Chapter 16

Peter pulled the covers tightly around himself, clutching them as he slept peacefully on the couch. A light snoring sound began to rise while Peter shifted positions on the couch, the faint buzz rising to a louder crescendo before it came abruptly to an end. Peter rolled off the couch, landing with an echoing thud as he jerked awake, eyes fluttering open.

Peter laid there for a second, groaning and allowing his eyes to focus on the ceiling. Typically, his eyes were allowed to adjust after the fall by focusing on wife as she checked on him. That's if the loud thump of his body hitting the floor woke her up at al. However, more often than not, he could Mary Jane leaning over the bed, offering a helping hand along with a sultry yet sympathetic "Come on back to bed, tiger." Then, Peter would take his wife's hand, slip back under the covers and engage in a little snuggling before they both faded back into dreamland.

This morning, though, there was no helping hand. Instead, he kicked off the blanket, which had intertwined itself around his legs, and then he gripped the side of the couch in order to peel himself off the cold, cement floor. Rising to his feet, he knew of course wasn't the only thing that was different this Christmas.

First of all, the setting was drastically different. Instead of laying warm in his bed, he was waking up in the basement of one of his oldest villains, Dr. Curt Connors or as the world knew him, The Lizard. Instead of waking up next to his wife, he knew Mary Jane lay in a coma caused by poison and thought irreversible by doctors. But, thanks to Dr. Connors, there just might be a Christmas to be salvaged today after all. If Dr. Connors only had a successful antidote today, then this could be the best Christmas present ever to have Mary Jane back.

Speaking of presents, he recalled that the last of his Christmas presents had been collected by the police during his arrest. Peter shuddered to think of how the presents had probably been opened, searched through by the police, no doubt determined the jewelry to be harmless and now resided in an evidence locker within police headquarters. Once Mary Jane cleared him though, the presents could be returned and Peter was just imagining the look on her face as she opened the necklace when he heard a noise upstairs.

Shaken out of his reverie, he dashed upstairs. For a fleeting second as he reached the top of the stairs, his Spider Sense went off but it was gone quickly as it came. His eyes flickered around the room, searching for whatever could've caused the sound he had heard. But, there was nothing there.

The house was absolutely silent, save for his breathing and the bubbling of the coffee in the coffee maker, which had apparently been kindly made by Dr. Connors sometime this morning. Apparently a good night's sleep may hay have been all that Dr. Connors needed, although Peter was still disturbed by the image of the mug shattering on the floor. That was stamped in his memory, followed by the memory of an obviously shocked Dr. Connors staggering off to bed.

But, Peter was certain that no mugs would break this morning as he prepared himself a cup of coffee to wake up. Not that he really needed it, though. The prospect of having Mary Jane back today made it impossible to even consider going back to bed. Taking a sip of his coffee, his eyes caught a small piece of paper left on the countertop next to the coffee maker. On it, there was a scribbled note, strangely enough written in an almost unintelligible scrawl that was in contrast to Dr. Connor's usual handwriting.

"I guess Dr. Connors was in a hurry this morning," Peter thought, with a chuckle and then took a second to decipher the writing. After a few seconds though, he was able to read that it was the address of the laboratory where Dr. Connors was working hard on the antidote. As Spiderman, he would be able to swing there in just a few minutes.

Draining the last of the coffee, he set the cup in the sink and headed back towards the bedroom. Entering the room, he was pleasantly surprised to see the bed made and that Dr. Connors certainly had headed back to the laboratory, where Peter would be meeting him in a few minutes. Peter began to open up the familiar back window, sneaking out back so as to remain undetected. Not that he should have anything to worry about on a day like to day. On Christmas morning, people would either be sleeping in or sitting in front of the Christmas tree, fighting back yawns and surrounded by wrapping paper as they opened presents with their families. The chances of them watching outside for escaped fugitives slinking down the street were slim to none. But, of course, he hadn't made it this far by taking unnecessary chances.

Soon enough, he was swinging over the city, snowflakes falling down around him, while webline after webline brought him closer to the laboratory and hopefully closer to the end of the nightmare.

