I rode silently in the backseat of the police cruiser.  Two police cars drove in front of mine, and two drove behind.  If I tried to escape, I wouldn't get far.

Besides, I had a bullet in my leg.  There was no way that I could escape.

I leaned back, resting my head against the cool glass of the rear window.  It vibrated lightly from the car's motion.  I closed my eyes, listening to what was going on in the front of the vehicle.

"Yes, he's doing fine," Captain Stacy said into his police radio.  He was driving the police car I was held hostage inside.

He released the button on his radio, then reached a traffic light.  He slowed down to a stop.  Although he could have run it, he decided not to, since he was no longer in any kind of a hurry.  He turned around in his seat so he could face me, the chair squeaking.  I opened my eyes so I could see him.

"I have to ask you something, Mr. Parker," Captain Stacy said.  I blinked, raising an eyebrow.  "Why are you assaulting innocent civilians?  And why are you the one dating my daughter?"

I thought for a minute.  I could try to defend myself, but would it really do me any good?  All of the evidence was against me.  I decided to try, anyway.  What did I have to lose? 

"I'm not," I said.  "I'm saving them."

"Of course you are," he huffed, amused.  The traffic light turned green, and he drove forward.  "Also, why are you always chasing criminals that look the same?  You know, male, shoulder length blonde hair..."

"One of them killed my uncle, that's why," I interrupted.

"Why didn't you just leave that to the police, huh?"  He asked me.

"I feel like it's my responsibility to find him."

"And why is that?"

I sighed.  "I could have stopped him before.  And...I didn't...and then Uncle Ben did the right thing.  I feel...guilty."

"But that's the police's job, not yours."

"The police wasn't even getting anywhere on the case."

Captain Stacy was still driving, so I couldn't see the look on his face, but I knew it was some kind of scowl.  When he spoke again, his words were sour.

"The NYPD has more than just one case to deal with, you know.  And you also have to collect evidence, use strategy...you can't just go in for the kill."

I was silent.

"Why are you assaulting innocent civilians?"  He asked again.  "You sure are causing a lot of trouble."

"I'm not.  I'm trying to save them," I repeated.

"How so?  Even if you really are a vigilante, we don't need one.  That's what the police department is for."

"Then why aren't they catching my uncle's killer, huh?"  Anger rose in me.  I exhaled, trying to calm down.

"I already said..."

"Look, you need me!  You just don't want to admit it!  So what if those criminals all look the same?  They would have escaped by the time the police arrived.  I caught them for you, I saved civilians from death, and now you're arresting me?"

"We need more evidence for the case."

"Like my story isn't enough!"  We stopped at another traffic light.  My spider senses alerted me of a carjacker, several feet away.  Captain Stacy didn't notice.  "There's a carjacker over to the right, by the way," I said casually, lowering my tone.  Captain Stacy's head whipped to the right, and his eyes widened at the sight of the criminal.

"Carjacker, fifty feet away, three o'clock, in the mall parking lot," he announced into his radio.  A couple of police leaped out of the cruisers behind us, and they arrested the carjacker.  He turned back to me.

"You sure have a talent, son," Captain Stacy pointed out. 

"I know, and I was using it before."

"How are you like this?"  He questioned.  I sighed, thinking about my trip to Oscorp, getting bitten by the spider.  Then I recalled purchasing webs for my webshooters.

"I had an accident...at Oscorp," I mumbled.  I sure hoped that it would be all right to tell my secret.

"What kind of accident?"

"There are these special radioactive spiders at Oscorp; my father was working on them before he...he uh...he died...and one bit me."

"I see."

We were driving again, and we drove for another little while before we arrived at the police station.  Captain Stacy led me out of the backseat, checked my handcuffs, and escorted me inside.  I smirked a little at the thought that I could easily break through the cuffs, but I kept the thought to myself and continued to walk.

I was led to a cell at the end of the police station.  On the way there, we passed an office, which had a mirror set up in the back.  I watched us walk by, seeing my reflection.  I was still wearing my Spider-Man suit, minus the mask, and I was walking with a faint limp.  My right thigh was soaked with dried blood.

Every time my right foot hit the ground, pain shot up my leg.  I clenched my teeth, trying to ignore the pain.  I could feel it already healing, though, thanks to my self-healing abilities.

We passed several other jail cells on the way to mine.  They were full of real criminals, with uneven stubble on their chins, ragged hair from the lack of combing it, and some of them emitted foul odors, not caring enough to take a proper shower.  They eyed me carefully, smirking when they saw the suit I was wearing.  I resisted the urge to shoot webs at them, but that would only hurt my case. 

I looked down at the webshooters on my cuffed wrists.  I was surprised that they hadn't removed them already.  Surely they would before they locked me in my cell.

We finally reached my cell, all the way at the end.  It was isolated from all of the other criminals; there wasn't another person locked up until several cells down.  Maybe they just didn't want me to take advantage of the other criminals.

The police officers led me inside, removing my cuffs.  One of them touched my left webshooter, frowning.  He was about to remove it when Captain Stacy, who was standing beside him, spoke.

"Leave them.  We'll worry about it later," he said.  My eyebrows shot up.  What was he planning?  The police officer shrugged, dropping my hand. 

Captain Stacy looked down at my leg.  "He needs medical attention.  Find a nurse."  A couple of officers dispersed from the group, retrieving one.  "I want to talk to him.  Alone."

"But Captain, sir, he's dangerous..."  One of the officers argued.

"I said I want to talk to him alone," Captain Stacy barked.  The officers nodded, then backed out of the cell, closing the door behind them with a clang.

I watched him for a minute, and he stared back at me.  He sighed, scratching his forhead.

"Sit," he told me.  I sat.  He crossed his arms.  "Why do you want to help save people?"  So had he changed his mind about me?

"It's the right thing to do," I replied.

"Why you?"

"Because I'm one of the few people who can, other than the police, of course.  I just...I don't want to waste my abilities, you know."

"You're doing it because you think you have to?"

"No!  I mean, that's not what I meant at all!  What I did mean was that...was that...people need saving.  I can save them, and I've come to love it.  Perhaps you could relate?"

"I do; I can.  No matter how dangerous things come to be, I always want to help others."

"Yes."

Captain Stacy walked up to me, then sat beside me on my cell bed.  "I want to believe you.  I really hope I was wrong about you, Peter," he whispered into my ear.

"What can I do to get you to believe me?"

"What if I put you on parole?  Then you can show me what you can do."

The corners of my mouth turned upward into a grin.  "I'd like that."

"Good."