Looking Glass - The Road Back (Through the Looking Glass side-story AU)

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Hey...this is a bit of a new thing, so bear with me. Alright, so I looked over the fic and I...
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Hey...this is a bit of a new thing, so bear with me. Alright, so I looked over the fic and I realized something - the entire plot went belly up and I honestly no clue how to end it. With all the arcs I have planned I honestly can't see a way it'll end with the 'go home or leave' choice, so here's my alternative.

Now I know some popular fics like Ultimate Spider-Woman: Change with the Light, TSA: The Amazing Spider-Man and others have a 'weekly comic' plot, but I know that at least some readers are in it for the consistent story. So here it is - this is a side-story that focuses on the Octavius plotline and its own ending before the plot went sideways.

Note this side-fic isn't in continuity with the main Looking Glass story. The premise is that it's a divergent point from the end of the Vulture arc and that instead of spending the 2 months dicking around Noir actually tried to find Octavius. This means this story has nothing from anything after the Vulture arc: no power-ups, no Venom, no Lana, no Sin Eater or Jack-o-Lantern etc etc. This focuses purely on creating an actual ending from the original premise since the main fic is already dragging.

Oh, and the biggest change: the twist with Noir not being who he's supposed to be? Gone. As far as this side-story is concerned he's Noir and his lack of aging and memory bleedthrough is due to another reason.

And before anyone asks: no, I haven't stopped updating the main story, so please don't think this is my only planned story now. It's not.

 
Chapter 1
Chapter 1: The Road Back

4 months...

He'd wasted so much time, and for what? To play hero? To pretend that anything he did here actually mattered in some grand-standing, universal viewpoint? His Uncle Ben always told him that those who couldn't be trusted with power had to have it taken from them. Was that it? Was he so distracted seeing so much abuse that he just trusted in that mantra to survive in this Madhouse?

Peter shook his head. It didn't matter; in the end he wasted his time, played hero when he should have focused. The fracas with Vulture and his separation from Stacy was just the wake-up call she needed. This place - the future, another dimension, didn't matter - was broken. Put one of those damn 'Supervillains' in prison and they were out within the week. And God forbid you put a bullet in their skull; that'd get you yelled out by your 'partner' and half the city called you a murderer.

He was getting out of this sinking ship while he could.

Which led him here, 'Been weeks since I've seen New York,' Peter pulled the coat tighter against himself and trudged down the warm streets of Stuttgart, Germany. Spring was coming quick, and the people were shifting their moods to accommodate. Despite the early hours of the morning he caught more than a few people walking out of their houses while a few street vendors quickly opened up their shops.

It was noisy and crowded, but it was still preferable to the extreme heat in Afghanistan; that was a place he would've preferred not going back to.

Being alone (at least for now) in a foreign country was hardly his idea of a good time, but beggars couldn't be choosers. 2 months he spent trying to get into Spector's good grace, going with him as far as Russia and the Middle East to try and ingratiate himself, and now it finally paid off.

Octavius was here. And Peter was going to drag that bastard back out of the hole he was hiding in.

He turned to a nearby vendor and raised one finger, "Eins apfel," he said, the older man giving him a raised eyebrow at the stilted accent before accepting the offered euros. Peter took one of the apples from the stand and waved off the offered coins, "Behalte das wechselgeld." He ignored the vendor laughing slightly at his American accent and left as quickly as he came.

Peter walked to the side-street, doing his best to avoid the crowds. He could speak the language to a certain extent - Spector's lessons helped - but he still felt like an outsider here...well, even more than usual. Back in New York he was at least surrounded by New Yorkers - sure they dressed like clowns and talked funny, but he didn't feel like a damn alien trying to speak the language.

He bit into the apple and eyed the GPS system on the phone. Making it to Germany wasn't easy, and considering his lack of an ID that didn't include being shackled to an overgrown Lizard he didn't have much in the way of options - especially not in a place that was as paranoid about terrorists as this dimension was. The fastest way they could manage was smuggling him in the cargo bay on plane and then leaving before anyone caught him.

