Back to GatefoldIssue #24 by Mike Exner III
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"LAUGHTER IN THE DARK - Part One - Trail of Petals"
Previously in the Amazing Spider-Man: Spider-Man and the Black Cat battled the Hobgoblin and the Enforcers in a pitched battle. The Enforcers were captured but the Hobgoblin escaped, promising vengeance. Peter and Felicia shared an intimate moment that Peter cut short due to his confused feelings. After finding out that Detective Russ Anderson had resigned from the NYPD to save Spider-Man, Robbie informed Peter that Jonah had been shot and desperately needed to talk to him. Meanwhile: the mysterious Scrier manipulated from the background with the weakened Sandman as his victim.
Eugene Patilio walked slowly along the sidewalk towards the Stacy household. He'd managed to find the address simply enough just by looking in the phone book. Eugene paused at the concrete walkway that led to the front porch of Jill Stacy's house and glanced behind him. His father peered out of the windshield of their family car and looked away hastily when he noticed Eugene observing him. Vincent Patilio was a good man and a great father. Eugene had asked his father to bring him to Jill Stacy's house with virtually no questions asked and his father hadn't hesitated a second.*
[* Last Issue - Dino]
Eugene turned back to the house and began plodding slowly up the walkway. The house was painted white with a roof covered in bluish-gray shingles. There were shutters on most of the windows and they were decorated in the same color as the roof. The lawn was kept fairly well and a few shrubs dotted its expanse here and there with brightly colored flowers surrounding them.
As Eugene looked at the landscape he couldn't help but think that this house seemed like a place where nothing bad could happen. It seemed to be what any middle-class American sitcom family without a problem in the world would love to call home. But that obviously wasn't the case with this house. Eugene thought back to the words Jill had used when she'd visited him in the hospital…
Things have been happening lately that are really taking a toll on me. Family things.
Those weren't the words of a girl who was happy with the way her life was going. No amount of picket fences or clever flower arrangements had a hope of fixing a broken home. Eugene remembered back to the time when his mother died. His father had been crushed by her death and it was one of the reasons he'd finally decided to don the costume of Leap Frog. Eugene hated to think back on those times. He had been neglected more often than he wanted to admit while his father was out attempting to loot the city in his criminal guise.
Eventually Spider-Man had beaten some sense into Vincent Patilio. Eventually Frogman had been born because of the heroic intervention of one web-slinging angel. Eugene knew damn well that problems weren't fixed by ignoring them or by keeping yourself too busy to notice. Problems were solved when someone stepped up and struggled to make a difference. Spider-Man had struggled to make a difference with the Patilios. The least Eugene could do was try and make a difference for the Stacys.
Eugene stepped onto the porch of the Stacy household and knocked firmly on the door. There were three small windows carved into the door and Eugene peered into them as he waited on the stoop. The house was darkened within and it didn't appear like anyone was home. Eugene frowned and scratched at the back of his neck. Jill had talked about family problems but that didn't necessarily mean that she was staying at home to deal with them.
"Some hero you are, Gene. I guess I should have called first," muttered Eugene to himself as he turned away from the front door of the house and clomped back down the steps of the front porch. Eugene began to walk back towards his father's car when suddenly the click of a latch sounded behind him. Eugene turned around just in time to see Jill Stacy burst from the front door of her house and stumble down the steps toward him.
Eugene took a few hesitant steps toward Jill before she tumbled into his arms. Jill Stacy clung feverishly to Eugene and he squeezed her back. Eugene felt the moisture on her face seeping into his shirt and knew she had been crying. The hitching sounds from deep within her chest confirmed it.
Jill pulled away from Eugene and struggled to smile. "I'm glad you're here, Eugene. And I'm so sorry about what I said at the hospital."
Eugene shook his head and pointed in the direction of his father who was still sitting behind the wheel of their Volvo. "I asked my father to drive me over here because I thought you might need someone to talk to, Jill. I'm not worried about what happened at the hospital. I was just thinking that you might need to get away for a while. My father wanted me to ask you if you'd come over to our place for dinner."
Jill waved in the direction of Eugene's father and Vincent Patilio frantically waved back. "Your father seems really nice, Eugene."
"He is really nice," replied Eugene, but said nothing more.
Jill looked back towards Eugene and this time it wasn't a struggle to maintain the smile on her face. "I guess I do need a change of scenery. And it'll give us a chance to talk. I think I really do need a friend right now."
Eugene matched Jill's smile with his own and took her hand in his. "Well, then what are we waiting for? My stepmother Rosa makes a mean Chicken Parmesan… you'll love it."
Together Eugene Patilio and Jill Stacy walked to the car of Vincent Patilio and clambered inside. Vincent Patilio put the car into gear and drove down the street toward the highway. None of the passengers inside glanced above to observe the figure hovering in the air over them. Rain began to fall in thick sheets and pattered on the flaming head of the sinister being. The rain sizzled to nothing as the mysterious figure tracked the car with its flaming eyes.
When Peter Parker and Robbie Robertson arrived at the Emergency Ward of the hospital, almost the entire Daily Bugle staff was crammed inside questioning each and every member of the hospital staff on the status of J. Jonah Jameson.
The hospital staff and the Bugle staff were not getting along.
"Mr. Robertson?" said a voice off to the left of Peter and he turned towards it. Peter was surprised to see the exact same doctor that had taken Eugene into the ER days ago approaching them now.* The doctor was gaunt, bald and had a thick patch of stubble decorating his jaw line. There were pouches of flesh sagging beneath his keen eyes the color of bruises. Peter doubted the man had gotten much sleep since Spider-Man had brought Eugene to him a few nights before… if he ever slept at all.
[* In issue #20 - Dino]
Robbie had turned with Peter and seemed relieved to see the physician approaching him. The look on the face of the doctor was hardly as kind. "Mr. Robertson. I know that what happened to Mr. Jameson must be a trying experience for your entire staff. But I must ask that you exercise some sort of authority over them. They're seriously disrupting my ER and if that does not change… I'll be forced to summon the police."
Robbie blinked as the physician turned his attentions away from the editor and towards Peter. The intense gaze in the eyes of the doctor was almost enough to make Peter run and hide. He dimly recalled feeling somewhat similar when he'd been holding Eugene's battered body in his arms.
"Are you Parker?" the doctor asked simply and Peter nodded dumbly. He had no idea why the physician would know his name or be asking for him. In the rush from the Bugle to the hospital, Robbie had explained the situation with Detective Russ Anderson turning in his resignation and nothing else. The topic of Jonah had largely been forgotten until Robbie pulled into the parking lot of the medical facility. Now Robbie's words back at the Daily Bugle came to Peter clearly. Jonah had asked to see Peter for some reason.
The doctor grabbed Peter by the elbow and began pulling him away from the emergency lobby of the ER. Peter looked behind him as Robbie began barking at the members of the Daily Bugle staff who wouldn't stop harassing the residents and nurses busily moving throughout the facility.
The physician continued to pull Peter by his elbow and kicked open a large pair of double doors with the words Critical Patients stamped into the metal. "Jameson has demanded to see you, Parker. Normally I wouldn't give a damn. However, the man is in very critical condition and is insisting that he speak with you before any action be taken to put him under the knife. I've stabilized him for now but he will die if we don't operate. I plan to save this man's life, Parker. So be quick and satisfy the old bastard so I can do my job."
