With great power, comes great responsibility.

"Days?" I ask in a pitifully small voice, like I'm some lost little kid instead of a man who let one woman fall to her death and stunned another with her own gun only hours ago -- not to mention someone who knocked his best friend out cold and watched on as a man literally lost his head. I've been injured worse, I'm sure of it, but never for this long. My healing factor should've kicked in by now. I should be able to move, stand up, walk. I should be able to be there for her instead of the other way around. I should be able to do all of these things and more, but I can't, because she's right -- I'm not Spider-Man anymore. "Weeks? How long am I gonna be...?"