Return to Me 3 (Peter Parker/Spider-Man X Reader)

Part 12

You groaned as you began to wake up. Everything hurt. You could feel something sticky on the side of your head and raised your hands to touch it, but found that you were still in your handcuffs which were chained to cuffs around your ankles too. You were sitting in a surprising comfortable armchair in a large, beautifully furnished room. A fire was roaring in a fireplace to your right. Above it was a large walnut mantle sporting all sorts of beautiful pottery and crystal. A large walnut desk sat in front of you, neat and tidy. A box of cigars lay open on the desk, along with ornate crystal whisky glasses, a few papers in a neat stack, and a beautiful antique bank lamp. Large walnut shelves lined the walls with floor to ceiling windows looking out over the city sitting directly behind the desk. The shelves were filled with books, some old, some new, and different knick-knacks, all expensive looking. It was dark outside, so the lights of the city could be clearly seen. A large chair sat behind the desk and another armchair, identical to the one you sat in, was beside you. A large, solid wood door was closed behind you, with wall sconces on either side that matched the antique bank lamp. You looked out the window and for a moment admired the lights of the city, your city. Wherever you were, you were pretty high up. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard the door open behind you. You were so stiff that you couldn't turn your head enough to see who it was, and the room was fairly dark, so you waited for the person to approach. Someone undid the handcuffs and chains around your wrists and ankles, then left out the door. Your eyes followed a body as it came into your line of vision, your breath catching in your chest when you recognized your captor. Mario Romano took a seat in the large chair behind the desk, grabbing a cigar out of the box. You sat in silence as he clipped the cigar, lit it, and took a big puff. He blew out smoke and spoke.

"Hello Y/N. It's been a while. How are ya?" He asked, smiling wickedly at you. He continued to smoke the cigar, leaning back in his chair and studying you. You remained silent, so he spoke again. "Oh don't be shy. You and I go back a long time, don't we sweetheart? I owe you so much. You removed a huge rival off the streets, allowing my business and power to grow beyond my wildest imagination. Really I should be thankin' ya. I'm untouchable."

"No one is untouchable," you said, steel in your voice. You sneered at him, disgust showing on your face.

"Oh, the kitten grew claws, huh? Listen toots, I have half of the police force on my payroll, I have multiple lawyers and judges in my pocket, I have so much money it hurts. I mean, I found you, I framed you for murder, your moron cop buddies couldn't save you. Now I have you and guess what, I have a deal to make," he watched you, puffing on his cigar. He assumed your silence meant that you were listening. "You're a pretty, young thing. I wouldn't mind having you on my arm as a little eye candy. You can have anything your heart desires. I will treat you like royalty. What do ya say, sweetheart?" he said as he pulled an exquisite diamond necklace out of a drawer to his left.

"No, never. No amount of money or jewels or anything could even convince me to trust you. You are the scum of the earth, pure evil. My friends will come for me. Spider-Man will come, and he will be sure to bring you to justice," you said, finding courage you didn't know you possessed. Your hands were shaking with anger and fear, yet you believed with all your heart that Peter was coming.

"Fine," Mario responded, "then you have to die, rat." He got up, without speaking, and walked out the door, slamming it behind him. You exhaled a breath that you didn't know you were holding and looked out the windows. Tears stung your eyes as you looked out over the city, your city. You knew that Peter would come, but you weren't sure if he would make it in time. You took a deep breath, pushed through the intense headache and pain that you were feeling, and stood up.

"Alright, Y/N," you said out loud to yourself, "if this is it, then let's go down with a bang." You began to frantically search through anything you could find. You pulled open drawers, swung cabinet doors ajar, pulled out everything you could. "Bingo!" you said, pulling out some lighter fluid from a cabinet next to the fire place. You began spraying it everywhere. If the fire caught fast enough, it would alert authorities, maybe with enough time to catch Romano. You didn't have any other options and you knew that the next time someone walked through the door, you would die. You would light the fluid as soon as Romano came in. If all went according to plan, the fluid would catch so quickly it would block his exit. You emptied the bottle all throughout the room. You concentrated most of your efforts on the floors and walls, but even sprayed the desk and furniture. The blaze would hopefully go up fast and hot. You grabbed a cigar from the box, clipped it, and lit it in the fireplace. Then you sat down in the chair and waited for the man you hated to come back. If the authorities didn't arrive in time to catch him, at least he would die in a fiery blaze. There was no escape for him this time. You still had hope that Peter would come, but your hope was waning with each passing second. A moment later, your eyes slid shut as the door opened behind you. Mario returned and sat in the chair that he was occupying earlier. A knife flashed in his hand.

"I've learned enough with you, if you want something done right, ya gotta do it yourself. Any last words, rat?" He asked, an evil smile on his lips and a dark look in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Peter. I love you," you said and dropped the cigar hidden in your lap, lighting the fluid that soaked the room. Within seconds, the room was up in flames. The heat was so intense you dropped to your knees. Mario was screaming in pain. You had soaked his chair, so he was literally on fire. You knelt on the floor, a small circle of the room that hadn't been touched with the fluid, knowing your oxygen would run out in a matter of minutes, the heat feeling so intense it was indescribable. All you thought about was Peter. The tears that formed in your eyes were dried as soon as they spilled onto your cheeks from the heat of the flames. "I love you, Peter, I love you," you whispered one last time as you fell out of consciousness.