As the end of August neared, you began to fear the return of school. Not because you hated it-in fact, you were fond of school. You liked learning, you liked seeing your friends from certain classes, and you even missed some of your teachers. However, with the return of your school came the return of Spider-Man's school. He had explained to you how difficult it was to balance the responsibilities of his civilian life with the responsibilities of being a superhero. Between those tightropes of time management, you doubted there would be any hours allotted to visiting you.
You knew that you had no right to be sad about your predicament. The right thing to do would be to not think selfishly, and just be happy with the time you were given with someone who doesn't normally share their world. But, no matter how many times you had a talk with yourself, you still couldn't bring yourself out of your melancholy thoughts.
It didn't help that Spider-Man had already begun frequenting your fire escape less and less. Ever since the night he reached out to fix your hair, he hadn't shown up for your midnight talks at all. Granted, it had only been two weeks, and since there had been no strenuous fights or big explosions, you weren't particularly worried. You were, however, particularly lonely. You missed him. Sitting out on your fire escape alone was different than it had been before you had met the masked hero. Before, you were content with just you and a book, some soft music in the background with city sounds around you. Now, you felt isolated, and the quiet music and city sounds weren't nearly loud enough to ease the loss of Spider-Man's chatter.
Still, you tried to move on. You played music louder, you talked out loud to yourself, you doodled the skyline more, you hung out with friends more often, and you filled your time with things that had made you happy before. Today, for example, you were accompanying your friend Alex to the bank. While it was not the most exciting task in the world, it was the act of a responsible adult that wasn't hung up on a superhero, and therefore something that needed to be accomplished. Being a responsible adult also meant holding Alex back and not letting her attack the teller who needed to brush up on their customer service skills.
"I'm sorry, miss, could you please explain to me what exactly the problem is, again?" The teller said in a monotone voice.
Alex took a deep breath and calmly replied, "Whenever I use my debit card, it's taking the money from my savings account, instead of my chequing account. As you can imagine, that setup doesn't work for me."
"Are you sure you're pressing 'chequing' on debit machines, and not savings?" The teller asked, not even looking up from his computer screen.
"Am I-" Alex took another breath. "Yes. I am sure."
"Are you? Because there is nothing showing up on your account that explains how your savings and chequing could be switched. Maybe you're just mixing it up?" The teller still hadn't looked up from his computer screen, which was a poor choice on his part; if he had, he would have seen the warning signs that a teenage girl was about to tear him apart.
"Listen, you ignoramus-"
"Oh, boy," You sighed, gently grabbing your friends arm. "Alex-"
"-do you really think that I work a minimum wage job in retail to save up money for university, just so that my savings can slowly be drained without my knowledge? Do you really think I would want that? Do you? Why would I take the time each month to split up my earnings into a savings account just so that I could spend them?"
You had to hand it to the bank teller-even with a venomous teen ready to rip out his throat, he managed to look unfazed. You felt a little bad for him, but you guessed that's just what working in customer service does to a guy. Despite his nonchalance, everyone else in the bank from the mom in the corner with two kids to the man in the leather jacket by the door was staring at the scene you were unwillingly apart of.
"I'm very sorry, miss," The teller sighed. "What would you like me to do to help you?"
"What would I-" Alex's eyes widened, then narrowed dangerously. "I would like you to fix it, you-"
You knew that Alex had quite the mouth on her, and you were ready to step in and cut her off. Before you could, however, someone else cut her off for you. From behind you, a woman screamed, and you turned around to see the mother in the corner clutching her children closer to her as the man in the leather jacket pulled out a gun from his shoulder bag, which he dropped to the ground.
The gun was unlike anything you had ever seen before. It was definitely mechanical, but something about it didn't look right. It emitted a soft blue light, like there was something glowing, almost living, inside of it. Something that wasn't entirely human.
The man grabbed his bag and pulled out some sort of cube, which he stuck to the door. You heard the sound of not only the front door's mechanics locking, but also the windows around you. Instinctively, you grabbed Alex's hand and pulled her close to you, not even allowing the chance for her to be taken from you.
"Everyone, listen up!" The man yelled, lifting the gun into the air. "I have some business that I need to attend to, and a partner I need to do that business with. The only way I can get him here is by causing a scene and taking hostages, so I need you all to sit down on the ground." No one reacted for a moment, still shocked, and the man fired the gun into the air. A blast of blue light emerged, piercing through the high bank ceiling. Everyone screamed as rubble fell, and you instinctively covered your head. "Do you think I'm kidding? Ground! Now!"
You and Alex did as he said, dropping to the ground as quick as you could. There was no doubt in your mind that the person he wanted to show up was Spider-Man, but why? Who would rob a bank and want the hero to show up?
