Chapter 8

Spiderman leaned against the window one last time, gazing in at his comatose wife and blew her a gentle, loving kiss. Peter tried to remember that old fairy tale. Which one was it? Sleeping Beauty? How he wished that a simple kiss on the lips would wake his wife up. MJ's eyes would flutter open and with a smile, she could tell everybody that it was all just a big, huge mistake and they could go home to celebrate Christmas.

Spiderman shook his head bitterly as he knew this was all just wishful thinking and unfortunately, wishes didn't make it so. Looking at his wife, he whispered those three little words: "I love you." Those three little words that he told his wife every day and that he'd told his wife today before they parted for…

"The last time?" a voice inside his head asked. Angrily, he cursed the voice as his heart told him otherwise. His mind told him that MJ was lost to him and his heart told him she would wake up again. It had been a struggle between the two since the moment he'd heard and had not stopped the entire time since he'd been standing here on the ledge. When Mary Jane's heart had stopped earlier, his mind had taken advantage. But, looking upon her as he whispered those three little words again – those words that he meant even today – and began to swing away from the hospital, his heart won again.

He didn't have long to dwell on this victory, however. Spiderman had managed to swing only a block or two from the hospital when he suddenly felt the web line he was swinging from severed as he started to plummet towards the ground. For the briefest moment, he wondered why his Spider Sense had failed to alert him to this danger but as he looked up, this question was instantly and unfortunately answered. Could this day get any worse?

Spiderman shot out a web immediately as he stopped his descent, still slightly shocked as he cracked into the wall with a loud crack, his shoulder smashing into it as he then shot out another web line. Using this webline to ascend into the air, and then a third propelled him onto the roof as he flipped onto it in order to come face to face with…

Nothing. Before him was empty rooftop. Scanning the rooftop in all directions, he could see nothing.

But, he had been so sure that he'd seen Venom. Those hateful eyes, the gaping mouth with razor sharp teeth and that tounge that put Gene Simmons to shame. It was almost impossible to mistake, but there was nobody here. Yet, something or somebody had cut the web line as he held the severed remnant in his hand.

But Venom? Nobody had seen or heard from him for months and for him to resurface now was almost impossible for Spiderman to consider. Rubbing his sore shoulder slightly, he felt forced to attribute seeing Venom to the overwhelming stress of the day. Spiderman searched the rooftop and the surrounding buildings, only to discover no sign that Venom had ever been there. Even so, he felt cautious enough to swing by Mary Jane's hospital room and looking in the window, he reassured himself that she was safe. Taking notice of the disappearing daylight, he decided it was time to crash. Mentally and physically exhausted, he couldn't or didn't feel like pushing himself any longer. The person or persons who attacked his wife were out there and he couldn't even think clearly. Now of course, the big question was where to sleep for the night.

Normally, no matter what occurred in his life as Spiderman, he could fall back on his semi-normal life as Peter Parker, faithful husband and photographer for the Daily bugle. Now of course, all pretense of normality for his alter-ego had vanished as he stood accused of attempted murder. Crashing at Aunt May's was out of the question as was his own apartment, seeing as it was a crime scene at the moment. In fact, who would willingly harbor somebody who was being chased by the police for attacking their own wife and putting them in a coma?

Spiders live in webs, don't they? In a brief flash, he imagined himself falling asleep in a web that he spun in some back alley or a web hammock on a rooftop. With Venom possibly on the loose though, with numerous other villians at large and those other common criminals who seem to come out at night – all of whom would leap at the chance to kill him – he began to seriously doubt that he would get a good night's sleep.

So now, he wondered how do criminals live? How do they evade the police and when they do, where do they stay? You'd think after all these years of catching them, he'd have a better idea of the criminal mentality. In order to find the answers to these questions, he decided to head towards the seedier district of town where the slums of New York City were.

Along the way, he stopped a robbery and amugging. The mugger was attempting to steal a woman's Christmas presents, which caused him to vaguely wonder what happened to the Christmas presents that he last saw scattered in the snow as he was being dragged into the backseat of a police car. As he left the mugger webbed up and suspended from a lampost, he was pretty sure he left that mugger with a broken nose too. Our local friendly neighborhood Spiderman wasn't feeling very friendly tonight.

