NOTE: Finally done! Pretty proud. If you guys don't mind, please review now that the story is complete and keep on eye out for my new story that I'm writing now. And to everyone that read the story in full: Thanks so much. I appreciate it greatly. ENJOY!

SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS

FULL CIRCLE:

Memories: They say that's all life really is. At first, the thought sounds ludicrous and baseless, but if you really think about it, it all kind of clicks. You never really realize what's happening until your brain processes the information. That process isn't instant. It takes only a few milliseconds, if that, for your brain to make the connections it needs for you to realize what has just occurred; For you to realize that the air outside is in fact cold, or that the warm liquid running down your leg is not your drink. But by then…it's in the past. Milliseconds in the past, sure, but it's still in the past, and that makes it a memory. And as I stare helplessly at the deteriorating warehouse sitting by the river's edge, its windows shattered and broken, moss creeping out of its wet recesses like an ant burrowing itself out of its hole, I realize that the majority of my memories are not of happy thoughts and the few happy ones I do have are overshadowed by those less pleasurable.

Gwen…

If the theory that life is all memories is, in fact, reality…would that mean my life is shit? Would there even be a point in continuing? Everything I have done up to this point, no matter how hard I tried, has gotten me nowhere and the ones I love either hurt or dead. But to leave and let the Goblin win, let him laugh at me as I watch him destroy the lives of the innocence much like he did mine? No. My life may not be sunshine and flowers, but Peter Parker isn't a quitter.

Especially not when I have a responsibility to fulfill.

I formed fists, knuckles cracking as they protruded from the rips in my gloves. As I charged forward, towards the rusted doors of the warehouse, the only thing on my mind was Gwen. But as I thought of her laugh, and her smile, the sounds of the city drowned her out; almost like reminder of her grime fate, her broken body lying helplessly upon the pavement. I fought through tears as I swung open the front door and entered the darkness. The door slammed shut behind me, the hinges too old and too weak to be moved, and I was greeted with the bask of the dim moonlight through the row of windows circling the building. '

I began to move forward when his voice echoed throughout the building. "Well, hello, Mister Parker. So nice of you to join me. I was worried you hadn't gotten my message or that the death of your 'significant other' had destroyed the last bit of hope you had left in this meaningless world of yours. Glad to see you're still fighting, even if it is for the wrong team." He took a pause and I could feel the muscles in my arms tense. "Hmm…There's something strange about you. The way you're standing there, angry and bitter…I like it." I could hear a grin spread over his face. "There might still be hope for you yet, Peter. There might still be hope."

My spider-sense flared up like a fire-cracker. I turned around, ready throw my fist through the first thing that moved, but was caught off-guard as the Goblin launched himself at me, knocking me to the ground. The attack hadn't hurt, and I was ready to lunge myself back onto my feet, but he had come prepared. Before I knew it, both my arms and my neck were pinned to the ground by the Goblin, leaving only my legs free to kick about as they pleased. I wrestled for a moment, snarling as I fought to escape his grasp, but to no avail. He had played the better man's game. He has managed to avoid as much damage to himself as possible and that had left him stronger, more able to do wreck his havoc upon me. I gave up my fight and stared back at him. I was startled to see how close he was, his breath in my face as the red of his eyes stared at mine.

He grinned a large, toothy smile that stretched from ear to ear. The thought of that being the last thing Gwen ever saw only made me angrier and I began to resist his grip again. "You're a monster!" I growled at him.

"Yes, but I have a reason, a purpose, just like you. So, by your logic, that makes you as bad as me." His grin grew, his lips exposing more of his fanged teeth.

"You hurt innocent people. I'm saving them!"

"Saving them? This is all YOUR fault. You know that, right?" I felt like I should have gotten angry, like I should have ripped myself from his grasp and tore his head straight from his shoulders, but I didn't. I couldn't. I relaxed myself and looked straight into his eyes. "Even before you were Spider-Man, your choices only led to the death of the ones you loved. Your Aunt May and Uncle Ben died because you were only looking out for yourself. Then, even when you gained this new-found sense of bullshit responsibility, you ignored my warnings. You ignored ME. Look how that ended up: Dozens of dead cops, and a father and daughter six feet under. If you had listened to me, none of them would have ever had to die. If you had teamed up with me, they would still be laughing, smiling, dancing, whatever. Don't blame me for your ignorance."