No guns, though. Only way they could convince the smuggler that he wasn't some kind of hired assassin or gunman instead of the desperate youth looking for a fresh start Spector presented him as.

'Getting close to the meetup point...' All of them came here separately, which was hardly a shock. Spector was legally dead, Bullseye was a fugitive on the run from the spooks and Castle was already making a name for himself as the guy with enough weapons to stockpile an army. He couldn't imagine anyone crazy enough to give even one of them commercial flights, let alone as a group.

Stuttgart was different from New York. Barely any big buildings and the place looked almost picturesque, though he knew that was only skin-deep. Place looked nice enough, but there were always worms rotting underneath the concrete.

'Should be around here somewhere...' He turned the GPS off and flipped to a the picture of the blue door. Admittedly it wasn't the best way to get directions, but he'd dealt with worse. Trying to find a foxhole in the middle of the Afghan desert made this seem positively benign by comparison, "Come on, come on..." He rounded another corner and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the marked wood at the side of the alley.

He wasn't the first one there. Peter barely opened the door before a card whizzed past his head and embedded itself against the wall, "Nice to see you too, Bullseye." He pried the playing card from the wall and threw it back to the sharpshooter, getting an amused grin in response. Most people would've been annoyed getting a projectile as a greeting, but he'd more than gotten used to it by now. His lack of blaring spider-sense made it clear it wasn't an attack anyway.

The safehouse was nothing to write home about: a small table, a few chairs and a bag that looked like it belonged to its sole occupant. Spector told him it was bare bones; he really wasn't kidding.

"Yeah, you're a sight for sore eyes, kid. Even if you eating an apple does make you look like an asshole." Bullseye laughed under his breath and placed the card back on the deck, "Hope your trip was better than mine. Guys I got to smuggle me here were trafficking a bunch of desperate schmucks and selling em to anyone who'd buy...I tell you, it's a pain in the ass to kill everyone on a ship with just some paper clips, but I managed."

"Sounds like an adventure. I take it there were no survivors?" Not that he cared too much. Human traffickers, murderers, rapists...easy enough to forget White Widow's arguments to right of life.

"There aren't any police officers at sea, so you can guess the answer to that." He waved a hand through the air lazily, "Good thing those poor bastards they planned to sell could help pilot the ship cause I tell ya I really didn't fancy swimming all the way to shore."

"Figures you'd run into a buncha traffickers knowing your luck." Peter let out a single, soft laugh. The worst thing he ran into was an angry chihuahua who didn't take kindly to his being present on the storage hold, "You heard from the others?"

"Yeah, ol Frankie left a note. Said he was going to set up somewhere else and that we should just call him when we got ready for the raid." Bullseye gestured to the hastily scribbled note at the edge of a nearby table. Not much words, but it got the point across, "You know, call me crazy but I don't think Frankie likes the rest of us too much."

"He doesn't." The only reason he even agreed to do this was because he cashed in that favor after saving his family. The guy might've been a bastard who left them behind to play 'Punisher', but he wasn't ungrateful, "Hope he managed to get his weapons past customs. I don't fancy having nothing but his fists as backup." He felt naked without his revolver, but he didn't fancy getting caught with a gun in a place like this.

"Speaking of customs, Frankie left a present for you." He pointed to the duffel bag in the corner, "I think you'll like it."

Peter opened the bag and smiled slightly when he saw the small Glock 26 and a few extra magazines - some normal, some extended - neatly stacked nearby, "Best present I've had since I got here." He took the gun and inspected it carefully. Small, but the bullets hurt all the same, "Hmm..." He detached the magazine and made sure the chamber was empty before taking aim at the stack of cards on the table and pulling the trigger.

