A/N: So I decided to do an author's note at the beginning, so I could warm you that the point of view changes. I think you can guess when. Sorry this is such a short chapter! I've been away and I wanted to get this one up as soon as possible. Thank you for all your reviews, they're what keeps me writing! I hope you enjoy let me know your thoughts or what you want to see :) Thanks for reading. And remember to leave a review!

P.S: A big thank you to The Girl With No Life. She designed the cover photo and it is absolutely amazing!

The first thing I did when I woke up the next day (After recovering from the worst hangover ever) was pull out my laptop and search the name:

Ben Parker

I waited a few seconds for my laptop to load.

When it finally did, I clicked on a police report about his death.

Benjamin Parker was walking along 78th avenue before the manslaughter occurred.. Subject was searching for his nephew, Peter Parker, after a recent fight. After passing the Bob's convenient store, he was shot. Witnesses portray the man as having long blonde hair, just above his shoulders. He was wearing black and had a star tattooed on his wrist. The man supposedly stole 200$ and a case of beer from Bob's convenient store and ran off. Benjamin Parker had attempted to stop the thief.

Time and date of Death was 11:08pm on the 1st of February.

Subject was shot in upper left portion of chest, killing him immediately.

No arrests have been made.

I shuddered.

What a terrible way to die.

Peter must have been devastated. I hope he didn't blame himself, because he shouldn't Fight's happen all the time, it was just unlucky.

The part that made me curious was the fact that a little while after his death, Spider-man appeared. Could that have been linked? Maybe, if Peter was Spider-man, it had sparked something inside of him. Maybe that's why Spider-man saved people, because if it was Peter, he couldn't save his uncle.

The next name I searched was:

Gwen Stacy

On the 21st of August Gwendolyn Stacy fell to her death.

At around 10:54pm that night, Gwendolyn was at the abandoned clock tower, located near the power station. The anonymous Spider-man was attempting to save the city from Electro, also known as Max Dillon. In attempt to help, Gwendolyn went to the power station. Since she worked at Oscorp, she was familiar with the grid specs of the power station and was knowledgeable in resetting the entire system.

There was only one known witness, Peter Parker, and he quotes, "I watched Spider-man fight Max Dillon, and then I saw Gwen walk up to the clock tower. I don't know what she was doing, maybe she was getting a better look. But then I heard a scream, a crash, and by the time I got there she was on the ground."

Loose gears as well as bars and stairs were found on the floor prior to Stacy's death.

She had fallen, stepping on a loose step and her neck snapped due to the impact of hitting the floor.

"Peter…" I whispered to myself. A hand flew to my mouth, to stop the whimpers that were trying to escape. He had lost so many people. He didn't deserve that. A stray tear fell from my left eye, slowly falling down until it picked up enough speed and fell into my lap.

I started clicking through pictures of her, a memorial page on Midtown High school's website.

She was so beautiful.

My blonde hair and blue eyes resembled hers, actually.

I wish I had befriended Gwen and gotten to know her better.

A knock emerged from my bedroom door, causing me to slam my laptop shut and shove it underneath my bed.

"Hey," Peter poked his head through the crevasse of the door and my bedroom. "Sam let me in," He explained, "Are you okay?"

I relaxed when I saw his face, pulling one of my legs up to my chest and wrapping my arm around it. "Yeah."

He stepped into my room, shutting the door behind him, "Last night you were acting all weird."

"I was drunk."

Peter bit his lip.

"What do you want, Peter?" I asked eager to get back to my research. Being around him made me feel awkward. What if he was Spider-man…?

"I was just going to ask if you wanted to um— or maybe you know we could… Or we could uh— " He quirkily rubbed the nape of his neck, his brown eyes peeking through the messy brown hair.

I licked my lips, standing up from my bed, "Um, sure." I tied my hair into a ponytail, unwrapped myself from the blanket burrito I was in, and grabbed my purse. "Let's go," I said, leading him anywhere but in my room in case he checked my laptop.

We walked onto the main road in silence, which was surprising for us. We were literally best friends and always had something to talk about. I couldn't help being so awkward about the situation though…

We walked to Bean's n Crème, ordering our usual coffees. I had booked the weekend off for Sam's birthday, which they were okay with.

