In case you missed it...
(or in case the writer took a ridiculously long time to write this issue)
-Peter and young May Parker have in recent months come under the patronage of the mysterious Aladdin Agency, prompting Peter to do special ‘favors’ for Aladdin agents Daniel Toy and Charlene Bronson out of respect for their arrangement. (issue 32)
- One of these ‘favors’ was the investigation of a mysterious weapon system entitled ‘The World’, which seems to have some connection to the Tinkerer and Liz Osborn. (issues 39, 40, 42) But the one man connected to all of this is Alexander Lukin (issues 40, 43)…who’s just purchased Oscorp and Kingsley Limited! (issue 46)
- Peter’s arch-nemesis, Liz Osborn, has told Peter she’s staying on the sidelines while Peter raises his daughter, (issue 37) but she’s hired the Ghost as a contract thug, and gotten someone else to don the Rose Goblin costume! (issue 42) But that couldn’t stop Lukin from taking Oscorp from her. Liz didn’t take that too kindly. (issue 46)
- The Hobgoblin came back to town, after having his company taken from him as well. He’s declared his vengeance on Lukin (issue 41) Whilst clearing out one of his many weapons depots, the Hobgoblin encountered Spider-Man and the Lizard, caused untold property damage to New York City before finally being hospitalized and arrested (issues 45-46)
- A new Foolkiller has started a strange pattern of murders and assaults in order to crush Spider-Man. The victims include J. Jonah Jameson (issue 38) and Curt Connors (Annual 2007), the latter of whom went to jail for the Foolkiller’s crime. The Foolkiller then gained a prototype of a Lizard formula, and used it on the incarcerated Connors—freeing the Lizard! (issues 43-45) When Spidey finally confronted him, the Foolkiller’s identity disturbingly reminded Spidey of his old friend, Russ Anderson…(issue 46)
- Eugene Patillo-Slodnik, the formerly fabulous Frog-man, has reappeared wearing the stolen costume of Spidey’s ally, the Prowler (Annual 2007, issue 41). Eugene is eager to help Peter however, and has given both Spidey and Betty Brant information regarding the World (issues 41, 42)
- Peter and Betty Brant have been enjoying each other’s company for a little while and finally went on a date! But that date was interrupted, and in turn gave Peter a bad case of food poisoning (issues 44, 45). Betty is at the moment babysitting Mayday...or is she?
- Angela Yin told Peter point-blank that she wants to be Spidey’s new photographer.(Annual 2007) She even went so far as to interject herself into the Spidey’s fight with the Lizard and then again with the Hobgoblin and the Foolkiller (issues 44-46) which had devastating consequences for the young photographer…
- Randy Robertson has returned to Peter’s life…and his spare room (Annual 2007). When Randy’s not working late tending the bars of Manhattan’s night life, he’s Peter’s preferred baby handler. He has some personal problems to work through, keeping just as many secrets from Peter as Peter keeps from him (issue 45)
- Watching over all this is the enigmatic ninja, Ronin, who’s helped both Eugene (issue 43) and Spidey (issue 42) in recent days, but still keeps his cards close to his chest.
(or in case the writer took a ridiculously long time to write this issue)
-Peter and young May Parker have in recent months come under the patronage of the mysterious Aladdin Agency, prompting Peter to do special ‘favors’ for Aladdin agents Daniel Toy and Charlene Bronson out of respect for their arrangement. (issue 32)
- One of these ‘favors’ was the investigation of a mysterious weapon system entitled ‘The World’, which seems to have some connection to the Tinkerer and Liz Osborn. (issues 39, 40, 42) But the one man connected to all of this is Alexander Lukin (issues 40, 43)…who’s just purchased Oscorp and Kingsley Limited! (issue 46)
- Peter’s arch-nemesis, Liz Osborn, has told Peter she’s staying on the sidelines while Peter raises his daughter, (issue 37) but she’s hired the Ghost as a contract thug, and gotten someone else to don the Rose Goblin costume! (issue 42) But that couldn’t stop Lukin from taking Oscorp from her. Liz didn’t take that too kindly. (issue 46)
- The Hobgoblin came back to town, after having his company taken from him as well. He’s declared his vengeance on Lukin (issue 41) Whilst clearing out one of his many weapons depots, the Hobgoblin encountered Spider-Man and the Lizard, caused untold property damage to New York City before finally being hospitalized and arrested (issues 45-46)
- A new Foolkiller has started a strange pattern of murders and assaults in order to crush Spider-Man. The victims include J. Jonah Jameson (issue 38) and Curt Connors (Annual 2007), the latter of whom went to jail for the Foolkiller’s crime. The Foolkiller then gained a prototype of a Lizard formula, and used it on the incarcerated Connors—freeing the Lizard! (issues 43-45) When Spidey finally confronted him, the Foolkiller’s identity disturbingly reminded Spidey of his old friend, Russ Anderson…(issue 46)
- Eugene Patillo-Slodnik, the formerly fabulous Frog-man, has reappeared wearing the stolen costume of Spidey’s ally, the Prowler (Annual 2007, issue 41). Eugene is eager to help Peter however, and has given both Spidey and Betty Brant information regarding the World (issues 41, 42)
- Peter and Betty Brant have been enjoying each other’s company for a little while and finally went on a date! But that date was interrupted, and in turn gave Peter a bad case of food poisoning (issues 44, 45). Betty is at the moment babysitting Mayday...or is she?
- Angela Yin told Peter point-blank that she wants to be Spidey’s new photographer.(Annual 2007) She even went so far as to interject herself into the Spidey’s fight with the Lizard and then again with the Hobgoblin and the Foolkiller (issues 44-46) which had devastating consequences for the young photographer…
- Randy Robertson has returned to Peter’s life…and his spare room (Annual 2007). When Randy’s not working late tending the bars of Manhattan’s night life, he’s Peter’s preferred baby handler. He has some personal problems to work through, keeping just as many secrets from Peter as Peter keeps from him (issue 45)
- Watching over all this is the enigmatic ninja, Ronin, who’s helped both Eugene (issue 43) and Spidey (issue 42) in recent days, but still keeps his cards close to his chest.
Back to GatefoldIssue #47 by Bryan Locke
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"NIGHT COURT"
Spider-Man crouched, shoulders slumped, in a bright, narrow hallway. His mind was spinning. It hadn’t stopped spinning since he’d laid eyes on the bloody form of Angela Yin. He didn’t know how long it had taken him to rush her here—he’d run out of webbing and had to bring her here on foot. He didn’t know how long he’d been waiting for word on whether Angela was going survive.
“Do you want some coffee? Or anything? At all?”
Peter raised his chin. She was wearing a white blouse and skirt, white leggings down to white shoes. She seemed to match everything in this place. Her hair was dark, and atop it sat a white nurse’s cap, emblazoned with the red cross.
Spider-Man just shook his head.
Georgia Jenkins, one of a trio of enigmatic ‘Night Nurses’, crouched to eye-level with the wall-crawler. She placed a warm hand on his shoulder. She said softly, “You’ve been here for hours. Aren’t there people who need you right now?"
Peter shuddered. There were people who needed him at that very second. It had been hours since he had disappeared from his apartment with Angela Yin to chase down the Lizard. He’d not only found a more monstrous form of Curt Connors, but also the Hobgoblin, and then the Foolkiller. How did this day grow so wildly out of control? For all he knew, Betty Brant was still waiting with Randy Robertson and Mayday back at Peter’s apartment. They were probably furious with him…
“I need to be here.” Peter said, his voice cracking. “The only reason she’s dying is because of me.” Peter wondered how many times he had said that about the people he cared for.