Finally, he lowered himself into a dark alley and wrinkled his nose as this whole section of the city smelled like a mixture of raw cabbage, rotten eggs and fecal matter. Taking a quick look around to make sure nobody was watching, he then made the transition from Spiderman to Peter Parker. Removing his clothes from the web pouch, he finally buttoned up his shirt over the Spiderman logo and found himself wincing a bit as his shoulder was slightly sore from smashing into that wall.

Walking out of the alley, he looked around at the area slowly. There was one group huddled out in the open, looking around and even without his Spider sense, he could tell drugs were being traded and purchased there. Blinking a bit, Peter began to shuffle down the street and did his best not to attract attention. Two prostitutes, still scantily clad despite this cold weather, made him several offers that made his ears burn slightly as he ignored them. In fact, he could barely register their comments as he looked at the various signs on the buildings, advertising everything from strip clubs to bars, and in most cases, a combination of both.

What finally caught his eye wasn't the large sign that read "7th Heaven Bar." in neon letters that flickered on and off with a crackle of electricity, but the handwritten sign that was illuminated underneath in block letters that said: Room for Rent.

Pushing open the door, the smell of raw cabbage all but disappeared. In its place came cigarettes and alcohol. The thick haze of cigarette smoke hung in the air and unfortunately, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol was added to the already putried smell of rotten eggs and fecal matter. To his dismay, he found himself growing accustomed to the smell.

Immediately, he found himself drawing a few stares from the regulars. With a nervous smile and a wave, he willed himself towards the counter where a buxom young woman stood serving drinks.

Flipping her hair back, the young woman gazed at him with a soft smile, asking, "Can I help you?"

Peter regarded the young woman in front of him, as she was clad in a pair of blue jeans, a white t-shirt and oddly enough, a black pair of suspenders stretched over the t-shirt.

"Can I get you a drink?" she persisted, smiling at him as her brown eyes gazed back at him.

"No," Peter said, running his hand through his hair nervously, "Ummm. I actually wanted to ask about that room for rent."

Her smile became even bigger as she leaned over the counter towards him, giggling, "You want that room?"

Nodding, Peter confirmed that he did, "I don't know how long I'll need it, but I'd really like to rent it." Below the bar, Peter crossed his fingers and hoped that the rent wasn't too high.

"That's fine with me." she answered, grinning, "I'm Tifa by the way." as she extended her hand.

Taking her hand, shaking it firmly, "I'm…Bill." said Peter, not really having a desire to lie but pretty sure it wasn't a good idea to use his real name. Over the next few minutes, they discussed the price for the room and after giving her payment for tonight, she agreed to show him the room.

"Boys," she called back, "I'll be back in a few minutes.", but the 'boys' were either too drunk to care or were more interested in the closing minutes of a basketball game to care. Peter glanced at the television screen and it was absoutely no surprise to see the Knicks losing again. Rolling his eyes, he followed Tifa as she advised him to watch his head and together, they headed to a room over the apartment.

A single lightbulb illuminated the way up the stairs and following the pattern from the neon sign outside, flickered on and off. Tifa made small talk as he headed up the stairs and Peter responded as wittily as he could, but honestly it all barely registered as the only things that occupied his mind were Mary Jane and the thought of crashing into bed. Arriving at the top of the stairs, Tifa flung open the door with a grand flourish as she turned around, flashing him a smile.

"It's not much I know," Tifa grinned, "But, then again, you get what you pay for."

Peter looked around the room, leaning against the doorjam for a minute as the room had another flickering lightbulb overhead, with a wooden desk against one wall on which rested a single, beat-up alarm clock.. The other wall had a closet large enough to hold a few items of clothing and then last, but not least, there was a bed. The bed had a lumpy white pillow at the top of the bed, with matching bedsheets which looked far more clean than he would've been expecting from the appearance of the place downstairs.

Peter nodded gratefully as he gave a smile, "It's perfect." and for right now, it was.

Peter went to collapse onto the bed as he leaned back onto the bed and gave a sigh of relief as his head hit the pillow. Wearily, he closed his eyes as he stretched out onto the bed, not even bothering to remove his shoes as he pulled the cover up over his body.

"You sure I can't get you anything to eat or drink?" Tifa asked, after making sure everything was perfect and found to her surprise, that "Bill" was already asleep.

"Goodnight Bill." she said in a whisper and with a wink, "Sweet dreams." Then, she turned out the light and closed the door, locking it behind her as Peter didn't hear any of it. Peter Parker was out to the world.

