September 14th - 2019
No matter if half a decade goes by, I still find myself in situations like these.
Spider-Man jumped onto Wilson Fisk's back and webbed his face, blocking his sight. He then wrapped both arms tightly around Fisk's neck. "Stay still, Willy!"
They grappled in the darkness of his lavish living room. The only source of light emanated from the open balcony, where the moon cast its glow upon Fisk's private tower in Manhattan.
Fisk struggled in Spider-Man's grip, attempting to remove the webbing from his face. "Why are you helping her? Why can't you just leave me alone in my own house?!"
"Hey, I just got here!" Spider-Man swung his fist across the Kingpin's cheek.
Situations where it's not just about me. There's someone else around... someone close to me.
Fisk shook his head as he pulled the webbing from his face. He raised his arms above him and yanked Spider-Man off his back and into his hands. "I'm tired of you two!" He held Spider-Man in the air and then slammed the vigilante's back onto his knee.
Spider-Man gasped in extreme pain, rolling onto the ground. He immediately clutched his back, struggling to regain his footing as he writhed on the floor.
Fisk approached him menacingly. "I'm not as weak as Harry Osborn. I'll end you for good!" He clenched his fists, raising them menacingly above Spider-Man.
I try to push them away, but some of them just won't leave. What else can I do?
Spider-Man weakly uttered, "... don't do me a favor."
Fisk was about to deliver the final blow, his hands casting shadows over Spider-Man's lenses.
A feminine voice intervened, "Don't forget about me…!" The woman, dressed in a black outfit with white accents, spoke from behind Fisk. Her platinum blonde hair and blue eyes emerged from the shadows of the ceiling. Felicia Hardy quickly landed on Fisk's back, her pointy retractable claws digging across his face.
She wasn't the first Felicia he had met.
Even if she can take care of herself, I just can't… risk it.
Fisk abruptly shoved the cat burglar aside, covering his bloodied and scarred face with trembling hands. He glared at her with even more rage in his eyes, narrowing them on her.
Felicia took a cautious step back. "Oh, boy…"
Spider-Man, still recovering on the ground, raised his hand toward Black Cat. "... leave…"
I can't dare go through something like that again. I can't put someone in such a situation once again.
Fisk lunged at Felicia, pinning her harshly against the wall with his massive shoulder, causing the concrete to shatter behind her. Her black goggles shattered upon impact.
Yet, here we are… and I'm scared to death.
Fisk pressed his large hand against her face, repeatedly smashing the back of her head against the wall. He shouted, "Just die…!"
Spider-Man, now on his knees, watched Fisk slowly drain the life out of Felicia. It was a scene all too familiar to him. "No…!" He lunged forward, stopping right behind the crime lord, and delivered a brutal punch to Fisk's ribcage, the sound of bones cracking against his fist.
I just can't take any more chances.
Fisk staggered to the right from the blow, inadvertently releasing Black Cat. Spider-Man followed with a kick to the side of Fisk's knee, causing him to stumble.
Spider-Man looked down at Fisk, landing powerful punches on the Kingpin's cheeks, turning them red and bloodied. Blow after blow struck Wilson Fisk until he could barely focus on Spider-Man in front of him.
Black Cat slowly regained her senses, lying on her chest on the ground. She raised her chin to see Spider-Man. He wasn't stopping anytime soon. "S-Spider…!"
Spider-Man raised his knee against Fisk's chin, causing him to fall backward. Gasping heavily, Spider-Man ensured that Fisk was knocked out for the night.
He turned and approached Felicia, helping her sit on the ground to catch her breath. "Are you okay?" He wiped a trace of blood from her lower lip with his thumb.
She nodded slowly. "I've been… better." Looking into his lenses, she found her reflection and smiled. "Hey, I saved you."
He turned her head slightly to the side, checking the small purple stain on her cheek. "Don't ever do something like that again."
"It's fine… I'm fine." He helped her stand. She added, "I've never seen you like this."
"Like what?"
"This much concerned about me. You're spoiling me."
He scoffed, incredulously. "You're seeing things. I don't want you to get hurt, that's all."
She let out a painful chuckle. "Awn, I really missed you."
Spider-Man fell silent for a moment. "We should go now. You… should go."
Black Cat sighed. "There he is… all serious once again."
"You're lucky I was in the area. I won't be around every time to save your butt."
"Maybe I want you to."
"Stop." Spider-Man wrapped an arm around her back to support her.
Black Cat chuckled. "You know I just can't help. He seemed to have a lot of good stuff in here. We should take a look around while he's out."
