A friend of a friend needed a favor
Life was just what happened while we were busy making plans
We never saw nothing, there was a run-in
.09 millimeter steel was coming for the windshield of that Oldsmobile
As the cop said, "Show your hands!"
While I did a double check on Dr. Osborn's anti-serum, I noticed, once again, (Y/n) breathing intensely down my neck. Her eyes were scanning every move I did and tutted when she thought I mixed something wrong when in reality I had done a minuscule movement or simply exhaled.
She got under my skin, so I cracked my knuckles. "Since you asked for it, Lawrence, you're next."
"Oh, I'm fine. I'm not broken like the fellas over here, honey." Her laugh sounded like she was running out of air but still trying to do the most stereotypical, villain-of-a-fairytail tone.
"You literally tried to stab us," I said while crossing my arms
"After taking hostages from a bank," Peter contributed.
"And I'm not sure about you, but I don't think it's normal for wings to mutate out of your spine. So, yeah. You're next, sugar."
"Ugh, fine. Just do it quickly." She willingly sat and stretched out her forearm. The room became silent. "What? So many doctors and geniuses in the room and no one can handle blood and a stupid needle?"
Norman turned from his corner. "I could, but I'm not sure my pulse is the same as it was before."
"I'll do it," said May. I knew she did all kinds of aid during the Blip, so perhaps her first aid training was useful. She took out Happy's medical kit and quickly did the whole procedure. Sooner rather than later, we placed the atoms under a microscope.
I checked them over and over again. I noticed it was a darker color than regular blood and that it seemed to react to certain components, but I had no clue what it meant... or how the hell was I supposed to cure it... or what 'curing it' would look like.
"What's wrong?" (Y/n) teased with fake sympathy.
I changed the lens of the microscope, hoping I could recall my notes from six years ago back in Midtown. "Let's just say biology isn't my forte."
She clicked her tongue in triumph. "Oh. Wouldn't it be nice to have a biochemical engineer? That'd save you lots of time."
"Just do it quickly," I gave in, taking the opportunity to mock her in the process. On a ripped page of a notebook, she scribbled down some steps on what we could type into the fabricator. "Thank you."
Speaking of the fabricator, it beeped, meaning Sandman's anti-collider for his cure finished making the first part. Peter came rushing in, screwdriver and determination at hand.
After a split second of silence, his head jerked upwards. I wouldn't have noticed something was wrong if he didn't have a blank horror stare on his face. Otto broke the silence. "Peter?"
Could it be the tingle? I removed my eyewear to focus on him. I wanted to go and touch his arm in comfort, but I wasn't sure if it would make it worse. Instead, I got closer to him and spoke in my softest voice: "Love? You okay?"
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know." He walked back to the living room. Even Lawrance seemed confused; she skipped behind me with her hands innocently placed behind her. "May?"
May came down the stairs with a scented candle in her grasp. Classic May. "What is it, Peter?"
"What's happening?" Flint pondered. I'd like to know too, dude.
Peter checked every villain, analyzing where the danger would emerge from. I followed his instincts. Not Flint Marko. Not Max Dillion. Not Otto Octavius. Not other me. Definitely not May or me.
I fabricated a light bow just in case we began a fight.
He gently closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The air could be cut with a knife as we waited what would Spiderman do. Nobody dared to move until a web flew by, landing straight on Dr. Osborn's wrist.
I wish I could describe how quickly and how eerily differently Norman's alter ego acted with precision. All the light and kindness inside of him faded— although flashing off is a much better way to picture it. A chill went down my spine as his grin twisted in delight. "That's some neat trick, that sense of yours." It's official: the Green Goblin's in control.
"Norman?" Otto dared asked, knowing maybe too well the uselessness of his pleas.
"Norman's on sabbatical, honey," the Goblin snarled, leaving us all confused as the switch in demeanors. "No more darker half? Did you really think that I'd let that happen? That I'd let you take away my power, just because you're blind to what true power can bring you?"
Peter slightly raised his chin. "You don't know me."
"Don't I?" As he gave his villain monologue, May went and grabbed the remaining serums. Although they weren't done, they could spare us time in these critical moments. "I saw how she trapped you, fighting her... holy moral mission. We don't need you to save us. We don't need to be fixed! ...These are not curses. They're gifts."
All of our guests listened carefully to the spoken venom. Sure, they could have all the power in their hands, but at what cost? From my understanding, they've lost everything due to their 'gifts'. And what people would do just to get a second chance like this one? They'd do more than the impossible.
However, one of them didn't falter under the spell: the only person we've managed to help so far. "Norman, no," Otto pleaded. He was heartbroken by the state of his friend.