Georgia’s brown eyes blinked. “Well, I’m sure there’s more to that than you’re telling me. But you have to understand—”
Wide double-doors to Spider-Man’s left swung open, cracking hard against the wall. Spider-Man was already on his agile feet. The doctor wore green scrubs, stained brown with blood. Tight plastic stretched over her hair and her hands, similarly stained. A tight mask covered her mouth. Her white shoes squeaked with every step she took in the silent hallway.
Doctor Cecilia Reyes ripped the mask from her mouth. She pulled the gloves from her hands with mutual snaps. She threw the bloody bundle across the hall to a dingy, iron trash can. Leaning her back against the wall opposite Spider-Man, Cecilia slid down to sit in much the same position the web-slinger had been. She sighed heavily.
Spider-Man couldn’t wait for the silence to permeate. “Is Angela okay? Is she still alive?”
Cecilia looked up at him but gave no reply. Then, she looked over at Georgia, pointed at her. “You.” She said, “I know you have cigarettes in your hip pocket.”
Georgia frowned. She said, “You can’t smoke here.”
Cecilia threw up her hands. “This isn’t a hospital! This is the old, abandoned ESU campus in Queens! Three levels beneath us, construction crews are turning this place into a hotel! Just give me a cigarette!”
Georgia was still frowning when she threw the cigarette pack at Cecilia. The doctor caught them, pulled out one of the few remaining, along with the lighter that was also in the box. After lighting, then inhaling, and finally exhaling smoke, Cecilia coughed violently. After a few seconds of that, she wiped her lips.
“Ugh.” She said, “I knew there was a reason I quit.” Cecilia looked back at Georgia, and handed back the box. “But thanks. And you,” Cecilia turned back to Spider-Man, “you’re so lucky I should cut off your foot and wear it on my keychain.”
Spider-Man’s shoulders rose. “She’s gonna be okay?”
Cecilia shrugged. “I don’t know about that…but the bullet isn’t gonna kill her, if that’s what you mean. We gotta move her to a real hospital as soon as we can, and then maybe she can begin the recovery process. She isn’t getting up for a while.” She looked back at Georgia and thumbed toward the makeshift ‘operating room’. “How do you ‘nurses’ get access to all this equipment? Most of this stuff is better than what I get use on a daily basis. It’s like the Maria Stark Foundation has you on a secret payroll or something.”
Georgia smirked.
“Can I see her?” Spider-Man didn’t need an answer. He turned back to the double doors, and tried to enter.
Instead, the doors swung out at him. Through them, walked two other ‘Night Nurses’, similarly dressed as Georgia. They stopped him.
“Relax.” Linda Carter put her hand on his chest.
Christine Palmer interjected, her hand on his shoulder. “We can take it from here. She’s in good hands. You probably have somewhere you need to be, right?”
Spider-Man looked ready to protest, and just as quickly dropped that act. He knew they were right; who was he trying to fool? The Night Nurses probably had to give this same schtick to many of the heroes that passed through their care and hospitality. He turned back to Cecilia.
“Doctor Reyes,” Peter croaked, “you have no idea how much I—”
Cecilia held up a hand, and puffed a little more on the cigarette. Then she threw it to the tile and crushed it. She said, “It’s what I do. I don’t even know how the Night Nurses got my phone number…” Cecilia rolled her eyes as the Night Nurses all smirked at her. But even she was smirking when she looked back at Spider-Man, “Oh, go home, web-slinger. Angela’s gonna live.”
Spider-Man turned back to the double doors one last time. Through a small porthole he could see Angela. Well, not all of her. Massive equipment surrounded her, and a long white sheet shrouded her. But Spidey could see her face, and the various tubes winding from it. She looked so peaceful, like she was sleeping. Peter knew better.
His hands curled into fists.
There was an open window at the end of the hallway. Six wide steps with a smooth jump and he was out the window and scaling the wall.
I can’t go home just yet, Doctor Reyes. Peter told himself, I gotta make one quick stop first…
J. Jonah Jameson always had a hard time leaving the office behind. But these days, he had only one reason keeping him up so late at night. No, not Marla.
He looked down at the cigar he twirled nervously in his fingers. With his other hand, he kept flicking and then extinguishing his massive metallic lighter. There was too much on his mind to focus, even for just a few seconds to chomp, light, and inhale.
“You’re not the type to leave his window open, Triple-Jay.”
Every muscle in Jonah’s body tightened, but nonetheless he spun around in the opposite direction to face who had just spoken to him.
Spider-Man stood there, hands on his hips, head cocked to the side. “I need to pick your brain, sourpuss.”
“What?” Jonah yelled. “You think you can waltz right in here and take up my time? It’s enough for me to be threatened by a psychopath into printing stories about you*! Can’t you just leave me alone?”
“You gave me a hint! Don’t you remember?*” Spider-Man said. “You gave me the Foolkiller’s card and told me to watch out for him. Well, it paid off. You were willing to help me then. Help me now.”
(*- both were back in the Amazing Spider-Man Annual 2007- Bryan, wondering where 2008’s Annual is)
Jonah frowned, tasting how bitter it was that his past actions had caught up to him. He looked ready to speak when he was cut off by--
“Why do you need to know so badly?”
Spider-Man looked to the left, farther into Jonah’s massive office. He hadn’t seen the other party in the room, but, granted, Jonah’s office was never well lit. Betty Brant was sitting on the closer side of the massive, green leather couch. Spidey visibly gulped.
She probed closer. “What happened today?”
Spider-Man sighed. There wasn’t any point holding it off. They were going to find out sooner or later. He said, “The Foolkiller shot Angela Yin.”
“Christ!” Jonah grunted and at the same time--
“Oh my god!” Betty yelped, “She’s dead?”
Spidey shook his head furiously. “No! No, she’s not.”
“Where is she?” Betty’s chin was trembling.
Jonah snarled, pulling out his phone. “I always knew the kid had guts. Which hospital is she at?”
Spidey stammered some kind of reply. “I…don’t know…well, I mean, I know she’s alive, for sure.” He raised his hands defensively. “I mean, I left her in the hands of people who could take care of her.”
Jonah put his phone away, snarling and looked ready to spew when Betty again--
“What about Peter?” Betty stood, and suddenly, Spidey noticed, seemed a lot closer.
Spidey’s dry lips smacked as he said, “He’s…fine.”
“Parker?” Jonah huffed.
Betty said, “He was out with Angela Yin.” in Jonah’s direction, but she never wavered her gaze from Spider-Man. “Do you know he’s fine? Did you see him? Is he home with his daughter tonight?”
His stomach lurched, but Spidey answered with a, “Yes—to all those questions. But…he told me you were taking care of Mayday.”
Betty folded her arms, pursed her lips. “I left her in the hands of people who could take care of her.” Spidey slumped. Her sneer returned. “Don’t question my responsibilities.”
Spidey shook his head. He had to stop looking at her. His mind was reeling. This was getting far out of hand. All he wanted to do was go home to see his daughter, and he had wanted to make this trip to the Bugle as quick as possible. Instead, Betty was here, reminding him what a bad father he was. Maybe he deserved that…
Peter tried to focus on J. Jonah Jameson. “Just tell me what you know about the Foolkiller. I can find him in ways you can’t. I want to help.”
Jonah stiffened, reading the wall-crawling menace’s posture to tell him the truth. He grimaced, then looked back over his shoulder at Betty Brant. She still pursed her lips, and didn’t vacillate from where she stood, with arms over chest. Jonah sighed and looked back at Spider-Man.