The physician abruptly let go of Peter's arm and continued to walk away from Peter. Peter took a halting step after the doctor and then noticed where he was. Another door sat to his right and through the window Peter could see J. Jonah Jameson splayed on a medical gurney with nurses hovering all around him. One of the nurses motioned for Peter to enter and he did. Almost immediately the nurses in the room vacated the area and Peter and Jameson were alone.
Jameson pulled the air hose from lips that had gone the same ashen color as the pallor of his skin. Jonah's eyes locked onto Peter and he motioned for Peter to take a seat with a hand covered in wires. Peter looked at the blood and the large amount of gauze covering the wound in Jonah's chest. The red taint of blood was slowly seeping through the cloth and spreading inexorably towards the edges. Peter moved to the side of Jonah as quickly as he could. The physician had not been making the situation anymore serious than it was. J. Jonah Jameson looked like a man at the doorstep of Death.
When Peter sat down Jonah closed his eyes and for a long moment they did not open. Peter felt fear clutch his heart as his mind pictured a funeral procession of Daily Bugle staff and the members of Jonah's family. Peter had been buried once before his time had come. He did not want the same for Jonah.
Peter almost got up to call the nurse when the eyes of J. Jonah Jameson fluttered back to life. When the man spoke it was with a weak whisper that Peter could barely hear. But he heard every word.
When Jonah had finished speaking he pointed down to the crumpled mass of his clothes and Peter nodded. J. Jonah Jameson smiled then and Peter fought to bring a smile to his own lips as well. It was at this moment that Peter realized what kind of a man J. Jonah Jameson truly was. A strong man… a noble man… a man that Peter finally realized wasn't wrong or evil just because of his dislike for Spider-Man. Peter resisted the tears that threatened to leak from his eyes as Jonah smiled weakly at him.
Peter reached down and rooted through the tattered clothes of J. Jonah Jameson and pulled out a crinkled file with the words - Parker, Peter - scrawled in red ink on the cover. This time the tears did slip from Peter's eyes as he rose to show Jonah that everything the man had gone through had not been in vain.
Jonah was dead.
Peter looked into the lifeless eyes of J. Jonah Jameson and a choking cry of pure dismay rose from his throat. The emergency area where Jonah was being kept was suddenly filled with hospital personnel. Peter struggled to remain in the room as nurses pushed him towards the exit. He strained his eyes to look upon the face of J. Jonah Jameson as the doctors huddled over his lifeless body.
Eventually Peter made his way back to the staff of the Daily Bugle. The file had long ago been tucked into his pants and was now invisible. Peter felt grief rush up and wash over him like the surf as his co-workers pleaded with him to tell them what had happened. As the sorrow washed over Peter a new feeling came to replace it. The staff of the Daily Bugle gradually quieted as Peter narrowed his eyes and his face curled into a ball of rage.
Peter Parker pushed through the people standing in front of him and began to run. He flung open the doors of the Emergency Ward and dashed off into the pelting rain that had just started to fall. Peter Parker ran long and far and the rain washed away his rage and replaced it once again with grief. When he was sure there were no eyes to see him he jumped to the summit of a nearby roof. Soon his clothes were shed and in their place was the red, black and blue form of Spider-Man. Spider-Man gripped the file in his quivering hands and began to cry.
Felicia Hardy stepped out of the scalding shower and draped a velvety towel around her body. The stifling water had relaxed her body well enough after her encounter with the Enforcers… but she still felt tense. The reaction Peter had given her after their kiss wasn't exactly what she had intended.*
[* As seen in issue #23 - Dino]
Peter had left her standing alone on the rooftop of the Daily Bugle and at first Felicia had felt fine about what had occurred. It had even seemed like old times when the Spider and the Black Cat had roamed New York City together beating on anyone who dared oppose them. Fighting Hobgoblin and the Enforcers had been just like that. Felicia craved those past days again. She wanted things to go back to the way they had been before when it was just her and Peter against the world.
At first she had been obsessed with the danger and the intrigue that being a super-hero had provided. But she had grown up a lot in the past few years. She still had the desire to play super-hero and she still had the desire to be with Peter. But her desire to be a super-hero wasn't fueled by a lust for danger. It was fueled by a sense of right and wrong. And her desire for Peter wasn't fueled by the power he had as the Spider. It was fueled by the simple fact that - in a way - she had loved him all this time. She still loved him. She didn't want to see him get hurt.
But she could tell Peter was hurting when she looked into his eyes on the roof of the Daily Bugle. His wife Mary Jane was dead. A bomb had killed a dozen innocent people and the city blamed Spider-Man for it. Felicia wouldn't have been surprised to find that there were even more things bothering Peter on top of that. If only she could help somehow. If only she could find some way to get him to let her in.
The kiss had been a mistake... a stupid mistake. In the past all she had to do was kiss Peter to take all of his troubles away. Things weren't that way anymore. All the kiss did was make Peter suspicious of her. But Felicia Hardy was determined not to let one kiss ruin all of her chances with Peter. She would find him again and talk to him. Eventually Peter would grow to trust her again. Eventually they could be good friends again. Eventually Peter would realize that Felicia Hardy was the one…
Someone was in the room with her.
Felicia froze as the shadows in her living room altered and a white face appeared as if from nowhere. Her muscles immediately tensed as Felicia slipped into a fighting stance.
"Who are you? What are you doing in my apartment?" said Felicia but the man with the pale face said nothing. "If you're here to rob the place. I guarantee you're in for a rude awakening!"
Felicia Hardy lunged at the man cloaked all in black and collided roughly with him. The man in black crashed to the ground and Felicia grabbed him by his dark cloak. She expected to see fear or pain in his eyes. What she did not expect to see were the absence of eyes altogether.
"My god," said Felicia as she sensed a shifting of movement from behind her. She whirled in time to see a flutter of red cloth and a demonic white face with insanity gleaming in its eyes. A thin ebony object shaped like a bat came crashing down on the head of Felicia Hardy and white starbursts lit behind her vision. The starbursts faded to red and then gray and then everything went black. But before Felicia Hardy faded into unconsciousness she registered the lingering scent of roses.
Dear Peter,
If you are reading this then it is almost certain that the esteemed publisher of the Daily Bugle is finally dead. I expect that you understand why it was necessary that Jameson be killed. But if you are still in the dark then let us just say that Jonah's friendship with Norman was always a matter of treading on thin ice.
But you aren't reading this because you want to hear about Jonah. No, you're reading it because of the lovely pictures contained within this file. Isn't she beautiful, Peter? You never imagined that she was still alive, did you? Norman and I have been keeping her for quite some time now.
But now I am the only one left to care for her. I considered killing her the same way you killed my beloved Norman. But that would hardly be fair. How can she be blamed for your mistakes? I would much rather see you dead for your crimes against my family. I think that is the best thing I could hope for.
But enough of this foolish letter that really means nothing in the overall scheme of things. Inside this file you will find specific directions, Peter. If you want her back I expect you to follow them to the letter. Think of it as a trail of petals for you to follow to your beloved. I'll see you at the end of the road.
