Am I Peter Parker?

Chapter 4: Your Tears

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Earth-65

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I found myself somehow out of the city. My cobwebs were no longer coming out and neither were my tears. Peter's death left me mentally unstable. I had lost my best friend, confidant, and the only person who understood what it meant to fight for others.

Every moment, guilt and pain consumed me. Peter had always been a beacon of hope and kindness, and without him, I felt adrift. I wandered the lonely streets of the suburbs, trying to find meaning in a world that seemed darker and more hostile without his presence.

At night, as I walked aimlessly, I found an old abandoned park. I sat on a rusty swing and let the weight of my sadness sink me. Memories of our childhoods together, times at school, his teachings in science, his encouraging words and silly jokes, flooded my mind.

"What would you do in my place, Peter?" I whispered into the wind, waiting in vain for an answer. I knew I couldn't go on like this. Peter would never have wanted me to give up. I needed to find a way to move on, to honor his legacy.

Suddenly, a noise behind me broke the silence. I stood up quickly, my senses still alert despite my emotional state. A man, hooded and with an athletic build, was slowly approaching. With a warning ringing in my head, I dodged the shot and rolled on the ground, landing in a defensive position. The hooded man advanced, his footsteps echoing in the empty park.

I quickly approached, tumbling and dodging all his shots. Finally, I disarmed him with a blow to the chest, sending his gun flying. The man staggered, surprised by my skill.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice steady despite the inner turmoil.

"Just a messenger," the man replied with a crooked smile. "There are those who are interested in you."

Before I could ask further, the man threw a smoke bomb, disappearing into the thick fog. I stood there, heart pounding, and realized that this was just the beginning. There were people who were willing to stand against me. But now, more than ever, I was determined to move forward.

"Peter had left a legacy, and I had a responsibility to honor it. I remembered his words: "I-I just wanted to be special like your Gwen." I couldn't let his sacrifice go in vain.

From that moment on, I dedicated myself to stopping suburban criminals while I made my way home. I found an old warehouse to rest in before returning by shooting my webs.

The screens of the neon city showed the images of Spider-Woman, accused of the attack on Midtown. The news given by J.J. Jameson resonated everywhere, sowing doubt and distrust in the minds of the citizens.

My movements became more careful; I knew that every action could be misinterpreted and used against me.

Jameson, with his authoritative voice and sensational tone, narrated the events in a way that made me seem like a threat.

"The dangerous vigilante, known as Spider-Woman, was seen at the scene of the attack! Is she the real culprit? Can we trust these so-called heroes?" His voice echoed through the streets, each word a blow to my reputation.

I felt a mix of frustration and sadness. Everything I had done so far seemed to be crumbling under a campaign of misinformation. But I couldn't let myself be defeated by lies and media manipulation. I knew that the truth always comes to light, and it was my duty to continue protecting the innocent, no matter the obstacles.

Returning to the streets, I heard a woman's cries for help in a dark alley. Without a second thought, I headed toward the sound, knowing it was my duty to intervene. Upon arriving, I saw two men attacking a young woman. My body moved on instinct, launching myself toward them and taking them down with a precision that only practice and pain could forge.

The young woman looked at me with gratitude and surprise. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"I am the one and only Spider-Woman," I replied, helping her to her feet. "And I will be here to protect you."

As I disappeared into the night, I felt stronger and more determined. Peter had started something great, and now it was my turn to continue his legacy. I was not alone; his spirit lived on in every act of bravery and compassion. With every person I saved, I honored his memory and moved forward into a future where his sacrifice would not be forgotten.

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I now find myself in the hospital, lost in my deepest thoughts. Had I somehow reincarnated into myself? Was I refusing to accept this new reality?....

No. The truth is that I just feel resigned for not being able to say goodbye to Aunt May and anyone from my world, now there are only more regrets on my list.

But my desire to return to my world does not go away, with the help of a superheroine like Spider-Woman I should be able to return to my reality if we contact a superhero like the Fantastic Four or the Avengers. With the phone lost because when I escaped the hospital gown is useless to store things.

With my memories already in order I take into account that the acts of the other Peter Parker could lead me to jail if they discover the lizard serum in my blood and the murder of Flash Thompson.

Now alone without Captain Stacy, with a firm resolution. I must find Spider-Woman and convince her to help me contact the heroes who can make my return possible.

But before taking any step, I need to leave this hospital again without raising suspicions. I realize that without the serum's abilities my body feels weak, this task has become much more complicated.

I take advantage of a round of nurses to sneak out of the room, carefully walking through the hallways, using every shadow and corner to avoid being seen. Eventually, I reach an emergency exit. I take a breath of fresh air as I step out into the back alley. The neon city seems vast and unfamiliar, but I must continue on.

However, as I take my first steps, my legs shake and I fall to the ground, drawing the attention of people on the street and a nurse passing near the emergency exit. The nurse, a middle-aged woman with a worried expression, rushes to me.

"Wait! Are you okay? Do you need help?" she asks, leaning toward me.

I struggle to get up, my legs still unsteady. "I'm... fine. I just need to... get out of here," I murmur, trying to maintain my composure.

