Chapter Two: The Morning After

First there was darkness. Then there was sound, just the faintest buzzing of noise in her ears. "Mrmn? Mrmn njnmum?" Sound gave way to voices, the slightest hint of voices she thought, somewhere deep down, she could recognize. They sounded familiar, and they made her feel warm inside, but she couldn't make them out from her abyssal darkness.

She tried to focus on the sound, and slowly she started to make out words here and there. She knew these voices, she started to realize, and suddenly two cracks of light began to pierce her darkness, her eyes opening to a brand new world. She felt different immediately; she couldn't quite place it, but something just wasn't right.

A figure came into her eyes, and she felt a warm familiarity cover her body. "M…mom…," she heard her voice offer weakly, just the faintest sound piercing her lips was all her body could offer. As her eyes began to focus, she heard the figure chuckle, "I sure hope not; it would open all sorts of questions." Her heart sank a little, as reality returned to her, the sweet memory of being in her parents' arms slipping away to the harsh reality of the world. As the blurs in her vision began to clear, she found part of herself wishing the world would just go away, and leave her back to the happy place she thought she had found.

"Harry...," she smiled the best she could, lifting her head to see. She was in a white room with floors so clean that they shone in the light of her open window, making her eyes hurt so much she had to squint. She was in a bed with a blue warmer covering her body, warm enough it made her feel like she could sleep forever. A dull sting in the back of her left hand made her suddenly aware of the needle poking through her skin, bleeding IV fluid into her veins.

All around her were machines she didn't understand displaying information she didn't need. She thought she recognized one of the machines from TV; it had a squiggly line that kept rhythm with the beat of her heart, at least so far as she understood it. If her heart stopped beating, it would make a really annoying, high-pitched tone that was among the most annoying noises she had ever heard. For a moment, she hoped her heart wouldn't stop, so she didn't have to listen to it. "Where…," she started to ask, but the warm hand of her visitor on the back of her neck made her quiet again.

"Save your strength. Your aunt went to get us something to eat. She didn't want to go, but I thought she needed some fresh air; she's been here all night." Harry cleared his throat before he continued. "You're at Bellevue Hospital. They brought you here after you passed out on the field trip."

"Hospital…?" MJ started to ask.

"Yeah. They brought you in yesterday. My dad had you flown in by helicopter. He didn't want to waste time with traffic." Harry stopped for a moment. MJ could tell by looking that he was feeling proud of his father's quick response. "I'm glad you're okay, Mary Jane. Listen, you need to get some rest," he clasped her free hand tightly in both of his, "I'll talk to the doctor. See what I can do about getting you out of here soon."

"Thanks, Harry," she murmured out, squeezing his hand in what little strength she had in her, before letting her eyes close and sleep take her once more.

"Good morning, Mr. Osborn. Ben Urich, Daily Bugle. I won't be but a moment of your time. Penny for your thoughts?" What the hell? It was too early for this, Norman Osborn thought quickly to himself. He never spoke the words, but Urich could see it in his eyes that he'd managed to get him at an extraordinarily bad time. Which, so far as Urich was concerned, couldn't be better; when a man is frustrated, he tends to be off-guard.

Ben Urich was dressed entirely in black, from his cardigan to his shoes. With an audio recorder in hand and a pair of square glasses set neatly on his nose, the man looked to be no danger to Osborn's company. But looks could be deceiving; this single man had already caused no end to trouble for Wilson Fisk, one of Osborn's less savory associates. Though it was masked easily by his shaggy red hair and goatee, Ben Urich had made it his mission in life to be the most dangerous man alive, at least as far as Oscorp Industries was concerned.

Osborn stopped only a moment, looking Urich in the eyes. Urich could see the danger hidden beneath Norman's cold, hard exterior, but he could not be swayed from his goal. He had faced down even the mobsters of the mighty Fisk Empire; he had long since put aside fear. "My thoughts," Osborn began, "are that the tabloids print more reliable trash than what I reluctantly refer to as your paper. I don't have time to entertain your questions today, Mr. Urich. I have a business to run and there are urgent matters that require my attention. Can you find your way out, or must I call security?"

"Matters such as the Watson girl, who passed out in your labs just yesterday, cause unknown? Any comments about that, Mr. Osborn?" Urich's hand moved quickly, pressing his audio recorder just under Osborn's chin.

Norman's eyes narrowed cautiously. The slightest wrong word could turn this bad for him. "I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Urich. The young Watson girl had an unfortunate slip during a class field trip. My assistant has sent her to Bellevue. Go check on her there, if you're so interested in her personal well-being."

"So then you do confirm that the Watson girl was here, and that the accident did, in fact, happen in your labs just before you sent her away? If it was a simple accident, why doesn't the emergency response team at Forest Hills report being contacted? Most people call 9-1-1 in an emergency situation. What was so special about this one student that merited special treatment?"

With a snarl, Osborn quickly changed the subject. A large man with a bald head had reached the office, and took Urich quickly by the arm. "I have entertained your witchhunt, Mr. Urich, but my patience is growing thin. Gargan, please escort our reporter friend off the premises. And in the future, Urich, do remember to schedule with my personal assistant. I am a very busy man, and despite what you may have heard, Oscorp does not run itself."

"Nnnn…" MJ awoke to a stirring in her neck. Aunt Anna had returned, and Harry was already gone. She could only guess his father beckoned. MJ had managed to sleep for only a few hours before the door clicked open behind her. Even in her drowsy state, she was suddenly aware of a strange sensation in the back of her neck. She could feel the presence of somebody entering the room; she knew he was there, without seeing, without hearing.