"You're right…" I mumbled through tears. "This is my fault. I should've listened to you, but I didn't. I fought you with nothing but my fists. Not once did I even think about where all that would get me. For God's sake, you're Norman Osborn! How could I even think about competing with that?" I rested my head on the ground and looked at the ceiling. "I deserve all of this. I've been making all the wrong decisions ever since I let that burglar go. Maybe if I had put my pride behind me and stopped him, we wouldn't even need to be having this conversation."

"Look who's come around." The Goblin laughed. "'Bout damn time! Now…" He loosened his grip on my right hand, a sense of security running through him.

With my arm loose, I landed a right hook into his jaw with all my strength. I could feel bone shift and teeth loosen through his skin. His whole body flipped over onto his side and I moved quickly as to make sure not to waste my opening. He recovered quickly, despite the shock of the hit, and scrambled up onto his feet just as my fist passed by him and into the cement floor. I shifted on my knee and landed a clean shot to his ribs, doubling him over before I landed a jab to his throat.

"I said I only fought with my fists…" I stated, kicking him in the chest. "This time I'm using my brain." I hit him with a left hook to the temple and tore his satchel from around his body with my free hand. He looked up at me in complete shock, blood dripping from nose and down into his mouth. "No more toys." I stated coldly as I hurled the bag across the warehouse and out one of the broken windows leading to the river. He watched the window, doubled over in pain, as if he was expecting the bag to come back through it. When he turned around, I was already upon him, gripping his throat with my right hand.

"I-I thought…we had come to an understanding." He gasped for air. "I thought you had realized the error of your ways."

"I would have expected you, of all people, to smell bullshit. Especially when it's right under your nose." My grip on his throat grew tighter.

He took a few deep breaths, staring back at me as I stared at him, and reformed his smile. "If we're going to do this…let's do it right. Remove your mask…and I'll put down my hood."

"No. This was never between Peter Parker and Norman Osborn. This has always been a battle between Spider-Man and the Goblin. It started that way…and it'll end that way." I kept my gaze to support my sentence. It pained me to look into the eyes of the bastard who killed Gwen-the bastard who killed her father-but I held strong and kept my grip around his throat. "The masks stay."

We looked into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity, the two of us knowing what would come of this night. We both knew that the two of us were never leaving the warehouse together. We both knew that it had to one of us, or neither of us. We had played this game too long and too hard for no pay-off. It all came down to this, whether we wanted to admit it or not. It was the end game-the final battle between hero and villain. The only thing standing between the inevitable was my hand around his neck.

So I released my grip. And our dance began.

The two of us weaved and spun through space and time like fire and ice, thunder and lightning. We traded blows in the dim light of the moon, spit and blood spewing from our bodies. The hole in the ceiling let the stars shine through as if they were watching our routine-our tango. For every punch I took, I dished one out just as hard, and he did the same. As our battle continued, the memories of the past supported my fists, increased my strength. Our first battle, Ben's kidnapping, Captain Stacy's death, Gwen's abduction…

My failure to save her.

Each memory only made me angrier and more bitter, and before I knew it, my strikes had become stronger, more aggressive. My arms had gone limp, but the power was still there to back them up. I took great satisfaction in the spray of blood leaving the Goblin's open wounds with each new hit I landed. And with each consecutive strike I landed, he landed less. I was winning this fight. The Goblin only had his own physical strength behind him. But me…I was angry, distraught, and I was using that. I was fighting with my brain. The Goblin was fighting to live, to see another day. At this point, he didn't care much for my demise. I was fighting for vengeance. All I cared about was seeing the Goblin's defeat, even if I never saw another day, myself. At least I'd be with Gwen.

The thought of seeing Gwen again-her laugh, her smile, her very existence-it all built up inside of me like a time-bomb.

Three…

I punched the Goblin dead center in the chest.

Two…

Another strike to the nose.

One…

I kicked out his knee, snapping it at the bone, and dropped him with a one-two combo to the jaw.

