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A/N: An Easter present from me to you:

2970 words in this chapter ;) Enjoy

(Two chapters in one week? *Pats on back* Good job Author-nim)

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Cold.

Cold was all she could feel as she finished the voice message and hung up the phone.

The back of her head hit against the brick wall as she let out a shaking sigh. The bags under her eyes were a dark color of purple and her lips were frozen and chapped.

All she had on was her black long sleeve shirt and jeans when she ran out of her father's labs—forgetting about her backpack and jacket. All she carried when she made a run for it was her phone.

Madeline didn't know wether or not her father's cure was going to work, for it was made specifically for a different person, so she used her phone to make one more phone call of her supposed last moments. That phone call was for Peter. But he never picked up.

She was somewhat glad anyhow, Maddie would probably never get two words out if he did. She couldn't face him, nor could she ever face anyone. Madeline felt like a beast was growing inside and slowly making their way out. If she were to die here in an alleyway from the cure, then so be it. She wouldn't have to worry about having to hurt anyone again. But if maybe the cure does work, that 50/50 chance, then maybe her and Peter could be happy again and things would be normal.

But for now, she decided to wait. Wait until she either took her last breath, or her first healthy one.

Madeline's headache now started to grow back.

No. . No. .Not again.

She took heavy breaths, like someone having an asthma attack would breathe.

She slid down the wall and fell onto the ground, her hands clutching at the side of her head and chest. The pain was unbearable. Her head felt like it was going to implode right then and there.

She knew she couldn't ask anyone for help, she might lash out on the first person she saw. But she also knew that she didn't want pain anymore.

A shiver ran up her spine as the migraine slowly died down to a minimum. She tried to keep herself distracted by trying to read the graffiti tagged on the walls around her.

It wouldn't be long until Peter would contact her Dad saying she's alive or maybe even her father and co workers finding her. But she didn't want them to just yet, she wanted to see for herself if her body could take the cure or not without having to hurting anybody.

And as she sat on the cold ground, she tucked her legs in and hugged them—now looking like a curled up homeless lady on the side of the road.

A chill of cold air would occasionally come out of her mouth as she breathed and she felt the wind bite anywhere her skin was exposed.

I'm gonna freeze out here, she thought to herself, and wiped away the tears that sat in her eyes. Madeline looked around for any type of blanket to keep herself warm, but there was nothing to be seen.

She cursed under her breath as her trembling and weak legs walked to find anything to help, and that's when she spotted a rusty door to her right. The building was an abandoned elderly shelter so there was bound something in there to help defeat the weather.

Madeline shivered from a sudden burst of wind plowing through the alleyway, making the fallen Autumn leaves around her circle in tornado shapes.

She tried to turn the knob, but it didn't budge. No surprise.
She put all of her weight onto the door. The squeaking and hollow sound coming from the other side indicated that something must've been blocking the door.

She knew what she had to do. Maddie took a tiny step back, readying herself for soreness here afterwards. She then used her right shoulder to ram herself in the door, resulting a loud pounding sound and something toppling over on the other side. But the door wasn't open just yet.

A few more grunts and pushing and she finally got it open, only to be weakened by how much strength she was giving out and collapsing to the ground herself.

Her head hit the wooden floor, making her headache slowly come back. She winced in pain and her nails dug at the floor. But they never chipped or broke, instead she looked up at her hand and noticed that her nails were morphing into a point. Her cuticles were a green color and her knuckles had small patches of rashes.

She turned her head away from her hands, unable to look at what the disease was doing to her.

All of it seemed unreal. Like everything was just a nightmare that she would soon wake up from.

But sadly, it was all reality. And it was spreading fast.

Part of her wanted to just lie there and forget all that was happening. Maybe she would finally drift asleep forever and all her problems would be gone. But the other wanted to live. She wanted to see Peter again, she wanted to finish school and go to college, and she wanted to see her brother again.

Before she got caught by security, Madeline took the opportunity of being at Oscorp to see him. Though, she didn't get too far.

Scientists had already gotten the message that she was in the building and when she ran through the doors, two security guards had restrained her and taken her up to Norman's office. There, in his office, was the cure that he planned to give.

But as she was being carried away, Madeline took one last look at Harold Osborn in his glass cage. He was sitting still in a white chair, strapped to it securely, looking at Madeline like she was merely a stranger.

He had finally forgotten who she was.