The Home of J. Jonah Jameson

One of those people surrounded by Christmas wrapping was J. Jonah Jameson. Sitting on the couch, he looked across at Marla as she fumbled with the wrapping on one of his gifts. Jameson was glad to enjoy Christmas with his wife, and even more glad to be able to give her fond memories of the holiday, even though he had few to draw on from his childhood.

His father, David Jameson, had been a highly decorated officer in the United States Army and a war veteran. Everybody in the community respected him as a hero, but what nobody in the community knew that David Jameson was also an abusive husband and father. It was early on that Jameson realized that heroes, real heroes, are far and few between. Even those people considered heroes couldn't be a hero every day. There were moments where David Jameson had been a good father, but these were outnumbered by moments of screaming insults and physical abuse.

Everybody has some heroic moments, but nobody can keep it up all the time. Take Spiderman, for example. Throughout his "crime fighting career", he had undoubtedly done some genuine good. But, often times, Jameson was convinced that he was responsible for many of the misdeeds that he claimed to solve. It all seemed like some kind of glorified publicity stunt. Spiderman had to have some kind of agenda, or else why would he wear a mask? What was he hiding? But, now he was close to finding out the man behind the mask. With a phone call, he would stand on the verge of finally learning Spiderman's secret identity.

Marla's squeal of surprise and obvious enjoyment at discovering the gift he had purchased brought his train of thoughts to a screeching halt. Clutching the box in one hand, she squeezed him tightly and planted a kiss on his cheek before snuggling in behind him.

"These are beautiful, honey," Marla said sweetly, "They must have cost a fortune."

'They' were a pair of diamond earrings which had indeed cost him quite a bit. He had, over the years, acquired a reputation for being cheap. First of all, he wasn't cheap at all, but merely efficient. There were too many idiots out there who were fine with wasting their money, but Jameson was not one of those. He would rather be considered cheap than a fool. But, when it came to his wife, he didn't mind being a little less efficient. And for his momentary lapse in financial efficiency, he was rewarded with a kiss.

Eagerly, Marla bounded over to the Christmas tree, pulling out a long, rectangular box wrapped in shiny, blue paper.

"Open it!" Marla exclaimed excitedly, depositing the box in his lap. Tugging off the bow, Jameson remembered seeing this same wrapping paper at the Daily Bugle at their Christmas Eve Party yesterday. Robbie had planned it without his knowledge, and it appeared worth it as the employees seemed to enjoy it. The party had been a success, the celebration offering a brief respite from covering the tragic events that had occurred over the past few days. It had been a low-key affair really, given how busy things were around the holiday season, but still there had been a gift exchange, beverage and even cake.

Jameson had left the party pretty early, but not before he found himself giving a toast. The toast was given to the excellent sales throughout the year, to the dedication of the Bugle employees and last but not least, the loss of a valued employee, Peter Parker.

Over the years, Peter Parker had proven to be one of the Bugle's best and most dependable photographers. Ever since that young man walked into his office, there had always been a bond of trust between them. If he could, he'd love to share his Aunt May's deluded theory that Peter was alive, but Jameson knew it was time to accept that Parker was dead.

Jameson had heard recently that Spiderman had been sighted near the warehouse explosion, which made Jameson boil with rage. If Jameson discovered that he had anything to do with Parker's death, Spiderman would pay worse than ever before. But, this was no time to think about such things. It was time, as the caller had suggested yesterday, to enjoy Christmas with his family. And so, with renewed vigor, he shredded the wrapping paper as Marla watched on.

Elsewhere In The City

Christmas continued throughout the city, with Christmas joy appearing in places you wouldn't even think possible. Here was a seemingly abandoned warehouse, not unlike the one where Peter Parker allegedly met his end. This early in the morning, it was surprisingly deserted and quiet, with most of the prostitutes, drug dealers and gangsters all but gone. It would be nice to believe that these people were someplace enjoying Christmas, whether with one another or perhaps joyfully reunited with their families.