The Goblin collapsed on the spot, his breath short, his body mangled and bloody. Every so often he would twitch as he took a breath in, his broken ribs bending as his lungs expanded. I watched over him in a blood-filled sweat, shaking and hurt. My knuckles were more than likely broken, as was my right shoulder, but I barely felt any of it. All I felt was a sense of pure accomplishment, absolute joy. I was standing over the twisted heap of a person once called the Goblin-a name that filled me with terror and grief. I made my way over to him, barely able to stay standing for very long, and dropped to one knee beside him. His breath was short and garbled, blood filling his mouth. I picked him up by his shirt and brought him up to my face. He stared back at me, still smiling, blood dripping from every open crevice. I stared back at him, still panting, and felt a sudden wave of grief take me over.

"Wh-what are y-you waiting for…?" He coughed, using all his energy to speak. I remained silent and dropped him to the ground. He hissed as he landed flat on his back, his broken bones shifting. I stood up and headed for the door, trying not to look back. "Where are yo…you going?"

"I'm going to the police. You'll spend the rest of your days in a padded cell. Not a coffin. I want the world to know of your crimes and see your REAL face. Norman..." I turned around, standing strong as the dust and grime in the air circled around me.

He looked up at me through broken eye sockets and after a moment of silence, just as I was getting ready to leave, he laughed. He twisted and turned as he let out howl after howl of heinous laughter. "Yo-you don't understand this, do you?" He managed to say between barks. "This-this…GAME we're playing…doesn't end like that. Sure, you could send me to jail, watch as I rot away for a matter of weeks, maybe months, and then…when I gather up my strength, I'll escape. I'll get right back into the swing of things. Kill a few people, blow some shit up…the whole act!" He took another deep breath, grimacing as he inhaled. "Then you'll send me back to jail just so that we can do everything all over again. The two of us will be stuck in time, like a broken record, forever bound to an eternal fight that'll last as long as the two of us live. Jail doesn't end this charade, Parker…it only repeats it."

I looked back in complete silence. For the first time, the Goblin was completely, and utterly…right. Sending him to jail wouldn't end anyone's misery. Even if he never escaped, who knows what he would say. Would he give up my identity? What about my address or the names of the ones close to me? And then there's Harry who would have to live through a life of embarrassment and misery once the whole world knows that his father is the Goblin. But if he did escape, the devastation would be immense. The bodies would pile up in the streets, blood filling up the gutters and the drains, all just to get back at me. No…that couldn't happen. It's my responsibility to use these powers for good. Sending the Goblin to jail wouldn't stop anything. If I was really going to use these powers for good, and live up to my responsibility…I was going to have to end this. Here…and now.

I walked back over to him, insecurity coursing through my veins. He smiled and laughed as he noticed me taking his advice. I felt stupid and weak for doing so, but he was right. I pressed my knee against his chest and leaned in one it in order to keep him pinned. He let out a howling laugh. With a shaky left hand, I grabbed him by the throat and lifted my right hand, now formed into a fist, above my head. My whole body shook, the sound of my heartbeat filling my ears. I bared my teeth and stared straight into the Goblin's eyes.

"Be-before you do it…" He grinned, shaking. "I just want you to know…I'm glad I killed your bitch of a girlfriend."

And I lost it. I attacked him ferociously, every strike sending tremors up my arms as tears streamed down my face. I could hear his cries between the sound of breaking bones and spilt blood. I took great joy in knowing I was causing him this much pain. I was happy to know I was avenging Gwen. After what seemed like an eternity, I finished with one more half-hearted punch. My body shook violently and I found myself barely able to stop from crying. I swallowed hard and looked down at the Goblin. Somewhere in the confusion, he had rolled over to his side, face covered by the side of his hood. I fought myself from looking, but I knew I had to. I had to see the cold, dead face of the man who killed Gwen. With an unsteady hand, I rolled the Goblin over to his back, out of the growing puddle of blood, and almost vomited on the spot. His face had been reduced to almost nothing but bloody pulp, every bone snapped and broken, blood covering every inch of green skin on his face. I couldn't even make out his eyes or most of his nose.

But one thing did stand out: His smile.

The Goblin wasn't crying for mercy during those last few moments of life. He was laughing…at me. He was laughing at my inability to bring myself to this earlier, my stubborn, hot-headedness that got Gwen killed. The Goblin had died with a permanent smile on his face.

I lifted my hands to my mask, no longer able to keep from crying, and was just barely able to take it off before my tears, and my sadness, took me over. I dropped the mask to the ground and starred at it for a long time before looking back over at the Goblin and his shit-eating grin.