-The Rose Goblin
Spider-Man crumpled the solitary sheet of paper in his hands and stared out across the rain-soaked street at the entrance to Oscorp Industries. The specific directions had simply told him to come to this place and step inside. He had gone over every inch of information within the file that Jonah had delivered to him but nothing else had really even mattered. The letter had been sealed within a plastic envelope that had never been penetrated. But the pictures and a few documents pertaining to them had never been sealed and Jonah had viewed them just before he had been shot.
Peter thought back to the whispered words of J. Jonah Jameson. Jameson had spoken of the first time he had been contacted. Jameson had spoken of the small pieces of information he received over time that hinted that someone Peter loved deeply was still alive. Jameson had spoken of finally meeting the mysterious source that had fed him all of his knowledge. Jameson had spoken of the pictures contained within the file that he saw with his own eyes. Jameson had spoken of how he felt when the bullet had pierced his chest as his source betrayed him. Jameson had spoken of Scrier.
Peter had listened intently to every word uttered from Jonah's lips. He knew of the pale-faced cabal of Scriers that Jonah had spoken of. The organization had been loyal to Norman Osborn and had collapsed when Norman died. But now it appeared as if they were back and that the Rose Goblin had assumed leadership over them.
Peter didn't care. All that truly mattered was the pictures contained within the file and the knowledge that the Rose Goblin was the one responsible for everything. Spider-Man flexed his taut muscles and in a single leap covered the distance of the street. He placed a hand on the door and pushed. The locks on the door cracked beneath the pressure and the door swung open. Spider-Man stepped inside.
Lights instantly illuminated the interior of the complex and Spider-Man was not surprised to see a trail of rose petals leading off into the distance. Spider-Man began to follow the petals without hesitation. The dying flowers layered the hallway in front of Spider-Man but didn't go far. Spider-Man stopped at the end of the trail of petals and peered at the closed door in front of him. Every instinct that Spider-Man had ever trusted screamed at him that he was walking into a trap.
Spider-Man gripped the doorknob of the room and turned it. The door swung open and darkness rose to greet him. Spider-Man stepped into the room and the door swung shut behind him. Again lights instantaneously lit the interior of the room. But this time the light was the color of blood.
Spider-Man's spider-sense activated from the deep recesses of his brain just as the room exploded all around him. Spider-Man was hurled into the air and struggled to maintain his sense of balance. As abruptly as it had started, the shaking stopped and Spider-Man landed roughly on the floor. Heavy breathing replaced the sifting sounds that had filled the void before and Spider-Man looked up… into the face of the Sandman.
There was no hesitation in Spider-Man as he attacked. He slammed a fist into the face of Sandman and the face was dashed into a mass of sand that pelted the wall behind the combatants. Spider-Man struck again at the chest of Sandman and it too was pummeled into nothing but strains of sand that pattered the ground.
Spider-Man jumped backwards and Sandman reformed himself. Spider-Man clenched his fists tightly and leapt at Sandman again but his progress was halted as a wall of hardened sand erupted from the floor in front of him. Spider-Man crashed into the wall of sand and hit the floor. His head throbbed from the inside out as Sandman encapsulated Spider-Man in a mass of sand that the villain rose above his own head. Spider-Man struggled to break free but Sandman held him in a grip that was more like steel than sand.
"Stop, Spider-Man," said a voice that sounded more tortured than it did wicked and Spider-Man did stop. He looked down into the face of Sandman as was surprised to see the tears that slipped from the grainy face and were absorbed as they fell. "I was supposed to kill you if I could, Spider-Man. The dark-man told me that if I did… the devil-lady would never bother me again."
Spider-Man listened to Sandman as his face rippled wildly with the sand fluctuating beneath it. "I told the dark-man that I would do it. But I'm not that person anymore. You helped me realize that, Spider-Man. So I'm going to let you go. There's a letter sitting beneath me. I can only assume that it's for you. I guess you better read it."
Spider-Man dropped to the ground as Sandman slipped into a great pile of sand. The pile sifted toward the closed door and filtered beneath it. Spider-Man watched Sandman leave and then turned to the letter. He opened it hastily and read.
Dear Peter,
If you are still alive to read this then you have beaten the Sandman and have come quite a way down the trail. I applaud your efforts, Spider-Man. But it is certainly not over yet. Go home, Peter Parker. Find the next piece to the puzzle. And remember… home is where the heart is.
-The Rose Goblin
"How long is it supposed to take, Robbie?" said Betty Brant as she paced back and forth on the worn tile floor of the hospital waiting room. Robbie Robertson looked up at Betty and couldn't find the words to answer her. He had convinced most of the staff to return to the Daily Bugle… but a few had chosen to remain.
Betty Brant, Ben Urich and Glory Grant shared the space of the waiting room with Robbie. Marla Jameson had arrived not long ago and Robbie had hastily explained that the physician in charge, Dr. Benton, had taken Jonah up to the operating room nearly half an hour ago. Now the time that Jonah and the doctor had been away was approaching a full hour and Robbie was growing more and more concerned with each passing second.
"Robbie?" said Betty again and met Robbie's eyes with her own. Robbie shook his head to convey the fact that he had no clue whatsoever and Betty Brant continued to pace the floor. Glory Grant stood with Ben in the corner of the waiting room. They both hunched over Styrofoam cups filled with black coffee. Robbie couldn't be sure, but he doubted that either one of them had taken even one sip.
Marla sat next to Robbie and on occasion would pluck her cellular phone from her purse and dial. Robbie watched intently on these occasions as Marla pressed the earpiece to her head firmly and her look gradually faded from one of hope to one of sorrow. Robbie had contacted Marla easily enough. But John Jameson it seemed was nowhere to be found. Jonah's son had long had problems with his father. But now the man was in a terrible fight for his life and needed all the support he could gather.
Robbie looked up to the clock planted into the plain hospital wall. An hour had now fully passed. J. Jonah Jameson was fighting for his life and there was nothing Robbie Robertson could do but wait. Robbie placed his hand on the curled fist of Marla Jameson and the woman tensed. Marla smiled weakly up at Robbie and her look became one of gratitude as her body gradually relaxed. Robbie found his own smile and patted her hand gently with his fingers.
There was nothing that Robbie Robertson could do for Jonah. But the others that loved Jonah were feeling the same way that he was. Sharing their pain was the only way to deal with the reality of the moment. It was the only way to remain sane.
Spider-Man hesitated for only the briefest of seconds before bursting through the door of his Aunt May's home in Forest Hills. The thought of frightening his Aunt May to death gave him pause. But the thought of finding her dead inside his childhood home cast every other thought from his mind with the power of a whirlwind.
Spider-Man leapt down the hallway leading from the front door. Rose petals stirred and flitted into the air as Spider-Man hurtled past them. Spider-Man followed the trail that he knew he would find into the den and stopped in his tracks.
His Aunt May was tied to a chair that had been taken from the kitchen table. Her motionless body was slumped in the chair with her chin resting on her chest. Peter rushed to his Aunt May and shook her lightly. He breathed a shuddering sigh of relief as the old woman began to stir. For a moment he had feared she was already gone.
A letter sat underneath one of the legs of the chair and Spider-Man stooped to pick it up. He unconsciously snapped the lengths of rope binding his Aunt May with one hand as he scanned the letter with eyes that had long grown weary of reading the withering scrawl of the Rose Goblin.