“No. We’ll handle this.” Jonah said. “I’ve already got help of my own.*”
(*- check out Max2000 issues 21, 24 & 27 for exactly what Jonah was talking about- Bryan)
“What?” Spidey jerked his neck like he’d choked on something. “Do you know what kind of people you’re dealing with—”
“If Angela Yin knew who she was dealing with,” Betty was so loud, she was almost yelling, “then maybe she wouldn’t have been shot.”
Spidey felt his shoulders slump even farther. Maybe he deserved that too…“Fine.” Spidey threw his hands up. “That’s fine. I’m outta here.”
He was out the window the second afterward. The wind was colder, sharper than usual, but it didn’t impede his descent down the rough brick, or his leap over the street to the roof of the lower adjacent building.
Betty looked at Jonah the instant Spider-Man was gone. “I gotta go. I have to check on Peter.” She stood from the couch, gathering her jacket and purse from the cushion next to her.
Jonah nodded. “I’m going to try to find Yin. And her camera, hopefully.”
“Jonah!” Betty gasped.
Jonah shrugged. “What?” Then, he pointed at her. “Just don’t forget to bring Parker to the Stacy thing in a few days. He’s the only photographer in this town who’ll take such a low rate for photos anymore.”
Betty shook her head at her incorrigible boss and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mister Jameson.” She was out the door.
Spidey’s heels hit the cold concrete of his apartment’s roof. After bounding across the Manhattan skyline toward his Hawthorne Heights apartment, Spider-Man was relieved he was home. All he wanted to do was check Mayday, and then fall fast asleep. He crawled along the brick of the wall downwards a few levels, until he reached his bedroom window.
Locked. Spider-Man grunted (“Betty must’ve locked it”) and crawled toward his living room window. No lights there. But no spider-sense either. Was everyone asleep? Spidey remembered Betty’s cryptic words of leaving Mayday with ‘someone who could take care of her’. Surely Betty didn’t mean Randy…
Maybe, but he needed to be extra careful to not disturb Randy or May, especially in his costume. Randy usually left his door open on the nights he put May to bed in her crib in Peter’s room. First, spying in the window, he saw the room was dark, and there was no movement…but the television was on. Peter thought about how many times he had told Randy about trying to keep the power bill down. Spidey opened the window. Lithely, he was inside.
Peter couldn’t help but let out a long heave then. He was finally home after what had to be his worst day in a long time. But here he was, in familiar comforts, where nothing was going to set off his--
SPIDER-SENSE~!
“MEORROWRRR!”
“Ah!” Spidey had tried to keep from stepping on him but couldn’t help it. He watched a small, dark creature dart across the bright splatter of light pouring in from the window. “Smoke! You…you…cat! Your bed is in my--”
The living room lights flashed on.
“Uh-oh.” Spidey irked.
Randy Robertson, clad only in his boxers, stood there at the light switch. He and Spider-Man stared in stunned silence at one another for a few seconds. Randy’s eyes were wide, and he couldn’t tell, but Peter’s eyes were too.
Finally, Randy cleared his throat and said, “Um, can I help you?”
Spidey smacked his lips, and took a few steps backward toward the window. “Uhhh…just looking for Parker.” The old stand-by excuse--would it really work now?
“Uhhh…” Randy sounded just as awkward as Spidey. “Pete’s not here.”
Spidey took another few steps backward. “Yeah, I can see that.”
Then, Spidey saw what Randy held in his hands: two glasses of white wine. Spidey also noticed that Randy was nervously eying the futon on the other end of the room. Ever unsuspecting, Peter looked in that direction.
Huddled in the a corner of the futon, clutching tightly one of Aunt May’s hand-knitted blankets, was a girl. She was petite, with thick brown hair. She fumbled with her glasses, which she had grabbed from the nearby side table. She wasn’t wearing a shirt, hence the blanket.
Spider-Man whipped his head back toward Randy. Again, Randy couldn’t tell, but Peter’s eyes held a fiery stare at him.
“Oh, Spidey,” Randy was still nervous, even through his chuckling. “I’d like you to meet Kat Farrell. She’s a reporter with the Daily Bu--”
“I know who Kat Farrell is!” Spider-Man snapped. But he stopped, remembering Mayday in the other room. He started rubbing his sinuses through his mask. He glared at Randy. He tried to whisper but, strangely, it came out like a half-yell. “What is she doing half-naked on the futon?!”
Randy gulped, and after another nervous glace at Kat, “Uhhh…”
“There is a baby sleeping on the other side of that wall!” Spidey cocked his left thumb away from him.
Randy slumped a bit. “I know, man. Keep it down. She’s sleeping.”
“Sleeping?!” Peter’s temples were pulsing. “How do you know that? Anything could have happened to her! I was out there almost dying and you’re in here canoodling with a twenty-year-old!”
“Hey!” That was Kat Farrell. Still clutching the blanket tight over her chest, she said, “I’m twenty-one. How do you know how old I am?”
“Canoodling?” Randy repeated.
“Errr…” Spidey rubbed the back of his head. “I…” He looked back at Randy, but then relented and finally looked at the half-naked girl. “I’m only here making sure Peter’s daughter is okay.” Spidey suddenly felt something rubbing against his leg.
Smoke was back, and he was purring and rubbing against Spider-Man’s shin. Spidey started to tap him lightly with his toe. He whispered, “Back, go on, boy, get back, come on, boy…”
Kat sat up, and in the dimness of the overhead light, Peter could see how truly small she was. She didn’t seem nervous about the fact that she wasn’t wearing a shirt when she said, “Betty Brant called me over to take care of little May until Peter was back. Randy and I were worried sick all night. We watched every news channel for word on Peter’s condition! Is he okay?”
Again, there was silence. Spider-Man and Randy exchanged more nervous glances. It was clear Randy wasn’t going to say anything, so Spidey said, “Yes. Peter is just fine. Actually, he’ll be home in, say,” and he cocked his head at Randy, “about ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes?!” Randy gasped.
“Yeah.” Spider-Man put his hands on his hips, looked back at his roommate. “Ten minutes.”
Randy sighed, but when he looked at Spidey again, he stretched a thin grin on his lips. “Really? This time of night, trying to find a cab? I’d say it could take Peter, at least…” And his eyes kept flashing back to Kat Farrell, “saaaay…twenty minutes to get home?”
Spidey sighed. He was so tired. He couldn’t believe what he had walked in on, and really couldn’t argue right now. “Okay. I’ll say, twenty minutes.”
Randy’s smile widened. “You know…it could even take him forty minutes if he stopped to visit Aunt--”
“Don’t push your luck, Randy!” Spidey wagged a finger at him. Quickly regaining his composure, “I mean, uhhh, Parker would say ‘Don’t push your luck, Randy’ .”
Randy nodded. “Yeah…that sounds like something Peter would say.”
Kat Farrell was still staring from the futon, huddling with the blanket. She squinted through her thick rimmed glasses. “Well, sounds like you three are all good friends.”
“No!” Spidey and Randy shouted in unison, both looking at her.
Then Spider-Man cleared his throat. “I’ll uh, be leaving now.”
Randy, still smiling, said, “Thanks for stopping by though, Spider-Man.” He saluted him with a glass of wine. “I’ll tell Pete you were here, when I see him of course.”
Spidey scowled at Randy, but again, he knew Randy couldn’t see it. He left the disappointed Smoke without a petting, and with another few steps, he was crawling out the window, and back up to his roof. As he was climbing, he could hear Randy say behind him:
“Sorry for that interruption. Where were we?”
