I'm gonna take the day off, Peter said as he sipped a morning cop of orange juice. Aunt May had prepared scrambled eggs, sausage, ham; works. His shoulder was in agonizing pain, though. The aftermath of it all.

Aunt May read a copy of the Daily Bugle while she sipped a cup of decaf coffee. She was in a pink robe and matching slippers.

Peter was indulging himself, savoring everything he ate.

I better go on 'weight watchers', he thought. I'm not gonna fit in my costume if I keep this up!

But Spider-Man was the last thing on his mind. He wanted to relax, wanted to calm down, get well-rested, get that shoulder better…

Peter spat out the eggs that were in his mouth and snatched the paper from Aunt May's hands from across the table.

"Peter!" She snapped, but she saw the look on his face. "Peter?"

On the cover of the Daily Bugle were three pictures…one shot of Harry Osborn, one of Mary Jane Watson, and the other of Amanda Wells.

The headline read: "Carnage Takes Three Teens Hostage-Blames "the Spider-Man!""

Peter flipped to the page that the article was being displayed on and began speed-reading, skimming each line for important key words.

"Carnage…angry…revenge…Venom…3 teenage kids…Brooklyn Bridge…Osborn…Watson…Wells…Spider-Man…all his fault.."

"Holy effing crap." He said, getting up from the table. "Aunt May, I need to go."

"But Peter…?" She tried to stop him, but he had already left. She looked at the cover of the paper again, put her hand over her mouth and whispered "Oh dear."

Spider-Man could be seen swinging to the Brooklyn Bridge minutes later, his arm in a splint and useless during his web swinging. It hurt so much just to swing around. He was in for it now.

The Brooklyn Bridge was like a movie scene. Police lines everywhere, guys from both S.H.E.I.L.D. and The Vault, Carnage standing on top of the bridge, full of power, and the three helpless victims, scared as anything. And, of course, there was the hero.

Spider-Man stood on the roof of a nearby building. It was so warm out, such a nice day out, and Carnage was about to kill three people he cared about the most. Anger and hatred was bubbling in his chest. And he needed to vent some of this aggravation and punch someone already. He didn't care if it was Carnage, Venom, or some guards from the Vault.

Okay…Here goes everything…

Spider-Man jumped over to the bridge from another rooftop about fifteen feet away from where he was. The bridge was packed with the police. Spider-Man landed right in front of Carnage on one of the support beams.

"Finally. You showed up."

"Leave them alone, Carnage!" Spider-Man yelled over the roar of an NYPD helicopter. "They didn't do anything to you!"

"No…but I saw the way you looked at them during our little fight at the Bugle. You were worrying your ass off. I don't know how you know these kids, and I don't really care. You and Venom got my need for revenge a whole lot higher. Once I've killed you, then it's Brock's turn! You got Electro, but he's nothing compared to me. Nothing."

"Yeah…okay…just…look…"

"What's wrong with your arm…?" Carnage asked himself.

"Let them go, Casady. Please? With sugar on top?"

"You are very annoying."

"Thank you." Spidey said proudly.

"You're arm…ooh that's right! You were shot! I heard about that…it was all over the news. Spider-Man got shot by some guy from the Vault. I know some of them personally, they're not very nice people."

Spider-Man knew Carnage was just toying with him, getting ready to attack. Spider-Man needed to come up with a plan…and fast…that didn't involve himself re-injuring his shoulder.

…psh…this is some day off…