However, it seemed more likely that they knew the reputation of who lived in the warehouse at the current moment and wisely chose to avoid it. Hence, the silence, which was broken now with a loud squeal of "Time to wake up, puddin'! It's Christmas!"

Inside the warehouse, Harley Quinn was positively bouncing on the bed, eager to wake the Joker up. The Joker's response was less than enthusiastic, though, as he simply pushed her off the bed with a grunt.

Harley Quinn landed on the floor with a squeal and a thud, but remained undaunted as she sprang to her feet. When the Joker rolled over away from her, she pulled a noise-maker out and placing it close to his ear. After taking a deep breathe, she blew as hard as she could. The sound of the noisemaker reverberated in the air like a trumpet, ringing in the Joker's ear and providing the desired effect as he shot up like a rocket, clearly awake now. In one swift motion after waking, he cut off the bugle-like sound at both of its sources. One hand clamped around Harley Quinn's throat and the other hand crumpling the paper noisemaker. Tossing Harley down onto the bed with a snarl, he now dedicated himself to tearing up the noisemaker with both hands as he sprinkled the pieces in the air like confetti.

"What is the matter with you?" the Joker demanded as the last of the noisemaker fluttered down onto the purple sheets. If Harley Quinn was fazed at all by this display of anger and violence, she didn't display it for a second.

In fact, with a cough and a giggle, she sat up, "Absolutely nothin', Mr. J! I'm just so excited it's Christmas. Aren't you?"

"Of course I am, Harley!" said the Joker with a toothy grin, "You know how much I love Christmas, but I just figured we'd sleep in this morning since we've been working so hard. Robbing banks and murder isn't easy, you know." The Joker seemed to calm down a bit now, but still with the manic glint in his eyes.

"I know, pudding." Harley Quinn said with a pout, leaning up to give the Joker a sympathetic hug, "But since we're up, we could give each other our gifts, couldn't we?"

"All that killing wears me out, but I never get tired of it" said the Joker with a loud chuckle and then registering what Harley had said, "You got me a present, Harley?"

"Of course!" Harley said with an adoring grin, "There was no way I would let the Clown Prince of Crime, my pudding, not get a Christmas present! You got me a present too, didn't ya?"

"Of course!" said the Joker with a smile and a laugh, "How could I forget my sweet cupid of crime!"

Harley Quinn giggled at the name, then clapped her hands with excitement and antcipation as she squealed, "What'd ya get me? What'd ya get me?"

With a manner of seconds, with a grand flourish, the Joker produced a package in red wrapping with a black bow. Eagerly, Harley Quinn tore the package out of his hands and ripped apart the wrapping in a frenzy, the discarded bow falling to the side.

Once the present was opened, Harley found herself wearing a bemused look on her face and pulling a pair of tickets out from the package. Looking over them, she didn't find any writing on them and so she was forced to ask, "What are these, Mr. J?"

"These kiddo," Joker said as he put an arm around her shoulder, "are tickets to see the end of New York City."

"Really!" Harley said, doing her best to sound excited, "I was just kinda expecting something a little different with all the money we robbed from the banks lately."

These are tickets to a brand new year, Harley! A brand new world!" the Joker proclaimed, nearly crowing with excitement, "We're going to get the best seats in the house for armageddon, Harley!"

"Thanks, Mr J!" said Harley, giving him a big hug and wrapping him tight as the Joker squirmed slightly in her grasp.

"Besides," the Joker whispered with a conspiratorial grin, "The bank money is being spent on the other half of your Christmas present."

Harley's eyes widened in surprise as she smiled, "When do I get that?"

"New Years Harley!" answered the Joker with a sinister laugh, "It's gonna be the biggest New Year's celebration this town has ever seen!"

"Yay!" Harley shouted, leaning forward to tackle the Joker in a hug as the toppled to the floor, "Wait until you see what I got you!"

The Joker struggled to avoid her kisses and squirmed free of her hugs, but like a rapid pitbull, Harley Quinn hung on underneath the mistletoe she had hung earlier this morning. Those tickets fell to the side, with writing appearing on them with invisible ink as the first words began to appear, reading Times Square.