Dearest Peter,
GOTCHA! Come to your apartment now, Spider-Man. It is time to end the games. Come find the last trail of petals that will lead you to your death. I promise that if you survive this final encounter… all will be revealed to you.
-The Rose Goblin
Spider-Man lowered the letter to his side and crumpled it in his trembling fist. A hand closed over his shoulder and Spider-Man nearly reacted by lashing out with his fists. Then he remembered where he was and shame closed over his heart.
Aunt May turned Spider-Man toward her and narrowed her eyes. "I'm not sure what it is that you're doing here. I certainly don't know what foul business has brought you or that devil of a woman into my house. All I ask is that you leave this place and never come back. Don't ever come back. My family has suffered enough."
Spider-Man looked into the strong eyes of his Aunt May for a long moment and then nodded. Without a word he slipped out of the living room and jumped out into the soaking deluge from whence he had come. Aunt May followed Spider-Man to her door and watched as he swung away through the downpour. Then she closed her door and calmly swept up the rose petals that littered her floor… with tears in her eyes.
"Marla Jameson?" said a voice from across the room. Marla lifted her eyes from the floor she had been staring at intently for all this time. A man dressed in the light green operating attire Marla had so often seen on the television show, ER, approached her cautiously. The man was terribly thin with a head devoid of hair and thick stubble lining his jaw. His face seemed bruised from lack of sleep and despite her concerns over the health of her husband, Marla Jameson felt a surge of pity for this poor man.
Robbie Robertson also saw the doctor approach and he rose from his chair immediately and stared expectantly at the physician as he crossed the floor towards Marla. Ben, Glory and Betty had left for the night but had promised to come back tomorrow. Glory had even suggested that she drop by John Jameson's apartment to see if he was home. Marla had been extremely grateful for the suggestion and Robbie had found it amazing that the woman could show such gratitude and strength in the face of such tragedy. She was a remarkable woman.
The physician looked through Robbie Robertson as if he weren't even there and moved to stand directly in front of Marla Jameson. Robbie was slightly hurt and annoyed by the action but he understood the reasoning behind it. He was not family. The only family J. Jonah Jameson had was sitting in an uncomfortable hospital waiting room chair with tears barely concealed behind her strong eyes.
Marla stood up and folded her arms in front of her. "Is my husband going to live, doctor?"
The physician rubbed two strong fingers against his nose. Robbie watched as he did it and marveled at how clean his hands were. Moments before they could have been stained with blood. But now they were clean enough to hold a newborn child.
"Your husband is going to survive, Mrs. Jameson," said the physician and as the words passed from his lips, Robbie watched the strength slip from Marla Jameson as if she were a generator that had finally ran out of energy. Her knees buckled and she slumped down into the chair she had gotten up from moments before. Tears spilled from her eyes freely now and her chin dropped to her chest.
"Mrs. Jameson…?" said the doctor but then paused as Marla looked up at him. Marla Jameson was still crying but her face had changed from one of thinly veiled despair into a mask of unbridled joy. Robbie moved to her side and clutched her hand in his.
Marla looked at Robbie as if seeing him for the first time. "Robbie. Jonah is going to be ok."
"I know, Marla. I heard," said Robbie and felt tears track down his face as well. Robbie looked to the physician who had clasped his hands in front of him and was smiling weakly down at the two in front of him.
"I'll leave you two alone for now. When it is possible for you to see your husband I'll let you know, Mrs. Jameson," said the doctor and then turned and walked away. Robbie followed him with his eyes until he left the waiting room and then Marla clutched him close to her and began to cry anew.
Spider-Man crept along the brick-lined wall of his apartment building slowly. The window to the apartment that Peter shared with Randy was just below him. Spider-Man placed his gloved hands on the cold black metal of the fire escape and swung his body onto it. He trusted his spider-sense to warn him of any immediate attack from inside or outside the apartment.
Spider-Man leaned towards the darkened glass of his apartment and peered inside. After Randy had been carried away in the ambulance, Peter had returned to straighten the apartment up. It didn't appear as if anything had been disturbed since that time at all. Spider-Man could see nothing amidst the shadows that engulfed the entirety of his dwelling.
Spider-Man placed his fingers on the window and pressed upwards with his hands. The window rose soundlessly and a whisper of heated air slipped out and struck Spider-Man in the face. Spider-Man raised the window the rest of the way and slipped inside. His eyes were becoming adjusted to the dark and as Spider-Man came within the apartment he noticed the small slip of paper sitting on the ground.
Spider-Man moved cautiously towards the paper and stooped to pick it up. Then a grunt of sound issued forth from the darkness and Spider-Man's spider-sense went off. Spider-Man whirled around and was barely able to register the approaching shadow as it rammed into his chest. Spider-Man sailed through the air and crashed heavily into the wall of the apartment.
The moving shadow was on him almost instantly and Spider-Man felt and then saw fists of terrifying white come crashing down on his head. Spider-Man winced as the first blows struck him and then planted his feet. He pushed away from the ground towards the moving shadow and the mysterious assailant flew backwards with him. Spider-Man saw a frightening pallid face momentarily revealed in the shadows and struck at it. His fist struck the pale-faced man as they crashed to the ground and the attacker went limp.
Spider-Man rose to his feet as the shadow-man began to stir. Spider-Man knelt down and gripped the dark-man by his cloak and lifted him off of the ground. There was no need to speak the name of his attacker. He had seen plenty of them before… Scrier.
Scrier came alive in Spider-Man's grip and clawed at his face. Spider-Man reared back a fist and struck the man in the face. Scrier slumped to the ground again and clutched at his jaw. The dark-man looked up at Spider-Man with eyes that were not there and Spider-Man reached down and took hold of his mask.
Scrier struggled to pull away and cried out as Spider-Man pulled the mask from his face. Spider-Man yanked it free and Scrier screamed in agony.
"Who are you?" said Spider-Man as he wrapped his clenched fingers around Scrier's cloak once more. He hefted the dark-man to his feet and turned Scrier towards him. Then Spider-Man saw the face beneath the mask of Scrier and dropped the villain to his knees once more. He took a halting step away from the man who was now openly weeping and battering his fists on the ground.
John Jameson met the eyes of Spider-Man with his own. The eyes of the man were ringed with red and soaked in tears. The eyes of the man were insane.
"She made me do it, Spider-Man," said John Jameson and Spider-Man clenched his fists. "She made me into this… thing.
John Jameson's face cracked into one of complete misery and grief. "Oh…God! Please help me. I killed my own father. I killed him!"
Spider-Man watched silently as the man before him broke down and slipped deeper into his own despair. He watched the man for a few long moments and then flicked the buttons on his palms. Twin bursts of web-fluid erupted from the mechanical spinnerets on Spider-Man's wrists. John Jameson was soon webbed firmly to the floor.
Spider-Man searched the ground with his eyes and then stooped to pick up the final scrap of paper. He would call the police for John Jameson. They would find him exactly as he was now. Spider-Man tried to find some semblance of pity in his heart for the man and could find none. He unfolded the slip of paper and read.
