Touching Lives fanfic -- contains Spidey 2 spoilers

[EmilyH]

Touching Lives

By Emily M. Hanson

Disclaimer: Spider-man and other recognizable characters are owned by Marvel comics. John was the name I gave to the guy on the subway train in the movie who thought he looked young. This is a post Spider-man 2 story and contains spoilers.

* * * * *

Peter Parker was enjoying a nice lunch at a sidewalk café in downtown New York. It was a nice summer day. He’d been assigned to take pictures at a science expo being held in the convention center across the street. He’d gotten plenty of good shots, but he knew that J. Jonah Jameson, the Daily Bugle’s owner, and most of the paper’s readers really didn’t give a rat’s furry behind about the science. Still, it was a paying job.

It had been three months since he’d battled Otto Octavius, a.k.a. Doctor Octopus, who had been controlled by the robotic arms that had been fused to his body in an accident involving a highly advanced fusion reactor. Octavius had eventually regained control of the arms, but he died sacrificing himself to save the city to bring the equivalent of a nuclear bomb under control. Octavius had drowned himself – and the fusion reactor – in the river, but he’d found out about Peter’s secret identity during their fight.

Mary Jane Watson had also learned his secret. So had Harry Osborne, and about two dozen people on a runaway subway train that Doc Ock had set loose. Peter occasionally wondered whether any of them had figured out his name. It wasn’t as if he was anonymous, either.

Since dating MJ, he’d been thrust into the limelight involuntarily. She was an up and coming young, beautiful actress and model, so it was inevitable that Peter was sometimes photographed with her. The gossip columnists and tabloid journalists loved to write about Mary Jane and her boyfriend, especially since he was such a nerd and completely the opposite of John Jameson, MJ’s ex-fiancé. Or so they thought. Little did they know that Peter Parker was really Spider-man.

He chewed on his ham and Swiss sandwich, taking in the sights and sounds around him. New York was generally very busy at lunch hour. But then, it was busy most of the time anyway. There were lots of shoppers and business people eating lunch as well. He saw no one he knew, though.

As he took a swig of soda pop, Peter heard someone approaching.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken? I’m sorry to bother you, but there doesn’t appear to be anywhere else to sit.”

The questioner was a middle-aged man in a charcoal gray business suit and off-white shirt. He looked vaguely familiar, but Peter couldn’t quite place him.

“No problem.”

“Thanks,” the man said. He glanced up at Peter as he sat down. Then his eyes widened in recognition. “You!”

Peter blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

“You’re him! Sorry, it’s just that I never thought I’d see you again. At least, not like this.” The man looked stunned.

Suddenly, Peter remembered where he’d seen the guy before. He had been on the runaway train. He’d seen Spider-man without the mask. As Peter’s jaw dropped, he nearly knocked over his bottle of soda pop. It tipped precariously close to the edge of the table, but luckily, he had excellent reflexes and caught it in time.

“You recognized me?” he asked in astonishment.

“If someone saved your life,” the man responded in almost a whisper, “wouldn’t you recognize them?”

Peter stared for a moment and then nodded. “Good point. Guess this means I have to work on the secret identity thing, huh? Maybe I should get one of those funny pairs of glasses with the nose and a fake mustache.”

The man chuckled. “Have you tried glasses?”

He nodded. “I used to have to wear them, but now, everything goes blurry when I try them on. I see better now than ever,” Peter explained.

“Ah.”

“So, uh, I assume you have a name?”

“John Anderson. I’m a lawyer.”

Peter laughed. “That’s great. If ever need one, I can call you.”

John looked at him for a moment and then nodded. “I suppose you have a name, too?”

“No, I usually just go by ‘hey you,’” he quipped.

The lawyer grinned. “Don’t want to tell me, huh? I understand.”

He took a deep breath. “It’s Peter.”

John nodded. “Funny, I’d have pegged you as a Ben. That’s my son’s name. He’s about your age. Looks a bit like you, too.”

Peter just about choked on his soda pop as Uncle Ben’s image came to him in a heartbeat. He remembered holding his uncle’s hand as he died. Peter still blamed himself for Uncle Ben’s death. If he had stopped the thief, his uncle would still be alive.

“I’m sorry, was it something I said?” the lawyer asked.

“It’s just that I lost someone very close to me named Ben,” Peter whispered. “It was my fault. I could have saved him, but I didn’t, and it’s my fault that he’s gone. He’s the reason why I do…what I do.”

John looked sympathetic. “I’m sorry to hear that. Surely it wasn’t all your fault. Just because you’re…gifted, that doesn’t mean you can save everyone.”

Haltingly, Peter began to tell what had happened, slightly edited for the benefit of anyone within earshot who might be listening in. He told him about trying to turn down the ride to the library. He mentioned the argument with Uncle Ben in the car. He talked about wanting the prize money from the wrestling match for a car to impress Mary Jane, and winning the fight but being denied his prize. He finally got to the part about the thief.

“I saw the bastard running down the hallway,” Peter said with anger creeping into his voice. “I could have tripped him. If I’d just stuck out my foot, Uncle Ben would be here today. If I’d just done the right thing, he would be alive.”

John’s voice dropped to a low whisper. “Where would your alter ego be, then?”

He shrugged. “Maybe I wouldn’t have become him. Maybe I would have eventually lost my abilities and become normal again. I really don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does,” John replied with certainty. “Peter, because of you, I’m still here, and so is everyone else who was on that train. If you hadn’t been there, that maniac would have killed us all. Not to mention, he would have destroyed the city with his bomb. You’re a hero. You matter to the people whose lives you touch, whether you realize it or not. That is what being a hero is all about.”

Peter looked at him in amazement. “You have no idea,” he said in total seriousness, “how much you just made my day. Make that my week…no, month. I’d say year, but that’s probably pushing it.”

The lawyer nodded. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, how exactly did you acquire your…talents? Are you one of those mutants? If you are, it’s okay, I’m just curious.”

“Spider bite,” Peter said through a mouthful of sandwich.

“What?” asked the other man, thinking he hadn’t heard correctly.

Peter swallowed. “I was bitten by a radioactive spider on a field trip for my science class back in high school.”

“You’re kidding.”

He shook his head. “I joke about a lot of things, but not this.”

“Man, that’s got to be a one in a billion chance of happening.”

“One in a trillion at least,” Peter replied.

“Have you tried playing the lottery?”

He nodded. “Too many times to count. I’m still a dirt-poor college student with a crummy day job, unfortunately.”

“Ah. And your major is?”

“Biochemistry.”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised that you’re a scientist.” John reached into his pocket and fished out a business card. “If you ever do find yourself in need of a lawyer, call me.”

Peter nodded. “Will do. Thanks.”

“No, thank you,” John replied. He stood up. “I’ve got to get back to the office. Nice running into you. Small world, huh?”

“Yeah.”

The guy whose life Peter had saved disappeared into the crowd while he looked down at the business card and put it into his own pocket. He glanced up at the crowd and wondered how many more lives he would eventually save. Spider-man did matter. Being a hero was about touching lives. That was what really counted.

* * * * *

The End