The soft click brought him no short amount of relief. Powers or no it never hurt to have a little backup just in case, "Huh, nice." Bullseye whistled appreciatively, "Not really into guns myself, but Frankie has good taste."

"Need something that can be concealed. Gun control laws in this place are pretty strict..." He stuffed the pistol down his boot holster and put the magazines into his coat pocket. Hopefully they didn't run into any metal detectors or police hounds in their stay here, "Sure you don't wanna find a piece for yourself?" Raiding a terrorist base with nothing more than a deck of playing cards seemed insane even for him.

"Nah, I'm good."

Peter didn't get a chance to argue further before the door opened and Spector- Grant strode in, a cocky smile on his face and his white suit immaculate. However he ended up here he probably didn't have to share with a rat dog, "Gentlemen, glad you could make it." He eyed them both for a few seconds before he noted the empty chair, "I take Mr. Castle isn't joining us."

"Castle said to just call him with the details. Speaking of which..."

"No need to be impatient, Peter." He walked closer to the table and pulled out a map with an exaggerated flourish. Peter rolled his eyes; Grant was always a bit of a showboat, "You two, we all know the stakes here so there won't be any need for speeches." ...And back to Spector again. Dealing with Moon Knight always gave him a headache, "Our objective is the capture of Dr. Otto Octavius."

"Yeah, I got that much." Bullseye rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the map, "The hell, this a church? What kind of terrorist bunks at a church?"

"Many of them, but this one's reasons aren't what you think." Spector tapped the map twice, "S.I.L.K bought the property under the guise of one of their shell companies ostensibly for the purpose of refurbishing the property. No one looks twice at a place like this being rebuilt, after all. If Lady Tomoe's information is legitimate then Octavius has been here for the past half a year."

"Better be accurate..." Working with a Yakuza oyabun to get this information definitely wasn't the high point of his short-lived career, "Sure there's no innocent people here, Spector?"

"Positive. The rare few times they need to show construction they simply have their goons dress up and mimic the part," He pointed to the roof, "We'll raid the place tonight at 9 pm. Castle will cover us from an opposite rooftop with a sniper rifle. You and Bullseye shall go through the roof, take out the sentries and take the doctor while I go through the side entrance. Too large a group and we only hurt ourselves."

"Yeah, I get it..." He pored over the map and frowned slightly, "Me and Bullseye are gonna nab Octavius, but what are you gonna be doing?"

"Disabling their defenses." He pulled out a small gizmo from his pocket and held it out to them both, "Again, Lady Tomoe's aid shall be crucial here. If the defenses are not disabled then you will die."

"All we gotta count on is that a Yakuza boss keeps her word. Great..."

"We don't have to count on her honor, only in her self-interest. She's been in conflict with S.I.L.K since her rise in the ranks; she gains nothing from double-crossing our attempt to take one of their head scientists." He nodded and looked back at the map, "Once you capture Octavius we shall meet that at the pre-arranged docks. The ship I've bribed leaves at 2 am, so we don't have a large margin of error."

"Seems simple enough." Bullseye flipped a card between his fingers and grinned, "Typical snatch and grab. This was a milk run back in S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Not so sure. I've seen some of the freakshows those bastards pumped out; something tells me that we gotta be careful here..." A hand rubbed at the wrist of his right arm and he frowned. That poison was still in his system cause of them, "Look, Bullseye, just make sure you don't go off on me. We need this bastard alive - he's my ticket to getting home."

"Oh, ye of little faith." The bald sharpshooter grinned, "Trust me, we're gonna do this easy.

He wished he could share Bullseye's confidence. Sighing, Peter took the earpiece Moon Knight offered and secured it on his right ear. It was do or die.


The church wasn't anything to write home about. It was old and picturesque, but so were most of the buildings in this place. Peter looked up the brick wall for a brief moment before he jumped, grabbing hold of some uneven squares that stood out. Places like these were easy to climb, not like this Madhouse's New York - those places were sleek and uniform; almost impossible to find a handhold without having to make his own.

