first entrance.
2014-Aug-23, Saturday 10:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
spideysIt's difficult, painful work getting his shirt over his head without wincing from the bruises that blossom impressive shades of purple and red across his back and his chest. It hurts too much to remove his Spidey suit anyway, so he keeps it on, aware of the burns and tears that will have to be mended later.
Peter Parker had cut it very close in his fight against The Lizard, but he'd done it. The antidote to the Lizard's serum had been administered to the greater area of Manhattan without a second to spare, and Connors as well as half of the NYPD sent out to stop him had soon been shed of scales, tail, teeth and all. But if it weren't for Captain Stacy -
He swallows, squeezing his eyes shut - focus, Parker. You didn't do it. You weren't responsible for what happened to him ...
(And yet, wasn't he?) - for the briefest of moments, before he focuses on the task at hand: getting home. Aunt May will worry if he's even another minute late.
"Eggs," he says suddenly to himself, the very thought of something so mundane nearly making him laugh aloud, delirious. Aunt May had asked for eggs. Organic ones, for tomorrow's breakfast.
It's late and the sirens are louder than ever, ringing in his ears to the beat of his pounding heart; the police will be here if they haven't arrived already. They'll wonder about Captain Stacy, they'll find his body, they'll (undoubtedly) blame him, and whyshouldn't wouldn't they? Spider-Man should have been able to take on the Lizard alone. But he couldn't do it. He wasn't strong enough on his own, and he didn't want to kill Doc Connors, no matter what transpired. There was still a man somewhere underneath all of that reptile. But because of Peter, because it was his formula that did it, another man is dead. A good man, and the only one besides his daughter to know his secret.
So, with a fair amount of reluctance, he pulls his mask back on and leaves Gwen's dad on the top of Oscorp Tower.
He doesn't know how he gets down to street level again, his web cartridges empty, but he does. The mask over his face suddenly feels hot, like he might suffocate if he wears it any longer, so Peter - now dressed like a civilian, save for the mask - pulls it off and stuffs it into his backpack with his empty wristlets and gloves. He finds eggs at the nearest convenience store, hops on the last train home, and keeps to himself. No one so much as blinks an eye at him, even with the cuts on his face and the bruises on his knuckles.
It could be any ordinary night, even if it's really anything but.
And just as he's hobbling up his side-street, watchful for the familiar lights and the shadowy movement of his Aunt behind the curtain in the living room, he feels the subtlest of shifts in the air around him -
- and blinks at the dramatic change in his environment.
His Spidey-sense is tingling like mad, an irritable sensation in the back of his mind that makes him twitch once, twice against his will.
He narrows his eyes and licks his lips. They're cracked and they're bleeding and they hurt, but that's kind of the last of his concerns.
Peter Parker had cut it very close in his fight against The Lizard, but he'd done it. The antidote to the Lizard's serum had been administered to the greater area of Manhattan without a second to spare, and Connors as well as half of the NYPD sent out to stop him had soon been shed of scales, tail, teeth and all. But if it weren't for Captain Stacy -
He swallows, squeezing his eyes shut - focus, Parker. You didn't do it. You weren't responsible for what happened to him ...
(And yet, wasn't he?) - for the briefest of moments, before he focuses on the task at hand: getting home. Aunt May will worry if he's even another minute late.
"Eggs," he says suddenly to himself, the very thought of something so mundane nearly making him laugh aloud, delirious. Aunt May had asked for eggs. Organic ones, for tomorrow's breakfast.
It's late and the sirens are louder than ever, ringing in his ears to the beat of his pounding heart; the police will be here if they haven't arrived already. They'll wonder about Captain Stacy, they'll find his body, they'll (undoubtedly) blame him, and why
So, with a fair amount of reluctance, he pulls his mask back on and leaves Gwen's dad on the top of Oscorp Tower.
He doesn't know how he gets down to street level again, his web cartridges empty, but he does. The mask over his face suddenly feels hot, like he might suffocate if he wears it any longer, so Peter - now dressed like a civilian, save for the mask - pulls it off and stuffs it into his backpack with his empty wristlets and gloves. He finds eggs at the nearest convenience store, hops on the last train home, and keeps to himself. No one so much as blinks an eye at him, even with the cuts on his face and the bruises on his knuckles.
It could be any ordinary night, even if it's really anything but.
And just as he's hobbling up his side-street, watchful for the familiar lights and the shadowy movement of his Aunt behind the curtain in the living room, he feels the subtlest of shifts in the air around him -
- and blinks at the dramatic change in his environment.
His Spidey-sense is tingling like mad, an irritable sensation in the back of his mind that makes him twitch once, twice against his will.
He narrows his eyes and licks his lips. They're cracked and they're bleeding and they hurt, but that's kind of the last of his concerns.