Aunt May's House

Aunt May stood in front of the Christmas tree that Peter and Mary Jane had helped set up in the corner during their visit a few weeks ago, her eyes gazing down at the small cluster of presents gathered at the bottom of the tree. On a typical Christmas morning, Peter and Mary Jane would be over to open up a few Christmas presents. Then, after an exchanging of gifts, she would have an excellent Christmas lunch prepared to help them celebrate the holiday.

But, obviously, this was not a typical Christmas. The oven was cold and instead of bustling through the kitchen, she stood here blinking back tears. The world assumed that Peter had attempted to kill his wife and also believed him dead. Mary Jane was in a coma, where the doctors had no real idea of what was wrong with her.

This was one of the worst Christmas seasons she had ever endured and probably the worst since that first Christmas after her husband Ben had passed away. But, at least, Peter had been here then. Right now, she had no idea where Peter was. No doubt, off as Spiderman, trying to do something about his situation and save Mary Jane.

For years, she had misunderstood Spiderman and his actions. Even after discovering Peter was Spiderman, it had taken her time to accept it all. But, once she had, she was so proud of Peter. That certainly didn't mean she didn't worry about Peter and in fact, she worried more than ever about his safety. Of course, she couldn't stop him from doing what was right.

Doing what was right, unfortunately, put him in opposition of people who were in the habit of doing wrong. That's what was happening now, but her whole life, Aunt May had firmly believed that good would always triumph over evil. Evil might win for a while, but in the end, good would overcome. Peter and by extension, Spiderman would win.

Looking over at the tree, she clutched the coffee cup tightly in her trembling hands, taking a sip of coffee before reaching out with one hand, gently touching a glass ornament prominently displayed on the tree. It was an ornament she and Ben had bought so many years ago, to celebrate the first Christmas Peter had enjoyed with them. It was commemorated with that year and his full name, Peter Benjamin Parker.

"Where are you, Peter?" she wondered silently. Then, stepping away from the Christmas tree, Aunt May knelt down by the couch with some difficulty and began to pray.

Dr. Connor's Laboratory

If the cold, biting wind could carry an answer back to Aunt May, they would tell her of Peter's arrival at Dr. Connor's laboratory. Whipping around the corner, the stark white building came into view. Looking quite plain, there were no signs outside of the building and so, no indication of what lay inside. What could hopefully be found inside was Dr. Connors and a successful antidote.

Spiderman landed down outside of the laboratory, landing out of sight as he started to change out of his Spiderman costume. Dr. Connors was expecting Peter, not Spiderman. But, as he gripped the bottom of his mask to peel it off, his Spider sense flared up at once. Looking around, there was no explanation for his spider sense going off but he took a second to look around. Moving around the building, he saw Dr. Connor's car out front and then out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a flash of movement as the door creaked opened. His heart began to pound a little faster, and his Spider sense only intensified as he went to push open the door.

Once the door was open, the reason why his Spider sense was going off was revealed in an instant. Spiderman stood there numb for a second, shocked at what lay inside. No doubt, a short time ago, this had been a meticulously organized laboratory, given Dr. Connor's standards as a researcher and a scientist. Now, however, the lab lay in ruins.

Spiderman stepped into the lab carefully, attempting to avoid the broken glass that lay across the floor. Completely avoid the glass would be impossible, since it was literally strewn everywhere, so he could hear broken glass crack underneath his feet as he walked around assessing the damage. The lab had looked as if it had been hit by a wild animal and given Dr. Connor's history, it probably had. Claw marks around the laboratory, gouged along the wall and other surfaces, suggested that a transformation back to the Lizard had taken place.

Spiderman was naturally concerned whenever Curt Connors transformed into the Lizard, but a selfish part of him wondered, "Why now?" Everything had been so close to a resolution. Perhaps he'd been overly optimistic to imagine a storybook ending like in A Wonderful Life. Still, he couldn't have anticipated this. Out of all the possible scenarios he could've envisioned, Dr. Connors transforming into the Lizard hadn't really been considered.