"We won't. No more stealing for the night, Felicia." Spider-Man led her to the balcony. "We need to get you checked; you might have a concussion." He held her closer and swung them to the rooftop on the opposite side of the street.
"I can take care of myself, honey." She watched Spider-Man release his grip and approach the building's edge, scanning their surroundings. "I feel better already. We should go to my newest penthouse."
"There's a lot to do tonight," Spider-Man observed the crowd, seemingly protesting something in the streets.
"Like what?"
"Patrol."
She scoffed, moving up behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso. She whispered, "There's this champagne waiting for us."
He remained silent.
Felicia sighed. She let go of him, placing her hand on the side of her head. She gasped lightly.
He turned around, hands on her shoulders. "Are you okay?"
She leaned forward, resting her head under his chin. "I… I think so. I just felt… dizzy."
"If you won't get yourself checked, let me bring you to your penthouse. You can't go jumping around in this state."
"Of course… you played me. You were completely fine somehow." Peter cleaned the tiny wound on the back of Felicia's head with some gauze. They were both seated on the edge of her spacious, rounded bed. He faced her back, wearing nothing but the pants of his suit.
Arriving in her penthouse half an hour earlier, they had promptly tended to each other's injuries in the luxurious bedroom. The penthouse offered complete privacy and encompassed the entire 90th floor of the building.
Felicia winced in pain as his fingers gently brushed across the injury. She was now only clad in black underwear, a faint smile playing on her lips. "... you know I like to play."
"That seems to be getting you into trouble all the time." He ensured the bandage on the back of her head was secure. "I didn't know you were back."
"Did you miss me?"
"I certainly didn't miss fighting your battles." He tidied her hair, concealing the bandage. "You're fine now."
She turned around on the bed. "Thank you." Her gaze fell upon the tiny stitch she had applied earlier to his right shoulder and the claw marks on his chest. "Those won't ever fade away, huh?"
Peter glanced down at his toned chest and nodded. "Yeah… the Lizard was something else." He shifted his attention back to Felicia.
"More than the Six?"
He shrugged. "... I guess those guys were worse, yes."
She traced a finger over one of the said scars. "It suits you; I like them."
He smiled. "Don't change the subject now."
She sighed. "Well, I might have finished that… job earlier than expected."
He studied her curvaceous figure for a moment. "What was the job about?"
"Well, there was this… Russian mobster."
He raised an eyebrow. "Here?"
"Yes and no."
"Hmm, I didn't know they were still around."
She chuckled. "They certainly are. He was a tough one… but nothing my charm couldn't handle."
Peter fell silent briefly. "Right."
Felicia smiled. "Are you jealous?"
He scoffed and got up. "You wish."
She grinned. "Don't worry, I'm a professional. I save the best of me for you, you know how I only like good boys." She watched as he retrieved the rest of his suit from the ground. "Where are you going this late?"
He glanced at the balcony. "I need to do some patrolling again. You interrupted me."
"By yourself?"
"What, do you want to help me?" She struggled to respond. He smiled and continued. "I'm better on my own."
Felicia stood up and took the pieces of the suit from his hands. "You almost broke your back. You're not going anywhere, Spider." She threw the suit away.
He sighed. "Felicia…"
She led him back to the bed, where he sat on the edge. "It's been two years. I thought we would have gotten in touch again sooner. I... I've really missed you, quite a lot." She settled on his lap, her hands on his shoulders. The strap of her bra slipped off her right shoulder.
He moved his hands to her hips and gazed into her blue eyes. Teasingly, he remarked, "You're a bad influence, you know?"
"You're still here."
He chuckled. "... I am."
She smiled and planted a kiss on the corner of his lips. "I am going to take a shower now, okay?"
He teased, "You need it."
"Oh, so do you, mister!" She held his chin in her right hand. "... and then, we will have some champagne, and maybe we can order some sushi? Unless you have some other dish in mind?"
He ran his hands up her toned back. "No, that sounds great."
"Okay, do you want to join me in the shower?"
He shook his head. "You can go ahead. I'll order the food."
She exhaled deeply in disappointment. "There's a credit card on the counter."
"Is it even yours?"
She shrugged her shoulders.
He added, "... then I will pay for it."
"Fine. Suit yourself." Felicia moved off his lap. "Since you're this much of a prude, there's another bathroom here. You can shower there." She turned her back and headed for the wardrobe, adding sway to her hips as she walked away from him.
Peter briefly eyed her bottom, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away. "I will… yeah." He felt something soft brush against his leg and looked down to find a black kitty by his foot. "Who's this?"
