Hey guys! Sorry I've been gone for so long. Writing has been hard lately, but I managed to do this. I hope you enjoy it.

Btw, I no longer have any idea where this story is going. I had a plan, it was all written out, but I've gone way off track. So as much as you guys are crazy about wanting to know where this is going, I am feeling exactly the same way. I keep surprising myself with all the plot twists. Speaking of... here are a few more...

Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own any of this.

Peter's Journal

Entry Four

Forget what I said. This isn't bearable at all.

Zemo said something to me last night. It seemed normal, albeit a bit strange, at first, but I thought about it and now I think it means so much more.

Zemo was out doing who knows what and I was just sitting in the cell.

Our toilet started leaking and was making this super-annoying drip, drip, drip sound. I went to check it out, but it kind of sprayed on me- just as Zemo returned.

I was soaking wet and humiliated, fearing that Zemo would say something. Instead, he laughed and made a joke. I laughed too, mostly because I was scared he had gone insane, but as I lay in bed that night I started to worry a bit more.

What he said was this:

"Oh, The itsy-bitsy spider tried to fix the water spout

Down came the toilet-water

And washed the spider out"

Third Person POV

The room was lit only by a dull light, giving barely enough light to see. But someone did see. In fact, they saw far too much.

She had seen the person she was supposed to protect be dragged away.

She had seen the person she was supposed to protect go down an all too familiar path.

She had known how this would turn out, yet she did nothing.

So she decided to do something.

Aunt May hadn't moved in days, other than to write down the occasional note. These notes were written in a way that no one else could decipher. The letters twisted and the numbers shook, but they still meant something. These messed-up notes were the key to saving her nephew.

They were the key to getting him back.

Clint POV

I wiped sweat from my face as I sprinted down the street. My feat thundered across the ground, pounding on the cement. There were shouts and complaints as I tore through a crowd.

No one understood.

They didn't understand that time was of the essence. They didn't understand that I was going to a place that would be gone very soon.

I leapt over a railing, dashing onto a bus. I threw some change at the driver before plopping down into a seat.

As I caught my breath, I looked down again at Nat's note,

"Stane. Past. Aunt May. Bomb."

Third Person POV

The city was hot that day. Steam billowed up from below the streets, giving each avenue a dystopian feel. Sweat dripped down the faces of businessmen as they dashed to and from meetings of no importance.

One person, also sweating, dashed to a very important meeting. A meeting that he knew would change lives. As he ran, he looked down at a note. He jumped onto a bus, but only stayed on until the next stop. He ran down a few blocks, finally pausing below a building.

He smiled, knowing he made it.

But then the building blew up.

Myra POV

Things are looking up. My mole finally delivered some useful information.

Turns out that sewer rat, Peter Parker, is actually spider-man.

Makes sense, I guess.

Anyway, if I want Stark to suffer, I might as well take away another person close to him.

Someone he should have protected, someone he swore no harm would come upon.

So I blew up Spidey's aunt's house.