Dear Peter,
The last stretch of trail lies before you. The time has finally come for the Goblin and the Spider to end this little game we have all played so well over the years. I feel a sense of destiny and closure as I write this letter. I wonder… do you feel it too? I think perhaps you do. Come to me, Peter. Come to the place you fear above all others. Come to the place where Spider-Man was truly born. I will be waiting for you there… and so will she.
-The Rose Goblin
Next Issue: Laughter in the Dark ends with the final confrontation between the Rose Goblin and Spider-Man
Eugene Patilio walked slowly along the sidewalk towards the Stacy household. He'd managed to find the address simply enough just by looking in the phone book. Eugene paused at the concrete walkway that led to the front porch of Jill Stacy's house and glanced behind him. His father peered out of the windshield of their family car and looked away hastily when he noticed Eugene observing him. Vincent Patilio was a good man and a great father. Eugene had asked his father to bring him to Jill Stacy's house with virtually no questions asked and his father hadn't hesitated a second.*
[* Last Issue - Dino]
Eugene turned back to the house and began plodding slowly up the walkway. The house was painted white with a roof covered in bluish-gray shingles. There were shutters on most of the windows and they were decorated in the same color as the roof. The lawn was kept fairly well and a few shrubs dotted its expanse here and there with brightly colored flowers surrounding them.
As Eugene looked at the landscape he couldn't help but think that this house seemed like a place where nothing bad could happen. It seemed to be what any middle-class American sitcom family without a problem in the world would love to call home. But that obviously wasn't the case with this house. Eugene thought back to the words Jill had used when she'd visited him in the hospital…
Things have been happening lately that are really taking a toll on me. Family things.
Those weren't the words of a girl who was happy with the way her life was going. No amount of picket fences or clever flower arrangements had a hope of fixing a broken home. Eugene remembered back to the time when his mother died. His father had been crushed by her death and it was one of the reasons he'd finally decided to don the costume of Leap Frog. Eugene hated to think back on those times. He had been neglected more often than he wanted to admit while his father was out attempting to loot the city in his criminal guise.
Eventually Spider-Man had beaten some sense into Vincent Patilio. Eventually Frogman had been born because of the heroic intervention of one web-slinging angel. Eugene knew damn well that problems weren't fixed by ignoring them or by keeping yourself too busy to notice. Problems were solved when someone stepped up and struggled to make a difference. Spider-Man had struggled to make a difference with the Patilios. The least Eugene could do was try and make a difference for the Stacys.
Eugene stepped onto the porch of the Stacy household and knocked firmly on the door. There were three small windows carved into the door and Eugene peered into them as he waited on the stoop. The house was darkened within and it didn't appear like anyone was home. Eugene frowned and scratched at the back of his neck. Jill had talked about family problems but that didn't necessarily mean that she was staying at home to deal with them.
"Some hero you are, Gene. I guess I should have called first," muttered Eugene to himself as he turned away from the front door of the house and clomped back down the steps of the front porch. Eugene began to walk back towards his father's car when suddenly the click of a latch sounded behind him. Eugene turned around just in time to see Jill Stacy burst from the front door of her house and stumble down the steps toward him.
Eugene took a few hesitant steps toward Jill before she tumbled into his arms. Jill Stacy clung feverishly to Eugene and he squeezed her back. Eugene felt the moisture on her face seeping into his shirt and knew she had been crying. The hitching sounds from deep within her chest confirmed it.
Jill pulled away from Eugene and struggled to smile. "I'm glad you're here, Eugene. And I'm so sorry about what I said at the hospital."
Eugene shook his head and pointed in the direction of his father who was still sitting behind the wheel of their Volvo. "I asked my father to drive me over here because I thought you might need someone to talk to, Jill. I'm not worried about what happened at the hospital. I was just thinking that you might need to get away for a while. My father wanted me to ask you if you'd come over to our place for dinner."
Jill waved in the direction of Eugene's father and Vincent Patilio frantically waved back. "Your father seems really nice, Eugene."
"He is really nice," replied Eugene, but said nothing more.
Jill looked back towards Eugene and this time it wasn't a struggle to maintain the smile on her face. "I guess I do need a change of scenery. And it'll give us a chance to talk. I think I really do need a friend right now."
Eugene matched Jill's smile with his own and took her hand in his. "Well, then what are we waiting for? My stepmother Rosa makes a mean Chicken Parmesan… you'll love it."
Together Eugene Patilio and Jill Stacy walked to the car of Vincent Patilio and clambered inside. Vincent Patilio put the car into gear and drove down the street toward the highway. None of the passengers inside glanced above to observe the figure hovering in the air over them. Rain began to fall in thick sheets and pattered on the flaming head of the sinister being. The rain sizzled to nothing as the mysterious figure tracked the car with its flaming eyes.
When Peter Parker and Robbie Robertson arrived at the Emergency Ward of the hospital, almost the entire Daily Bugle staff was crammed inside questioning each and every member of the hospital staff on the status of J. Jonah Jameson.
The hospital staff and the Bugle staff were not getting along.
"Mr. Robertson?" said a voice off to the left of Peter and he turned towards it. Peter was surprised to see the exact same doctor that had taken Eugene into the ER days ago approaching them now.* The doctor was gaunt, bald and had a thick patch of stubble decorating his jaw line. There were pouches of flesh sagging beneath his keen eyes the color of bruises. Peter doubted the man had gotten much sleep since Spider-Man had brought Eugene to him a few nights before… if he ever slept at all.
[* In issue #20 - Dino]
Robbie had turned with Peter and seemed relieved to see the physician approaching him. The look on the face of the doctor was hardly as kind. "Mr. Robertson. I know that what happened to Mr. Jameson must be a trying experience for your entire staff. But I must ask that you exercise some sort of authority over them. They're seriously disrupting my ER and if that does not change… I'll be forced to summon the police."
Robbie blinked as the physician turned his attentions away from the editor and towards Peter. The intense gaze in the eyes of the doctor was almost enough to make Peter run and hide. He dimly recalled feeling somewhat similar when he'd been holding Eugene's battered body in his arms.
"Are you Parker?" the doctor asked simply and Peter nodded dumbly. He had no idea why the physician would know his name or be asking for him. In the rush from the Bugle to the hospital, Robbie had explained the situation with Detective Russ Anderson turning in his resignation and nothing else. The topic of Jonah had largely been forgotten until Robbie pulled into the parking lot of the medical facility. Now Robbie's words back at the Daily Bugle came to Peter clearly. Jonah had asked to see Peter for some reason.
The doctor grabbed Peter by the elbow and began pulling him away from the emergency lobby of the ER. Peter looked behind him as Robbie began barking at the members of the Daily Bugle staff who wouldn't stop harassing the residents and nurses busily moving throughout the facility.
The physician continued to pull Peter by his elbow and kicked open a large pair of double doors with the words Critical Patients stamped into the metal. "Jameson has demanded to see you, Parker. Normally I wouldn't give a damn. However, the man is in very critical condition and is insisting that he speak with you before any action be taken to put him under the knife. I've stabilized him for now but he will die if we don't operate. I plan to save this man's life, Parker. So be quick and satisfy the old bastard so I can do my job."
The physician abruptly let go of Peter's arm and continued to walk away from Peter. Peter took a halting step after the doctor and then noticed where he was. Another door sat to his right and through the window Peter could see J. Jonah Jameson splayed on a medical gurney with nurses hovering all around him. One of the nurses motioned for Peter to enter and he did. Almost immediately the nurses in the room vacated the area and Peter and Jameson were alone.