Felicia selected a dark bathrobe from the wardrobe and glanced over her shoulder. "That's Minnie, and she does like affection."
"You named your cat after a mouse?" He asked, staring at Minnie.
She stepped into the bathroom, closing the door. "You have your quirks, and I have mine… Spider."
He caressed the top of Minnie's head, and she purred in response. "Something new every day."
Peter stood up and proceeded down the hallway past the bedroom door. From there, he had a view of the kitchen, equipped with top-of-the-line materials and appliances. He couldn't help but wonder how Felicia acquired such opulence.
"I won't even guess how you got this, Felicia," he muttered to himself.
Before entering the kitchen, he paused when he noticed what appeared to be a hidden door, nearly concealed within the wall. It was easily missed, blending seamlessly with the surrounding surface.
Through the partially open door, he glimpsed documents spread across a table and a large map on the wall. He looked around and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Why am I feeling uneasy? Felicia has done worse… right?" He pushed open the door and entered what appeared to be a panic room within the penthouse.
The room was lined with stands against the walls, each holding folders, while boxes were strewn across the floor.
Peter approached the only desk in the room, where papers and folders were neatly arranged. His gaze then fixed on the map of Manhattan, adorned with a couple of red circles marking specific areas on the island.
"What are you up to now…" He selected a document from the desk—a profile from the Federal Bureau of Prisons, bearing the name Walter Hardy.
His eyes narrowed at the paper. "... Hardy?" He noticed a photograph he had taken from the table—a cell engulfed in flames.
He glanced back at the map. More pictures were attached to it, depicting unfamiliar men in suits, some heavily tattooed—individuals he had never encountered before.
What do these people even mean to you, Felicia?
Now, freshly out of the shower, Felicia and Peter sat on stools beside each other at the kitchen countertop. They faced each other, both dressed in bathrobes.
Felicia delicately brought the chopsticks to her mouth, savoring the sashimi. She later remarked, "You know, you do look rather fetching in that bathrobe." Her gaze lingered on the exposed skin of his torso.
Peter struggled with his chopsticks. "Don't get too used to it."
She watched him attempt to pick up a piece of uramaki with the stick. "Do you need help with that?"
"I… I can handle it."
"Have you ever tried this before?"
He nodded, awkwardly guiding the uramaki to his mouth. "... yes, a few times." He focused on her piercing blue eyes.
She was surprised by his response. "... do you even like it? We can order something else if you prefer."
He chuckled. "I do, of course. It's just that I usually have to settle for... well, less expensive food. The Bugle doesn't pay much, and my rent won't pay itself."
She sighed. "I did tell you to use that cursed credit card…"
"At least you're self-aware."
She smiled and rolled her eyes. "Fair point." She placed her chopsticks beside her plate on the table. "I'm quite full now."
He smiled back and enjoyed one of the last pieces of sushi. "... you know, you haven't shared much about yourself." He attempted to gather more information about her, with thoughts of the secret room he had discovered still occupying his mind.
She tilted her head. "Do you still want to know more... about me?"
"I mean, I... only know your name because you talk in your sleep."
Felicia shrugged her shoulders. "Well, you've only recently become this talkative, and I don't know much about you either, aside from your aunt. So we're somewhat even." She added,
He teased, "Weren't you all about Spider-Man, though?"
"I'm talking to him right now."
He smiled to himself and set his chopsticks aside. "Of course."
"Isn't it enjoyable as it is? Does it need to be more... complicated?" She asked sincerely.
"No... it's better this way."
Felicia moved off her seat and stopped in front of him, between his legs. "Are you upset with me…?" She placed her right hand on his thigh.
He met her gaze directly and rested his hand on her waist. "Don't worry, I'm not." He smiled again and cupped her cheek with his right hand. "Maybe I should go now."
Their foreheads touched, and she whispered, "I'd like for you to stay here tonight."
She's looking at me differently. Something is... different about her tonight.
He closed his eyes. "Felicia, you… shouldn't be near me. You know how everything can turn messy real quick."
Felicia leaned to the side and planted another kiss near the corner of his lips. "I can handle it, Spider." She then slowly moved the bathrobe off his shoulders and slightly down his arms.
He met her eyes once again.
Why am I acting like this?
Felicia placed her right hand on his scarred chest. She had her lips near his. "I want you… right now." She questioned, "... will you be with me?"
This would be another note for my long list of mistakes.