Exactly twenty minutes later, Peter slipped his key into the lock. The door slid open smoothly.
Randy was sitting (alone) on the futon. The television was on the local late-night news, and Peter saw the crater that the Hobgoblin had left in the Manhattan street. Randy stretched his neck to look behind him.
“You all right, man?” He called.
Peter, now dressed in the stash of street clothes he had webbed to a secret place on the roof, only huffed, drooping his shoulders, and said, “Yeah. I’m fine.” He dragged a duffel bag at his feet, which contained his costume, and empty web-shooters.
Randy clicked off the television. He watched Peter as he walked past him and the living room, farther toward his and Mayday’s room. Randy asked, “You sure? Anything you want to talk about? I’m here if you want to talk about something.”
Peter stopped. He really wanted to lay his eyes on his daughter, and then lay down in bed. Instead, he turned toward Randy. There was something he needed to get off his chest. Peter stared at him for a couple of seconds before finally just saying it. “So how long have you known I’m Spider-Man?”
Randy tensed, but after a couple seconds, relaxed. “I live with you, man. And I’m your best friend. I kind of had a feeling even before I read my dad’s diary.”
“What?” Peter dropped the duffel bag. His jaw looked as though it unhinged itself.
Randy sighed. “Yeah, sorry, man.” He heaved like he was letting a big weight off his back. “My dad knows too.* He keeps, like, these journals for his memoirs or something and I take a peek at them every now and then to see what he thinks about me. And, well…he mentioned something about it.”
(*- Joe “Robbie” Robertson discovered Peter’s identity back in M2K’s ASM issue 32 - Bryan)
Peter smacked his forehead. “I cannot believe this.” He turned from Randy and paced a few times across the floor. He looked back after a few good strides. “You were just going to keep this under the carpet?”
“Well,” Randy sighed, “yes…well, no. It was gonna come out sooner or later, right? But…I just wanna help.” He lowered his chin a little bit. “You’re my friend after all.” His voice got a little quieter. “You’re like my only friend. Even my dad thinks I’m a loser.”
Peter relaxed. He said, “Randy, come on, nobody thinks you’re a loser.”
Randy slouched farther into the futon. “Yeah, says the super-hero! You got it all, Pete: a beautiful daughter, a sweet apartment in the city, a stipend from the government…hell, you were even married to one of the most gorgeous women who ever walked the face of the planet. And you’re only a couple years older than me! Maybe if I hung around someone like you, it’d rub off on me a little bit.”
As fatigued as Peter was, there was a burst of energy sinking in through his chest. He sat down next to Randy on the futon. “Hey, man. I’m not exactly father of the year.” His face sagged. “I don’t think I ever won husband of the year either.” For a second he lost words, but then shook it off. “But, Randy, I’m glad you’re here.”
Randy looked up at him. “Yeah?”
Peter chuckled. “Sure. I don’t think I would’ve gotten this far without you taking care of Mayday.” But then, he darkened, “To be honest…I don’t know how I got this far even with your help.”
Randy pushed him. “Hey. Your little girl needs a hero. And yours isn’t the only one out there who does.” He smiled in the way that Peter hoped he would.
Peter nodded. “Right.” Then, he smirked. “Well, I’m sorry Kat Farrell didn’t decide to stick around.”
Randy frowned. “Yeah, you sound absolutely heartbroken.” But then he shrugged. “Speaking more literally of girls and heroes though, I learned there’s something about a man in spandex jumping through windows that turns women all the way off.”
“Welcome to my life, Rand.” Peter started once more toward his bedroom door. “I’m going to bed. It’s been one for the books.”
Just as Peter was about to grasp the knob of his bedroom door, a loud whine suddenly emanated from behind it. It did not subside. Peter lowered his chin. Running a hand through his greasy hair, he said, “Yep. Right on schedule, Mayday. When was the last time she ate?”
“Eh, hours ago. She went to bed earlier than usual.” Randy said quickly, and he was up on his feet, into the kitchen.
Peter was finally inside his room, and wasted no time scooping his furious daughter, blankets and all, into one arm to bounce her gently on his hip. “Shhh, Mayday,” He said lightly, and he pressed her against his chest. It felt so relieving, despite the fact that she was screaming. “I got you, girl.”
Randy was fumbling with the cap to May’s plastic bottle as Peter reentered the kitchen. Peter was going to offer some suggestions to Randy of the intricacy of such a machine, but he was cut off by a sharp rapping at the apartment door. Peter and Randy both looked at each other. May paid no mind, kept screaming.
Peter had a certain suspicion as he opened his front door. He was right. Betty Brant was still dressed in the professional attire that she had been in at Jonah’s office earlier. Peter briefly wondered if this day was ever going to end…
Betty didn’t ask to be let in, she simply walked through the threshold to Peter. “She wants to be held more than fed at this point.” Betty took May from him, shedding the thick blanket Peter had kept around the baby since taking her from the crib. She cuddled May tight against her shoulder, rubbing her back softly, cooing, “Shhh….”
May was quiet three seconds later. She was asleep again twenty seconds after that. Betty motioned toward Randy and, after a deft hand-off, he had May in one arm. May’s juice--which Randy had somehow gotten into the bottle--was ready in his other hand, just in case. Betty then, at last, looked at Peter.
“I…” She looked like she didn’t want to say anything at all, “I need to talk to you.” Peter saw tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “Alone.”
Peter grasped Betty by her hand. He said, “Right.” and then he looked at Randy. “You should get some food ready too just in case--”
“On it.” Randy said softly, keeping May steady in one hand, while working the fridge in the other.
Peter led Betty after him, into the relative sanctuary of his and May’s bedroom. It wasn’t the tidiest, with mostly May’s gear strung about over Peter’s own laundry. It hardly bothered Peter as he flicked on the light, shut the door. He was sure to give Smoke a little push out the door before it was fully closed. Then he turned back to Betty. “What’s going on?”
Betty was avoiding his gaze. She shut her eyes tight for a second and that was enough; tears started streaming down her cheeks. “Oh Peter…”
Peter pulled her into a hug. After another few moments Betty started to hug him back. He felt his shoulder dampen. Betty clutched him tighter and tighter with every muffled sob, elegant nails digging into his back, never too harshly. He tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to him. She was almost completely different from the woman who had encountered him earlier in the night.
Peter frowned. Betty had encountered Spider-Man earlier. Only now was she able to show this side of herself to Peter. He wasn’t wearing a mask. He wasn’t trying to be a hero. He wasn’t trying to save her life. He was doing the easiest thing in the world. It was the right thing to do. He was helping her. Wasn’t that what he always tried to do with everyone?
It’s what he tried to do with Angela Yin. But Spider-Man couldn’t save her. All because he kept forgetting to refill his web-shooters like normal people forget to set their alarm clocks. Peter only clasped Betty tighter, his arms wrapped downward at her waist.
Betty finally pushed him back, regaining her composure. “Peter…” She wiped her eyes and pulled at her blouse, straightening it. But she couldn’t keep the tears back. “I’m…sorry, Peter. I’m so sorry.”
“What?” Peter felt his face flush. “What are you talking about?”
“I…I left May.” Betty said, “I left, and I shouldn’t have. But I…I got a call from--from Leo, er--he’s one of my guys in the NYPD, and I went to meet him*.” Again, she was trying to avoid looking directly into Peter’s eyes. “He had a lead on something huge and…and we went out to Queens and…oh god, Peter,” She put her face in her hands. “He’s dead. Oh, god, Leo’s dead…I saw him less than two hours ago…”
(*-that would be in Max2000 issue 27 - multi-tasking Bryan)
Peter quickly hugged her again before she lost herself. He had no idea who Betty was talking about, but Peter obviously got the gist of what she was trying to say…her friend had been killed. Peter’s mind flashed back once more to Angela Yin.
