Chapter 12
Spiderman recoiled in horror as he looked at the empty space. Hidden behind his closet was supposed to be the greatest secret of his career and never before had something so empty terrified him so much. There had been times where the bank account or their cupboards had been empty before, but that was nothing compared to the sinking feeling in his stomach. The feeling almost knocked him over, but he gripped the closet door to keep his balance. Fighting back the urge to vomit, he pushed himself to his feet, with his gaze never leaving that empty space behind his closet wall.
Tearing his gaze away now, however, he pushed himself away from the closet as he strolled over to the window on unsteady legs. Gripping the window to open it, he gasped in pain as his shoulder flared up. Peter had forgotten the wound that Dr. Connors had treated, but the recollection hit him like, well, a bullet. Nonetheless, he forced the window open as he leaned against the wall for a second. Somebody out there knew his secret.
There were a million questions that this presented, of course. His head was spinning with them and the cool air blew on his face, allowing him to think for a second. The first question, of course, had to be who held the secret now. Was it the police who had searched his apartment recently or the person who had attacked Mary Jane? The possibilities were numerous, but that only led to not only who held the secret but who held the decision of what to do with the secret. Peter knew that there were others out there in possession of the knowledge that he was Spiderman, but who had made the decision to keep it a secret. Perhaps this person would do the same.
Although the fact that they had taken his costume made that a dire possibility, but there were of course logical explanations why they had done that. Perhaps they had removed it so that it wouldn't be discovered by somebody who would expose his secret. The truth was that he had no idea who know or much less what they planned to do with it. But, the third question out of millions that ran through his head was what did this mean?
Peter could see it now – SPIDERMAN REVEALED: A DAILY BUGLE EXCLUSIVE! His picture would be plastered across the front page and ironically enough, probably one of his Spiderman photos along with it. Then, the whole world would know who he was. It'd be almost impossible to deny, but did it change anything? Well, of course, it changed everything. However, he couldn't let that change his purpose and his destiny. He had become Spiderman in order to make a difference and the possibility of the world knowing just who was out there making that difference couldn't keep him from performing his duty as a superhero.
He shook his head at the almost cliched word, superhero, not even sure what it meant right now. He certainly didn't feel much like either super or a hero. Here he was a fugitive from the law, with his wife lying in the hospital suffering because of who he was. Pounding his good arm on the wall in frustration, he was furious at whoever had done this to Mary Jane. Peter had made the decision to become Spiderman and Mary Jane had made the choice to become part of his life, but she didn't deserve to be laying in that hospital bed. It should be him. With a soft smile, he knew that if Mary Jane were here, then she wouldn't be hearing any of this.
"Peter," she would say in her soft, loving voice, "There's no point in feeling sorry for yourself. That doesn't get anything accomplished. I'm laying in a hospital bed. You're the only one who can get me out of there, but you are gonna have to stop this pity party you're having." Then, with that laugh that he fell in love with, she would give him a kiss. It was almost as if she was standing there, as if he could feel her breathe whispering in his hear, but Peter shook himself out of this reverie as he felt his gaze drawn away from the empty space and his eyes flickered across the web pouch where MJ's blood sample was stored.
Even if the world knew his secret, it couldn't stop him from making sure Mary Jane didn't remain trapped on that hospital bed. It was time to get this blood sample analyzed so that they could develop an antidote and there was nobody he trusted more at the moment than Dr. Curt Connors. He trusted Aunt May of course, but he doubted she would be much help in analyzing the blood sample. For what he needed, Dr. Connors fit the ticket perfectly and after last night, he had proved his trust.
Collecting his thoughts now, he slid out of the window and extending his arm once again, a webline shot out, catching the next building and closing the window, effectively putting this behind him for the moment. He recalled a quote that went something like "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;the courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference." Somebody out there knew his secret, that he couldn't change and for the moment, he would have to accept that but the fact that Mary Jane was laying in that hospital bed was certainly something he could change and he hoped that he would continue to know the difference. He didn't know whether it would be God who granted him the difference, but somebody was going to have to. This was the thought that would carry him onwards towards Dr. Connors and the hope for an antidote.
J. Jonah returned from lunch in his usual fashion, shouting angry commands to various Bugle employees in between chomping his cigar. It was only after berating a copy editor for a major gaffe that would've cost the Bugle a great deal of money, which JJ viewed as a cardinal sin, that JJ finally slammed the door to his office.