"Thanks," I said after he paid for my coffee.

He gave me a huge grin, which reminded me off the first smile he gave me that day at work. "No problem."

"Can I ask you something?" We sat down outside on the cold metal chairs. I shivered, pulling my knit scarf tighter around me.

"You just did," He smirked.

I shook my head, smiling, "No, I mean, well— how come you decided to talk to me that day at work?"

He shrugged, "I could ask you the same thing."

"You looked miserable," I replied, "You looked so lost, and like you needed a friend. But, hey, you were the one who followed me to go alarm clock shopping."

"I did not stalk you!"

"I never said stalk." I giggled.

His laugh faded, "I don't know. You just kind of reminded me of Gwen. Long blonde hair, 5'7, and etcetera."

Was that a compliment? Should I be happy…? "Oh."

He took a sip of his coffee, avoiding eye contact with me. "Yeah, but you're nothing like her."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. You're so adventurous and I like that. And your personality is so wayward, which isn't a bad thing. I feel like we're pretty similar in that way. Like whenever you say something I just feed off of you. You're larger-than-life personality keeps me away from all the shit in my life. That's why I stick around you, I guess. And you're definitely thick-skinned which is nice, because you get my ridiculous jokes that aren't funny, I know that they aren't. You're just laughing to be polite."

"Meh, some of them are funny," I teased.

He rolled his eyes, and I let him continue. I liked hearing about myself. "Sometimes I want to kill you and your sarcasm. Well; most of the time I want to kill you because of your sarcastically witty remarks, but hey, you're not that bad." He smirked to himself, "Because you also have this compassionate side to you, you know? I like that." He smiled.

I flushed red. I'd never heard Peter talk about me like that. It made me giddy inside. I felt my heartbeat pick up. It thudded so loudly that I actually considered that Peter might have heard it. I couldn't find my words to say anything nice back without embarrassing myself, so I just used my sarcasm to charm him, "Peter Parker? Being nice?"

He rolled his eyes, "Whatever," and beamed at me.

"In all seriousness though, that was pretty sweet, Pete." I looked down at my hands, interlocking them together. My palms felt sweaty.

"I know."

I felt myself blushing.

When the blaring noise of police cars skidded by us, I watched Peter jolt up, as expected. He pulled out his phone, "I have to go. Spider-man's spotted in Times Square. Can I take a rain check on this?"

I nodded, smiling. I wasn't smiling at the fact he wanted to hang out again, although that made me pleased, I was smiling because this was my chance. Instead of letting Peter run off, I would follow him.

When I saw him slip his backpack over his shoulder and sprint off towards the sirens, I followed him. I watched him dart street down street, and then he stopped in the quietest alley I had ever seen in New York.

I hid behind the stone wall, waiting for him to come back out.

But he never came back.

When I peered around the corner, all that was left was a backpack, zipper only half closed. I scanned the alley, making sure no one was there, and then trotted over to it.

I unzipped it to divulge a white t-shirt, jeans, and Peter's famous black sneakers. It was the exact same outfit he was wearing just moments ago.

Unless he miraculously got kidnapped, and the mugger left his clothes, in the span of ten seconds, then I highly doubted Peter wasn't Spider-man. It was pretty obvious.

This made everything clear, seeing his backpack full of clothes.

Peter always left unannounced because he was saving the rest of the city. He was aiding to innocent people that needed his help.

So Peter was, in fact, Spider-man.

It wasn't just some drunken theory I made in my head.

All I could think of when I walked home is how un-similar the two are. Peter was so shy and kept to himself. He was a complete nerd, and his life revolved around skateboarding and science. Spider-man seemed so courageous and out-going. I guess he could act however he wanted when he had that mask on. No one knew he was, he was anonymous.

So Peter Parker was Spider-man…

Should I tell him? No. What was I supposed to say? He would probably run off if he knew I knew. Pete was just that type of guy. He would do it to keep me safe, I know that, but I didn't want Peter to leave.

As far as he's concerned, I know nothing of him being Spider-man.

