Chapter Two guys, don't forget to review!


Martha Thatcher had not opened her eyes for seven months. In the room there was only the sound of her monitored heartbeat, and endless sound that sometimes seemed worse than her death. It was a mockery, someone laughing in spite. Her heart beat strongly in her chest, every wound and broken bone had healed, yet she wasn't even able to open her eyes.

But she remained beautiful with her golden hair and pale skin. Neutral pink lips frozen in place, eyelashes forever long and shadowing her cheekbones. She had a scar above her right eyebrow, only faint but still there. Her nails were long, soon needing to be clipped. Due to lack of activity, they were clean, not a speck of dirt in sight. The nurses of the hospital kept her angelic face perfect, her golden hair shining, and her scent still hers. Since they could do nothing else for her, the least they could do was make her look alive.

Maybe it was safer that way. Sometimes Peter Parker wished he was in a coma, too. Knowing that he had failed the entire Thatcher family was enough to make his heart become dead weight.

First it was Mark and Ashley Thatcher, killed in a senseless shooting, yet Peter had been more bothered about finding his own uncle's murderer to bother about anyone else.

Then he'd failed Martha, who had been trapped in a car during a freak accident just over seven months ago. He hadn't been there to save her, either. During the horror of the crash, Peter had taken off after the monster that was Max Dillon, the man who had caused the crash. The man, who had been lonely, caught in a mystery incident that turned his entire body into electricity, and who had had an obsession with Peter's alter ego.

And then there was Claudia. He would never forget seeing her for the last time, hunched over as she clutched a bleeding wound on her middle left side. He also remembered the blood reddening her full lips while her ocean blue eyes shone dark with pain. She'd fallen to her knees, gagging on her blood and shaking with the agony of a gunshot.

He remembered thinking, how did I let this happen to you?

And then Harry Osborn arrived, twisted and insane, on his god forsaken glider. It was when he arrived that Peter's life was truly ripped apart. Harry, once his best friend, perhaps even his non-biological brother, had ruined his life. He'd taken away his best friend, Gwen Stacy, and thrown her from a clock tower. He did it to punish Peter, simply because he refused to give the boy his blood. He did it out of spite.

Peter felt empty when he remembered trying to save Gwen. It was the ugly truth, however, that it was Peter himself who had killed her. He'd tried to save her, and instead ripped her fragile body apart with his web. The force of the fall and the strength of his web had broken her back. Her head had hit the ground, and if his web hadn't have killed her, that blow would have.

And during the nightmare of that night, he'd lost two people he cared about the most.

The only thing he could do right now was wait for that last Thatcher to wake up.

He told her everything. After all, it was said that people in comas could still hear everything around them. He told her about who he was, what he had felt for Claudia, why he had gotten involved in their lives in the first place. He told her about the first night he had ever encountered Martha's baby sister, a cold night so long ago. She'd tried to kill herself. The guilt of their parents' deaths had torn her apart and broken her up, yet it hadn't even been her fault. Peter should have been the one to save them.

So Peter told Martha that, while trying to make amends by making Claudia forgive herself, he had fallen in love with her. He'd fallen for her ferocity, her passion and her strength. He'd fallen for her sharp tongue and her quick wit. In a way, the tragedy had changed into someone beyond fixing, yet was stronger than anybody else he knew. Most people would have crumbled, yet both Martha and Claudia remained strong. Peter respected that more than anything.

He recited everything; meeting Claudia, learning about her violent relationship with Martha's ex, Rick Hammond, going through Hammond's downfall and so on. He told Martha about his break up with Claudia and the agony of it, though he was only trying to protect the both of them. He told her about Harry Osborn, his best friend, who had betrayed everyone. He told her about the night he lost both Claudia and Gwen.

He told her about how he was tempted to end his own life the same way Claudia had when she was sixteen.

He told her this simply because he was convinced Martha would never wake up.

After all, the only people that could listen to him now were those who were dead.