Betty forced him back again. She said, “And I didn’t know what happened to you! Just watching the news with Randy, waiting for something, anything--do you know what that was like? I must’ve sent Kat dozens of texts after I left, asking if you were home. And then, I heard about Leo, and I still didn’t know where you were…I saw Spider-Man at the Bugle, but he was just so damn cryptic! I never get a straight answer out of him!”
Peter cringed at her words.
Betty relaxed and brightened for just a split second as she said, “But I’m so happy you’re okay.” Her hands found themselves hooked in Peter’s again. “If I’d lost you too tonight, I just…I mean--I’m sorry I left. Maybe if I hadn’t--”
“Betty.” Peter interrupted her. “It wasn’t your fault. Whatever happened to Leo was not your fault. You did what you thought was right. That’s all you ever do.” His chest felt heavy. “It’s why you’re one of the few people I completely trust with my daughter. I shouldn’t have made you worry like that.”
Betty, shockingly, laughed, wiping her cheeks as she did. “Parker, after all this time, I should know better than to worry about you.” She pulled Peter even closer to her now. She arched her chin toward his, and said, “You may not always be around, but you have a way of being there right when I need you.”
Betty kissed him. Peter couldn’t help but kiss her back. It felt like the easiest thing in the world to do. It felt like exactly the right thing to do.
Randy watched the sliver of light from under Peter’s door flick out. “Awww, maaan….I knew it!”
Mayday stirred a bit from the bundle on the couch next to him. Smoke the cat had curled up gently at her side. Randy kept his voice down this time, leaning over to say, “As soon as I saw them shut the door, I knew we three were gonna be spending some quality time together.”
May burped.
Randy chuckled, “Whoa, this conversation is getting a bit too intellectual for me.” He yawned, and stretched his arms, before spying Peter’s duffel bag, still sitting innocently in the middle of the floor. Randy shook his head, and stood up to grab the bag.
“You know, Pete,” Randy spoke in whisper toward the closed door, “sometimes, it’s a damn wonder how you manage to keep your identity a secret at all.”
He tucked the bag under the futon, and smiled to himself as he sat back down on the couch to turn on the television. He kept the volume low enough to the point that he hoped it would lull May safely to sleep. Smoke had already beat her to it. Randy felt his own body suddenly become heavier, so he put his feet up on the table, and closed his eyes.
Despite his earlier lesson about strange men and living room windows, Randy didn’t even notice the movement around Peter’s window, the shadow that dashed silently across the panes.
Ronin had watched the entire procession before his eyes. Now he knew there was nothing more to see. Before he left, he huffed, and shook his head. Then, gracefully, Ronin bounded from the rail of Peter’s balcony, dashing past the couple balconies above in much the same fashion.
NEXT ISSUE: This night may be over, but tomorrow night is a whole other story! Just what does J. Jonah Jameson want Peter Parker to do for him? And what kind of trouble has Eugene, err, Frogman, err, I mean, the Prowler gotten himself into this time? Plus, don’t miss the Amazing Spider-Man Annual 2009, featuring Doc Samson, and the identity of Ronin!
“Do you want some coffee? Or anything? At all?”
Peter raised his chin. She was wearing a white blouse and skirt, white leggings down to white shoes. She seemed to match everything in this place. Her hair was dark, and atop it sat a white nurse’s cap, emblazoned with the red cross.
Spider-Man just shook his head.
Georgia Jenkins, one of a trio of enigmatic ‘Night Nurses’, crouched to eye-level with the wall-crawler. She placed a warm hand on his shoulder. She said softly, “You’ve been here for hours. Aren’t there people who need you right now?"
Peter shuddered. There were people who needed him at that very second. It had been hours since he had disappeared from his apartment with Angela Yin to chase down the Lizard. He’d not only found a more monstrous form of Curt Connors, but also the Hobgoblin, and then the Foolkiller. How did this day grow so wildly out of control? For all he knew, Betty Brant was still waiting with Randy Robertson and Mayday back at Peter’s apartment. They were probably furious with him…
“I need to be here.” Peter said, his voice cracking. “The only reason she’s dying is because of me.” Peter wondered how many times he had said that about the people he cared for.
Georgia’s brown eyes blinked. “Well, I’m sure there’s more to that than you’re telling me. But you have to understand—”
Wide double-doors to Spider-Man’s left swung open, cracking hard against the wall. Spider-Man was already on his agile feet. The doctor wore green scrubs, stained brown with blood. Tight plastic stretched over her hair and her hands, similarly stained. A tight mask covered her mouth. Her white shoes squeaked with every step she took in the silent hallway.
Doctor Cecilia Reyes ripped the mask from her mouth. She pulled the gloves from her hands with mutual snaps. She threw the bloody bundle across the hall to a dingy, iron trash can. Leaning her back against the wall opposite Spider-Man, Cecilia slid down to sit in much the same position the web-slinger had been. She sighed heavily.
Spider-Man couldn’t wait for the silence to permeate. “Is Angela okay? Is she still alive?”
Cecilia looked up at him but gave no reply. Then, she looked over at Georgia, pointed at her. “You.” She said, “I know you have cigarettes in your hip pocket.”
Georgia frowned. She said, “You can’t smoke here.”
Cecilia threw up her hands. “This isn’t a hospital! This is the old, abandoned ESU campus in Queens! Three levels beneath us, construction crews are turning this place into a hotel! Just give me a cigarette!”
Georgia was still frowning when she threw the cigarette pack at Cecilia. The doctor caught them, pulled out one of the few remaining, along with the lighter that was also in the box. After lighting, then inhaling, and finally exhaling smoke, Cecilia coughed violently. After a few seconds of that, she wiped her lips.
“Ugh.” She said, “I knew there was a reason I quit.” Cecilia looked back at Georgia, and handed back the box. “But thanks. And you,” Cecilia turned back to Spider-Man, “you’re so lucky I should cut off your foot and wear it on my keychain.”
Spider-Man’s shoulders rose. “She’s gonna be okay?”
Cecilia shrugged. “I don’t know about that…but the bullet isn’t gonna kill her, if that’s what you mean. We gotta move her to a real hospital as soon as we can, and then maybe she can begin the recovery process. She isn’t getting up for a while.” She looked back at Georgia and thumbed toward the makeshift ‘operating room’. “How do you ‘nurses’ get access to all this equipment? Most of this stuff is better than what I get use on a daily basis. It’s like the Maria Stark Foundation has you on a secret payroll or something.”
Georgia smirked.
“Can I see her?” Spider-Man didn’t need an answer. He turned back to the double doors, and tried to enter.
Instead, the doors swung out at him. Through them, walked two other ‘Night Nurses’, similarly dressed as Georgia. They stopped him.
“Relax.” Linda Carter put her hand on his chest.
Christine Palmer interjected, her hand on his shoulder. “We can take it from here. She’s in good hands. You probably have somewhere you need to be, right?”
Spider-Man looked ready to protest, and just as quickly dropped that act. He knew they were right; who was he trying to fool? The Night Nurses probably had to give this same schtick to many of the heroes that passed through their care and hospitality. He turned back to Cecilia.
“Doctor Reyes,” Peter croaked, “you have no idea how much I—”
Cecilia held up a hand, and puffed a little more on the cigarette. Then she threw it to the tile and crushed it. She said, “It’s what I do. I don’t even know how the Night Nurses got my phone number…” Cecilia rolled her eyes as the Night Nurses all smirked at her. But even she was smirking when she looked back at Spider-Man, “Oh, go home, web-slinger. Angela’s gonna live.”