Peter swiftly pulled her closer, her arms encircling his neck as she pressed her voluptuous body against his. Their lips met in a deep, lingering kiss, their tongues entwining in a passionate exploration of each other's mouths, savoring the taste.
As they parted, Felicia moved away slightly. She untied the strap of her bathrobe at her waist, allowing it to slide gracefully down her body, revealing her toned and slender form along with her curves and rounded breasts. In his eyes, she saw a hunger that mirrored her own desire.
Peter stepped off the stool and approached Felicia. His left arm snaked around her waist, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. Gently setting her on the counter, he made space by moving aside dinner leftovers with his free hand.
A gasp escaped Felicia's lips as she felt his hand delicately grasp her breast, squeezing with just the right pressure. His lips traced a path down her neck, and she couldn't help but moan at his touch. He captured her lips once more, his tongue exploring her mouth, igniting a fire within her that left her melting in his arms.
His hands moved to her buttocks, and he lifted her off the table, her legs wrapping around his waist. Carrying her through the hallway towards the bedroom, he continued to nip, lick, and suck on various places on her neck, coaxing louder moans from her lips.
As the bathrobe fell to the ground, Felicia felt something pressing against her. She looked down, realizing that Peter was still wearing his boxers. With a handful of his hair, she pulled him away from her neck and forced their eyes to meet.
She questioned, "Why are you still wearing clothes under that bathrobe?"
He firmly pushed her against one of the bedroom walls, pinning her body down with his and allowing his hands to roam everywhere. "I thought you enjoyed playing."
She smiled and threw her head back against the wall as he moved his lips lower, peppering gentle kisses, delicate licks, and soft bites along her shoulders, collarbone, chest, and the valley between her breasts. Anticipation burned within her. Eventually, he lowered his lips to her nipple and began pleasuring her there.
Felicia let out another moan as she closed her eyes and instinctively pressed his head closer to her chest with both her hands. Reaching for his bulge, she began stroking him. Keeping her legs close and wrapped around him, Peter felt her warm arousal against his pair of boxers and later his member as they continued grinding against each other.
He planted another kiss in the valley between her breasts and whispered against the smooth skin of her chest, "... don't you want me to put on the mask again?"
She made him look at her once more. Their dilated eyes locked in an intense gaze.
"... tell me your name again."
He cupped her cheek with his left hand. "... Peter."
Felicia caressed the back of his head as they locked eyes on each other. She smiled, revealing an entirely different woman beneath the facade Peter knew so well. She felt his hand move to her intimate warmth and caress her there. She breathed heavily into his mouth and later pressed her lips to his, kissing him deeply and passionately. She moaned in contentment as she pushed them off the wall with her elbows.
Peter began walking backward toward the bed behind them, their tongues still entwined in a passionate dance. His feet collided with the bed, and he immediately sat down on the edge of the mattress with Felicia in his lap. She rested her knees beside his hips and pushed his chest down onto the bed with her right hand. He then dragged them further into the middle as Felicia straddled him.
Once they settled into a comfortable position on the bed, Felicia moved her right hand and caressed his toned and scarred chest with her fingertips, tracing small circles on his skin. His left hand tenderly stroked Felicia's cheek, and he later moved a lock of her platinum hair behind her ear. She leaned her head down toward his neck and gently bit it. She set a trail of kisses down to his toned chest as he raised his head from the bed and watched her surprisingly soft hand move from his pectoral to his abdomen.
Her hand eventually reached his boxers and paused just above his erection. She gripped him firmly. "Let me take care of you now... Peter." Slowly, she pulled his boxers down as he dropped his head back onto the bed.
As the night rain continued to pour, Peter found himself lying on his back, bare and exposed, on the left side of Felicia's bed. The sheets stretched up to his abdomen, and he had been gazing at the ceiling for almost half an hour since their shared encounter.
Felicia lay on her right side, facing the room's balcony, her bare back turned to her companion. She appeared to be deeply immersed in slumber.
Minnie, their ever-silent observer, now rested in her usual spot near their feet.
Peter's attention was drawn to a minuscule spider gracefully navigating the ceiling. Its movements were easier to discern whenever it ventured into the patches of natural light spilling in from the balcony.
There's a silence that follows. Not a word exchanged, not even a mention of what drove her to visit Wilson Fisk. We don't talk about our... whatever it is.
Turning his gaze towards the woman beside him, he studied the naked contours of her back. His fingertip traced a couple of very faint scars with great care, so as not to awaken her.
She's stunning in every imaginable way. Somehow, she occupies my thoughts from time to time. Getting close to her, again, it's unnerving... it makes me want to... communicate.