Jameson pulled the air hose from lips that had gone the same ashen color as the pallor of his skin. Jonah's eyes locked onto Peter and he motioned for Peter to take a seat with a hand covered in wires. Peter looked at the blood and the large amount of gauze covering the wound in Jonah's chest. The red taint of blood was slowly seeping through the cloth and spreading inexorably towards the edges. Peter moved to the side of Jonah as quickly as he could. The physician had not been making the situation anymore serious than it was. J. Jonah Jameson looked like a man at the doorstep of Death.
When Peter sat down Jonah closed his eyes and for a long moment they did not open. Peter felt fear clutch his heart as his mind pictured a funeral procession of Daily Bugle staff and the members of Jonah's family. Peter had been buried once before his time had come. He did not want the same for Jonah.
Peter almost got up to call the nurse when the eyes of J. Jonah Jameson fluttered back to life. When the man spoke it was with a weak whisper that Peter could barely hear. But he heard every word.
When Jonah had finished speaking he pointed down to the crumpled mass of his clothes and Peter nodded. J. Jonah Jameson smiled then and Peter fought to bring a smile to his own lips as well. It was at this moment that Peter realized what kind of a man J. Jonah Jameson truly was. A strong man… a noble man… a man that Peter finally realized wasn't wrong or evil just because of his dislike for Spider-Man. Peter resisted the tears that threatened to leak from his eyes as Jonah smiled weakly at him.
Peter reached down and rooted through the tattered clothes of J. Jonah Jameson and pulled out a crinkled file with the words - Parker, Peter - scrawled in red ink on the cover. This time the tears did slip from Peter's eyes as he rose to show Jonah that everything the man had gone through had not been in vain.
Jonah was dead.
Peter looked into the lifeless eyes of J. Jonah Jameson and a choking cry of pure dismay rose from his throat. The emergency area where Jonah was being kept was suddenly filled with hospital personnel. Peter struggled to remain in the room as nurses pushed him towards the exit. He strained his eyes to look upon the face of J. Jonah Jameson as the doctors huddled over his lifeless body.
Eventually Peter made his way back to the staff of the Daily Bugle. The file had long ago been tucked into his pants and was now invisible. Peter felt grief rush up and wash over him like the surf as his co-workers pleaded with him to tell them what had happened. As the sorrow washed over Peter a new feeling came to replace it. The staff of the Daily Bugle gradually quieted as Peter narrowed his eyes and his face curled into a ball of rage.
Peter Parker pushed through the people standing in front of him and began to run. He flung open the doors of the Emergency Ward and dashed off into the pelting rain that had just started to fall. Peter Parker ran long and far and the rain washed away his rage and replaced it once again with grief. When he was sure there were no eyes to see him he jumped to the summit of a nearby roof. Soon his clothes were shed and in their place was the red, black and blue form of Spider-Man. Spider-Man gripped the file in his quivering hands and began to cry.
Felicia Hardy stepped out of the scalding shower and draped a velvety towel around her body. The stifling water had relaxed her body well enough after her encounter with the Enforcers… but she still felt tense. The reaction Peter had given her after their kiss wasn't exactly what she had intended.*
[* As seen in issue #23 - Dino]
Peter had left her standing alone on the rooftop of the Daily Bugle and at first Felicia had felt fine about what had occurred. It had even seemed like old times when the Spider and the Black Cat had roamed New York City together beating on anyone who dared oppose them. Fighting Hobgoblin and the Enforcers had been just like that. Felicia craved those past days again. She wanted things to go back to the way they had been before when it was just her and Peter against the world.
At first she had been obsessed with the danger and the intrigue that being a super-hero had provided. But she had grown up a lot in the past few years. She still had the desire to play super-hero and she still had the desire to be with Peter. But her desire to be a super-hero wasn't fueled by a lust for danger. It was fueled by a sense of right and wrong. And her desire for Peter wasn't fueled by the power he had as the Spider. It was fueled by the simple fact that - in a way - she had loved him all this time. She still loved him. She didn't want to see him get hurt.
But she could tell Peter was hurting when she looked into his eyes on the roof of the Daily Bugle. His wife Mary Jane was dead. A bomb had killed a dozen innocent people and the city blamed Spider-Man for it. Felicia wouldn't have been surprised to find that there were even more things bothering Peter on top of that. If only she could help somehow. If only she could find some way to get him to let her in.
The kiss had been a mistake... a stupid mistake. In the past all she had to do was kiss Peter to take all of his troubles away. Things weren't that way anymore. All the kiss did was make Peter suspicious of her. But Felicia Hardy was determined not to let one kiss ruin all of her chances with Peter. She would find him again and talk to him. Eventually Peter would grow to trust her again. Eventually they could be good friends again. Eventually Peter would realize that Felicia Hardy was the one…
Someone was in the room with her.
Felicia froze as the shadows in her living room altered and a white face appeared as if from nowhere. Her muscles immediately tensed as Felicia slipped into a fighting stance.
"Who are you? What are you doing in my apartment?" said Felicia but the man with the pale face said nothing. "If you're here to rob the place. I guarantee you're in for a rude awakening!"
Felicia Hardy lunged at the man cloaked all in black and collided roughly with him. The man in black crashed to the ground and Felicia grabbed him by his dark cloak. She expected to see fear or pain in his eyes. What she did not expect to see were the absence of eyes altogether.
"My god," said Felicia as she sensed a shifting of movement from behind her. She whirled in time to see a flutter of red cloth and a demonic white face with insanity gleaming in its eyes. A thin ebony object shaped like a bat came crashing down on the head of Felicia Hardy and white starbursts lit behind her vision. The starbursts faded to red and then gray and then everything went black. But before Felicia Hardy faded into unconsciousness she registered the lingering scent of roses.
Dear Peter,
If you are reading this then it is almost certain that the esteemed publisher of the Daily Bugle is finally dead. I expect that you understand why it was necessary that Jameson be killed. But if you are still in the dark then let us just say that Jonah's friendship with Norman was always a matter of treading on thin ice.
But you aren't reading this because you want to hear about Jonah. No, you're reading it because of the lovely pictures contained within this file. Isn't she beautiful, Peter? You never imagined that she was still alive, did you? Norman and I have been keeping her for quite some time now.
But now I am the only one left to care for her. I considered killing her the same way you killed my beloved Norman. But that would hardly be fair. How can she be blamed for your mistakes? I would much rather see you dead for your crimes against my family. I think that is the best thing I could hope for.
But enough of this foolish letter that really means nothing in the overall scheme of things. Inside this file you will find specific directions, Peter. If you want her back I expect you to follow them to the letter. Think of it as a trail of petals for you to follow to your beloved. I'll see you at the end of the road.
-The Rose Goblin
Spider-Man crumpled the solitary sheet of paper in his hands and stared out across the rain-soaked street at the entrance to Oscorp Industries. The specific directions had simply told him to come to this place and step inside. He had gone over every inch of information within the file that Jonah had delivered to him but nothing else had really even mattered. The letter had been sealed within a plastic envelope that had never been penetrated. But the pictures and a few documents pertaining to them had never been sealed and Jonah had viewed them just before he had been shot.