"Quiet, lapdog," he spat.
"You don't know what you're talking about," Peter assured, but words are useless at this point. Whatever sickness Norman gained in his universe, it had already contaminated his head.
"I watched you from deep behind Norman's cowardly eyes. Struggling, to have everything you want, while the world tries to make you choose."
The droplets of sweat were threatening to fall. My breath was caught in my throat. Either one of two things was about to happen: we were gonna continue as if nothing happened and keep helping the poor unfortunate souls... or a battle emerging from them was about to ensue. From the looks of it, it's not gonna be the first one.
"Gods don't have to choose... we take."
I exhaled.
"May... run."
In a split second, the room went ablaze. Max rapidly ripped his device from his chest, mere moments away from what some could consider salvation. The whole building's electrical system started flickering. Flint, in his sand form, escaped through a broken window, probably preferring to hide than fight against us. And (Y/n) just straight up lunged at me.
"What's your fucking problem, dude?!" I yelled. Her body weight was pressing down into my ribcage, her calloused hands moving fast enough that my lack of focus blinked my weapon into nothing.
I couldn't move because her knees were compressing both my arms. "You should join us. Though it'll make less fun killing you. Hell, I might even consider sparing your pathetic ass." Her gaze had changed as well; her pupils were darker and the wings sprouted out of her back.
"Yeah, like I'd... agree to do t-that." Gasping for air, I gained enough momentum to slam my knee against her leg. That caught her off guard, so I managed to slither away from her reach. I ran into the hallway. However, she corned me before I reached the stairs.
"Why are you hitting yourself?" she giggled as she punched me in the face. "Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you—"
"Oh, grow up, why won't you?" I created light balls on my palms, bright and hot enough for her instinct to tell her to move. "And get better punchlines!"
We threw and dodged each other our weapons. It was like an intricate choreography we had obviously not planned. As an element of surprise, she pushed me through the wall and outside the building.
My peripheral view was blurry as we fell several stories, but she used her wings to stop feet before impact. Then she dropped me with all her might. I guess she wanted the satisfaction of being the pure responsible for breaking my spine.
She pulled out one of her blasters from her utility belt. I created two. "We don't have to do this! Nobody has to die tonight," I pleaded in between coughs.
"Don't worry, sweetie! You'll be dead before you can see that happen."
"See? That's more threatening than the 'hitting yourself' line. More cliché, yes, but more threatening."
Lawrence screamed in such a loud pitch that my ears rang. And, unfortunately, I could feel the helicopter and police lights waiting to reveal whatever bit of lies they had gathered from the wrong timing of their arrival.
I dusted off the debris weighing down my shoulders.
My back burned like hellfire. It took an effort to breathe, but the adrenaline of wanting to defeat Killer Bee helped me to jump from behind her and snap her arm in half. Instead of crying or whimpering as any normal person would, she cackled.
"You're halfway there, Miss Killer, and I can't wait to meet you on the top." I dropped her, and she continued laughing.
"Fuck," I whispered, unaware if it was due to the pain coursing through my veins or the thorns of her words. I covered my mask with my hands, only to gag at the blood that now stained them. From who of the two it was I did not know.
On my right, I managed to detect the glider rushing inside. It was all in slow motion as I ran towards the imminent explosion, yelling at Peter and May to run. The Green Goblin escaped freely as he left his path of destruction.
Killer Bee did half a spin so she could lie down. "You're lucky our Petey needs your help. Very lucky girl."
The remaining chunks of the ceiling that had survived were now either in flames or dust on the floor. I found Peter and May moments later... but May was not standing up. "...Peter?"
"She's not moving, (Y/n)!" he cried.
I kneeled beside her, heartbroken to see her in this condition. It's supposed to be us who get hurt, not her. "Oh, May."
Peter placed his delicate hand over her cheek. "Will you look at me, May? Please? May? May? What are you doing, May? Please, will you just wake up and talk to me, please?"
... No response.
A SWAT team rushed out of their trucks with their pistols ready to aim at us. Happy arrived too. The look on our faces told him everything he needed to know. They commanded him to get out of the car and they handcuffed him. "Run!"
"Alright Parker and Killer Bee, come with your hands up!" the SWAT leader bellowed. But we couldn't care less about them. May was the thing we were focused on.
It took one shot for me to activate the light shield in front of the three of us. Luckily, the bullets didn't manage to hit. The knot forming in my throat made my following sentence barely audible. "Peter, babe, I love you, but we have to go! Please!"
The shield would not hold on for longer, and as much as I wanted Peter to let him have his last moments with May, we had no energy left to be next.
Shaking and sobbing, he kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
We fled in a river of tears.
This wasn't how it was supposed to go.