Connor Young knew of Peter's grief. He'd watched it weigh him down for a while now. Once bright, his eyes shining with hope and a smile of a boy living a good life was now on death's wish list. Love did that to people. It ruined them.

Peter Parker visited Martha three to four times a week. He would do the same thing on each visit; walk in, sit in the visitors chair on the right side of the bed, and take the young woman's small, pale hand in his and squeeze it. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it was to get some kind of response, or to reassure himself that maybe one day she would wake up.

Connor wasn't sure himself. He was amazed that the woman had survived that damn crash. Granted he had wanted her to survive, but that didn't make him any less surprised. He had been against the workings of Oscorp, knowing what they truly represented. They were nothing more than monsters who experimented on people. And when he had that the famous sisters were wrapped up in such an environment, he found himself wanting to intervene.

Connor was nothing special. Before this he was nothing more than a barman, his only talent being able to mix together a wide range of cocktails. And he was also a doorman. Quick on his feet and always fixated on one aim, he could floor a drunk in a matter of two seconds.

That's how he wound up being an Oscorp member of security. With fighting skills and a focussed mind, the company wasn't bothered about anything else. Connor didn't need to know anything or do anything, aside from stand outside a door and drive members of the company from A to B. Sometimes he was even made to keep an eye of the security cameras, but what he saw now and then made him sick to his stomach.

He'd seen spies get beaten by men twice their size, locked away in isolation for days at a time until they swore on their own families' lives that they would keep quiet. Of course Connor had taken some kind of oath and signed a contract to keep the same kind of silence.

For eight months Connor watched these events unfold and remained vigilant. It wasn't until Martha and Claudia were involved that he had seen enough. He'd watched them both get beaten, thrown around a room like rags, threatened all while they had been taken from their own home. Claudia had barely reached eighteen and Martha just turned twenty four. It wasn't fair. They'd been through enough.

Yet Connor hadn't been able to save both of them. Claudia was still gone, lost to everyone. Dead or alive she had been failed. At least it was a fact that Martha's heart was still beating. Claudia was now just an unknown entity; even the police had given up trying to find her and presumed her dead after Connor's statement that she had been shot by a man who had since been identified and arrested.

Yet, Martha Thatcher was dead, too. To protect her from Oscorp, Connor had changed her name to Amelia Turner. He'd kept her life a secret for five months before telling the Parker boy of her whereabouts, for the risk of Oscorp hearing about her survival could lead to a very sudden but suspicious death. Connor himself had made sure he vanished off the radar and never travelled far from the hospital in which Martha was situated. Whenever Peter wasn't there, Connor was. As far as he was concerned, Martha was under his protection since he couldn't save her sister.

He wasn't alone, of course. Many people were against Oscorp and were on the inside feeding out information. Such a corporation was bound to bring its own inside enemies; hell, Gwen Stacy was suspicious prior to her death and began searching the files for something she wasn't even sure about. There were a handful of mice in a cage full of rats, each one discovering something new and significant, something closer to bringing down Oscorp. And there was other victims being protected, from singletons to entire families. Even Dr Curt Connors' family were being protected, his wife and son shielded away from Oscorp's grip. Dr Connors had known his mistake and wouldn't want his family to follow the same path and move into the company's shadow.

And Peter Parker, unknown to him, was also under Connor's surveillance. He was a victim, someone being traced all the time, and had to be secured. Gwen had also been under his watch, but was also another soul he had failed.

There was one more victim, a boy whom had succeeded the late Norman Osborn. He was a boy suspected of wrong doings by his own company, but only hell knew where he had vanished to. Connor had a blood curdling feeling about the young Harry Osborn, and chose to let him do what he pleased when he had taken over Oscorp's higher members of staff with Max Dillon.

But there was no point in dwelling. Martha and Peter were still alive and they were all that mattered.

This day was a new day, and step closer to Martha's possible wakening. Peter was there today, gripping her hand like he always did, whispering to her while his eyes remained closed and his body stiff. A small TV in the corner of the room was playing the news on mute, like it always did, on the off chance that there was any fresh news relating to Claudia. It felt like yet another glum, hopeless day.