Peter thought back to the whispered words of J. Jonah Jameson. Jameson had spoken of the first time he had been contacted. Jameson had spoken of the small pieces of information he received over time that hinted that someone Peter loved deeply was still alive. Jameson had spoken of finally meeting the mysterious source that had fed him all of his knowledge. Jameson had spoken of the pictures contained within the file that he saw with his own eyes. Jameson had spoken of how he felt when the bullet had pierced his chest as his source betrayed him. Jameson had spoken of Scrier.
Peter had listened intently to every word uttered from Jonah's lips. He knew of the pale-faced cabal of Scriers that Jonah had spoken of. The organization had been loyal to Norman Osborn and had collapsed when Norman died. But now it appeared as if they were back and that the Rose Goblin had assumed leadership over them.
Peter didn't care. All that truly mattered was the pictures contained within the file and the knowledge that the Rose Goblin was the one responsible for everything. Spider-Man flexed his taut muscles and in a single leap covered the distance of the street. He placed a hand on the door and pushed. The locks on the door cracked beneath the pressure and the door swung open. Spider-Man stepped inside.
Lights instantly illuminated the interior of the complex and Spider-Man was not surprised to see a trail of rose petals leading off into the distance. Spider-Man began to follow the petals without hesitation. The dying flowers layered the hallway in front of Spider-Man but didn't go far. Spider-Man stopped at the end of the trail of petals and peered at the closed door in front of him. Every instinct that Spider-Man had ever trusted screamed at him that he was walking into a trap.
Spider-Man gripped the doorknob of the room and turned it. The door swung open and darkness rose to greet him. Spider-Man stepped into the room and the door swung shut behind him. Again lights instantaneously lit the interior of the room. But this time the light was the color of blood.
Spider-Man's spider-sense activated from the deep recesses of his brain just as the room exploded all around him. Spider-Man was hurled into the air and struggled to maintain his sense of balance. As abruptly as it had started, the shaking stopped and Spider-Man landed roughly on the floor. Heavy breathing replaced the sifting sounds that had filled the void before and Spider-Man looked up… into the face of the Sandman.
There was no hesitation in Spider-Man as he attacked. He slammed a fist into the face of Sandman and the face was dashed into a mass of sand that pelted the wall behind the combatants. Spider-Man struck again at the chest of Sandman and it too was pummeled into nothing but strains of sand that pattered the ground.
Spider-Man jumped backwards and Sandman reformed himself. Spider-Man clenched his fists tightly and leapt at Sandman again but his progress was halted as a wall of hardened sand erupted from the floor in front of him. Spider-Man crashed into the wall of sand and hit the floor. His head throbbed from the inside out as Sandman encapsulated Spider-Man in a mass of sand that the villain rose above his own head. Spider-Man struggled to break free but Sandman held him in a grip that was more like steel than sand.
"Stop, Spider-Man," said a voice that sounded more tortured than it did wicked and Spider-Man did stop. He looked down into the face of Sandman as was surprised to see the tears that slipped from the grainy face and were absorbed as they fell. "I was supposed to kill you if I could, Spider-Man. The dark-man told me that if I did… the devil-lady would never bother me again."
Spider-Man listened to Sandman as his face rippled wildly with the sand fluctuating beneath it. "I told the dark-man that I would do it. But I'm not that person anymore. You helped me realize that, Spider-Man. So I'm going to let you go. There's a letter sitting beneath me. I can only assume that it's for you. I guess you better read it."
Spider-Man dropped to the ground as Sandman slipped into a great pile of sand. The pile sifted toward the closed door and filtered beneath it. Spider-Man watched Sandman leave and then turned to the letter. He opened it hastily and read.
Dear Peter,
If you are still alive to read this then you have beaten the Sandman and have come quite a way down the trail. I applaud your efforts, Spider-Man. But it is certainly not over yet. Go home, Peter Parker. Find the next piece to the puzzle. And remember… home is where the heart is.
-The Rose Goblin
"How long is it supposed to take, Robbie?" said Betty Brant as she paced back and forth on the worn tile floor of the hospital waiting room. Robbie Robertson looked up at Betty and couldn't find the words to answer her. He had convinced most of the staff to return to the Daily Bugle… but a few had chosen to remain.
Betty Brant, Ben Urich and Glory Grant shared the space of the waiting room with Robbie. Marla Jameson had arrived not long ago and Robbie had hastily explained that the physician in charge, Dr. Benton, had taken Jonah up to the operating room nearly half an hour ago. Now the time that Jonah and the doctor had been away was approaching a full hour and Robbie was growing more and more concerned with each passing second.
"Robbie?" said Betty again and met Robbie's eyes with her own. Robbie shook his head to convey the fact that he had no clue whatsoever and Betty Brant continued to pace the floor. Glory Grant stood with Ben in the corner of the waiting room. They both hunched over Styrofoam cups filled with black coffee. Robbie couldn't be sure, but he doubted that either one of them had taken even one sip.
Marla sat next to Robbie and on occasion would pluck her cellular phone from her purse and dial. Robbie watched intently on these occasions as Marla pressed the earpiece to her head firmly and her look gradually faded from one of hope to one of sorrow. Robbie had contacted Marla easily enough. But John Jameson it seemed was nowhere to be found. Jonah's son had long had problems with his father. But now the man was in a terrible fight for his life and needed all the support he could gather.
Robbie looked up to the clock planted into the plain hospital wall. An hour had now fully passed. J. Jonah Jameson was fighting for his life and there was nothing Robbie Robertson could do but wait. Robbie placed his hand on the curled fist of Marla Jameson and the woman tensed. Marla smiled weakly up at Robbie and her look became one of gratitude as her body gradually relaxed. Robbie found his own smile and patted her hand gently with his fingers.
There was nothing that Robbie Robertson could do for Jonah. But the others that loved Jonah were feeling the same way that he was. Sharing their pain was the only way to deal with the reality of the moment. It was the only way to remain sane.
Spider-Man hesitated for only the briefest of seconds before bursting through the door of his Aunt May's home in Forest Hills. The thought of frightening his Aunt May to death gave him pause. But the thought of finding her dead inside his childhood home cast every other thought from his mind with the power of a whirlwind.
Spider-Man leapt down the hallway leading from the front door. Rose petals stirred and flitted into the air as Spider-Man hurtled past them. Spider-Man followed the trail that he knew he would find into the den and stopped in his tracks.
His Aunt May was tied to a chair that had been taken from the kitchen table. Her motionless body was slumped in the chair with her chin resting on her chest. Peter rushed to his Aunt May and shook her lightly. He breathed a shuddering sigh of relief as the old woman began to stir. For a moment he had feared she was already gone.
A letter sat underneath one of the legs of the chair and Spider-Man stooped to pick it up. He unconsciously snapped the lengths of rope binding his Aunt May with one hand as he scanned the letter with eyes that had long grown weary of reading the withering scrawl of the Rose Goblin.
Dearest Peter,
GOTCHA! Come to your apartment now, Spider-Man. It is time to end the games. Come find the last trail of petals that will lead you to your death. I promise that if you survive this final encounter… all will be revealed to you.
