couldn't wait till later. "So, when will he be coming?" "Around noon tomorrow. And I wont be here to take any photos, Jonah. Sorry. I've got a thing with Mary Jane. After what happened before, I can't blow her off." Jameson was the color of a fire truck now. "FINE! FINE!" He said, storming into his office. People heard him cursing through the almost soundproof glass. Whoa. That's angry.
At noon the next day, Spider-Man was swinging through the city wit ha new leash on life. He was happy, and excited for his interview. He landed with a thump on the outside brick wall of the top floor of the Daily Bugle offices, making the workers jump. He knocked on the glass window and Betty Brant came to open it. Betty was a receptionist who never really liked Spider-Man in the first place. "What are you doing here?" She asked, like he was her ex boyfriend. Spider-Man hopped through and put his hands on his hips, mimicking the receptionist's pose. "I'm here to make some cash, excuse me for living." "Spider-Man! Just the…man…I wanted to see!" Spider-Man couldn't believe those words came out of Jameson's mouth, and neither did Jameson.
Jameson had on the biggest, fakest smile Spider-Man had seen in his life. "Spider-Man. Uh…" Jameson began, taking out a little post-it note. "Err…eh…'Why, thank you for your time, Amazing Spider-Man. I really appreciate it, and your contributes to this beautiful city'. Now take your money." Jameson read. Obviously, Spider-Man was beaming under his mask. "Oh, my, seeing you do that almost makes me not want to take the money. And—ooh, it's in cash?" Spider-Man laughed, ripping it from Jameson's shaking hand. Spider-Man stuffed it in pocket in his costume and helped himself to a chair. Jameson was like an erupting volcano- watch out. "So, who's the lucky bastard that'll be interviewing me?" Spider-Man said, feet propped up on the desk. Jameson groaned. "Me." Spider-Man took his feet off the table instantly. Damn.
"Okay, may we begin?" "Whenever you're ready, J.J." "Okay. So, Spider-Man, what happened on June 3rd, 2005, when the fire collapsed the building?" Spider-Man moaned. He knew this would be the first question. "Well, J.J., that's something I really don't want to relive. But I'll do it for you, buddy. I arrived at the scene, and the building was completely up in flames. I saw this teenager on the roof, so I climbed up it. The building started to come down. I went as fast as I could, really, I did. But it wasn't fast enough. I let go of the building. And it came down. All of it." Jameson almost felt sincere for this poor man. Almost. And he almost hesitated on asking the next question. Almost.
"Witnesses say, at first, you did not go directly to the scene of the fire." Spider-Man wanted to slap himself. "Jameson, sir, that's true. I-I didn't go there right away. And go ahead. But that in tomorrows headline. I'll live with it. Like I have before. I'm not immortal, though that super power would be cool." Jameson knew better than anyone what he meant. Spider-Man was in a state of mind when denial was the beginning.
"Spider-Man, why didn't you?" Jameson said, really curious this time. Spider-Man gave a deep sigh. "I don't know. I was tired of people hating me when I tried to save the world, so I figured I'd do what they wanted and ignore it. But I realized I couldn't do that, I just couldn't deny a call for help. It's in my nature to be a self-sacrificing person, and I say that in all modesty. So, really, I was trying to figure out what to do, rather than do nothing better than all." Just then, Spider-Man's head started to tingle like crazy. He looked around, while everyone was looking at him like he was nuts. It got faster. Oh shit.
Spider-Man got up and starred out of a window. It got too fast to count, like his heartbeat times one hundred. Once it got faster than that, Spider-Man knew they were all in deep, deep, deep shit. "Everyone, out of this building, now!" Spider-Man screamed. People did so, but others didn't move a muscle. "Are you off your rocker?" Jameson asked. "No, trust me. Something's wrong!" "How the hell do you know?" Jameson asked. Just then, the roof of the Daily Bugle was blown off. Everyone screamed and ducked. Spider-Man got up and looked at Jameson, who's bright red completion had gone completely white. "That's how the hell I know."