He nearly to the top before he heard a set of footsteps drawing closer. Cursing internally, he swung over to a nearby ledge and pressed himself against the wall, "Fuck, it's cold..." a voice from above said. American by the sounds of him. Peter clenched his hand and shimmied across the thin ledge. What he wouldn't give to be able to stick to walls like Stacy could...

Peter was about to reach over and grab the poor schmuck before he heard the sounds of breaking flesh followed by a dull thud. Eyes narrowed, he pulled himself up and let out a soft breath at the sight of the would-be construction worker dead on the ground with a bloody hole between his eyes.

"Be more careful." Castle's voice came from the earpiece.

"Yeah, thanks..." He dragged the corpse onto a nearby crook out of sight and frowned at the scent of blood that wafted up his nostrils, "Castle, you get a good look at how many of these bozos there are?"

"Two of them at the side-entrance your friend ran through. I took care of them. There are two more on the other side of the roof and one on the spire with a sniper rifle."

"Hold your shots for now. I don't want this place stinking up with copper." He made his way to the other leftmost side of the roof and looked over the edge. Bullseye was climbing up, though he had less luck than him, "Come on..." He offered him a hand, which the older man quickly took. As tempted as he was to make a joke on his sub-par climbing skills this really wasn't the time or place.

Peter placed a hand against his lips in a 'shh' gesture before they both lowered into a crouch, "Castle, take the sniper out on my go." He pointed to the other side of the roof and they made their way across the tiled rooftop. Bullseye was mercifully quiet; far better than his experiences partnering up with Stacy by a longshot. By now she would've stomped her foot and made a quip.

He and Bullseye took up a spot opposite of one another, "...Now." He barely heard the sound of the shot coming from the earpiece before he rushed forward and grabbed the left sentry while Bullseye took the right. The rent-a-clown opened his mouth to scream out a warning and Peter quickly snapped his neck, his voice dying out before he got more than a muffled 'what the-'.

The other sentry didn't fare better considering the playing card embedded at the side of his neck, "Messy, Bullseye." He set the schmuck down against the wall away from view and wiped his hands.

"You weren't really specific, kid," Bullseye said, his tone completely unapologetic, "Come on, lets get inside before the rest of their buddies figure out something's up.

"Right...hey, Castle, warn us if something happens. We gotta bolt first chance we get."

"Copy that."

The inside of the church was the same as the outside - pretty to look at and not much else. Peter looked around the bare walkways quickly before jumping down into the main room, Bullseye joining him soon after. Unlike the roof the entire place was barren, almost eerily so. For second he almost expected the Hunchback to swoop down on a rope and ask them what they were planning here.

He switched frequencies on the earpiece and frowned, "Moon Knight, not seeing an entrance here."

"Hold a moment, I'm at the computer room now." The sound of pained screams echoed through before Spector's voice came back, "The guards spotted me, but I managed to incapacitate them before they could sound the alarm. Now..." Typing, quickly followed by a burst of static, "According to this the second entrance is hidden behind a nearby altar."

Peter did a sweeping glance and smiled wryly at the statue of the Virgin Mary at the center. Something told him Octavius and his ilk weren't exactly the kind of people they wanted to give sanctuary to, "Yeah, I found it..." He traced a hand through the dusty surface of the marble. He'd been praying a lot ever since he got taken to this asylum.

It never helped.

It was easy enough to push it out of the way and expose the dull metal doors hidden behind the peeling wood. A few seconds passed in total silence before Moon Knight chimed in his ear again, "I can open it from here and with the security cameras I can monitor your progress. The guards are relatively light, but the corridors are tight. Be careful of getting trapped-"

"Just open that door, Spector."

The doors opened silently to a sleek, metal stairway. Peter took a deep breath and unholstered the glock, holding onto it tightly with his left hand. Something told him once they got in there wouldn't be much room for subtlety...and he couldn't deny that he wanted Octavius scared. He'd escaped him once in the asylum; no one was going to save him this time.