Moving closer to Felicia, he gently twirled his fingers in a lock of her hair, offering a smile in the privacy of her sleep.
I shouldn't, but she manages to break through, to have her way... or so I tell myself. The truth is, for a moment, she makes me feel better; she makes me feel... alive. I always find a way to seek more trouble, and this could never end well for either of us.
He nuzzled into her hair, then lowered his nose to her neck, inhaling her natural fragrance.
... but perhaps, for this one night, I should let myself be.
Pulling the sheets up to her shoulders, he wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her closer. Their bodies aligned perfectly. Felicia moaned contentedly in her sleep.
Maybe I shouldn't let guilt consume me over this.
Peter sighed and closed his eyes, seeking comfort and attempting to rest his mind for as long as possible in Felicia's presence. It didn't take him long to reopen his eyes, taking in another deep breath. He raised his chest and tenderly kissed her bare shoulder before placing his feet on the cold floor.
Not tonight.
He petted Minnie and retrieved his suit from the floor, slipping it on. Stepping out onto the balcony's rail, he stood beneath the falling rain, his gaze fixed on the city below. Casting one last glance over his shoulder at Felicia.
Spider-Man catapulted into the air, swinging away from the penthouse and disappearing into the rainy city. In the quiet aftermath, Felicia opened her eyes just as he vaulted off the balcony. Lying on her bed, her gaze lingered on the cityscape and its towering buildings. Eventually, she buried her head in the pillow, releasing a deep, heavy sigh.
September 15th - 2019
"Could you pass me some tomatoes, Miles?" Peter finished heating the saucepan inside the kitchen at F.E.A.S.T.'s building. He glanced at the table of ingredients beside him, near the sink.
On the wall near the kitchen entrance, an old TV, currently muted, hung high against the wall.
"Sure thing," Miles Morales retrieved a box of vegetables from the nearest stand and placed it by the sink. He selected a couple of tomatoes and placed them next to Peter.
"Thanks," Peter nodded with a quick smile and began to halve the tomatoes horizontally, deftly removing the seeds and setting them aside. "I hope people like it."
"They will, and I'm glad to help." Miles cleared the leftover ingredients from the table and disposed of them in the trash near the sink. He approached Peter again. "So, you know how to cook. Did May teach you?"
"Well, partly, yes… but once you leave your parents' home and strike out on your own, you have to figure out a few things for yourself." He glanced at Miles and smiled. "I can't survive on pizza alone, can I? Especially with my limited budget."
They shared a chuckle. Miles inquired, "What about you? Do you cook often?"
Peter pressed the cut side of the tomato against the large holes of the box grater, grating the tomato flesh into a bowl Miles had placed beneath his hands.
"Not really, I don't have the time or money for that," Peter admitted. "And even if I did, I'm not sure I'd be into it. How about you?"
"I've never really had the chance," Miles confessed.
Peter added salt, olive oil, tomato paste, garlic, basil, and a bay leaf to the pan. "You're fifteen, right?" Miles nodded. "Well, there will be plenty of opportunities for that in the future."
"Honestly, I'm not sure it's my thing either," Miles said with uncertainty.
Peter chuckled. "You say that now."
"I don't even know how to… talk to girls, and neither does my friend," Miles confessed. "I'd probably embarrass myself. Isn't that what people do at parties?"
Peter added salt, olive oil, tomato paste, garlic, basil, and bay leaf to the pan. "Well… kind of? We all start somewhere, Miles."
"Are you like… experienced?"
Peter chuckled again. He waited for the contents of the saucepan to start to boil. "With parties? Far from it. You're better off doing your own thing, Miles."
Miles let out a heavy sigh.
Peter continued, "What you can learn from me, though, is how to finish this tomato sauce. I'll go find the sausages. Here, take the spoon for now."
"Okay," Miles agreed, stepping into Peter's place and taking the spoon.
"I need you to stir and cook it until it's all softened. You'll know when it's ready."
Miles began stirring the sauce with some awkwardness, worried about making a mistake. "Are you sure about this?"
"Absolutely," Peter reassured him before leaving for the food storage room on the left. As he entered, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Retrieving it, he opened a text from Jefferson Davis. The screen's light caused him to squint.
JD: Call me when you can. We might need your help tonight. It's a big one again.
Miles called from the kitchen, "There's a light switch in there."
Peter furrowed his brows as he searched for the switch. "Let there be light." He flipped the switch, illuminating the small, previously dark room. "Ah, there they are."
He gathered half a dozen sausage packs into his arms and returned to the kitchen, closing the storage room door with his foot. He placed the bags near the oven. "Here we go."