"You can't just leave like that, you're totally pale," she insists. "You need medical attention. Come, I'll help you get back inside."

"No," I say, shaking my head determinedly. "I can't stay. There's something I need to do."

The nurse hesitates, her eyes filled with concern and curiosity. "At least let me help you get to safety. You can't just wander around in this state."

I accept her offer, allowing her to help me to my feet. With her support, we slowly walk down the alley until we reach a small convenience store. She sets me down on a bench outside the store and hands me a bottle of water.

"Take your time," she says softly. "If you need anything else, I'm here to help."

"Thank you," I reply, taking a sip of water. "I appreciate it."

As I rest on the bench, I watch people walk by, the everyday life of the neon city unfolding around me. The bright lights and vibrant sounds create a surreal atmosphere. My mind fills with thoughts of my mission and how I should proceed.

After a few minutes, the nurse takes her leave, leaving me with one last piece of advice. "Take care of yourself, and if you need to come back, the hospital is there for you."

With renewed strength, I stand up and start walking again. Each step is an effort, but I can't afford to fail now. I have to find Spider-Woman and enlist her help in contacting the heroes who might have the technology to return me to my world.

As I make my way through the streets, I ask passersby if they've seen or heard of Spider-Woman. Most look at me with distrust or indifference, but a young man, who seems to be a superhero aficionado, offers me a lead.

The boy's lead is of no use to me; the news says she has escaped the crime scene and left the city. With no option to find new information, I head back towards the hospital. Using fresh air as an excuse, I run into the same nurse, who looks at me with annoyance as she leads me back to the room.

Back in the room, I feel frustrated. It's not easy to come to terms with the feeling of being trapped, both physically and emotionally. Memories of Peter Parker, from my previous life, continue to haunt me. His teachings and sacrifice drive me forward, but they also constantly remind me of what I've lost.

I spend the next few hours of the day in the hospital, regaining strength and making plans in my mind. The nurse, despite her initial anger, begins to show a more understanding attitude.

"I can see you have something important on your mind," she says as she changes the bandages on my arm. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"It's complicated," I reply, hesitating about how much I should reveal.

"There are people who depend on me, and I'm trying to find a way to help them. I need to contact someone important to me, but it seems almost impossible from here."

The nurse nods slowly. "It's not uncommon for people to need help finding distant or missing relatives. If you really need to find them, there might be another way."

Her words light a spark of hope in me. "Is there another way besides the hospital system?" I ask, leaning toward her.

"There's a place in the hospital where they keep new, unused computers or old ones that some residents use to leave messages and clues for pranks. It's not safe, but you might find something there with the internet."

I thank the nurse for the information. With a new plan in mind, I decide I need to go to that hospital room once and for all. At night, when the lights go out and the hospital falls silent, I get out of bed and start to feel dizzy.

The news on the hospital TV shows the images of Spider-Woman, accused of the attack on Midtown. The news given by J.J. Jameson echoed everywhere, sowing doubt and distrust in the minds of the citizens.

My legs trembled from the intense dizziness as I headed towards the bathroom. In pain I continued to listen to the voice of the head of the Dayli Bugle, narrating the events in a way that made them seem like a threat to her.

"The dangerous vigilante, known as Spider-Woman, was seen at the scene of the attack! Is she the real culprit? Can we trust these supposed heroes?" His voice echoed off the walls of my room as I approached the bathroom.

Entering the bathroom, I head to the toilet immediately and end up vomiting blood. In horror, I notice that I have lost a tooth and, looking in the mirror, I see that my skin is beginning to fall apart. Fear takes over me as I try to understand what is happening. The feeling of falling apart is terrifying, and I wonder if it is a reaction to the lizard serum I have carried inside me.

I try to stay calm, but the pain and fear are overwhelming. I hold on to the sink, breathing deeply to keep from panicking. I need to find a solution, and fast. I wash my face with cold water, hoping that will ease the feeling of my skin melting, but it doesn't help much.

Suddenly, the bathroom door moves. It's the nurse. "Are you okay?" she asks, her voice filled with concern for my condition.

"No... nothing's wrong, just a dizziness," I reply in a small voice, looking at the tooth I've lost and the blood in the sink.

She steps away from the door seconds later, leaving me examining my face and the skin that is falling apart. "This isn't normal. I need to check the faulty IV immediately."

Without help, I stagger out of the bathroom. The door holds me firmly, carrying me out of the bathroom. Despite the pain and fear, I know I must rely on my knowledge to find a solution.

I am surprised to find that as I lie down on the bed my skin and tooth are regenerating rapidly. Is this the serum healing me? What will happen when the healing doesn't work? Will Dr. Connors be able to help me with this?

No... This appears to be an adverse reaction to an experimental serum. We need to stabilize it before it's too late. However, fatigue and my energy are draining.

As I heal, I feel my consciousness fading. The pain is unbearable and the uncertainty of what is happening to me consumes me.

I struggle to stay awake, knowing my life depends on these moments. The next few minutes are a blur of frantic activity and hurried voices. I feel needle pricks in my body remaking my flesh from scratch.