But, it was obvious now that it should've been and growing more clear as he continued to walk around. Smoke wafted up from several pieces of broken lab equipment that had been scattered across the room and broken tables lay shattered as they'd been thrown across the room with enough force to break them in half. Only two tables had survived the Lizard's rampage and even those had suffered.

It seemed all but certain now that the antidote lay destroyed in the wreckage, and by looking over the various items of destruction, it only seems to confirm his suspicions. It could also have disappeared with the Lizard when he left, but he wouldn't hold out hope for that. A section of the wall was broken, creating a makeshift exit and a set of clawed footprints showed the direction that the Lizard had headed in. Taking another cursory look around the wreckage of the laboratory and Spiderman knew that the only way he could hope to discover the location of the antidote lay with the Lizard.

Starting to step out of the crumbling section of the wall when his Spider sense flared wildly, causing Spiderman to spin around in anticipation of whatever was causing it to go off and half-expecting to see the Lizard behind him. Instead, there was a man standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorway as he apparently surveyed the surroundings. A harsh glare from the sun prevented Spiderman from seeing the intruder's face right away, forcing Spiderman to step closer for a better look.

"Well, our mutual friend has left quite a mess of things, hasn't he?" said a voice that Spiderman found chillingly familiar. Yet, he couldn't quite place it and another second, he didn't have to. Wearing a cream yellow suit, white button-up shirt, black tie, blue gloves, his trademark purple mask and a confident smirk, the Rose had returned. A pair of cruel blue eyes watched him as Spiderman literally found himself taking a step backwards, shocked by this latest twist.

"What are you doing here?" Spiderman asked, managing to find his voice after a second.

Stepping over a piece of broken table, the Rose gazed up at him with those cool eyes and a knowing smile.

"Well, I'm actually looking here for Dr. Connors," the Rose responded, "But you being here is an added bonus. I can give you a message from my employer."

"What message?" Spiderman asked, "Who are you working for?" There were a million other questions he would've liked to ask, but these were the first two that came to mind.

"Who I'm working for is not your concern," said the Rose, "But you should pay special attention to the message."

Having said that, the Rose reached inside his jacket pocket for something with his gloved hand disappearing in and for a moment, Spiderman thought it might be a gun. However, his Spider sense didn't go off at all and a moment later, the Rose was extending him a cell phone.

"You want to be cell phone buddies now?" said Spiderman with a healthy amount of skepticism and a chuckle

"Keep this with you at all times." the Rose said, deliberately ignoring the comment, "We will call you with instructions when we're ready."

"Why would I bother taking orders from some guy named after a flower?" responded Spiderman, rolling his eyes, "I don't work for you. Or your boss."

"You do now." the Rose sneered, "You will do whatever we ask of you."

This automatic assumption that Spiderman was going to roll right over and do whatever they wanted was growing frustrating and fast.

"In case you've forgotten," Spiderman said, "I put people like you in jail. Why in the world would I bother working for the bad guys?"

"Because, " the Rose said with a smile, clearly savoring the moment, "the bad guys, as you refer to us, are in control of what happens to your wife."

The words hit him like a suckerpunch, as he literally felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. His heart felt like it was being ripped out of his chest by some invisible hand and his head pounded at this revelation. The implications of such a simple statement like that were amazing. Not only did the Rose appear to know of Spiderman's secret, but it appeared that he had used that knowledge to harm Mary Jane. Even worse, he seemed to be using Mary Jane as some kind of pawn in a blackmail scheme.

Spiderman could try to feign innocence and pretend he had no idea what the Rose was talking about, but he suspected it would be an exercise in futility. Instead, he settled for another reaction entirely. Leaping forward to cover the distance between himself and the Rose in no time at all, gripping him by the lapels of his jacket as he slammed him up against the wall.

"What did you do to Mary Jane?" Spiderman demanded, through gritted teeth.

"Relax, Spiderman." said the Rose, "Mary Jane is perfectly fine."

