Disclaimer: I do not own any of the featured Marvel characters. They were created by a guy who got the rights before I did. Grr.

Spider-Man.

The name rings through the concrete canyon that is New York City, brining excitement and even fear to its citizens. Everyone knew Spider-Man. If you didn't you were considered insane. They knew all about his allies, his enemies and all about him. But the city's famous wall-crawler had not been seen for several days. This worried them, for there had been many reports of robberies and petty thefts that Spider-Man would have stopped in a heartbeat. Well, many heartbeats passed, and there was still no sign of him.

Where was Spider-Man?
Spider-Man was dealing with his own problems.

Spider-Man.

Peter Parker had looked in the mirror this morning, laughed at his face, and simply came to a realization. He was Spider-Man. How many people could say that? Only one--give or take a few imposters and clones, of course.

But there was only one true Spider-Man, and he was one-hundred-percent original. Not one like him, that was for sure. And, known for his wisecracks, many were thankful for that knowledge. Spider-Man rarely cared if people didn't appreciate his humor--but there were some he knew when to be serious around. Like Colonel Morgan, of SAFE, for instance. That last situation had not ended well.

Spider-Man enjoyed his wisecracks, it made him forget just how dangerous his job was and just how stupid he was for doing it. But as he swung high above the city on his webline, he knew that today was one of those days that he just loved what he did.

He completed his rounds about Union Square swiftly, finding no illegal actions, and headed to Midtown. He heard the people scream his name as he went by, and he grinned underneath his mask. Then he saw someone duck for cover. He still didn't care--nothing could ruin today. He just felt good about himself, and didn't feel any stress as he normally did.

Spider-Man landed in an alleyway for a quick breather and sat on top of a large crate. He took deep breaths, preparing himself for the high-speed web swing ahead of him. Aunt May was expecting him for dinner.

His thoughts were interrupted by a cloud of smoke, which scent stung his nose and made his eyes tear. At first he thought it was Mysterio and his dumb smoke effects again, but the aura around him told him no. He sighed. Madam Web. Wonderful.

"Hello, Spider-Man."

Spider-Man stood, facing the fog as he saw Madam Web sitting in her chair, a large black spider's web as her backdrop and a chair reserved just for him was before her small little table. Spider-Man looked at her, cocked his head, and decided to stay put. Madam Web, however, decided that this was not suitable, and lifted her hand. As she waved, a force pulled Spider-Man forward and directed him to his seat.

"Spider-Man." she greeted.

"Madam Web. What can I do for you? You haven't ruined my life recently."

"Oh, such talk. Spider-Man, lately you haven't been very busy, have you?"

Spider-Man pondered on this. She was right--the last person he'd fought had been the Chameleon, and that was three weeks ago.

"Yeah. I guess. But, come on, there doesn't need to be an end of the world every Tuesday. It's normal."

Madam Web fiddled with her infamous playing cards, which Spider-Man had grown to really despise. But she had helped him out on many occasions--though she always made things worse in the beginning of things.

"You're living a lie, Spider-Man. This world is not a safe place."

"I know, lady. Have you seen what I do?" He sighed, tapping the arm of the chair harshly with his fingers, trying to show that he was not in the mood for such a visit.

"Spider-Man, you must realize the extent of what you do. Do you even know?"

Spider-Man held his head. "Jeez, lady! You're already giving me a headache. You should come with asprin, you know that?" Spider-Man moaned. He was going to be late for dinner, he just knew it.

"Spider-Man," Madam Web breathed. "What you do changes everything. You must realize how serious this is."

"I do!" Spider-Man moaned. He hated when she talked in riddles like this. He stood up and brushed himself off. "Listen, Madam Web--I just really don't have time for this."

Madam Web raised her hand, and Spider-Man was pushed back down into his chair. "You're living in your own world, Spider-Man. It's time to enter another reality."

"What are you talking about? What other reality?" Spider-Man asked. He had not known Madam Web long, and he rarely wanted her help--especially when she went around the main point with her fancy words. As he thought this, Spider-Man got so tired of all the stuff she was saying. Spider-Man closed his eyes suddenly and forced himself to sit straight in his chair, but he kept slumping. Why was he so tired? He yawned and tried to keep his head up. What was...Madam Web!

"Hey...what are you...doing?" He asked, as the darkness lingering at the edges of his vision closed in and he collapsed on the ground. He remained silent for several hours, hidden in the back of an alleyway.