It was all but a calm calm night in the streets of New York, nothing new, pretty lights sparkled through the tall skyscrapers windows. Why isn´t every night this nice? Spiderman fiddled while swinging through the tall buildings, you know doing the regular midnight patrols. He was really not up to this, to anything at least. It´s the third week without sleep. This month has been hectic since this new guy came to town Spidermans job has increased, 3 wierdos have been atacking random alleys, university has not been very sweet, homework gets harder and harder to finish, Mary Jane won´t stop texting, Aunt May caught the flu, he himself has had a sore throat and sleep everyday seems hours from his reach. Sleep was just something he couldn´t aford, or even dream of. Jeez, any more of this headache and me eyes will explode! A sharp stab of pain hit Spidys head. Sleepless and tired patrol was just too much for today. What to do... what to do... - he wondered while going over 6th street- Aja! A bench! Spidy swooped down but on his way he lost sight of a lamp post and his web stuck elsewhere and nearly sent him falling Splat! on the ground. He saved his skin by forcing himself to land on the tree next to his now beloved bench. The leaves made all sorts of noises, 3 or 4 branches broke beneath him. Ow... - he tried to stand from the large branch he was sitting on- ..Shit!...aw maaan. A nice sore twisted ancel. Perfect.. Sirenes cried not far away. Just perfect! Spidey grunted between teeth, what a swell night. Can´t see well cause the good old eyes can´t stand it, a twisted ancle and a massive headache, This is just my day.

But well, work was work no matter how bad of a mood he had or how tired he was his "job" couldn´t just be left unattended (even if he really wanted to his morality just didn´t let him skip off). Well, uuup we go! Peter stood, brushed off the dirt and sprinted towards the sirenes cry. This, is going to be a long, long, LONG night. But hey, maybe long enough to get some sleep maybe? The thought made him smile as he swooshed between buildings.

A glance at his reflection and for a second there really gave the creeps. Holy shit! He thought of swnging back to make sure what he saw wasn´t a mistake but, (sirens getting louder) there wasn´t any time for that. Jaja, funny.. For a moment there I thought I saw that Deadpo-whaterver guy in the building. Jajajaja maybe I am going mad! Peter said to himself outloud. Just across the corner ther it was, the cause of the sirens. He landed near a cop. What´s going on? The police turned not very surprised and said below his bushy mustache, ´Non much, just some kid that thought someone was in the house but naw, just some old pussy cat that slipped in the building.- let off a smug smile- No worrys, aaall taken care of Mister Spiderman. Peter looked at the apartment building and just as Mr. Big Mustache said, an old woman was outside saying sorry for the trouble "Mr. Buttermilk" had caused so late at night. He turned back to Mr. Mustacho who fixed both hands on his belt, Aaall in a nights work . He seemed quiet the happy fellow. Spidey smiled under the mask, gestured goodbye and swung back. Almost crashed into a bush but no one noticed... he hoped.

Sometimes he wished he had a policemans´radio to listen and not show up at mistakes like these, but sadly, he didn´t have one. And then it hit him, he could have used his spidy-sense to "feel up ahead" to make sure it was a real emergency. Too late now. His ancle was killing him, it stung, it REALLY stung. With every movement he did to impulse himself made it worse. But at least the pain kept Peter awake, and that, was very useful. The image of what he had seen while heading over to the so called "sirens distress call" has had him perplexed for quiet a while (a while, as in, the past few minutes). That Dead-whatever was quiet the wierd guy. He seemed to apear in the worst situations, usually in murder attemps and yes, he was the one attempting to murder someone. The few times they had met was a real pain in the ass. The guy was rude, loud, talked to himself, kept calling him "Spidey chick" or "Spidey baby" (which really pissed Peter off), he was waaay to agresive and the guy never seemed to take Peter seriously. I mean, I AM Spiderman after all. I catch bad guys, I have super powers, I´m cool aaand I´m a hero. So way won´t he take me seriuosly!? I guess he is quiet bigger (´cause I do look quiet limpy next to him), he loos older too, he´s full of weapons... BUT THAT´S NOT THE POINT- Petey fumed mentaly- I´M NOT A KID OR A DAMN PRINCESS FOR HIM TO TREAT ME LIKE I AM! Yelling mentaly really kept him from falling asleep. Spidey 2, Sleep 0! Ugh.. Peter finally listened to his mental self.. I DO sound like a little kid!... Stupid Deadpo-whatever! You make me think about you as if yoou where even worth the thought... Great, now , I sound like Mary Jene talking about her new boyfriend. Shit! Mary Jane! Peter landed over the roof of a small shop and clicked open his phone. Just as expected, 23 messages from Mary Jane and 8 missed calls not to mention the voice messages. He fliped through them.

Petey, hey, why won´t you answer?

Hey, i need 2 talk to someone, answer

Ok maybe you can´t

Well whatever, he did it again

Won´t you ask what HE did?

Un belevable! PETER ANSR ME!

JERK some friend you are

If it bothers you sooo much that i talk about him just say it!

Damn it peter! FINE i´ll go to Gwen instead!

God damn it Peter... (He stoped)

He couldn´t read anymore of this, MJ was pissed, very pissed and he knew he was going to get it once he called back. But, better late than never- he peeked at the hour- it´s 3 am., maybe I should head home and I´ll call in the moring...Yeah, I´ll worry about this later... tecnically it´s morning... Nah, later. He stood and winced as he shifted his twisted ancle carefully and jumped off with a single leg. It´s harder than he thought, barely enough impulse.

Damn was he tired. Everything seemed fuzzy, the lights all watery like and even the sound of night seemed to be heard from under water. This is bad. He swung once again trying to regain balance, nearly failed. Very bad. Swung too low and almost got slamed by a cargo truck. He quikly jumped, ran over the container and shot out a web and just hung from a building. Okay, very, very bad. - rubbed his eyes-Shoot... Feel like I´m gonna... Pass out? A stranger voice finished his sentence as he sunk slowly into the darkness, soft and quiet darkeness of sleep.