"Who here has a phone with access to wifi?" The man looked around, pointing his gun at everyone in the bank. "Raise your hands!"
With shaking arms, both you and Alex raised your hands, along with a twenty-something man by the counter and a bank teller who was crouching beside a desk.
"Good. Pull them out and send out a distress on social media. Twitter, or whatever, I don't care, just as long as people see it and know where I am." The man walked around, watching everyone do as he said. You could already hear the sirens get closer. "Make sure you say that I am armed, I have-" The man glanced around the room. "Hell, let's round up-thirty hostages, and for every half hour that Spidey doesn't show, I'm killing a civilian."
You typed what he said, quickly pressing tweet and turning your phone off. You wished you had Spider-Man's number, or some way of getting into contact with him. As much as you didn't want him here, you didn't doubt the armed man's actions, and neither did anyone else. The mother with two kids seemed to be choking back tears as she tried to keep her toddler and older child quiet.
Once everyone had finished, the armed man made everyone throw their phones into the center of the room, and then he went back to his bag and pulled out multiple metal cuffs. He tossed two to everyone in the room, instructing them to slip them on and tap them together. You did as he said, and once the two bangles touched, they tightened around your wrists and locked together, leaving you handcuffed.
There was no doubt in your mind now that this was alien tech, and you wondered how this man had come into possession of this much machinery. It was then that it hit you-this must have been the third weapons dealer from the Queensboro Bridge crash, the one whose body was never recovered. All the pieces fell into place: why he wanted an audience, why he had all these weapons, why he demanded Spider-Man show up. He didn't care about the bank or the money; he wanted a foolproof way to get the masked hero to come to him, so that he could get his revenge. He wanted to kill Spider-Man.
Your pulse quickened and you began to sweat more than you already were. You tried your best to shuffle over closer to Alex, who you could tell was also terrified. She was blinking her eyes a lot and biting her lip, eyeing the big gun their captor was holding. You reached over with your restrained hands and took her cuffed hands in yours, squeezing tight.
Through the glass doors and windows, you could see a crowd gathered outside. Police had put up barricades, there were numerous cars parked outside, with everyone screaming, crying, calling out for loved ones-literal chaos. Inside, the mood wasn't much better. All the phones in the center of the room had been buzzing and ringing for the last fifteen minutes, and everyone was tense. All eyes seemed to be on the clock above a desk to your right, which looked as if it was speeding up with every passing second. It had been twenty-two minutes since the armed man had announced his plan of killing a hostage every half hour, and you wondered if he was as aware of it as you all were. Presently, he was standing in the middle of the room, glancing around at everyone every few seconds, but mostly keeping a watch out for the masked hero. It was clear that he didn't think he would have to wait this long for Spider-Man to show up.
You didn't think you would have to wait this long, either. The Spider-Man you knew was always rushing into dangerous situations-much to your displeasure-and the one time you actually wanted him to run head on into an enemy's grasp, he decided to take his sweet time? You didn't want Spider-Man to get hurt, but you also knew that he was way better equipped to deal with this guy than anyone else in the room.
You sized up your fellow hostages, wondering who your captor would grab. Surely, he would leave the mother and her children. You hoped to God he would leave the mother and her children. And Alex. You couldn't bear the thought of losing your friend, much less watching her be executed right in front of you. With those four separated, you looked back at the remaining civilians, all twenty-four, not including you. There was a couple in the corner that you hadn't had a chance to look at before, two women holding hands like you and Alex. The taller one of the two moved her hands to her partner's stomach, and, as she kissed her forehead, you realized the partner was pregnant. You took them out of the equation.
Who else? The twenty-something man who had used his phone to send out a distress call. He was praying to himself in a corner. A group of three teenagers, all crouched together by a chair, huddled together like there was safety in numbers. Two businessmen leaning against the wall, each closing their eyes as if they could imagine they were somewhere else. A woman sitting on her knees, fiddling with her engagement ring as much as her cuffs allowed her. A gray-haired woman tugging on the cross around her neck as her husband leaned against her arm. A teen boy in the corner, twisting his fingers together over and over. Two girls in NYU sweatshirts, student loan brochures still clutched tightly in their hands. Three women in pantsuits, their lunchtime coffees dropped onto the floor beside them. The four bank tellers and their three branch managers, sitting in a group behind the counter, all with shiny, wet cheeks. As you looked around the room, one of the tellers caught your eye, and you looked away with shame.
No one here deserved to die. You felt your face flush and bile rise in your throat, disgusted that you had even entertained the thought that you could figure out who should be the first to go. Tears began filling your eyes, blurring your vision, and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing the tears to go away.
"Damn," The armed man sighed. You opened your eyes to see him staring at the clock. "I really thought Spidey would show. Oh, well. Guess he's not so super after all."