Miles smiled. "Nice, this is going to turn out great." He continued stirring with the spoon.
"I hope so," Peter agreed as he began opening the plastic bags. "By the way, how's your dad?"
"Oh, you know him?"
Peter paused and cleared his throat. "Well, I've heard about him. People talk about him here from time to time, especially since he brought some of them here."
"Oh, yeah! Right, of course," Miles chuckled. "He's… well, he's working on a big case right now, but he doesn't share much."
Peter smiled. "That's how it should be, I suppose."
"Hey, you two!"
Peter and Miles turned toward the entrance, spotting May Parker with a six-year-old blonde girl in tow. May smiled at the pair.
"Hi, Aunt May," Peter greeted from his spot. He then noticed the little girl, whose green eyes locked onto him, causing his heart to race slightly.
He shook his head to regain his composure and watched as May approached them. She hugged Miles first before reaching for her nephew. The young girl stood beside Miles.
Peter smiled. "I thought you could use a hand, considering all the people you're feeding. You practically run this place."
"Thank you, honey. It's greatly appreciated," May replied with a smile as they embraced. "How are you doing?"
"I'm fine, as always. How about you?"
She sighed. "Busy… very busy."
Peter teased, "You did give up nursing to help out here."
"Fair point," they shared a laugh.
Peter turned his attention to the girl. "Who's your... friend?"
May looked back at the child. "Oh, this is Alice." She placed a hand on the child's shoulder. "Alice, this is Peter, my nephew."
"Hi..." Alice greeted timidly.
Peter nodded in acknowledgment. "Hey..."
May smiled. "Alice and her mother have been staying with us since yesterday. They were having trouble back home, so they are here now."
"I see," Peter replied.
May turned to Miles. "Could you show her around, Miles?"
"Of course, ma'am," Miles replied, lowering the fire intensity under the saucepan and leaving the spoon on the table. He smiled at Alice. "Hey, Alice. There's a room I think you'll like, with lots of toys."
They left the kitchen, leaving the two Parkers alone.
May took her nephew's right hand in hers. "I've missed you. It's been a couple of weeks since you showed up."
"I'm... sorry, sometimes there's just... a lot going on." He added, "I did send you texts, though."
"Did you? Well, something might be up with my phone. Maybe you could take a look at it now that you're here?"
"I will, of course." He teased, "It's that time of the month when I have to clear the junk from your phone."
"Right?" She grinned. "Oh, have you seen what Jameson has been saying about Spider-Man?"
"I haven't, no. I'll bring some photos to him tomorrow."
"Apparently, Spider-Man and this... Black Cat assaulted Wilson Fisk in his home?"
Peter chuckled. "Assaulted? Well, I never thought I'd see the day when we're talking like this about Wilson Fisk of all people."
"I know, right?" She pondered, "What do you think of this... cat lady? I've never seen Spider-Man partner up with someone before."
"Well... I don't know. I hope she doesn't... cause trouble for him?"
May rested her hands on his shoulders. "So do I, honey." She added, "You can be here more often, you know? You'll always be welcome here. People do like you."
"I... I know. I promise I'll show up more."
May smiled. "Oh, that reminds me... you almost got to meet Anna's niece today."
Peter frowned. "Who?"
"Anna, our neighbor for a few years. Her niece has been helping us for the past couple of days."
"That's... good. But what does that have to do with me, Aunt May?"
May grinned. "Well, she's a striking young woman... I'll tell you. She's also helping me with Alice; I think they've become friends."
"I'm not really looking to... date right now, if that's what you mean."
"Hey, I didn't say anything. I'm just saying that you two should have met; maybe you will." She added, "What harm could it do?"
"There's no harm, May... it's just that..." He began opening the sacks and moving the sausages into the pan. "I don't see the point right now."
"What are you... afraid of, Peter? I can't... help you unless you talk to me, honey."
Peter stopped and looked over his shoulder, assuming a more serious tone and expression. "I'm not afraid of anything, May."
She stood still for a moment. "I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."
Peter cleared his throat, recomposing himself. "It's alright... I... yeah, it's okay."
May closed the distance between them and raised her chin to look him in the eyes. She moved her hand to the back of his head and brought him closer to her, planting a soft kiss on his forehead.
Peter closed his eyes at the touch, and they locked gazes once again.
She started, "I'm here... for you, always. Please don't shut me out of your life."
"... I won't."
May turned to leave, then noticed the TV behind her nephew. "Isn't that... Eugene?"
