Chapter 27: Worlds Away

"The truth is rarely pure and never simple." -Oscar Wilde

It all happened too quickly. I felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz; my little farmhouse twirling in the wind and I, helplessly stuck in the middle until the twister decided to set me back down in an unfamiliar place.

I laid on the muddy embankment as Peter emptied his stomach of the black lake. I listened to him cough and wheeze and when he was finally quiet, I heard his body shifting. He was fumbling with what I assumed was his mask and then a soft, muffled gasp escaped his lips.

"Oh no, Mary Jane," He breathed my name softly and no sooner had I heard it then he was lifting me into his arms. I played possum, my eyes shut as he began to carry us away from the lake. I was afraid to open my eyes - afraid to see Peter's face. In a moment of weakness from an onslaught of emotion, I had confessed my love for him. WHY had I done that?! I was infatuated with Spider-Man: sure, okay, I could justify that. But Peter? Peter wasn't Spider-Man. I mean, yes, Peter is literally Spider-Man but... my thoughts are entangled. What a low place I'm in as I write all of this.

We walked for some distance and I, being the coward that I am, kept my eyes shut. I listened to Peter's ragged breath as we walked. Sometimes, I could even hear his heart thumping wildly within his chest. With the rhythm of his heart and his ragged, irregular breath as the soundtrack to my thoughts, I allowed myself some time to rehash the events that had just transpired. I tried to justify my words - blaming them on the emotional moment... but I knew, deep down, that I was only lying to myself. Peter and Spider-Man were the same person. I had disliked Peter for the majority of my time knowing him because I had thought he was a coward for running away when the Rhino had attacked downtown New York. But now it all made sense: Peter hadn't left me. Peter had been right beside me, protecting me. He had laid down his life to save mine. I had spent the last two years cursing him as a coward when in all reality, he was the bravest man I had ever known and I was the coward. I was the one hiding behind the mask. I was the one running from the monsters in my head.

It was Gwen's voice that interrupted my bitter thoughts.

"There they are!" I heard a handful of voices, low and gruff.

I felt Peter stop and whisper, "You're safe now, MJ." And then in a louder voice, "Captain Stacy, she seems to be unharmed, just unconscious. Have your men check her out."

Gwen's soft fingers were suddenly brushing across my face as Peter held me, waiting for one of Captain Stacy's men to take me. She whispered my name, her voice thick with concern.

"Thank you, Spider-Man." I heard Captain Stacy reply as I was transferred over to another set of arms. "-but you know this doesn't change anything."

"Aw, no amnesty for saving the life of your daughter's best friend?" Spider-Man joked but his voice was broken; strained, painful syllables lilting in and out in volume as he spoke. "I wouldn't expect as much from you." He chuckled but it came out flat and forced. "Keep them safe. I've got a goblin to hunt."

I heard feet running against the earth then a familiar -THWIP- as he threw out a webline. I opened my eyes but he was already gone.

At Captain Stacy's order, the rest of the day Gwen and I waited at her apartment. Two police officers stood outside the front door, making sure no one entered... or left. We hardly spoke, unable to form the right words to describe what had just happened to us. Rather, we sat in the living room on opposite couches, our gazes blank, fingertips strumming nervously upon our knees. I wondered if she knew about Peter and Spider-Man. If she didn't, I wondered where she thought Peter had run off to. She had called him and he had called Captain Stacy - so, she was aware that Peter knew what had happened. Was she such a forgiving person that his absence didn't bother her? Or was she so deep in thought that she didn't notice his absence? I glanced over at her. Yes, she was in deep thought; her brows furrowed and her palms continuously gripping and releasing the edge of the couch.

"Gwen -" I called her name but she was so deep in thought that she didn't even flinch. "Gwen!" I called again and this time, she whipped around to face me. I hardly recognized the expression upon her face. It took me a moment to place it but when I did, my heart sank. ...She was afraid; Terrified even.

"Come on, lets get out of here."

"What? We can't leave."

I stood from the couch then reached down and grabbed her hand. "Like Hell we can't. We can't stay cooped up in here. Come on." I gently pulled her to her feet and she, like a zombie, followed me wherever I pulled her. We walked into my old bedroom. We crossed the small room to the window and she waited patiently while I paused to pull back the blinds and open the window. As gracefully as I could manage with my terribly bruised body, I hoisted myself through the window. Without a word, she did the same.

"I used to come out here a lot when I needed time to think about... things." I watched her as she looked around at the dinghy, rusting fire escape we stood upon. "It's not the prettiest thing to look at but..." I let my words trail off. After a long while, she sat down then laid back and stared up into the metal grating above our heads.

"Why would God let so many bad people exist?"

I stared down into her face. She avoided my gaze.

"Since when does the scientist believe in God?" I let my question linger, intending it as a joke to warm the chill that had befallen us, but she didn't crack even the smallest of smiles. I sighed then sat and laid down beside her, staring up into the metal grating of the fire escape one floor above us. "I used to ask myself the same thing. Why would God let innocent people get hurt or die, yet allow so many bad people to live... but I think there's more to it than that. I think that God set everything in motion then looked down at us and said 'Alright, guys! Give it your best shot!' Just like our parents did. But even great parents can have awful children and the same goes for awful parents - sometimes they have really good kids, despite it all." I stopped. I realized I was rambling. "I'm sorry. I'm just rambling."

"No," She reached over and grabbed my hand, "Keep going."

I paused to gather my words. "I guess what I mean is... we make our own decisions. No one can make those decisions for us. Sometimes the decisions we make turn us into good people and sometimes they turn us into bad people." I squeezed her hand gently. "But either way, that's not God's fault."