Doctors watched as she screamed in pain and sadness when she realized her brother was gone and never coming back.
Some say, when she was being restrained and taken to her father's office, her blue eyes turned a full-on green.

It wasn't a surprise of they saw, they already knew that she was next anyways.

Madeline sat up from the ground, her elbows scratched and jeans torn at the knees.

She lazily stood up, clutching her own arms and trying to ignore the amount of blood flowing to her brain.

Madeline looked around at the crippled senior home, emptied with nothing but a lobby desk and a couple of table and chairs.

Birds squawked above her, seemingly to call her foul names. She looked upwards, the roof was badly broken and holes had leaked out sunlight.

Everything in here was broken, including her.

Madeline spotted a wheelchair tilted on its side with an oversized jacket loosely thrown over it.

She stumbled to the chair and winced while trying to put it back on its right form. She slipped on the jacket, it's denim was worn and dry but she didn't care. Any kind of warmth was good enough for her.

She then sat in the chair, giving her legs a break from all the running. The scrapes she received from her clumsy fall now dripped of blood, staining her jeans.

But it was much less painful then the pounding migraine she received afterwards.

She cried silently for it to stop, clutching onto her head like it was about to fall off. She couldn't hear anything, for the ringing in her ears soon drowned out everything else, even her own voice.

Instead, a new voice popped up in her head, and a full amount of anxiety and adrenaline courses through her veins.

It was telling her one thing and one thing only.

It was telling her to sleep. It was telling her to forever close her eyes and drift off into abyss as her body slipped away from reality. It was telling her to let out all pain and anger at the same time. And it was telling her that she was a monster—a monster that could no longer become in control of her own mind.

Madeline tasted her own tears in her mouth as she kept listening to the voice. It kept telling her to let go but she was too afraid to. She was afraid of losing everything if she did let go. Her father, friends, Aunt May, and Peter were all dear to her and it hurt to make herself believe that she couldn't be with them anymore since she was sick.

She was something that couldn't be contained anymore. All she wanted was to succumb to the awaiting darkness.

Finally, she gave herself up to the voice.

Her hands fell from her head.

Her arms slowly went limp.

Her head lazily fell back.

And the last of her tears dropped onto her cheeks as she closed her eyes.

=======
Queens, New York
8:55pm

Peter made a swift landing on top of a rooftop. His feet and muscle started to hurt from all the rooftop jumping and swinging he was doing. Getting to where he needed to go took longer than he wanted, so he made haste in using all his strength into traveling by web.

On the way, he looked up the Oscorp service line and quickly called it while swinging through Queens.

A lady picked up, saying the usual greeting she was instructed to do, "You are now calling Oscorp Industries, how may I help- -"

"- -Listen," he said hastily into the phone while detaching his web and making a landing on a building, "I need a direct call to Norman Osborn's office."

"I'm sorry sir, Mr. Osborn is currently out of his offi- -"

"- -Then direct me to his mobile phone—I don't care—just do it please it's urgent," Peter yelled at the lady, shooting a line of web at a building and leaping off in the air.

"Sir, I can't do that, you're going to have to schedule an appointment before hand."

Peter huffed out a frustrated sigh before shaking his head at the lady. He wasn't planning on giving up just yet.

"It's about his daughter, Madeline Osborn. I know where she's at and I know that he's looking for her. So just put me on the line. Her life could be at stake right now. . ."

Silence and tapping noises coming from a computer was all he could hear on the other line, which made him irritated by the second as he waited for a reply.

"Very well. Please hold."

Peter lets out a relived exhale, "Thank you."

The boy's call is soon transferred over, and as he waited for the call to go through, Peter detached another web and landed on the sidewalk of Queens.

He looked ahead and saw the tall tower of Oscorp down the street as he ran and ran. People took videos and pictures of the mask hero in red and blue, running down the street. But Peter didn't care. All he cared about was getting to Madeline.

Eventually, he ended up at the long street of Barrington Avenue. Only a couple of people loitering were seen in this part of town and most of them were homeless people. Smoke rose from the rooftops on chimneys and the cold wind struck Peter instantly. Spandex isn't such a good insulator apparently.

The boy held the phone up to his ear, hearing a faint "Hello?" on the other end. He knew the deep and raspy voice anywhere.

"Mr. Osborn, it's me Peter-."

"Parker! Is Madeline with you—tell me she's okay."