Peter looked at the casket before him and resting inside, looking very serene was Mary Jane Watson. Eyes closed, her fiery red hair flowing out to the side as she wore a beautiful blue dress and even in death, she was beautiful. Peter stood impassively over the casket, gazing at his wife as he suddenly choked back tears, his eyes brimming with tears as he leaned down to give his wife a kiss. Just as he predicted of course, she didn't wake up. Sleeping Beauty, was after all, just a fairy tale. A hand on his shoulder pulled him back as Uncle Ben stood there, nodding gravely as Peter looked over at a fire ready to cremate his Mary Jane. On the verge of breaking down, his knees felt like jelly as he willed himself to meet the funeral director's gaze, who was a dour looking man whose face was etched with sadness.

Peter broke down in tears and immediately, he was enveloped in both arms by Uncle Ben and Aunt May as the fire blazed and roared to life. Through the tears, Peter gazed back at Mary Jane and as they went to close the casket, Peter saw her eyes widen with surprise and her mouth open in a silent scream.

Peter gave a huge intake of breathe as he pushed away from Uncle Ben and Aunt May, lunging for the casket. Too late, however, as the casket closed shut with a thud.

"She's alive!" he shouted repeatedly as he gripped the casket lid, trying to pry it open as it slid towards the flames. The lid wouldn't budge though as he listened to the agonizing screams of Mary Jane trapped inside.

Tears streaming down his cheeks as Peter shouted with increased rage, pounding on the lid of the casket, "Open up the casket now! She's alive!" and looked up to the funeral director. Instead of the funeral director, he met the maniacal face of Norman Osborn, who began cackling wickedly upon meeting his gaze.. He fell backwards in shock and surprise, about to topple to the floor when two pairs of arms caught him on either side. Looking over at the two faces on either side, he was shocked to see that Uncle Ben and Aunt May had been replaced by J. Jonah Jameson on his left and on his right, the spiteful face of Eddie Brock. With a viscious snarl, Eddie Brock's face transformed into Venom's as his mouth opened to reveal his pointed teeth as he joined with Norman Osborn in the laughter.

Peter struggled to twist free of their grasp, but his strength seemed to have left him as Venom wrapped his arms around him, interlocking his hands around his chest as he pulled him off the floor. Feet kicking, Peter screamed furiously as his eyes remained glued to the casket. Over the flickering roar of the flames and their evil laughter, the sound of Mary Jane's screams still reached his ears and then as the last part of the casket slid into the cremation chamber, the screams died and so did Mary Jane. Tears stained his cheeks, helpless as he tried to squirm free of Venom's grasp and looking over at J. Jonah Jameson, he found himself surprised as he saw Jameson scribbling the record of the whole incident in his notebook.

Then, the laughter abruptly stopped as Norman's face twisted into hatred, glaring at him. Then, he heard Venom rasp angrily, "Time for you to join her!" as he held Peter Parker in his arms, bringing him towards the fire where Mary Jane had just been burned alive. Kicking and screaming, twisting and writhing in Venom's grasp, determined to get free as he felt the flames licking at his feet…

Peter woke up, drenched in a cold sweat. Panting for breathe as he looked around, the sheets kicked off onto the floor and breathing heavily as he wiped the sweat off of his forehead. Realizing it was all a dream as his blurry eyes managed to focus on the alarm clock as it read 3:47 and the moonlight streaming through his window confirmed that it was still the middle of the night. It was at the moment, that his Spider Sense went off like crazy as he pushed himself out of bed, eyes darting around the room, half-expecting to see Venom crouched in the shadows.

Confused, Peter opened the door to head downstairs as he was met with the sudden image of several police offers running upstairs to apprehend him. Slamming the door shut with a crack, he twisted the lock shut and not a moment too soon. Angrily, the officers tried to twist the door knob, then screamed down to Tifa for the room key and seizing on this momentary respite, Peter gripped the bedside table to push it in front of the door, hoping it would delay the officers.

The NYPD offers outside pounded on the door in a fury, shouting that the place was surrounded as Peter stood in the room, comtemplating his next move as his eyes flickered towards the window and the door began to open. Not hesitating any longer, Peter wrenched the window open and leaped out just as the officers burst into the room in hot pursuit of one Peter Parker, fugitive.