"I can't see your face, but I can tell you're on edge." Bullseye pulled out four cards and placed one between each of his fingers, "Don't worry, I got your back."

"Thanks..."

The smooth metal coupled with the air-conditioning made Peter feel like he'd stepped into another world entirely. He took a few tentative steps down the stairway, right hand pressed against the wall and his focus resting solely on his spider-sense. Spector was on his ear, but he wasn't exactly comfortable putting all his trust on a guy who could flip the second one of the other voices in his head wanted their turn.

His spider-sense blared a few seconds before Moon Knight warned him, "Around the corner. Three guards." Peter looked back slightly and raised three fingers, Bullseye nodding quickly in response, "Take them out silently if you could."

It went the same as above. Two of the guards had their jugulars sliced through by the cards while Peter stabbed the last one through the side of his head with the knife Spector loaned him. At the back of his head he almost heard Stacy lecturing him on the sanctity of life, but he ignored it. The last thing he needed was to think about her considering how their last meeting went.

Peter took the assault rifle one was carrying and slung it around his shoulders. Better safe than sorry, "Moon Knight, you got an eye on Octavius?"

"No. The decryptor is still pouring through the system." Peter scowled. Perfect, knowing his luck they probably raided the place the one night he was on break. Sighing, he continued down the hallway.

"Any actual good news?"

"Records, though nothing useful to your objective." A few clicks came and went before he spoke up again, "Octavius uses this facility to try and unlock certain genes in people, experimenting on them for the sake of obtaining enhanced abilities. There are correspondences between S.I.L.K and a program called Weapon X on the creation of disposable human weapons."

"Like little miss lightning bolt, you mean?"

"Yes." Almost a minute of silence passed before Moon Knight continued, "Personnel records indicate that a man by the name of Aleksei Systevich was transferred here for the sake of protecting Octavius, so be careful." Systevich? It didn't take him long to remember the blue skinned Russian with the poor vocabulary. Didn't think he'd run into him again...

"I'll deal with Vodkalky. You just worry about keeping us intact."

The rest of the hall was almost desolate, which brought him no relief. He was constantly expecting the other shoe to drop or for the alarm to suddenly warn everyone in this place on where they were supposed to be.

"Agh..." He stumbled slightly as his spider-sense suddenly blared. Not danger, at least not the kind he expected, "What the...?" He traced a hand through the closest door and frowned. Something was behind this door, "Moon Knight, got any sights on what's behind here?"

"A prison ward for test subjects. Nothing concerning your current objective."

Just leave it, the rational part of his head said. Playing hero was what got him in this mess and it wasn't going to get him out of it, "...Damn it." He couldn't just leave. He saw what the freakshows in this place could do and he didn't wanna imagine what they'd be like even after he took Octavius out of this cesspit, "How many guards back there, Spector?"

"There's nothing-"

"Just tell me!"

"...4, each of them carrying shock batons. Likely to keep the prisoners in check."

Nodding, Peter looked back and gave Bullseye a nod before he kicked the door down. The dumb schmucks never got a chance to scream before he rushed in and tackled the closest two, stabbing one through the eye and snapping the other one's neck while Bullseye dealt with the remaining two, 'It's gotten easier...' He knelt and pulled the blooded knife out of the fink's left socket. Back home he'd killed, but he'd tried to abstain after Aunt May's lecture. A couple of months here and he was back to old habits.

The people in the cells looked up in surprise and fear. A few of them screamed and banged against the clear glass, but no sounds came, 'Must be soundproof.' The poor bastards looked like they'd seen better days, but that was to be expected. Least they didn't look broken like little miss lightning bolt, "I'm going to get you out. Don't worry." He didn't know if they could hear him, but he had to try.

"This turning into a rescue mission, kid?" Bullseye asked, "I don't mind, but I thought this was a snatch and grab?"