And it would stay that way, until he decides he's ready to tell me, if that ever happens.

I hope it would.

Dr. Hendrix couldn't believe he had done it. He had finally created a serum that would bring back his hearing, no thanks to Dr. Taylor.

He was the one who caused all this. At least, he was the only one to blame.

The lab explosion had caused the loss of most of his hearing. Science experiments cost a price and he wasn't talking about money. He was sick of the endless surgeries, the new hearing aids; he felt a lot older then he should have.

It wasn't even his fault. It was David Taylor's fault.

They weren't even supposed to be in the lab. It was after hours. But they were so close… They were so close to accomplishing the perfect serum to inject into humans for human testing next week. They were attempting to take an opossum's lethal toxin neutralizing factor protein to help with the immunity of lethal venom injections such as snake bites, scorpions, bee stings, and etcetera. They had injected the LTNF protein into rats, and it was successful in granting the rodents immunity to otherwise lethal venoms but they needed to make it compatible with humans. Next thing you know, they mixed a wrong chemical and the whole section of Oscorp blew up in flames.

He told him to wait. He dictated him to wait for Doctor Connor's holler. But no, David wasn't patient. He thought that if he didn't take the chance and mix the two serums and the chemical together, that they would run out of time and it would be ineffective.

As a result, he lost his hearing; Curt Connors lost his arm and the only thing David Taylor lost was his patches of skin in his leg, and maybe his position as head Cross-Species Genetic Biological scientist. They were able to repair most of his leg, make it look normal, but Dr. Hendrix? He would never get his hearing back.

Until now.

He could hear the laughter of children as he passed, the sound of quite chatter as he passed a coffee shop on the corner, the cry of a girl who had just scraped her knee falling on the sidewalk, the busy honks of inpatient drivers on United Boulevard. It was amazing.

But that wasn't the only thing he heard. He could hear a woman shout at her husband in the apartment building down the block, he could hear a car accidently rear end the city bus down the street, and he could hear a dog barking inside a parked SUV by the coffee shop he passed two blocks ago.

He could hear better than any human.

How was this possible?

He didn't understand, but he liked it.

He just prayed it didn't turn out like Curt Connor's experiment. We didn't need another giant lizard roaming New York City.

He would just have to keep injecting the serum every so often, like a flu shot. Once every few days should do it. And once he was out, he would run back to Oscorp, apologize for his unannounced leave of absence, and use the facilities that were accessible to him.

It was so blissful to hear loud noise again.

But part of him had this rage inside of him.

This rage grew and grew. He was fuming with fury. What if this injection changed him? Dr, Taylor was to blame. It was his entire fault. It was only a matter of time before he got his revenge.

He was like a kettle boiling; he could feel the madness bubbling through him.

He could feel the blood rise to his cheeks.

His normally calm and pleasant demeanor slowly changed and his face contorted in an all - consuming anger.

David Taylor would pay for the 10 years of silence he suffered.

"Another missing person's report goes out to Diana Springfield. The 48 mark ended an hour ago. She was last seen leaving her home in Forest Hills. She is 21 years old, with brunette hair and looking to be about 135lbs. She was last seen wearing black pants and a black sweater. She is 5'8 but is sustained to a wheelchair. Manufacturing number 3408. This is NYC News with Rob Martin, Good Afternoon New York."

I flicked the television off, turning to Sam and Peter. "That's the second missing person's report this week." I shivered, "Think there's some crazy psycho murderer roaming around New York?"

Peter smirked, laughing a bit.

"They're not going to find her. Nor are they going to find that other dude, or the Doctor." Sam shrugged.

I thought about Dr. Hendrix, one of the scientists my father worked with. It made me speculate if the three cases were connected. You never knew in a town as big as NYC. It could have been a complete coincidence, or it could have been a kidnapping spree. "You don't think so?" I questioned, although I knew she was right.

She shook her head. "Finding a specific person in New York is like finding hay in a needle stack."

Peter burst out laughing.

I giggled too, "Um, I think it's the other way around, Sam."

