Author: Lauren Wagner PM
We know what Eddie Brock prayed for. What would Flint Marko pray for?Rated: Fiction K - English - Spiritual - Words: 987 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 1 - Published: 05-13-07 - Status: Complete - id: 3538055
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He waited until it had stopped raining before he then headed out. The last thing he needed was to turn back into mud and melt away into another lump of nothing again.
Flint Marko was still very exhausted from his entire ordeal with Spider-man in the subway and it felt as if every grain of sand in his body hurt from the whole thing as he floated over to the church; making sure that his grains of sand were spread out enough so that no one looking up would notice a large cloud of sand calmly floating down the street.
The church doors were closed at this time at night, but it was a simple matter of sliding under the door and soon enough he put himself back together and he found himself inside of a dark church where the only light came from the candles at the altar still burning.
Flint didn't need any candles to help him see since technically every grain of sand inside of him "saw" for him. This made seeing in the dark much easier and he sighed softly for a moment as he looked around at all of the statues of the saints and various scenes portrayed in the stained glass windows.
He had always found glass one of the most fascinating man-made things; sand overheated and finally becoming glass.
For a moment he looked at his hand and the very idea of him being forced to fight Spiderman again; and to have the bastard suddenly turn a flamethrower on him and turn him into a statue ran through his mind and made him shudder at the very idea of never being able to see his daughter again.
There was also the idea of him being crapped upon by New York City pigeons and that image just annoyed him if anything else.
Flint hesitated for a moment more, rubbing his arm before he then sat down in the far back of the church, despite the fact that it was empty and he could have easily stepped up to the front of the church.
He looked around for a moment and sighed as he lightly scratched the back of his head for a moment; a few grains of sand falling to the ground and then reabsorbing themselves into his shoes and bottom of his pants.
"Hey…uh…God." He stumbled around with, frowning slightly at how stupid that sounded. "I know that I haven't been here in…ever, but I'm not a real praying man myself really." He admitted with a sigh.
"I never really believed in You, seeing as how You sat back and watched as my father beat me and my ma until he then turned and left us when I was only three-years-old!" he said, anger slowly starting to build.
"And what did my daughter ever do to You?" he snapped, angrily glaring at the crucifix on the wall. "You think that because You let Your Son die that my daughter deserves to die too?" he demanded angrily now; his voice starting to get louder now.
"Penny is a good girl…even if her father is a failure." He admitted softly. "She doesn't deserve to die at such a young age…"
There was a pause then and Flint lowered his head into shaking hands. Just the very thought of his Penny succumbing to the sickness…It was enough to bring Flint Marko, AKA William Baker to his knees.
And he did slide down to his knees in the end and soon enough tears were sliding down his cheeks, thin lines of mud sliding down his cheek and leaving brown streaks that soon dried up and turned back into sand.
"I'm not asking for much." He said. "I know never to ask for more than I can pay for…but please heal my baby girl." He pleaded softly. "That's the one thing that I want the most. Even if I have to die to get it; just make her better so that she can live and become an adult and have a life of her own!"
He looked down at his hands for a moment and he thought that he saw red on them and that made him remember the day that he had killed someone.
"I never meant to kill that old man." He insisted now as he looked at the crucifix once more. "I may be a thief but I'm not a killer…and even if You think I am…why take it out on my daughter and not me?"
He stood up then, finding himself unable to control himself to stay here any longer.
"My daughter is a beautiful little girl and I am going to see her grow up into a beautiful young woman!" he said, pounding his chest with one chest to drive this point in home.
"I'm the one that should be punished if that's what You want!" he shouted for a moment then, and he sighed as he stopped and then shook his head for a moment.
"If I have to die so that she can live, then why don't You just kill me and get it over with?" he asked.
"This is stupid." He muttered softly as he looked away and once more he found himself looking up at the stained glass windows.
He remembered once how he had found a large hour glass very fascinating with how the sand slid down from the top to the bottom and he found the stained glass looking the same way.
He was almost not convinced that what was up there had once been sand only heated up to become glass in the end, and he sighed softly as he shook his head for a moment.
"I love my daughter…" he whispered softly. "And I will do anything to save her."