"Apart from the coma you mean!" Spiderman exclaimed angrily, "Apart from the fact that somebody tried to kill her!"

"The intent was never to kill her." The Rose stated, "She's obviously much more use to us alive."

"I should kill you right now." Spiderman said, leaning closer and trembling with rage, "I want Mary Jane back – now!"

"Of course you want her back," said the Rose with surprising calm, "And you will once you do us a favor."

"What do you want me to do?" Spiderman said, glaring at the Rose as he strongly contemplated throwing the man responsible for everything that had happened to him so far through the wall.

"All in good time, Spiderman" said the Rose with a smirk, "But, first you'll let me go and then I'll explain the rules."

Spiderman's fingers clenched around the Rose's lapel tightly, before he stepped backwards away from him and as he was pushing off backwards, he "accidentally" let the Rose's head smack into the wall with a crack. This gave Spiderman a small amount of satisfaction, since he felt basically helpless at the moment.

The Rose slumped down the wall for a second, grimacing as he rubbed his head and those eyes glared at him before straightening up. The Rose took a few steps to orient himself, straightening out his lapel before he resumed speaking as he shook his head.

"If you ever attempt to make good on your attempt to kill, hurt or maim me in any way, Mary Jane will die." said the Rose, "If you do not follow our instructions to the letter, Mary Jane will die. If you deviate at any point, Mary Jane will die. Are you following the pattern so far, Spiderman?"

As he said the instructions, he ticked off the instructions one by one on his fingers, calmly as if he was chatting about the weather. As he reached the end, he looked up at Spiderman in expectation of an answer. Spiderman remained silent, though.

"We have an agent stationed inside the hospital right now. He can get to Mary Jane any time he wants." said the Rose, walking towards the door, "Remember that."

"What if I do your favor?" Spiderman said, not able to believe he was even asking, "What guarantees do I have that you'll cure Mary Jane?"

The Rose was halfway to the door before he turned around, looking at Spiderman.

"You get absolutely no guarantees, Spiderman." said the Rose with a chuckle, "We're the bad guys, remember? But, then again, you don't get a choice either."

"If anything else happens to Mary Jane," Spiderman said, "You're going to wish you'd never been born."

The Rose only laughed though as he said, "We'll call you when we're ready and Merry Chr…"

But, the Rose didn't get to finish the holiday greetings as Spiderman webbed his mouth shut. Then, Spiderman swung away, without another word. If he stayed even a second longer, he might do something he would regret. Not that the Rose didn't deserve it, but because he didn't want to jeopardize Mary Jane any further.

Looking back over his shoulder as he swung away from the laboratory, he was pleased to see the Rose tearing furiously at the web covering his mouth and noticing that he couldn't seem to get it off. Then, the driver's side door opened as a beautiful, statuesque woman with black hair and blue eyes stepped out of the limousine that had apparently brought the Rose here.

It had been a few years since he'd seen her, but you didn't forget a woman like Delilah and certainly under the circumstances in which they'd met. Her presence here suggested that the man assuming the guise of the Rose was Jacob Conover, but without x-ray vision, there was no way to be sure. Last time he had seen Jacob Conover, Spiderman had sent him to prison and last time he had checked, there had been no parole for him. Delilah had been taken to the hospital by the authorities after a battle with one of the Black Tarantula's operatives, Bloodscream. But, that had been ages ago. Neither of them had been heard from or seen since. To be honest, he'd practically forgotten them but now they were back and with a vengeance it seemed. Neither was a foe to be taken lightly and the fact that they were working for an individual yet to be revealed suggested a larger scheme was in place.

He had come to the laboratory in search of answers, but with every answer he had received so far, there had been only more questions. Everything remained elusive, much like the answers to so many questions and the antidote for Mary Jane. The only thing that he appeared to know for sure is that the storybook ending he sought was nowhere in sight. For once, he was glad Christmas only came but once a year.

The End

(to Part One only!)

So, don't worry all my faithful readers, you can look for Part Two: Auld Lang Syne coming soon!