This isn't real, this isn't real.Peter told himself desperately as he covered his face with his hands. The flashing blue and red lights filtering through his fingers, and the ambulance siren getting closer, were the proof that tonight was his living nightmare.
Just thirty minutes ago Doctor Octopuses' slimy voice had echoed over a thousand New York speakers, "Spiderman, you have a lovely home. How does it feel to know that I had power over the very thing you care about, and I took it from you? Oh, sweet revenge. I could tell them all your name right now, but I think I will give you a few more minutes with the last thing left to you. Run home now, boy, run home."
Time had seemed to stop, and he was swinging towards home before he had even been aware of what he was doing. Each swing was a new plea that it wasn't what he thought it was. That Doc Ock was just being dramatic as usual, and that his Aunt May was safe.
It was only as he clung to his neighbor's chimney, watching the events at his house unfold, that reality hit him. His Aunt was gone, and it was his fault. His fault for being overconfident and not getting his Aunt to move somewhere safe. For not listening to her when she asked if he would stay home and study tonight instead of going out for just two hours…He was grasping the side of the chimney, eyes streaming, when he felt himself start to lose consciousness.
"Peter, baby, you need to breathe for me. Breathe and get somewhere safe. I love you, sweet boy."
Peter took a gasping breath as he heard his Aunt May's voice. The black dots cleared from his eyes and he realized that it had gone eerily silent down below. The faces of his neighbors, the police, and the ambulance crew were all looking up at him.
He heard a whisper, "Oh Spidey, I'm so sorry." And then someone, he couldn't tell who, snapped a picture. It was like a slap in the face. He had to go. He had to find somewhere safe. He had to find Doctor Octopus.