If the Bugle was going to be run, it would have to be done efficiently and as cheaply as possible. This would of course have to be done without errors and this was difficult to do in this age where hard work was considered to be something of an age gone by. If you believed in it, then you were considered a relic. But, Jameson reminded himself that he was still in charge of this newspaper and as long as he was, then he would instill hard work into these employees. If not, then they'd be fired.
Jameson chuckled at the thought, straightening his tie slightly as he settled into his familiar chair, immediately shuffling through various news reports. Shortly, he would determine which ones would be worth putting in his newspaper for the evening edition but then his attention was drawn to a large yellow manila envelope laying on his desk. There was no clue to the contents inside, but only a stick-it note that read: Concerning Spiderman.
Frowning, he leaned over and stabbed his finger into the intercom as he demanded of his secretary, "There's a manila envelope on my desk! Where did it come from? Who brought it in?".
His secretary came in seconds later, so startled that she almost fell out of her chair as she looked at the envelope with obvious surprise, her eyes not registering any awareness of it as she shrugged her shoulders, "I have no idea, Mr. Jameson."
"Of course not," Jameson muttered as he waved dismissively with one hand, the other reaching for the envelope, "Get out of here now. I don't pay you for standing around!". Soon as the door closed, he flipped the envelope over and without an ounce of patience, poured the contents onto the desk.
With a sudden sharp intake of breathe, Jameson saw Spiderman's mask fall onto the table with a note that almost blew away as it fell onto the desk. The Spiderman mask gazed at him with those empty eye sockets, almost accusingly as Jameson reached out with his hand to catch it as it fluttered away.
Pulling it back down as he gripped the note, which was typed out in all capital letters. Short and to the point, the letter read: I KNOW WHO WEARS THIS MASK. I KNOW WHO SPIDERMAN IS. IF YOU WANT TO KNOW, CALL THIS NUMBER." A number was written underneath it by way of a signature. Other than that, the note was left mysteriously unsigned. His hands were trembling slightly as he let the note plummet down towards the desk, where it landed besides the Spiderman mask.
Jameson couldn't believe it. This morning at the Daily Bugle had been stressful with the death of Peter Parker, which J. Jonah Jameson still wasn't sure about. He remembered actually calling Peter's Aunt May to offer his condolences, which was one of the weirdest phone calls of his entire career.
After spending several minutes telling her what a wonderful photographer Peter had been, what he had brought to the office and how much he would be missed around here, Peter's Aunt May cut him off with a knowing, "Thank you Mr. Jameson for your kind words, but Peter's not dead." Jameson wasn't sure exactly what to say to that and she took his momentary silence to mean the conversation was over as Aunt May said, "Have a nice day, Mr. Jameson". Abruptly, she hung up the phone.
Jameson was left chomping on his cigar for a moment before he hung up the phone, returning it forcefully to his cradle as he leaned over, finger pressing the intercom as he then ordered his secretary to send some flowers to May Parker right away. It appeared that Aunt May was in denial, but death was never something to take easy. Robby and a few other staff members from the Daily Bugle had taken the loss of Parker especially hard, but Jameson didn't have time to grieve at the moment. He could grieve after the evening edition. He did miss Parker though.
Pressing his finger into the intercom once again, he interrogated his secretary over who had brought the envelope in. Once again, she claimed to have no idea.
"Never mind!" Jameson snapped, "Just find Robby and bring him into my office immediately!" Jameson then leaned back in his chair, tapping out his cigar with one hand as his eyes scanned over the note again and again, impatiently awaiting Robby's arrival. Somebody out there knew who Spiderman was and if he had anything to do with it, so would the whole world soon enough.
On the rear of Dr. Connors house, away from the suburban streets and the prying eyes, Peter knocked on the window of his house with one hand. In his other hand, he clutched the vial that contained Mary Jane's blood. Once again, he found himself seeking the aid of one of his oldest friends and foes. Pounding even harder, he hoped that Dr. Connors was home because he didn't have the faintest idea where he worked.
Thankfully, Dr. Connors's face appeared in the window minutes later, a frown on his face as he pulled open the window. Peter scrambled inside as he said, "Thank you.", shivering a bit from the cold as he tried to brush off the snow from his shoes.
"What are you doing back here, Peter?" Curt asked as he closed the window, slamming shut with a thud.