Spider-Man turned back to the double doors one last time. Through a small porthole he could see Angela. Well, not all of her. Massive equipment surrounded her, and a long white sheet shrouded her. But Spidey could see her face, and the various tubes winding from it. She looked so peaceful, like she was sleeping. Peter knew better.
His hands curled into fists.
There was an open window at the end of the hallway. Six wide steps with a smooth jump and he was out the window and scaling the wall.
I can’t go home just yet, Doctor Reyes. Peter told himself, I gotta make one quick stop first…
J. Jonah Jameson always had a hard time leaving the office behind. But these days, he had only one reason keeping him up so late at night. No, not Marla.
He looked down at the cigar he twirled nervously in his fingers. With his other hand, he kept flicking and then extinguishing his massive metallic lighter. There was too much on his mind to focus, even for just a few seconds to chomp, light, and inhale.
“You’re not the type to leave his window open, Triple-Jay.”
Every muscle in Jonah’s body tightened, but nonetheless he spun around in the opposite direction to face who had just spoken to him.
Spider-Man stood there, hands on his hips, head cocked to the side. “I need to pick your brain, sourpuss.”
“What?” Jonah yelled. “You think you can waltz right in here and take up my time? It’s enough for me to be threatened by a psychopath into printing stories about you*! Can’t you just leave me alone?”
“You gave me a hint! Don’t you remember?*” Spider-Man said. “You gave me the Foolkiller’s card and told me to watch out for him. Well, it paid off. You were willing to help me then. Help me now.”
(*- both were back in the Amazing Spider-Man Annual 2007- Bryan, wondering where 2008’s Annual is)
Jonah frowned, tasting how bitter it was that his past actions had caught up to him. He looked ready to speak when he was cut off by--
“Why do you need to know so badly?”
Spider-Man looked to the left, farther into Jonah’s massive office. He hadn’t seen the other party in the room, but, granted, Jonah’s office was never well lit. Betty Brant was sitting on the closer side of the massive, green leather couch. Spidey visibly gulped.
She probed closer. “What happened today?”
Spider-Man sighed. There wasn’t any point holding it off. They were going to find out sooner or later. He said, “The Foolkiller shot Angela Yin.”
“Christ!” Jonah grunted and at the same time--
“Oh my god!” Betty yelped, “She’s dead?”
Spidey shook his head furiously. “No! No, she’s not.”
“Where is she?” Betty’s chin was trembling.
Jonah snarled, pulling out his phone. “I always knew the kid had guts. Which hospital is she at?”
Spidey stammered some kind of reply. “I…don’t know…well, I mean, I know she’s alive, for sure.” He raised his hands defensively. “I mean, I left her in the hands of people who could take care of her.”
Jonah put his phone away, snarling and looked ready to spew when Betty again--
“What about Peter?” Betty stood, and suddenly, Spidey noticed, seemed a lot closer.
Spidey’s dry lips smacked as he said, “He’s…fine.”
“Parker?” Jonah huffed.
Betty said, “He was out with Angela Yin.” in Jonah’s direction, but she never wavered her gaze from Spider-Man. “Do you know he’s fine? Did you see him? Is he home with his daughter tonight?”
His stomach lurched, but Spidey answered with a, “Yes—to all those questions. But…he told me you were taking care of Mayday.”
Betty folded her arms, pursed her lips. “I left her in the hands of people who could take care of her.” Spidey slumped. Her sneer returned. “Don’t question my responsibilities.”
Spidey shook his head. He had to stop looking at her. His mind was reeling. This was getting far out of hand. All he wanted to do was go home to see his daughter, and he had wanted to make this trip to the Bugle as quick as possible. Instead, Betty was here, reminding him what a bad father he was. Maybe he deserved that…
Peter tried to focus on J. Jonah Jameson. “Just tell me what you know about the Foolkiller. I can find him in ways you can’t. I want to help.”
Jonah stiffened, reading the wall-crawling menace’s posture to tell him the truth. He grimaced, then looked back over his shoulder at Betty Brant. She still pursed her lips, and didn’t vacillate from where she stood, with arms over chest. Jonah sighed and looked back at Spider-Man.
“No. We’ll handle this.” Jonah said. “I’ve already got help of my own.*”
(*- check out Max2000 issues 21, 24 & 27 for exactly what Jonah was talking about- Bryan)
“What?” Spidey jerked his neck like he’d choked on something. “Do you know what kind of people you’re dealing with—”
“If Angela Yin knew who she was dealing with,” Betty was so loud, she was almost yelling, “then maybe she wouldn’t have been shot.”
Spidey felt his shoulders slump even farther. Maybe he deserved that too…“Fine.” Spidey threw his hands up. “That’s fine. I’m outta here.”
He was out the window the second afterward. The wind was colder, sharper than usual, but it didn’t impede his descent down the rough brick, or his leap over the street to the roof of the lower adjacent building.
Betty looked at Jonah the instant Spider-Man was gone. “I gotta go. I have to check on Peter.” She stood from the couch, gathering her jacket and purse from the cushion next to her.
Jonah nodded. “I’m going to try to find Yin. And her camera, hopefully.”
“Jonah!” Betty gasped.
Jonah shrugged. “What?” Then, he pointed at her. “Just don’t forget to bring Parker to the Stacy thing in a few days. He’s the only photographer in this town who’ll take such a low rate for photos anymore.”
Betty shook her head at her incorrigible boss and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mister Jameson.” She was out the door.
Spidey’s heels hit the cold concrete of his apartment’s roof. After bounding across the Manhattan skyline toward his Hawthorne Heights apartment, Spider-Man was relieved he was home. All he wanted to do was check Mayday, and then fall fast asleep. He crawled along the brick of the wall downwards a few levels, until he reached his bedroom window.
Locked. Spider-Man grunted (“Betty must’ve locked it”) and crawled toward his living room window. No lights there. But no spider-sense either. Was everyone asleep? Spidey remembered Betty’s cryptic words of leaving Mayday with ‘someone who could take care of her’. Surely Betty didn’t mean Randy…
Maybe, but he needed to be extra careful to not disturb Randy or May, especially in his costume. Randy usually left his door open on the nights he put May to bed in her crib in Peter’s room. First, spying in the window, he saw the room was dark, and there was no movement…but the television was on. Peter thought about how many times he had told Randy about trying to keep the power bill down. Spidey opened the window. Lithely, he was inside.
Peter couldn’t help but let out a long heave then. He was finally home after what had to be his worst day in a long time. But here he was, in familiar comforts, where nothing was going to set off his--
SPIDER-SENSE~!
“MEORROWRRR!”
“Ah!” Spidey had tried to keep from stepping on him but couldn’t help it. He watched a small, dark creature dart across the bright splatter of light pouring in from the window. “Smoke! You…you…cat! Your bed is in my--”
The living room lights flashed on.
“Uh-oh.” Spidey irked.
Randy Robertson, clad only in his boxers, stood there at the light switch. He and Spider-Man stared in stunned silence at one another for a few seconds. Randy’s eyes were wide, and he couldn’t tell, but Peter’s eyes were too.
Finally, Randy cleared his throat and said, “Um, can I help you?”
Spidey smacked his lips, and took a few steps backward toward the window. “Uhhh…just looking for Parker.” The old stand-by excuse--would it really work now?
“Uhhh…” Randy sounded just as awkward as Spidey. “Pete’s not here.”