He looked over his shoulder at the TV high on the wall near the entrance.
The newsman reported, "Nine more U.S. soldiers with battlefield injuries from the latest clashes in Afghanistan arrived this afternoon for post-treatment at the Manhattan hospital, raising the number of recently war-wounded brought in for post-surgery treatment to 16."
A heavily bandaged Flash Thompson appeared in one of the images, weakly waving to the cameras from his hospital bed as they disembarked from the military plane.
Peter cleared his throat. "Jesus Christ... Flash." He looked at May. "I didn't know... we haven't talked in... so many years."
"Maybe you could... check on him once he's cleared for visits. He might need a friendly face."
He looked away and sighed heavily. "I'll... see what I can do."
Spider-Man swung through the night in New York City and landed on the rooftop of a small building at the docks. Jefferson Davis was already there, scanning the three-story warehouse across the street.
"What's the plan for tonight, Captain?"
"We might have another weapons cache on our hands," Jefferson said, holding a police radio in his right hand. He pointed to the police trucks stationed outside the warehouse. "We'll be moving in any minute now. There could be surprises inside."
"Do you think it's the same group as last time?"
"Most likely. There's a clear pattern in each location."
Spider-Man observed the warehouse, shrouded in darkness. "Do we have a name or any leads?"
"Well, my best guess is we might be dealing with the Maggia again."
"Maggia? Aren't they pretty dangerous?"
"It depends on which family you're dealing with. They used to control most of the loan-sharking, illegal gambling, and narcotics trade... among other things." Jefferson paused, "When we get involved, something big is happening."
"Damn," Spider-Man muttered. He perched on the edge of the rooftop. "You think... there might be Russians involved?"
Jefferson nodded. "Highly likely."
"Maybe I should go in first then."
Jefferson stopped him. "It's better if you stay with me for now, just in case. Some officers still aren't thrilled with what you did last time."
"I did what needed to be done."
"You trapped them with your webs in a room and confronted the Tinkerer in his cell."
"...and I got the information we needed from him. I disarmed those bombs," Spider-Man added. "Look, it's done. The job got done."
"It doesn't work like that, Spider-Man. We'll handle this together. That's what I promised when they questioned why I keep bringing you along."
"I'll be here, but if they can't handle it..." Spider-Man glanced over his shoulder at Jefferson. "I'll handle this place myself."
"We need to do this the right way."
Spider-Man sighed heavily. "I can't take any risks, not anymore."
Jefferson fell silent, allowing Spider-Man to continue.
"I've taken down a lot of people, I've lost count... but I know why they're off the streets. They're out so the people I care about and all those in this city can stay alive, so I can keep going for them. You should understand that."
"Is this about...?" Jefferson trailed off when Spider-Man turned away. "I may not wear a mask, but I understand the sentiment. There's something in you I've seen in officers who've been through rough times in the field."
They stood in contemplative silence.
Jefferson's radio buzzed, "Alpha 3, moving to the rear park."
"Alpha 3, this is Bravo 7, heading through the main gates."
He motioned towards the area. "They're moving in. We might find those stashes any moment now."
"If anything else comes up, keep me informed," Spider-Man requested.
Jefferson nodded. "Of course, Spider-Man. Will do."
They continued to watch the situation unfold from their rooftop vantage point. About twenty minutes passed.
"Alpha 3, we've located the stashes. Proceeding to secure the area."
Jefferson crossed his arms. "Seems like we're in for a quiet night. No signs of resistance so far."
Spider-Man eyed the warehouse warily. "Yeah... but that's usually not a good sign."
September 16th - 2019
In the quiet and chilly morning at Queen's Lutheran Cemetery, Peter ascended the small cliff that led to his destination, a place etched into his memory. He draped a dark coat over his shoulders as he approached the stone he had come to visit.
Gwendolyne Stacy - 1995 / 2014.
Always loving, always loved…
Peter drew in a deep breath and offered a tender smile to the engraved name. "Hey, Gwendy." He reached up to rub the bridge of his nose as his hand momentarily covered his face. "It's been a few days... I'm sorry for that."
His gaze returned to the stone. "But I brought you something." Crouching down, he withdrew a chocolate bar from his coat pocket and gently placed it in the neatly trimmed grass beside the marker.
"It should help with your chocolate house," he remarked with a soft chuckle, his finger still resting on the bar as he studied her name. He lowered his chin. "This place... it's so quiet, peaceful."
His hand slid off the chocolate bar and came to rest on top of the stone. "I'm so sorry for what happened to you..." His voice quivered. "...and to your father, for all the losses your family endured."