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As I swing through the city on my webs, screens of unmistakable colors reflect my shadow. Returning home, my worries for my father, not knowing where he was since Peter passed away, overwhelm me.

I haven't spoken to him since that event. Pulling out my phone and checking my messages, I find myself in shock. Tears well up in my eyes and I fall onto a nearby rooftop. The message said that Peter had miraculously gone into surgery and hours later had woken up.

The message I receive is like a bolt from the blue. Peter, he's still alive. I'm overwhelmed with a mix of emotions: relief, joy, but also confusion and worry. How could he have survived? Where has he been all this time? Why hasn't he contacted me?

Tears blur my eyes as the reality of the situation sinks in. For so long, I had thought Peter was dead, that I would never see him again. And now, suddenly, the possibility that he is alive and safe opens up.

I sit on the rooftop, trying to process this news. The city lights shine around me, but my mind is somewhere else. I have to find Peter, I have to make sure he's okay. Tears blur my eyes as I read and re-read the message over and over, as if to make sure I'm not dreaming. The news that my best friend, my confidant, is still alive is overwhelming and hopeful. But it also stirs up a whirlwind of emotions inside me.

I quickly dial Dad's number, my hands shaking with excitement. I wait anxiously as the phone rings, wondering what I'll say when he finally answers.

Finally, a familiar voice rings on the other end of the line. "Hello, kiddo?" he says, his tone full of surprise and concern.

"D-Dad, it's me," I say, fighting back the sob in my voice. "It's me, Gwen, how… how's Peter?"

There's a tense silence on the other end of the line, and I can hear his labored breathing as he processes my words.

"Peter," he finally murmurs, his voice shaking with emotion. "He's here recovering, doing very well. It's a long story, but he won't be able to see you until the doctor says so."

The words are like a balm to my wounded soul. Peter is alive, he's okay. A wave of relief and happiness washes over me, and tears flow freely down my cheeks as I listen to the voice on the other end of the line.

"I know, you must be distressed Gwen, but you have to wait a little while, daughter," he replies, his voice soft and comforting. "Now that he's okay we'll meet again, and that's what matters."

We talk for a few minutes, catching up on everything that's happened since we thought he died.

And as I listen to the call stop on the other end of the line, I know everything will be okay.

I slowly sit up on the roof, my thoughts racing. I have to see him, make sure he's okay. With a mix of adrenaline and excitement, I launch myself back into the void, swinging on my webs in the direction of the hospital. The buildings pass by me in a blur, but my mind is focused on one thing: getting to Peter.

The wind whips at my face as I move quickly forward, zigzagging between skyscrapers. The city that once seemed oppressive now feels like a race against time, every second counting. As I get closer to the hospital, my senses sharpen, and finally, I glimpse the building in the distance. I land in a nearby alley, my heart pounding.

I unhook my webs and slip through the shadows, finding a poorly guarded side entrance to change. I sneak inside, moving through the hospital hallways like a ghost. Antiseptic smells and the constant sound of medical monitors fill the air, but my focus is on one thing: Peter's room.

After what seems like ages, I finally arrive. My hand shakes as I cautiously open the door, and there he is, lying on the bed, surrounded by medical equipment.

His eyes are closed, but his breathing is steady and steady. I approach slowly, trying not to make a sound. I can't stop the tears from coming again, this time of relief and gratitude.

"Peter..." I whisper, coming up to his side. His face looks pale, but there's a calmness to it that comforts me. A nurse walks into the room and looks at me with understanding.

"He's been asking about you," she says quietly. "He's a fighter, that boy."

I nod, unable to find the right words. I sit down in a chair next to his bed, taking his hand gently. The tears fall silently, a torrent of relief and gratitude.

"Peter, I don't know how you made it," I say, my voice cracking with emotion. "But I'm so happy you're here."

We spend a few moments in silence, with only the sound of the monitors filling the room. Finally, Peter opens and closes his eyes without waking up. A weak smile appears on his face.

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As I become aware of the new day that greets me with its dawn, I find Mr. Stacy and Gwen asleep in the room.

The moment I yawn, Gwen launches herself at me in tears, hugging me tightly as she repeatedly murmurs "sorry" between sobs. I am taken aback by her reaction, not fully understanding what is happening.

"I have so much to talk about, Peter," she said, her voice shaking with emotion. "So much has happened since... since then."

Mr. Stacy, seeing the scene, stands up with a confused and worried expression.

"Gwen, what's going on?" Mr. Stacy asks, approaching us cautiously.

Gwen manages to get a few words out between sobs. "I thought I'd never see you again. I thought they took you away, like… like mom," she says, her voice breaking with emotion and fear.

I begin to understand. Gwen has been through some tough times, and my disappearance has affected her deeply. I feel guilty for not having noticed her suffering sooner. I hold her tenderly, trying to convey reassurance and support. Mr. Stacy looks at us with concern, but also relief that I'm back.

"I'm here, Gwen. Don't worry," I murmur, gently stroking her hair. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm fine. Please let me wipe your tears..."

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