Sunset was approaching and the Web-slinger continued searching all day in Mexico. This is what worried him,the eternally annoying and unpredictable thief did not show up today,this offended, no,even hurt the cowboy.

It will be dreamy to ride while the criminal commits another robbery. He should not put up with this,he is a hero,not a lovesick fool. When hope fades,the meaning goes away,it becomes useless, the spark he hunts for is lost in the dust of hooves. Catching up with a speeding train with a familiar shadow on the roof,he feels his inner spider senses sharpen,forcing him to chase the spark.

It wasn't hard to get into the open back car of the train,but when he saw them,he would understand why he was here. Pointing his revolver at his target,the Web-slinger cycles through the bullets in his weapon,knowing how much they hate webs sticking to their suit,bandana,or hat.

The click of the revolver's safety catch echoes faintly through the carriage,a warning sound that they had better let go of their hostage,beaten to the point of blood,with bruises on his face and arms,bruises around his eyes and cheeks. Patrick saw their smooth movements as they released an innocent citizen from their blood-filled hands. There follows a quiet sound of heavy swallowing,worry and concern for them. He knows it's wrong,that he should be worried about people,not about the criminal who's filled his head with thoughts about them.

A game of staring, dull eye contact saved the citizen,allowing him to escape with stumbling movements straight from the carriage to another. And they looked at each other in silent address. Web-slinger gave up and lowered his revolver,letting out a long sigh from beneath his mask.

"Why ya doin‘ this?" — obvious fear for them reached his voice, coming closer with a confident step,hiding the revolver back in the holster on his belt, and then grabbing them by the hands,examining the blood on the knuckles,scratches. He didn't want to see them suffer, if they were criminals, if they weren't lovers.