Peter cleared his throat, a solitary tear escaping his left eye. "Maybe if I'd tried harder, done things differently, listened more... maybe you'd still be here."
Lifting his chin, he focused on the clear sky overhead. "It's been tough, really tough. What you wanted from me, from all of us... it hasn't been easy. I've been trying... but it feels like I'm on the brink of making a grave mistake more often than not. Sometimes I even see you... just like I did with your father."
He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, Gwendy. I was supposed to, but all of this... it's still for you, everything." His gaze dropped to the ground. "It felt right from the start. You called me Spider-Man, you designed the suit. Everything I do, it's for you. Nothing's ever going to change that."
Peter offered a faint smile. "I've been having dreams about you lately... we were a bit older, we had a... son, and you were so happy, Gwendy, incredibly happy. I've never wanted to hold onto a dream more than that one." He tenderly traced the stone with his fingertip. "It was a beautiful dream... I hope, in some other life, somewhere, it can be a reality."
Standing up, he tucked his hands into his coat pockets. "I love you so much."
Peter turned away from the gravestone of his former love as the wind scattered leaves along his path. He knew there was much to be done, and numerous people to deal with. The city needed him, and he needed the city in return. Otherwise, he wouldn't know how to cope with the profound pain within him.
Peter Parker clung to hope once more, as it was what the love of his life would have wished for him.
A/N: Hi! Thank you for reaching the end of the chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. This idea popped into my head, and I quickly put it down because I felt like writing another Spider-Man story, specifically for Andrew Garfield's movies. Among the live-action versions, I find his portrayal the most engaging and full of potential in terms of storytelling. Spider-Man as a character is like a drug, incredibly addictive. I often tell myself I won't write more about him, but here I am.
After completing my long story, I wrote a short one called "Perseverance," which was a story I particularly wanted to tell. Now, it's the same situation with this story. I stumbled upon something I felt was worth writing about, and I didn't want to return to similar concepts. I made a conscious effort to make this tale distinct from what I've posted here before.
While "No Way Home" served as inspiration, the story is not directly tied to it. As I developed the concepts and scenarios, the bulk of the story began to take shape, and I'm genuinely proud of what I've accomplished. I spent a lot of time contemplating these ideas, even during those thoughtful showers and deep thoughts before sleep. From the beginning, my intention was to follow up on the canonical events of "The Amazing Spider-Man 2" while incorporating information provided about Andrew's Peter in "No Way Home." As stated in the summary, this chapter/story aims to explore how these characters would relate to each other after tragic events. Each character has their own story to tell. We have a Peter Parker who still hasn't recovered from the death of his lover, and perhaps he could find solace in the people around him.
I chose to rate the story 'M' because it provides me with more freedom to address certain themes and scenes. Of course, the intimate scene between Felicia and Peter warranted such a rating, but I made a deliberate choice to conclude it before the climax because, from a storytelling perspective, I didn't believe there was a need to cover the entire act. However, I'm open to feedback on this. There may be more similar situations; we'll have to wait and see. Writing the scenes and dialogues for Felicia and Peter was a joy. I've always wanted to see "The Amazing Spider-Man 3" with scenes involving them.
Speaking of Felicia, there is another Felicia in this story, the one I consider the real Felicia Hardy. This decision was influenced by my view that someone else would be a better fit for the role, and I wanted to avoid the story choices made for the character in "The Amazing Spider-Man 2." I aimed for a fresh take with no pre-established material regarding Felicia Hardy, and Peter never encountered the first Felicia in the canonical cut of the movie. The same goes for a possible redhead character. I won't focus on the Sinister Six aspect, as I've already covered that in another story; this element will remain in the background.
As for which actors I envision for the new characters, I do have them in mind, but I'm unsure whether I should reveal my choices. I considered using the story's cover to provide a primary image of their faces while allowing readers to make their own casting choices. However, if requested, I can share the names.
I'm uncertain about the possibility of a chapter 2. It depends on various factors, including my available free time. However, the story as it stands can function as a standalone chapter. I've made a point, and the seeds and foundations for more are already well established. The fate of all characters is determined, and there's a complete story outline in my notes. Their stories could intertwine further, but if there's more, I wouldn't expect it to span more than five chapters; this won't be a lengthy story.
I might have gone off track here, so once again, thank you for reading. Take care!
The story is named after the song "How to Save a Life" by The Fray.
09/30/23: I gave a face-lift to this chapter. Fixed some mistakes, improved cohesion and expanded on some story details.