"Stop laughing…" I mumbled, hearing his cackle over my thoughts. It only grew louder. "Stop…Laughing…" I said louder this time. The laughing continued. I didn't say anything this time, hoping the laughing would stop on its own. It never did. It only grew louder and more ferocious until it drowned out the world surrounding me. "STOP LAUGHING!" I screamed, punching him in the chest one final time before burying my head in my hands and falling over in a heap of violent shakes and tears. I stayed like that for God knows how long until I couldn't cry anymore. But, through all the tears and the heart-ache, I was satisfied. I had lived up to my responsibility. I had saved the world from a monster.

I had gotten my revenge.

Sure, it wasn't pretty, and the memory of me murdering the Goblin will be forever burned into my brain, but as far as I'm concerned, what I did was right. I didn't kill just anybody. I killed the Goblin. And if anyone deserved to be murdered in the dead of night by way of a brutal beating…it was him…and him alone.

xXx

The death of the police Captain and his daughter within the same week put the city into a collective silence. The city was so quiet, I put the suit away for a while, actually. The tattered rags of failure are hidden deep in the belly of the trunk beneath my bed. I'll drag them out when the city needs me…when I'm ready…but until then, Spider-Man is taking a break. I think everyone was taking a break. No one truly knew what to do, what to say. Everyone just kind of kept to themselves. It was nice, it was relaxing, and it gave me the time I needed to focus on my own life.

Somewhere, near the center of the city, a newspaper reporter, confined to crutches for the next few months, is focusing on his own life as he is assigned to write a front-page article on the Stacy murders. What seemed like a routine assignment is turning into a nerve-wrenching fit of emotional filled turmoil as he realizes that the world isn't as safe a place as he would like. The death of Gwen only further showed him, past his own kidnapping, that anyone can be targeted and for any reason. Since the police have no evidence as to why Gwen was killed, it only makes the thought scarier. God only knows how long this article will take to be written, and how many pain pills will be used to finish it.

On the other side of the island, a newly-promoted police Captain wrestles with herself over an empty bottle of Bourbon, her head in her hands, as she realizes that the world isn't so black-and-white. A man threatened the life of a teenage girl for absolutely no reason, and her only thoughts were on the man in the spider suit she thought was the monster. Suddenly, things don't seem as clear as they did a week ago. Suddenly, the line between good and evil is drawn. Neither the Spider-Man nor the Goblin has been sighted since the night Gwen was killed. She believes the two of them to dead. And that scares her. Because, for the first time, she worries for the guy in the spider suit. For the first time, she realizes that he may be the good guy after all. It'll take some time, and some more bourbon, before she is able to sort through her thoughts.

The NYPD called me down to the Stacy home to help clear out Gwen's things. With no other family members to call upon, they were forced to call me. I almost said no; almost turned away from the opportunity to put closure on my relationship with Gwen. I thought my final battle with the Goblin was closure enough, but that was Spider-Man's closure. Peter Parker still needed his. Gwen's room had been remotely untouched since the last time I had seen it. Captain Stacy's boxes and belongings still filled the corners of her room. It was there that I found a folder for a case that Captain Stacy was working on before he died. A certain high school science teacher's daughter had runaway to Germany for undisclosed reasons. The police had been unable to do anything about it because the case now belonged to foreign affairs. I contemplated taking the file, hoping Spider-Man could help. But Spider-Man couldn't do anything about it. If Carolyn wanted to come home, she'd come home all by herself.

I visited Harry in the hospital on my way to Gwen's funeral. He apologized for not being able to attend. I told him to stop beating himself up over it; He couldn't do anything about it. I promised I'd come back afterwards to tell him all about it. We recounted our favorite moments with Gwen over cups of coffee. I had to use the bathroom once to stop myself from crying. I took extra caution as to not mention his father. As far as anyone knows, Norman disappeared weeks ago, leaving Harry alone and scared in their apartment. I didn't dare bring it up…for the both of us. Harry had made substantial progress in his recovery. He told me that the doctors asked him if he had taken any sort of experimental drug. When he asked why, they told him they found traces of a substance called "Hobioglobin" in his system. I left after hearing about the Hobioglobin thing. Maybe it just freaked me out too much that Hobioglobin was created by OSCORP, but I could've sworn Harry's eyes had a slight red hue to them.