Spidey took another few steps backward. “Yeah, I can see that.”
Then, Spidey saw what Randy held in his hands: two glasses of white wine. Spidey also noticed that Randy was nervously eying the futon on the other end of the room. Ever unsuspecting, Peter looked in that direction.
Huddled in the a corner of the futon, clutching tightly one of Aunt May’s hand-knitted blankets, was a girl. She was petite, with thick brown hair. She fumbled with her glasses, which she had grabbed from the nearby side table. She wasn’t wearing a shirt, hence the blanket.
Spider-Man whipped his head back toward Randy. Again, Randy couldn’t tell, but Peter’s eyes held a fiery stare at him.
“Oh, Spidey,” Randy was still nervous, even through his chuckling. “I’d like you to meet Kat Farrell. She’s a reporter with the Daily Bu--”
“I know who Kat Farrell is!” Spider-Man snapped. But he stopped, remembering Mayday in the other room. He started rubbing his sinuses through his mask. He glared at Randy. He tried to whisper but, strangely, it came out like a half-yell. “What is she doing half-naked on the futon?!”
Randy gulped, and after another nervous glace at Kat, “Uhhh…”
“There is a baby sleeping on the other side of that wall!” Spidey cocked his left thumb away from him.
Randy slumped a bit. “I know, man. Keep it down. She’s sleeping.”
“Sleeping?!” Peter’s temples were pulsing. “How do you know that? Anything could have happened to her! I was out there almost dying and you’re in here canoodling with a twenty-year-old!”
“Hey!” That was Kat Farrell. Still clutching the blanket tight over her chest, she said, “I’m twenty-one. How do you know how old I am?”
“Canoodling?” Randy repeated.
“Errr…” Spidey rubbed the back of his head. “I…” He looked back at Randy, but then relented and finally looked at the half-naked girl. “I’m only here making sure Peter’s daughter is okay.” Spidey suddenly felt something rubbing against his leg.
Smoke was back, and he was purring and rubbing against Spider-Man’s shin. Spidey started to tap him lightly with his toe. He whispered, “Back, go on, boy, get back, come on, boy…”
Kat sat up, and in the dimness of the overhead light, Peter could see how truly small she was. She didn’t seem nervous about the fact that she wasn’t wearing a shirt when she said, “Betty Brant called me over to take care of little May until Peter was back. Randy and I were worried sick all night. We watched every news channel for word on Peter’s condition! Is he okay?”
Again, there was silence. Spider-Man and Randy exchanged more nervous glances. It was clear Randy wasn’t going to say anything, so Spidey said, “Yes. Peter is just fine. Actually, he’ll be home in, say,” and he cocked his head at Randy, “about ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes?!” Randy gasped.
“Yeah.” Spider-Man put his hands on his hips, looked back at his roommate. “Ten minutes.”
Randy sighed, but when he looked at Spidey again, he stretched a thin grin on his lips. “Really? This time of night, trying to find a cab? I’d say it could take Peter, at least…” And his eyes kept flashing back to Kat Farrell, “saaaay…twenty minutes to get home?”
Spidey sighed. He was so tired. He couldn’t believe what he had walked in on, and really couldn’t argue right now. “Okay. I’ll say, twenty minutes.”
Randy’s smile widened. “You know…it could even take him forty minutes if he stopped to visit Aunt--”
“Don’t push your luck, Randy!” Spidey wagged a finger at him. Quickly regaining his composure, “I mean, uhhh, Parker would say ‘Don’t push your luck, Randy’ .”
Randy nodded. “Yeah…that sounds like something Peter would say.”
Kat Farrell was still staring from the futon, huddling with the blanket. She squinted through her thick rimmed glasses. “Well, sounds like you three are all good friends.”
“No!” Spidey and Randy shouted in unison, both looking at her.
Then Spider-Man cleared his throat. “I’ll uh, be leaving now.”
Randy, still smiling, said, “Thanks for stopping by though, Spider-Man.” He saluted him with a glass of wine. “I’ll tell Pete you were here, when I see him of course.”
Spidey scowled at Randy, but again, he knew Randy couldn’t see it. He left the disappointed Smoke without a petting, and with another few steps, he was crawling out the window, and back up to his roof. As he was climbing, he could hear Randy say behind him:
“Sorry for that interruption. Where were we?”
Exactly twenty minutes later, Peter slipped his key into the lock. The door slid open smoothly.
Randy was sitting (alone) on the futon. The television was on the local late-night news, and Peter saw the crater that the Hobgoblin had left in the Manhattan street. Randy stretched his neck to look behind him.
“You all right, man?” He called.
Peter, now dressed in the stash of street clothes he had webbed to a secret place on the roof, only huffed, drooping his shoulders, and said, “Yeah. I’m fine.” He dragged a duffel bag at his feet, which contained his costume, and empty web-shooters.
Randy clicked off the television. He watched Peter as he walked past him and the living room, farther toward his and Mayday’s room. Randy asked, “You sure? Anything you want to talk about? I’m here if you want to talk about something.”
Peter stopped. He really wanted to lay his eyes on his daughter, and then lay down in bed. Instead, he turned toward Randy. There was something he needed to get off his chest. Peter stared at him for a couple of seconds before finally just saying it. “So how long have you known I’m Spider-Man?”
Randy tensed, but after a couple seconds, relaxed. “I live with you, man. And I’m your best friend. I kind of had a feeling even before I read my dad’s diary.”
“What?” Peter dropped the duffel bag. His jaw looked as though it unhinged itself.
Randy sighed. “Yeah, sorry, man.” He heaved like he was letting a big weight off his back. “My dad knows too.* He keeps, like, these journals for his memoirs or something and I take a peek at them every now and then to see what he thinks about me. And, well…he mentioned something about it.”
(*- Joe “Robbie” Robertson discovered Peter’s identity back in M2K’s ASM issue 32 - Bryan)
Peter smacked his forehead. “I cannot believe this.” He turned from Randy and paced a few times across the floor. He looked back after a few good strides. “You were just going to keep this under the carpet?”
“Well,” Randy sighed, “yes…well, no. It was gonna come out sooner or later, right? But…I just wanna help.” He lowered his chin a little bit. “You’re my friend after all.” His voice got a little quieter. “You’re like my only friend. Even my dad thinks I’m a loser.”
Peter relaxed. He said, “Randy, come on, nobody thinks you’re a loser.”
Randy slouched farther into the futon. “Yeah, says the super-hero! You got it all, Pete: a beautiful daughter, a sweet apartment in the city, a stipend from the government…hell, you were even married to one of the most gorgeous women who ever walked the face of the planet. And you’re only a couple years older than me! Maybe if I hung around someone like you, it’d rub off on me a little bit.”
As fatigued as Peter was, there was a burst of energy sinking in through his chest. He sat down next to Randy on the futon. “Hey, man. I’m not exactly father of the year.” His face sagged. “I don’t think I ever won husband of the year either.” For a second he lost words, but then shook it off. “But, Randy, I’m glad you’re here.”
Randy looked up at him. “Yeah?”
Peter chuckled. “Sure. I don’t think I would’ve gotten this far without you taking care of Mayday.” But then, he darkened, “To be honest…I don’t know how I got this far even with your help.”
Randy pushed him. “Hey. Your little girl needs a hero. And yours isn’t the only one out there who does.” He smiled in the way that Peter hoped he would.
Peter nodded. “Right.” Then, he smirked. “Well, I’m sorry Kat Farrell didn’t decide to stick around.”