"It's good to see you too, Doc." Peter responded with a grin, then keenly aware of the position that he was putting Dr. Connors in, he held up the blood vial by way of an answer,"I actually need a favor."
"Harboring a fugitive wasn't enough of a favor, huh?" Connors said with a chuckle, "You look cold. C'mon in for a cup of coffee, Parker." as he headed out of the back bedroom, indicating with a wave of his hand for Peter to follow him. Peter did, after taking a second to look around his bedroom. The nightstand had a picture of his deceased wife, Martha and his son, Billy. Peter blinked slightly, shaking his head as he headed towards the kitchen after Dr. Connors, hurrying his steps to catch up with him.
Dr. Connors was ready in the kitchen, pouring a steaming cup of coffee into a cup that was emblazoned with the logo, "World's Greatest Dad!" as he slid it across the counter towards Peter, who accepted it gratefully before sinking into a chair.
Taking a sip of his drink as he looked up at Connors, who settled into a chair across from him.
"How's the arm Parker?" Connors asked, with real concern evident in his voice.
Peter looked at it,wincing slightly as he set the vial carefully upon the table, "It's fine. Thanks for asking, Dr. Connors."
"Well, it'd be a lot better if you'd allowed me to have a better look before disappearing this morning, Peter." Dr. Connors said with a frown, "Where'd you go anyway?"
"You don't want to know," Peter said, as he slid the vial over towards Dr. Connors slowly.
"What's this?" Dr. Connors said, picking up the vial cautiously as he examined it carefully.
"It's a sample of Mary Jane's blood." Peter answered, leaning forward over the chair as he watched Dr. Connor's reaction.
"How did you..?" Connors said in surprise, then caught himself with a smile, "Let me guess. I don't want to know, right?"
"Right." Peter said with a nod.
"I was always a fast learner," Connors said, looking over at the blinds to make sure they were closed, then examined the vial once again, "Well, what exactly do you want me to do with it?"
"I believe Mary Jane has been poisoned." Peter said, taking another sip of coffee as he then continued, "I need your help in analyzing her blood and engineering an antidote. That's the favor I was talking about."
"Well, I can't guarantee you anything, Parker." Connors said, his eyes looking up from the vial to gaze up at Peter, "But, I do have a small lab that I've maintained over the years and I'll do my best to help."
"I really appreciate it, Dr. Connors." Peter said, his voice expressing his deep sincerity and appreciation for what Dr. Connors was doing. There weren't many people who would help him out in his current circumstances, despite their long standing connection.
"Well, like I said, I can't guarantee anything." Dr. Connors said as he took a last sip of his coffee, taking the cup over towards the sink, "The only thing I can guarantee is that I'll do my best to help out Mary Jane."
"Well, anything I can do to help?" Peter asked as he drained the last of his coffee, taking the cup over to the sink as well.
"Well, if anybody could help, it would be you, Peter…" said Dr. Connors said, heading back to the basement for a second when his voice was suddenly drained out by the blare of the television by a breaking news bulletin.
"Here you can see Rhino downtown and the rampage that this is causing. The police and fire department are both on hand to try to put out the blaze…" The screen was filled with scenes of a fire occuring in the background as the Rhino picked up a lampost, tearing it from the cement and swinging it into a police car to move it out of the way.
Peter knew that local law enforcement couldn't hope to subdue the Rhino as he frowned, shaking his head as he had to put off helping Dr. Connors for the moment.
"I'll be in touch Dr. Connors real soon." as Peter headed towards the back bedroom, calling down towards the basement, "Thanks again for your help."
"Peter.." Dr. Connors called out from the basement, voice filled with concern as his feet pounded their way up the stairs, "Where are you going? At least let me check your arm first."
But, Dr. Connors arrived back upstairs to discover that Peter had disapppeared once again, entering the back bedroom as he closed the window, noticing the footsteps in the snow, left once again to wonder where Peter had gone.
But, Dr. Connors headed downstairs to the basement once again as he carried the vial of Mary Jane's Blood, taking a piece of duct tape and a black permanent parker. Placing the duct tape over the vial, he writes the label Parker upon the duct tape. After that, he sets the vial next to another identical blood-filled vial also labeled Parker. Stepping back to admire the identical vials, his hand reaches out to grip the phone. Picking up the phone, he once again dials that same familiar number as Peter Parker, also known as Spiderman, heads off to fight the Rhino.