xXx

Gwen's funeral was a week, to the day, after Captain Stacy's. It was terrible being in the exact same spot for just as tragic a moment. It almost felt like deja-vu, with the snow and all. I tried to remain focused on the actual ceremony, but I couldn't. Too many memories, too many regrets. The image of the Goblin's smashed-in, bloody pulp of a face burning brightly in the back of my mind, his laugh cackling over the words of the eulogist. I found it near impossible to keep my mind off of it. Everything reminded me of that dreadful night. Every gravestone, the police officers in attendance. Even looking down at my hands only brought back the awful memories of his blood on my knuckles.

The ceremony ended in a haze, the mob of people surrounding me suddenly standing from their chairs and moving towards their vehicles as if just as influenced by the wind as the snowflakes dancing about them. I stayed behind, seated in my chair in the center of the funeral set-up. My skin stung from the cold, my eyes dried out and tired from all the tears, and yet, I still fought to keep myself from crying as I read the tombstone over and over.

GWEN STACY

The image of her sparkling eyes and perfect smile.

BELOVED DAUGHTER AND FRIEND

Her broken body among the snowflakes and the grit.

DECEMBER 9TH, 1994 - JANUARY 13TH, 2012

The Goblin's mutilated body lying in a pool of his own blood.

I pushed myself out of the seat, head heavy, body weak. I headed straight for the tombstone which caused me so much pain. I don't know if it was the depression, my weakened body, or the cold, but I found myself, on my knees, only a matter of feet from Gwen's tombstone. With each passing second, my vision become more and more hazy as the tears built up in my eyes, my jaw tightening to fight back my meltdown. It all proved useless as I found myself cradling my head in my arms, sobbing and spasming on the cold, wet, dirt ground of the cemetery. This was a kind of sadness unparalleled to anything I have ever felt before. Aunt May and Uncle Ben's death came close, but even then, this was an entirely new beast. Their murder was my fault, but I couldn't stop it once it had already been set in motion. Gwen's death was my fault, both in causing in and failing to stop it, and that it made it all the worse.

I could hear footsteps approach from behind me, but I ignored them. I figured they would see me weeping in the middle of a cemetery and move on. Wasn't exactly a rare occurrence. They continued towards me until they stopped right beside me. Out of the corner of my vision, I could see them drop to their knees, their hand gently landed on my shoulder and moved up and down my back, petting me. It wasn't until I saw the flow of red hair, blown by the wind, that I realized who it was. Without even looking at her, I turned into her and hugged her, crying into her shoulder. I could feel her body tense within my arms for a second and then relax and hug me back.

"Peter…" She started, and I could hear her forcing back tears of her own. "I'm so sorry this had to happen. No one deserves this. No one."

"God, this is all my fault!" I sobbed, pressing my eyes into her shoulder blade.

"Wha-?! No. No, no, no!" She grabbed my shoulders and pushed me back to look into my eyes. I looked up, my face red from the tears. "This was never your fault. It was no one's fault besides the bastard who killed her. No one's."

I looked into her eyes and contemplated telling her everything on the spot. I looked into her marble-like, green eyes, filling with tears, and took a deep breath.

"You're right…" I mumbled, looking away, as we embraced again. "It's not my fault…"

It was Spider-Man's fault. Spider-Man being such a strong part of my life killed Gwen and her Dad. Not me. Peter Parker never once had a part of their deaths. Peter Parker was never once the target of Norman Osborn's conspiracies. It wasn't until I became Spider-Man that I had to deal with an insane sociopath like the Goblin. Suddenly, the drive to don the tights again seemed so distant, so far. Putting on the mask only put the ones I loved in greater danger. I could never keep my identity a secret for the rest of my life. It was only a matter of time before someone else put together that Peter Parker was Spider-Man. Then what? I watch as my friends and loved ones are tortured till their last breath. Maybe I won't even get to watch… No. Spider-Man is right where he belongs: In the bottom of the chest beneath my bed. He fulfilled his responsibility. He saved the city from the worst threat it could face. It was time for Peter Parker to live.

I hugged MJ tighter as I let the tears run off my cheeks and onto her shoulder. This was the first day of the rest of my life.

A sort of…metamorphosis, almost.

xXx

THE END

xXx