I saw her nod her head from the corner of my eye.

"I love Peter very much." Her words were as hollow as her bottomless blue eyes, "I don't deserve him."

"What!" Tears were falling down her cheeks. "Gwen, Peter is lucky to have someone like you. Norman is a scumbag. You did nothing wrong!"

She didn't say another word and I didn't push her to either. I reached over and gently gripped her hand and for a long while, we laid in silence. She was such a pure soul that even Norman's disgusting words were enough to bruise her. I wondered at this and how different we were. Where my skin was tough as leather, her's was still baby soft. I had been raised by a monster and she had been raised by two loving, protective parents. While the monster had given me a tough skin, her loving parents had made her soft, a white glove for all the dirt in the world to cling to. This was the only gift my father had given me - and that was the only injustice Gwen's parents had served her.

"Come on," I squeezed her hand. "It's been a long day. Let's get back inside."

We crawled back in through my window. I could tell by her lowered eyelids that she was tired. Carefully, I led her into her bedroom. She crawled into bed and when her head was laid upon the pillow and the blankets were pulled up tight under her chin, she asked me one more question. "MJ? Did Norman like you when Harry introduced you to him?"

What a strange question to ask. I tried to laugh and make light of the blunderous meeting. I shook my head. "God, no! He hated me." I laughed again, blowing an exasperated breath of air between my pursed lips. "He probably hates me even more now because of Harry." I smiled down at her then shrugged my shoulders, "You win some, you lose some."

She didn't smile. Rather, she stared up at me then tightened the covers under her chin and rolled away. I walked back to my old bedroom and soon, I too fell asleep.

I woke with a start, a soft gasp escaping my parted lips. I bolted upright. How long had I been asleep? It was dark - my bedroom a myriad of inky blackness and darker shadows. Somewhere past my barely opened bedroom door, someone was whispering. I stood from the mattress on the floor and began to walk towards the door. I stopped. I had stepped on some pieces of paper. I kneeled to pick them up then stood and walked out of my old bedroom into the living room. What I saw caused me to gasp again - for the second time that night. In the dim light of the kitchen, Peter and Gwen stood together. Peter's bare back was turned to me and it was this sight that had caused me to gasp... His broad, muscular back was marred with long, bloody lashes, the edges of his bloody wounds ragged and burnt. Gwen stood in front of him, gauze in her hands. When she heard my gasp, she stepped away from Peter to stare strangely at me from across the room. Slowly, Peter turned to face me. The extent of his wounds was not limited to only his back - rather, his entire torso was badly wounded, dobs of coagulated blood still clinging to his pale skin. When he breathed, his abs flexed and trembled in pain. He stared at me from two bruised eyes - the delicate skin a sickening purple hue - then turned his gaze to the floor.

"Peter, what happened to you?"

"Just go back to bed, Mary Jane." Gwen spoke before he could open his swollen mouth. I stared at her for a long pause then stared back at him. He kept his gaze upon the floor but even then, I could see the rage that boiled beneath his bruised skin. "Please."

I was not a part of this world - their world. I felt it then more than I had ever felt it. Like the curtains being drawn back from a window, I had seen glimpses of the secrets in their world. And just like staring out of that window, I thought for a brief moment that I was part of the wonderous world outside of the window but the truth was, I was still stuck in my own bedroom and they were closing the curtains again. Their world would never have enough room for me.

"Did the Goblin do this to you, Peter?" I took a single step towards them. "We need to get you to a hospital. Those wounds are-"

"Mary Jane!" Gwen snapped. She nearly snarled as she screamed my name, a cornered dog, fear molding her face into an unrecognizable mask. "Go to bed!" Her voice teetered on a dangerous level - a level I had never previously heard her voice soar to. Peter was so far away in his thoughts that her screams didn't phase him but her voice pierced my skin. Mortally wounded, I crumpled. I could not argue with her. Slowly, I walked back into my old bedroom. As soon as my bedroom door closed, I heard their muffled whispers begin again. Distressed, Gwen's whispers gained in strength until I could just barely hear the words behind the old wooden door.

"You can't go out there again!" She was pleading with Peter. I heard his muffled voice but he spoke too softly for me to hear. "She'll be fine, Peter! She's safe here. But if you leave, you - you won't be! He will kill you if he finds you like this - you can't defend yourself like this!" She was crying, intermittent wales breaking up her words. "She'll be gone tomorrow and once she is, she'll be safe and he'll leave us alone and everything can go back to normal!"

She began to sob too hard to speak and when her sobs were quieted, I knew Peter had taken her into his arms and she was crying into his chest. I knew that embrace and I knew how it could quell even the worst fears.

I turned on the lamp then sat heavily upon the corner of the mattress on the floor and looked down at the stack of papers still clutched in my hand.

Jotted down on a sticky note in Gwen's hurried script was a note attached to the first paper,

I can't explain now but I promise I'll explain as soon as I can.

Your flight leaves tomorrow at 11am.

I love you MJ.

-Gwendy

And sure enough, beneath Gwen's sticky note was the stack of papers that turned out to be the plane ticket Gwen had secretly bought for me. The plane ticket for the flight that would leave New York for California at 11am tomorrow morning.

We were worlds apart. California was the right place for me; Worlds apart and worlds away.

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, guys! This story means so much to mean that I literally psyched myself into a serious case of writer's block. But don't worry: I wouldn't ever completely abandon it... well, I mean, not until it's done... and by done, I mean until THE NEXT CHAPTER! Are you getting excited yet?!