"Good evening, Peter." Connor said politely as he closed the door behind him. Peter grunted in response. Peter never really took any notice of Connor. The only reason he allowed him into Martha's room was because he had been the one to pull her out of the wreckage. Other than that Connor was nothing to the teenager.

"No chance?" Connor asked.

"None," Peter sighed. "Not even a twitch."

"She's alive, though."

"For what purpose? Just to lie here and rot away in her sleep?" Peter scoffed. "Claudia would hate this."

"Claudia's not here, she doesn't know and probably never will know."

"I hate it when you speak of her as if she's dead." Peter spat, clearly annoyed. "She's not dead."

Connor glared back at the boy, finding his ignorance frustrating. "Then where is she?"

Peter didn't say anything and closed his eyes again.

Connor moved towards Martha's bed, peering down at her face. She truly was beautiful. She was look even more beautiful if her eyes would just open to reveal those magnificent blue orbs that mimicked her sister's. He'd admired her beauty from the minute he'd seen her face on the news so long ago, when she and Claudia were being recognised for their bravery during their parents' deaths and Rick's abuse. How could he not? She was stunning.

Carefully, he brushed away a stray strand of yellow hair from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. It saddened him. When he had first encountered her she had been fierce and untrusting, and rightfully so, but now she couldn't look any more innocent. Hopelessly lost in a black abyss behind her lids. Somewhere in her mind she was locked away, screaming at herself to wake up. Though he didn't even know her, he imagined that her first demand would be to search for her little sister. This thought was just as upsetting as her innocence.

For no reason at all, simply wanting a distraction, Connor looked up at the TV. If his heart could stop from shock it probably would have. Instead it sped up, beating frantically in his chest. Excitement and fear froze him in place, and a curse fell from his lips before he whispered Peter's name.

The boy looked up, stared, and then bolted up as a sob fell from his throat.

MISSING GIRL FOUND IN TIMES SQUARE. CLAUDIA THATCHER HAS BEEN FOUND AND IDENTIFIED.

But it wasn't Claudia. It was someone else that just looked very much like her. Someone, a low life who thrived on grabbing the most horrifying videos for the news, had spotted her and felt the need to film her rather than help her.

Claudia was skinny, too skinny, with red wrists and ankles and protected by nothing but a flimsy white gown that was filthy. Her black hair was cut short, no longer at the small of her back but falling just past her chin. She was coated in cuts and bruises, her hands red with blood, her eyes black with bruises and lips cut viciously and deep.

She was on all fours, looking at nothing, not seeming to take anything in. People rushed to her aid, wanting to help, and soon she vanished from view and the video ended, replaced by a reporter.

It was being stated that she had been taken to a private hospital and was in critical condition. Connor wasn't listening anymore, too focussed on the boy who had fallen to his knees and was weeping like a child. Was it grief or joy? He couldn't tell.

But that wasn't who Claudia used to be before she went missing. For a start, she had blue eyes, not green. Secondly, they certainly did not glow like a cat's before her disappearance. Something was terribly wrong, but Connor was in too much shock to process exactly why. Instead he listening to Peter whispered the same name over and over, but it wasn't his lost love's name.

"Harry's alive, Harry's alive, Harry's aliveā€¦"

"What are you talking about?" Connor whispered.

Peter stopped and went silent before peering up through red, blotchy eyes that glistened with tears.

"Her eyes weren't hers," the boy croaked. "And the only other time I've seen them glow like that was when Harry Osborn attacked Gwen." He swallowed, trying to compose himself. "He went missing the same night Claudia did."

They remained silent for a moment before Peter began to make his way unsteadily to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Where the hell do you think?" he snapped angrily before slamming the door behind him.

Connor stood, amazed. He looked at Martha, who remained as still as before.

Now is the time to wake up, darling, he thought, before he took off after Peter.


Sorry for any mistakes guys :)