-The Rose Goblin
Spider-Man lowered the letter to his side and crumpled it in his trembling fist. A hand closed over his shoulder and Spider-Man nearly reacted by lashing out with his fists. Then he remembered where he was and shame closed over his heart.
Aunt May turned Spider-Man toward her and narrowed her eyes. "I'm not sure what it is that you're doing here. I certainly don't know what foul business has brought you or that devil of a woman into my house. All I ask is that you leave this place and never come back. Don't ever come back. My family has suffered enough."
Spider-Man looked into the strong eyes of his Aunt May for a long moment and then nodded. Without a word he slipped out of the living room and jumped out into the soaking deluge from whence he had come. Aunt May followed Spider-Man to her door and watched as he swung away through the downpour. Then she closed her door and calmly swept up the rose petals that littered her floor… with tears in her eyes.
"Marla Jameson?" said a voice from across the room. Marla lifted her eyes from the floor she had been staring at intently for all this time. A man dressed in the light green operating attire Marla had so often seen on the television show, ER, approached her cautiously. The man was terribly thin with a head devoid of hair and thick stubble lining his jaw. His face seemed bruised from lack of sleep and despite her concerns over the health of her husband, Marla Jameson felt a surge of pity for this poor man.
Robbie Robertson also saw the doctor approach and he rose from his chair immediately and stared expectantly at the physician as he crossed the floor towards Marla. Ben, Glory and Betty had left for the night but had promised to come back tomorrow. Glory had even suggested that she drop by John Jameson's apartment to see if he was home. Marla had been extremely grateful for the suggestion and Robbie had found it amazing that the woman could show such gratitude and strength in the face of such tragedy. She was a remarkable woman.
The physician looked through Robbie Robertson as if he weren't even there and moved to stand directly in front of Marla Jameson. Robbie was slightly hurt and annoyed by the action but he understood the reasoning behind it. He was not family. The only family J. Jonah Jameson had was sitting in an uncomfortable hospital waiting room chair with tears barely concealed behind her strong eyes.
Marla stood up and folded her arms in front of her. "Is my husband going to live, doctor?"
The physician rubbed two strong fingers against his nose. Robbie watched as he did it and marveled at how clean his hands were. Moments before they could have been stained with blood. But now they were clean enough to hold a newborn child.
"Your husband is going to survive, Mrs. Jameson," said the physician and as the words passed from his lips, Robbie watched the strength slip from Marla Jameson as if she were a generator that had finally ran out of energy. Her knees buckled and she slumped down into the chair she had gotten up from moments before. Tears spilled from her eyes freely now and her chin dropped to her chest.
"Mrs. Jameson…?" said the doctor but then paused as Marla looked up at him. Marla Jameson was still crying but her face had changed from one of thinly veiled despair into a mask of unbridled joy. Robbie moved to her side and clutched her hand in his.
Marla looked at Robbie as if seeing him for the first time. "Robbie. Jonah is going to be ok."
"I know, Marla. I heard," said Robbie and felt tears track down his face as well. Robbie looked to the physician who had clasped his hands in front of him and was smiling weakly down at the two in front of him.
"I'll leave you two alone for now. When it is possible for you to see your husband I'll let you know, Mrs. Jameson," said the doctor and then turned and walked away. Robbie followed him with his eyes until he left the waiting room and then Marla clutched him close to her and began to cry anew.
Spider-Man crept along the brick-lined wall of his apartment building slowly. The window to the apartment that Peter shared with Randy was just below him. Spider-Man placed his gloved hands on the cold black metal of the fire escape and swung his body onto it. He trusted his spider-sense to warn him of any immediate attack from inside or outside the apartment.
Spider-Man leaned towards the darkened glass of his apartment and peered inside. After Randy had been carried away in the ambulance, Peter had returned to straighten the apartment up. It didn't appear as if anything had been disturbed since that time at all. Spider-Man could see nothing amidst the shadows that engulfed the entirety of his dwelling.
Spider-Man placed his fingers on the window and pressed upwards with his hands. The window rose soundlessly and a whisper of heated air slipped out and struck Spider-Man in the face. Spider-Man raised the window the rest of the way and slipped inside. His eyes were becoming adjusted to the dark and as Spider-Man came within the apartment he noticed the small slip of paper sitting on the ground.
Spider-Man moved cautiously towards the paper and stooped to pick it up. Then a grunt of sound issued forth from the darkness and Spider-Man's spider-sense went off. Spider-Man whirled around and was barely able to register the approaching shadow as it rammed into his chest. Spider-Man sailed through the air and crashed heavily into the wall of the apartment.
The moving shadow was on him almost instantly and Spider-Man felt and then saw fists of terrifying white come crashing down on his head. Spider-Man winced as the first blows struck him and then planted his feet. He pushed away from the ground towards the moving shadow and the mysterious assailant flew backwards with him. Spider-Man saw a frightening pallid face momentarily revealed in the shadows and struck at it. His fist struck the pale-faced man as they crashed to the ground and the attacker went limp.
Spider-Man rose to his feet as the shadow-man began to stir. Spider-Man knelt down and gripped the dark-man by his cloak and lifted him off of the ground. There was no need to speak the name of his attacker. He had seen plenty of them before… Scrier.
Scrier came alive in Spider-Man's grip and clawed at his face. Spider-Man reared back a fist and struck the man in the face. Scrier slumped to the ground again and clutched at his jaw. The dark-man looked up at Spider-Man with eyes that were not there and Spider-Man reached down and took hold of his mask.
Scrier struggled to pull away and cried out as Spider-Man pulled the mask from his face. Spider-Man yanked it free and Scrier screamed in agony.
"Who are you?" said Spider-Man as he wrapped his clenched fingers around Scrier's cloak once more. He hefted the dark-man to his feet and turned Scrier towards him. Then Spider-Man saw the face beneath the mask of Scrier and dropped the villain to his knees once more. He took a halting step away from the man who was now openly weeping and battering his fists on the ground.
John Jameson met the eyes of Spider-Man with his own. The eyes of the man were ringed with red and soaked in tears. The eyes of the man were insane.
"She made me do it, Spider-Man," said John Jameson and Spider-Man clenched his fists. "She made me into this… thing.
John Jameson's face cracked into one of complete misery and grief. "Oh…God! Please help me. I killed my own father. I killed him!"
Spider-Man watched silently as the man before him broke down and slipped deeper into his own despair. He watched the man for a few long moments and then flicked the buttons on his palms. Twin bursts of web-fluid erupted from the mechanical spinnerets on Spider-Man's wrists. John Jameson was soon webbed firmly to the floor.
Spider-Man searched the ground with his eyes and then stooped to pick up the final scrap of paper. He would call the police for John Jameson. They would find him exactly as he was now. Spider-Man tried to find some semblance of pity in his heart for the man and could find none. He unfolded the slip of paper and read.
Dear Peter,
The last stretch of trail lies before you. The time has finally come for the Goblin and the Spider to end this little game we have all played so well over the years. I feel a sense of destiny and closure as I write this letter. I wonder… do you feel it too? I think perhaps you do. Come to me, Peter. Come to the place you fear above all others. Come to the place where Spider-Man was truly born. I will be waiting for you there… and so will she.
-The Rose Goblin
Next Issue: Laughter in the Dark ends with the final confrontation between the Rose Goblin and Spider-Man