The armed man looked around at his hostages, taking stock. "Didn't want it to come to this, really, but if I don't go through with my promise, then I'll never get him to show up. Apologies."
He continued pacing the room, looking from face to face. Finally, he stopped in front of you. But it wasn't you.
With a sigh, he grabbed Alex roughly by the arm and pulled her away from you. You screamed loudly, and she yelled your name back to you, tears falling freely from the both of you. Trying to save your friend, you grabbed at the man's arm, but he hit you in the head with the gun. Instantly, red hot pain flashed across the right side of your forehead, and you knew the skin had split open.
"Y/N!" Alex screamed, trying to crawl back to where you had fallen back to the ground. But the man kept his hold on her.
"Please," Alex pleaded with the armed man, but he showed no mercy. He pushed her down into the center of the room and pointed the gun at her head.
You stared in horror, your head throbbing. You could feel the blood running down the side of your face, and you tried to wipe it off with your hands. The room was spinning and you could barely focus on anything, but you tried to make eye contact with Alex. It was the only thing you could do.
"Sorry, kid, I am," The armed man shrugged. "Really thought Spidey would've shown up by now."
Suddenly, the sound of shattering glass filled the bank, and you felt shards of what you assumed was once a window raining down around you. The hostages screamed, and you felt the thump of the ground as someone jumped through the hole. Turning your head, you saw Spider-Man, the Spider-Man, your Spider-man, crouched on the ground to your left. Looking up, you could see one of the skylights in the ceiling broken, the remnant of a web drifting in the breeze that blew through.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," Spider-Man stood up. "Traffic was horrible, and the Bridge is still out of commission."
The armed man growled and pushed Alex away. She crawled over to your and you grabbed her with your cuffed hands, pulling her closer. Frantically, she untied the shirt knotted around her waist as best she could handcuffed, and shimmied it off, before grabbing it and pressing it to your head wound.
You felt so woozy, but you tried your best to keep your eyes open. You couldn't imagine actually watching Spider-Man fight the bad guy, but you couldn't imagine not watching it, either.
The armed man shot first, but Spider-Man dodged his blast. Instead, it hit the wall to your right, narrowly avoiding the group of bank employees. A whole about three feet wide and four feet tall was left in result, and Spider-Man noticed.
"Everyone, out!" He shouted, continuing to dodge blasts from the gun. He swung around, shooting webs at the armed man, trying to disable him. "Everybody-"
It was at that moment that the two of you made eye contact. You, lying on the ground, struggling to stay conscious as Alex tried to stop your wound from bleeding.
"Y/N?" You heard Spider-Man yell. He stopped moving and stared at you uncomprehendingly, until he narrowly missed being hit by a blast from the armed man's gun. It hit the ceiling, and another blast hit the wall. Rubble began to rain down on you.
The hostages began running for the hole in the wall, crawling out. You tried to get up but it quickly became apparent that moving was impossible, as you felt more and more light headed with every passing second. Alex smoothed your hair.
"Y/N," She whispered. "Y/N, I can't carry you, I'm not strong enough."
"Go," You whispered back, weakly pushing her away. "Please, Alex, go."
"I'm not leaving you!" Alex said determinedly, looking around for a way to get you off the ground.
There was none, and more rubble was falling from the ceiling as more blasts missed Spider-Man. It was becoming apparent that the building was on the verge of collapse. Through the holes in the walls, you could see the crowds evacuating, ambulances and cop cars being the only vehicles around the area.
You heard a growl, and turned back to the fight around you. Spider-Man had aimed a web over the barrel of the gun, succeeding in blocking it. With his borrowed time, he raced over to you and Alex.
"Go," He told Alex, pointing towards the exit. "Go, I'll get her."
Alex nodded, moving quickly to the hole, glancing back at you as she did so.
Spider-Man scooped you up into his arms and ran you outside as fast as he could, leaving you at the first ambulance he found.
"I'm sorry," He muttered the entire time he carried you. "I'm so sorry, Y/N, oh my god..."
As he laid you down on the gurney an EMT had waiting for you, you tried to grab his suit.
"Please don't go back in there," You pleaded, your eyes beginning to flutter shut.
"If I don't, he'll come out here," Spider-Man turned back towards the building. "I have to go. I'm sorry."
With those words as his goodbye, the masked hero ran back inside. Less than ten seconds later, there was a scream, a blast of light, and the sound of more glass breaking. You watched, helpless, as the building began to crumble. Your EMT wheeled your gurney into the back of the ambulance, with the intent of getting everyone away from the crashing building as quick as possible.
Before the doors closed, before your eyes shut, the last thing you saw was a flash of red amidst the collapsing grey concrete.
