All Tangled Up

Chapter 2

Captain Stacy left, and then I was alone, waiting patiently for a nurse to arrive. I was still wearing my webshooters. I limped to the end of my cell, wrapping my fingers around the metal bars. I gave one a faint tug, and it bent inward. I chuckled quietly. I could have easily broken free if I so desired.

But I didn't.

Instead, I fixed the bar, then plopped onto the police department's excuse of a bed. It creaked under my bodyweight, and the springs dug into my shoulderblades. I squirmed in the sheets for several minutes, just trying to get comfortable. Eventually, I did, then I closed my eyes.

I was aroused from my nap when I heard the clang of my cell doors. My nurse had arrived. Her scarlet hair was pulled back into a bun, only leaving a few wavy strands that fell into her face. She was not much older than me, probably a fresh college graduate. Her hands fumbled into her medical bag, trembling.

The nurse looked up at me with her frightened green eyes, and that's when I realized why she was frightened. She believed I was the villain. She thought I was going to hurt her.

Several police officers stood guard outside of the cell while we, the nurse and I, were inside. I wished it didn't have to be this way, with innocent people fearing me, and the police guarding the cell doors of someone innocent.

Was I really innocent?

I chastised myself for even asking that question. Of course I was innocent.

I fluttered back into reality when the nurse sat at my feet. Her delicate hands trailed my thigh, and I grew uncomfortable. It didn't hurt at the moment, and she was confused, noticing that I wasn't feeling any pain.

"I...I need to see it...I need to see it better," she mumbled. Of course. I had to pull my pants down. I was still wearing my Spider-Man suit. My jail clothes weren't supposed to arrive until the nurse was finished with me.

I lowered my spandex awkwardly, revealing my underwear. I stopped them just below my knees, then we both stared at my thigh, which was covered in dried blood.

"I would have come earlier, but you seemed to be doing okay. Captain Stacy said that your bleeding had stopped, so they took their time fetching me," she said quietly. She pulled supplies out of her bag, then began to clean off the dried blood.

This time, with all of the pressure, my leg did hurt. I stiffened, swallowing my cries. My eyes began to water, and I slammed the back of my head against the tile wall, giving a deep moan.

"I'm sorry. I...I have to do this," she said. I nodded, closing my eyes, attempting to ignore the pain pulsing through me.

Finally, after what felt like forever, my wound was clean. My nurse gave me a shot for the pain, then began removing the bullet. She told me not to watch her, but I did, anyway. She reached inside my wound with a metal tweezer-like object. My spider senses were going crazy, and I had to relax, ignoring them.

The nurse eventually managed to grasp the bullet. She pulled it out and dropped it in a plastic container. She sealed it, dropped the container into her bag, then reached for more supplies.

Next, she applied medicine to my wound, bandaging it up. She motioned to the police guards that she was finished, and then they brought in my jail clothes. I changed, with hardly any privacy, and then they took my Spider-Man suit away for the night. The nurse mumbled a salutation, then left with the guards. Then I was alone, sitting on the crappy bed, wearing bright orange, in a jail cell.

---

Aunt May was allowed a brief visit that night. She was in tears. My heart ached. Not only had I risked my life without her knowledge, but she was faced with the possibility that I was a criminal. Her boy, a criminal.

We had five minutes to talk. She was in a mixture of emotions, not sure what to think about the situation. For a moment, we just stared at each other. Finally, I spoke.

"I'm awfully sorry, Aunt May. It's not what it seems..."

"Is it? Peter, I don't know what to think anymore! You kept this from me! Are you even my boy anymore? What has happened to you?" She blurted out, then began to sob.

I reached through the cell bars separating us and placed a hand on her knee. She was sitting in a plastic chair, and a couple of guards were standing nearby, several feet away. They eyed me when they saw me touch her. Aunt May looked up.

"I am your boy. I kept this from you because I didn't know what to say. I didn't want you to worry," I explained. "I'm sorry. Now I know that that wasn't the brightest idea."

"No it wasn't. I can't believe that I'm talking to you in a place like this! You...in a jail? Peter, I want to know the truth." She wiped her eyes. "Whose side are you on? Are you really trying to protect people with the police, or are you trying to hurt them with all of those nasty criminals?"

"Believe it or not, I'm on the police's side," I said. "Even though...even though all of the odds seem to be against me at the moment."

Aunt May put her hand on top of mine, which I had never taken back. Her palms were warm and sweaty, but comforting. She looked at me, her eyes showing sympathy and understanding.

"I believe you," she said. I gave a nod, and then I heard the guards call that our time was up. Aunt May gave a wry smile and stood up, dropping my hand. "I love you, Peter."

"I love you, too, Aunt May," I replied. I watched her walk away, her greying brown hair, which was pulled back in a ponytail, swaying as she walked. One of the guards carried her chair. I continued to watch them until they turned the corner.

Once again, I was alone.