"Whatever," She rolled her eyes. "I'm heading to my room to study for exams. I suggest you two do the same." She pointed two fingers at Peter and I while we lolled over the immense couch. Peter had been over all morning, and it was starting to hit noon. I was still in my pajamas when he showed up with McDonalds breakfast.

He had been ignoring my calls and texts the last few days, which I secretly knew why, so he decided to make up for it today.

He was always so busy lately, and I wasn't talking about studying for exams. He never came into my work anymore, he was always staying up late (Probably because he was saving damsel's in distress that decided a late night walk would be nice) and whenever I saw him the purple bags under his eyes seemed to deepen. The only time I saw him in the past week was when I visited for dinner at his and May's. Even then, May invited me, not Peter.

It would be nice in a few weeks when exams ended and winter break started. It would give him one less thing to stress about.

I still really couldn't wrap my head around the idea that he was Spider-man. I had to see him in action, watch for the similarities between him and Peter.

I was waiting for the perfect opportunity.

"She's right," Peter started, standing up on the couch, "We should really start studying."

I nodded. "I haven't even started my film notes. We're supposed to digitally design something in the span of two hours for media class, like a logo for a fake company. I don't even have an idea of what to do yet."

Peter smirked, pulling on his hoodie, "Well if I think of anything I'll let you know."

I gave him a glum closed-lipped smile. "Thanks".

The stress was starting to hit me now and I wasn't very fond of it.

"See you when you don't look so stressed about exams?"

I nodded giving him a small smile. "See you when you get a little more sleep," I suggested, watching the purple bags deepen in color by every second.

"I'm fine." He shook off my comment.

I rolled my eyes and opened the door. I pressed my hand to his back and pushed him out the door, "GO take a nap, Parker."

"I'm seriously fine, Em."

"Go," I smiled, nodding outside.

"Okay," He yawned, walking out of Sam and I's apartment.

I shut the door, and found myself smiling, no, beaming. That boy just had this effect on me. No matter what, he always made me happy, joyful. I was thankful to have him in my life. Sometimes I wished he wouldn't push me away so much, but I understood the reason why he did. He was fearful of getting close to someone and then losing them, like with Gwen.

To be honest, I think we had gotten extremely close already. If we had gotten any closer, it wouldn't make a difference.

Part of me wanted to be more with Peter, but the other part of me knew it would never happen.

The knowledge of that left a little hole in my heart.

It ached for him, but I would just have to live with Peter's choices. I would rather have him then not at all.

"You're in love with him."

My feet whipped around to the voice. Sam stood there, arms crossed over her chest with a sly smile.

"What?" I shook my head, "No, no. I'm not."

"You totally are in love with him."

"I'm not, Sam." I narrowed my eyes at her, biting my lip. "I've only known him a few months."

"You've known him waaaaaay longer than that."

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, but, I mean, I've only gotten close with him now."

"So, you're still in love with him." She grinned.

"I'm not. I can assure you that." My heart started to flutter as we talked about being in love with Peter.

"Well you must feel something for him!" She threw her hands in the air.

I bit my lip. I did feel something for Peter, but I wasn't so sure if he felt the same way…

"Oh my God!" Her grin expanded, "You do! You like Peter."

"No." I shook my head, "No no!"

"You do! You like Peter." She chimed, clapping her hands together in excitement. "I'm so happy!"

"Please, no. Don't say anything to Peter."

"I won't" She smiled, crossing her arms again.

"I knew it."

I rolled my eyes, starting towards my room.

"He likes you too, you know."

I shook my head, "Don't be silly, Sam."

"I'm serious. The way he looks at you when you're watching the television, the way he smiles whenever he hears your voice, it's pretty clear."

I shook my head.

"I can tell because—"

She stopped.

"Because what?" I pushed.

She licked her lips, "Because he used to look at Gwen that way."

My gaze fell to the floor. Could what she was saying be true?

"He would never like me. Or at least, he would never admit it anyways. I think he's too scared to love someone again. He's too afraid to lose them."

"Well, maybe he can make an exception." She game a small smile, before descending into the kitchen.

I pondered about her words, taking them in as I headed to my bedroom and pulled out my notes. Maybe I was his exception.

I hope I would be his exception.