Peter Parker and Meredith Stacy (A Spider Man Story)

Part 2: Breaking News

Time flies like absolute cement as I check my cell for the time. A minute has passed since I last checked an hour ago, or so it seems. Sitting here with nothing to stare at but a cafeteria wall with chipped cream paint is excruciatingly dull. 

I jump at the click of someone's fingers in front of my face. Blinking, I look around at the lunch table while Cassie and M.J stare at me. "Hello? You've been staring at that phone for what seems like, I don't know, half an hour!" Cassie vociferates.

"Have I?" I ask almost sarcastically, just almost, while looking back down to the phone in my hand as if I had no bloody idea. The last text I sent Peter was 'what are you doing? We have a math test today, I thought you'd be here.' But what I was really saying was that I was worried. If he hasn't been at school for days, there is only one other thing he could be doing. And Peter doesn't get sick. Obviously.

"I'm just uh, waiting for a text." I explain to the questioning eyes that continue to stare my way. "Is there any news? Did you guys see anything on TV this afternoon? My dad was supposed to pick up my brother and I today but he said he had an emergency, and he never tells me what they are. I also need one of you guys to take us home, by the way. Is that alright?" The subject I attempt to change it to isn't utterly arbitrary, though. I truly am concerned about what is going on with my father, considering that it most likely has something to do with Spider-man. I neither got a text from him nor Peter today, and it is driving me absolute crazy.

Cassie speaks up. "Sure, I'll do it. And no, we haven't heard anything." She notices my foot tapping against the floor and I try to force myself to stop. "Is that what you've been worrying about this afternoon? Your father? Because he'll be fine, Meredith." She says.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. It's probably nothing."

I don't believe the words that came out of my mouth especially after I've come home to find that my father still isn't back. My mother is in the midst of cooking dinner and she tells me that he used to always have nights where he doesn't come home until late and I never used to worry about it as much as I do now. And it is true, I admit. But the difference now is that I have two people to worry about. Everyday for as long as I can remember my father has left every morning and he has put a badge on his chest and strapped a gun to his hip. And everyday for as long as I can remember I haven't known if he was going to make it home. And now, whenever my father is out, so is... Spider-man.

I lie across my bed with my laptop sitting atop my crossed legs, and every now and then my eyes shifts to the window to my left. I force my eyes back to the screen of my laptop and continue to write my essay for English, but the noise coming from my TV across the room keeps constantly distracting me so I decide on turning the volume down low. Just finish setting it on seven; a name comes out of the news reporter's mouth that catches my attention. My eyes widen at the sound of "Seems to be Spider-man" and putting my laptop aside, I run over to the TV and am already beginning to turn the volume higher. With my face nearly up against the Television screen, I stare at the woman holding the microphone. "Spider-man's suit must be non-flammable to be able to resist catching fire to that bomb! The NYPD is having immense trouble catching sight of both Spider-man and the one—whose name is still unknown—that blew up the street of 7th and Broadway. It seems to be someone in a vibrant green, metallic looking gear, which also appears to be hovering from a mechanical bat-shaped glider. This also appears to be the same cause of the bomb incident at a Festival last month."

I lose interest in the woman's voice as I watch the live video on the corner of the screen, showing only glimpses of Spider-man trying to reach the hovering, green figure that is in a crouched position in the air. I stare at the horribly terrifying yellow eyes and the teeth of his green mask, and before I know it, I'm already slipping on my black-laced boots and I'm running out the door. I hear my mother calling my name as I also shout that I will be right back.

...

I take my mothers car and even before reaching 7th avenue, I can already see the damage on the street and buildings. I stare in a trance at the blazing fire ahead. Running the rest of the way, I pass more NYPD cars and join the crowd of people that are being kept back from the stretched out arms of a few policemen. Plenty of firefighters are at the other side, trying to maintain the remains of the fire, and just as I catch sight of Spider-man, so does everybody else. Cheering and shouts of his name start to roar in my ears as I continue trying to get a better sight. 

"You can't get me, Spider-man!" The hoarse voice laughs maliciously and chills begin to run up my spine. I catch sight of the green figure rounding the corner and disappearing out of sight within half a second and Spider-man races to get to him before something shoots out of a man's gun and electrocutes through his body, causing his arm to lose his grip on his web. I hear someone scream, "No!" before I realize it's me. I finally catch the sight of my father in my peripheral vision as his head whips toward me, but my eyes are still locked on Spider-man as the policemen took advantage of his weakness and the sound of a gunshot echoes through the street. People around me gasp as Spider-man dodges the second electrocuting bullet and attempts to get to the wall of the building, but he's too late, it grazes his leg and Spider-man goes falling to the ground. Peter. I tear through the crowd and run straight pass the policemen, "Dad!" I scream.

"Meredith! Get back, now!" the anger in my father's eyes is so intense I can't help but stare back for a moment. A man in uniform takes my arms and holds me back from running to Spider-man who lies on the ground with the remains of an electric current running through him.

"He's on our side, can't you see that! He was trying to save us!" I cry out.

"He's a criminal, Meredith—"

"No, he's not! Listen to me!"

But my father is already handcuffing Spider-man's wrists as he sits with his head down. I watch in disbelief as my own father kneels beside him and reaches over to slowly pull his mask over his head, and as soon as the mask is pulled off, I see Peter's eyes open and he breaks apart the hand cuffs and four or five other men in black suits go charging after him with guns, but before they can do anything, Spider-man tosses them with the force of his webs, and knocks each of them out. Two others that were once holding my arms back have charged behind him but Spider-man is just too quick before their eyes, and they are already kicked and knocked out cold against their cars. 

"Freeze!"

My eyes go back to my father who has got himself a new gun and points it at Spider-man, whose back is facing my father. His face is shadowed in the darkness but everybody around us is either unconscious or too far to see what is going on. The only one that is in risk of seeing Peter's face unmasked is my father, "Put your hands behind your head!" my father shouts but Peter is already turning his head toward me, and then slowly he turns all the way around, revealing his face to my father. The point of my father's gun start to drop.

"Parker?" I hear my father say as his eyes go from mine and then back to his, recognizing him.

"Please," Peter slowly makes his way forward. I watch my fathers every move as he lets Peter pick up his mask. "The real enemy is out there! I don't know where he's heading, but I can stop him."

Peter looks back at me just once more, and then the mask is back on. "Please," Peter begs again, "Let me go."

My father nods solemnly and Spider-man is gone already, swinging across and around the nearest building. A few seconds pass as I watch my father speak into his speaker, "Bring backup at 7th avenue. Follow Spider-man." He walks over to me, "Meredith, you need to go home."

"No—"

"Now, Mere. You can't be here." He demands, cutting me off.

"Dad, you don't understand—"

"Yes, I do!" he shouts. "Your boyfriend is a man in many masks, you need to go home."

"Just make sure he's okay." I whisper.