Randy frowned. “Yeah, you sound absolutely heartbroken.” But then he shrugged. “Speaking more literally of girls and heroes though, I learned there’s something about a man in spandex jumping through windows that turns women all the way off.”
“Welcome to my life, Rand.” Peter started once more toward his bedroom door. “I’m going to bed. It’s been one for the books.”
Just as Peter was about to grasp the knob of his bedroom door, a loud whine suddenly emanated from behind it. It did not subside. Peter lowered his chin. Running a hand through his greasy hair, he said, “Yep. Right on schedule, Mayday. When was the last time she ate?”
“Eh, hours ago. She went to bed earlier than usual.” Randy said quickly, and he was up on his feet, into the kitchen.
Peter was finally inside his room, and wasted no time scooping his furious daughter, blankets and all, into one arm to bounce her gently on his hip. “Shhh, Mayday,” He said lightly, and he pressed her against his chest. It felt so relieving, despite the fact that she was screaming. “I got you, girl.”
Randy was fumbling with the cap to May’s plastic bottle as Peter reentered the kitchen. Peter was going to offer some suggestions to Randy of the intricacy of such a machine, but he was cut off by a sharp rapping at the apartment door. Peter and Randy both looked at each other. May paid no mind, kept screaming.
Peter had a certain suspicion as he opened his front door. He was right. Betty Brant was still dressed in the professional attire that she had been in at Jonah’s office earlier. Peter briefly wondered if this day was ever going to end…
Betty didn’t ask to be let in, she simply walked through the threshold to Peter. “She wants to be held more than fed at this point.” Betty took May from him, shedding the thick blanket Peter had kept around the baby since taking her from the crib. She cuddled May tight against her shoulder, rubbing her back softly, cooing, “Shhh….”
May was quiet three seconds later. She was asleep again twenty seconds after that. Betty motioned toward Randy and, after a deft hand-off, he had May in one arm. May’s juice--which Randy had somehow gotten into the bottle--was ready in his other hand, just in case. Betty then, at last, looked at Peter.
“I…” She looked like she didn’t want to say anything at all, “I need to talk to you.” Peter saw tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “Alone.”
Peter grasped Betty by her hand. He said, “Right.” and then he looked at Randy. “You should get some food ready too just in case--”
“On it.” Randy said softly, keeping May steady in one hand, while working the fridge in the other.
Peter led Betty after him, into the relative sanctuary of his and May’s bedroom. It wasn’t the tidiest, with mostly May’s gear strung about over Peter’s own laundry. It hardly bothered Peter as he flicked on the light, shut the door. He was sure to give Smoke a little push out the door before it was fully closed. Then he turned back to Betty. “What’s going on?”
Betty was avoiding his gaze. She shut her eyes tight for a second and that was enough; tears started streaming down her cheeks. “Oh Peter…”
Peter pulled her into a hug. After another few moments Betty started to hug him back. He felt his shoulder dampen. Betty clutched him tighter and tighter with every muffled sob, elegant nails digging into his back, never too harshly. He tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to him. She was almost completely different from the woman who had encountered him earlier in the night.
Peter frowned. Betty had encountered Spider-Man earlier. Only now was she able to show this side of herself to Peter. He wasn’t wearing a mask. He wasn’t trying to be a hero. He wasn’t trying to save her life. He was doing the easiest thing in the world. It was the right thing to do. He was helping her. Wasn’t that what he always tried to do with everyone?
It’s what he tried to do with Angela Yin. But Spider-Man couldn’t save her. All because he kept forgetting to refill his web-shooters like normal people forget to set their alarm clocks. Peter only clasped Betty tighter, his arms wrapped downward at her waist.
Betty finally pushed him back, regaining her composure. “Peter…” She wiped her eyes and pulled at her blouse, straightening it. But she couldn’t keep the tears back. “I’m…sorry, Peter. I’m so sorry.”
“What?” Peter felt his face flush. “What are you talking about?”
“I…I left May.” Betty said, “I left, and I shouldn’t have. But I…I got a call from--from Leo, er--he’s one of my guys in the NYPD, and I went to meet him*.” Again, she was trying to avoid looking directly into Peter’s eyes. “He had a lead on something huge and…and we went out to Queens and…oh god, Peter,” She put her face in her hands. “He’s dead. Oh, god, Leo’s dead…I saw him less than two hours ago…”
(*-that would be in Max2000 issue 27 - multi-tasking Bryan)
Peter quickly hugged her again before she lost herself. He had no idea who Betty was talking about, but Peter obviously got the gist of what she was trying to say…her friend had been killed. Peter’s mind flashed back once more to Angela Yin.
Betty forced him back again. She said, “And I didn’t know what happened to you! Just watching the news with Randy, waiting for something, anything--do you know what that was like? I must’ve sent Kat dozens of texts after I left, asking if you were home. And then, I heard about Leo, and I still didn’t know where you were…I saw Spider-Man at the Bugle, but he was just so damn cryptic! I never get a straight answer out of him!”
Peter cringed at her words.
Betty relaxed and brightened for just a split second as she said, “But I’m so happy you’re okay.” Her hands found themselves hooked in Peter’s again. “If I’d lost you too tonight, I just…I mean--I’m sorry I left. Maybe if I hadn’t--”
“Betty.” Peter interrupted her. “It wasn’t your fault. Whatever happened to Leo was not your fault. You did what you thought was right. That’s all you ever do.” His chest felt heavy. “It’s why you’re one of the few people I completely trust with my daughter. I shouldn’t have made you worry like that.”
Betty, shockingly, laughed, wiping her cheeks as she did. “Parker, after all this time, I should know better than to worry about you.” She pulled Peter even closer to her now. She arched her chin toward his, and said, “You may not always be around, but you have a way of being there right when I need you.”
Betty kissed him. Peter couldn’t help but kiss her back. It felt like the easiest thing in the world to do. It felt like exactly the right thing to do.
Randy watched the sliver of light from under Peter’s door flick out. “Awww, maaan….I knew it!”
Mayday stirred a bit from the bundle on the couch next to him. Smoke the cat had curled up gently at her side. Randy kept his voice down this time, leaning over to say, “As soon as I saw them shut the door, I knew we three were gonna be spending some quality time together.”
May burped.
Randy chuckled, “Whoa, this conversation is getting a bit too intellectual for me.” He yawned, and stretched his arms, before spying Peter’s duffel bag, still sitting innocently in the middle of the floor. Randy shook his head, and stood up to grab the bag.
“You know, Pete,” Randy spoke in whisper toward the closed door, “sometimes, it’s a damn wonder how you manage to keep your identity a secret at all.”
He tucked the bag under the futon, and smiled to himself as he sat back down on the couch to turn on the television. He kept the volume low enough to the point that he hoped it would lull May safely to sleep. Smoke had already beat her to it. Randy felt his own body suddenly become heavier, so he put his feet up on the table, and closed his eyes.
Despite his earlier lesson about strange men and living room windows, Randy didn’t even notice the movement around Peter’s window, the shadow that dashed silently across the panes.
Ronin had watched the entire procession before his eyes. Now he knew there was nothing more to see. Before he left, he huffed, and shook his head. Then, gracefully, Ronin bounded from the rail of Peter’s balcony, dashing past the couple balconies above in much the same fashion.
NEXT ISSUE: This night may be over, but tomorrow night is a whole other story! Just what does J. Jonah Jameson want Peter Parker to do for him? And what kind of trouble has Eugene, err, Frogman, err, I mean, the Prowler gotten himself into this time? Plus, don’t miss the Amazing Spider-Man Annual 2009, featuring Doc Samson, and the identity of Ronin!