"No, she's not with me. She's in an alleyway at Barrington Avenue on sixteenth street, that's where she is right now."

"When was this? Peter, is she okay?"

"Thirty minutes—or an hour—I don't know, she called me and left a voicemail saying where she was but that's it."

The boy ran into the only alleyway on the street, hoping to spot Madeline. But she wasn't there, just trash cans, rats, old boxes and rubbish scattered everywhere.

This could only be the place. It was far enough from Oscorp for her to escape from but close enough so that she could still hide in plain sight. And with a heavy heart, Peter takes off his mask and bites his quivering bottom lip.

"S-Sir, I'm sorry I didn't- -" he started to say with a trembling voice but he's interrupted with a sound of a car door slamming and an engine starting on the other side of the call.

"It's fine son. I'm close to that location now so don't worry. Thank you for informing me—"

The call ended there and Peter was left with a monotone sound beeping in his ear. His hand left the side of his ear and hung down numbly.  He stared at the empty alley in front of him, confused and exhausted.

The boy walked on down, hearing rats squeak occasionally and his footsteps echoing in the narrow space. If it weren't for the wind blowing on through, he wouldn't have heard the sound of a door squeaking and hitting something metal on his right.

He looked over at a broken-hinged door and saw what little sunlight that shone through it.

Peter saw only what he wished he hadn't seen inside, a frail girl sitting with her head and body limped back in a wheelchair.

The boy practically ran inside the abandoned building and took her into his care, inspecting to see if she was alive or not.

"Maddie I'm here, I'm—"

He shook her shoulder to try and get her to wake up from the state of unconsciousness, but no luck prevailed as her arm hung at her side.

"—God, no, no, no," Peter mumbled as he lifted her head up with both hands. He stood in front of the girl sitting in the wheelchair, now seeing her pale complexion and sunken in eyelids.

He moved his head down to her chest and listened for a heartbeat. It was there, but it was slow and uneven. Peter felt a weight lift off his shoulders, he felt relieved that she was still breathing. But he knew she might not be for long.

His suit-covered hands held both sides of her face as his eyes began to well up with tears.

"I'm here. I-I came for you," The boy said with a cracked voice. Peter caressed her cheeks with his thumbs, wishing that they would turn rose instead of their ghostly white color.
His delirious self let out a pained sob, wishing to not see his girlfriend in such a lifeless state.

"C'mon, open your eyes. We gotta go meet your dad, he—he can fix this all. You just have to wake up, Madeline, please," he begged but no response came from her.

He turned his head away, biting his bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

He stepped to the side of the wheelchair, looking through the cracked windows for anyone that could somehow help, but no one was around.

He decided it was up to him.

"I'm gonna get you out of here," He said to the girl, not expecting any kind of response.

Peter picked Madeline up from the wheelchair, using his upper strength to carry her weak body in his arms. Her head lazily fell onto his shoulder and it pained him to try and not burst into tears.

He wished none of this had to happen to her. She never deserved to die like this. She deserves happiness and a long life. So Peter was going to make sure it was going to come down to her living.

But as he stepped out into the cold and watery world, his eyes widened when he heard the sirens of cop cars and an ambulance suddenly pull up on the alleyway.

The entrance was now blocked with flashing red and blue lights, all people inside the vehicles were rushing to find the girl that was currently being held by the hero.

Peter panicked as he saw a black expensive-looking car pull up on the street as well, most likely carrying Norman Osborn. The boy realized he was unmasked, so he quickly ducked and hid behind a dumpster filled with trash.

He gently put Madeline down on the ground, hating to have to leave her once again. But he couldn't be seen to the police or Norman. They would take him in and question him about why he was there with Madeline Osborn. Eventually, that would lead to his identity being exposed.

He glanced around the corner, seeing a handful of people rushing around the ambulance and getting out a gurney.

Peter looked back to Madeline, who laid against the rusty dumpster with her eyes still closed and her limbs still weak. His expression was ridden with distraught and his tears were soon to be frozen from the frigid air.

He kneeled down next to her, placing his hands on both sides of her head and placed a gentle kiss on top. He lingered there for a few seconds, whispering a promise he hoped she'd hear.

"You're gonna be okay now."

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WARNING THIS IS THE SECOND TO LAST CHAPTER!!

I CANT BELIEVE IT EITHER!!

I CRY 😭😭

-XOXO