Rolling over, she turned to face the door, cracking her eyes open just a slant to see. "Doctor!" Her aunt, 43, was on her feet as soon as the newcomer was in the room. She could see the concern in Aunt Anna's movements; she could almost feel the worry dripping off her. "Doctor Warren, is she going to be okay?"

"She's fine," spoke the man in the long, white coat. Never taking his eyes off the clipboard in his hands, Doctor Warren spoke with a soft and gentle tone. "She may experience some momentary nausea from time to time over the next couple of days, but otherwise, she's as healthy as the proverbial horse." Finally lifting his eyes from his paperwork, the doctor smiled at MJ, and somewhere deep inside she felt a strange feeling of dread. She didn't understand it, but there was something in his voice or in the way he moved…some strange, unfamiliar feeling she had that told her everything was not okay.

She didn't move, didn't speak. She tried not to make a sound, trying to make sense of the new buzzing sensation in the back of her neck. She lay still, pretending to still sleep, as the doctor went over her condition with Aunt Anna. "Your daughter was attacked by a small, venomous creature. The bite marks on the back of her neck clearly suggest a spider as the perpetrator, possibly a brown recluse or black widow. Because she was bitten so close to the brain, we believe the toxin may have quickly rushed to her head, which caused her unfortunate event yesterday. However, the toxins have been treated and your daughter is expected to make a full recovery within the next 24 hours."

He's lying , MJ thought silently to herself. She didn't know how she knew…there was just something about the man sending off warning signals in her mind. Why is he lying?

"Will she be able to come home tonight?"

"I'm afraid not tonight," the doctor adjusted the black-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose. "We would prefer Mary-Jane stay for observation, so that we can be sure the toxin clears up. Barring any unforeseen complications, of course, you're free to take her home tomorrow.

"Thank you, Doctor Warren."

"Of course." The doctor next took a step towards MJ, and her body froze still. What was it about the man that set off these feelings in her? A cold sweat began to grow on her forehead, and she thought for sure he could see it. She couldn't know, she had since closed her eyes, but she could swear he was studying her, watching her. It was only a moment, however, before he turned around and walked back towards the door. "Have a good evening, Mrs. Watson. You're free to stay the night with Mary-Jane again."

As soon as he was gone, a wave of relief washed over her body. She opened her eyes and lifted herself slowly, blinking in the harsh light that had become so unwelcome to her sleepy eyes. "Who was that?" She mustered out. She felt her strength starting to return, but she still felt ill. Strong enough to talk, but she would need more rest before she could be truly active again.

"You were awake? That was Doctor Warren," her Aunt Anna quickly responded. "He's the physician who was assigned to take care of you. The foremost expert on venoms and toxins. The best in the field." She could see the concern in her aunt's eyes, and the questions were starting to grow on her lips. Before she could ask, Anna answered, "And don't worry about anything. I know our medical insurance isn't…what it could be. But Norman Osborn footed the bill for everything. I think he was afraid we would sue him or something." She chuckled weakly. "Oh, I almost forgot."

Anna lifted a large bouquet of roses from the bedside table, handing them gently to MJ. "These are from Harry. They arrived an hour ago. And this," she slowly picked up a textbook and some papers, "is from that nice Parker boy. He came by when you were asleep; I wanted to wake you up, but he didn't. And he left so quickly…one would almost think he was afraid you'd bite. Anyway, he brought your homework from school today, so you don't have to worry about missing too much." Homework. Great. Thanks Pete. There goes the weekend.

"Listen, the doctor said you need your rest, so I want you to try and sleep." More sleep. She'd been sleeping all day. "Please. The doctor says we can take you home tomorrow."

"I…I don't trust him," MJ stammered out. "I don't know why…there's just something about him."

"Don't be silly, MJ. Doctor Warren is one of the best. You'll be fine; better than fine, even. Just rest up, and I'll take care of everything."

"Mr. Osborn? This is Doctor Warren. Listen, I've taken a blood analysis on the Watson girl and…well, you really need to see this for yourself. I'm faxing them over as we speak." As the phone message droned on, Norman's eyes immediately caught a few papers lying on his fax machine. Picking up one of them, he listened further. "The venom in her blood has begun to mutate. It's doing something to her…I don't know what, but something. Her body is changing; she experienced a temporary stasis while these changes started, and I suspect they'll have fully taken root by tomorrow. I've reassured the Watsons that nothing is wrong, and by that very story, the longest we can hold her is until tomorrow. But I strongly advise you keep an eye on her." Gargan, Osborn thought immediately. That's why he had him flown back in from Antwerp, after all. "Once she's out of this hospital, my hands are tied, Mr. Osborn. Once she walks out this door, I can't do anything more. However, I look forward to following up on this, hopefully soon. I don't know what you've done to her, but it's a miracle of modern genetic engineering."

A miracle. A MIRACLE of genetic engineering. Those words brought a smile to Osborn's lips, as he took his seat behind his desk to go over the faxes from Bellevue. He had paid good money to get her into the place, and now it was looking like it may be finally paying off. Punching the numbers into his phone, he picked up the receiver and barked, "Stromm! Meet me in my office. We need to talk." Yesterday's accident may well be the turning point for this company, he thought to himself. The GBN Serum finally had its first truly viable human trial.