"No reason it can't be both." He picked up the shock baton and attached it to his trouser, "Moon Knight, can you open these cells?"

"Yes, but it risks sounding an alarm if we do so." Peter sighed. Of course it did, "Even if it doesn't the prisoners might be unstable due to the experimentation. I can keep Octavius from escaping, but escaping with both him and the prisoners will be difficult. Are you sure you wish to do this?"

Peter didn't reply at first. His attention was drawn to the solitary cell sitting at the far corner of the room, "X-23?" He scowled at the label and looked down at the sole occupant. A little girl who looked no older than 9 backed up against the edge of the cell, her hands chained to the walls with a pair of cuffs. She looked up at him with a fierce glare, her mouth curled in an open growl.

"Spider-Man, are you-"

"Open the cells."

Another few seconds of quiet followed before the clear glass doors opened with a soft whoosh, "Bullseye, take care of the rest of the prisoners..." There had to be a reason the little girl was the only one shackled. Taking a deep breath, Peter stepped closer and raised his hands, "I'm a friend, okay? I'm here to get you and everyone else out. Do you understand me?"

She didn't respond, but he saw her glare soften however slightly. He decided to take it as a good sign, "Alright, hold still..." He knelt down next to her, pulled out a lockpick and got to work.

It only took a few seconds to unlock the right cuff and the other one quickly followed. Peter offered her a hand, but she just glared and stood up on her own. Well, fine then. He'd take what he could get.

"Spider-Man, hurry. The release of the prisoners alerted the sentries. You don't have much time to get Dr. Octavius."

Moon Knight barely finished his warning before the door opened and a swarm of guards rushed in, all of them screaming threats for the prisoners to return to their cells. Peter raised his gun to fire before he heard the animalistic scream and the little girl charged with, and he couldn't believe he was saying this, two metallic claws jutting out of each hand.

She made short work of them, slicing through their limbs, necks and whatever else she could reach. Before he could raise his gun to fire they were all dead and she was the only one left standing, her patient gown covered in thick streams of blood.

"Octavius is trying to escape, Spider-Man. Hurry!"

"Right..." Shaking his head, he turned to Bullseye and pushed him ahead, "Get the rest of the prisoners out of here! I'm going after Octavius!"

He didn't wait for Bullseye's reply. He ran past the little girl and rushed down the hall, his hands priming the assault rifle, "Where do I go?" He could hear the alarms blaring now, a constant sound that nearly gave him a headache, "Moon Knight, where-"

"Three lefts and a right. That's the laboratory."

Peter turned the corner and jumped back as his spider-sense blared, "Shit..." He pressed himself against the wall and scowled at the sounds of bullets impacting against the nearby wall. He didn't have time for this, "Damn it..." Taking a deep breath, he took aim and fired, the two guards screaming in pain and falling on the backs soon after.

"I dunno what you did, but more of these guys are swarming the church," Castle said, "I'll distract them, but I can't do it for long."

"Do as much as you can." He picked up a spare magazine from his pocket and reloaded the gun-

Spider-sense.

Moving automatically, he lowered himself into a crouch and winced as bullets rushed overhead, 'Too close.' He gunned the next three guards down with his pisto before they could adjust their aim and quickly ran down the right intersection again. Despite all he'd been through a pitched firefight was something that was new to him. He was a vigilante, not a soldier.

Still, it didn't matter how man men they threw at him. He wasn't going to lose Octavius, not again.

"Laboratory." He was here, "Moon Knight, open the door."

"Alright, but hurry."

The two at the other side of the door brought out simultaneous feelings of relief and dread. Octavius was on his wheelchair with a look of panic on his face, which only worsened when their gaze met. It'd been years since he saw the bastard and he looked no different. Still latching onto anyone who'd take him, still conducting his sick experiments.

Next to him Systevich stood proudly, his expression going from slight surprise to amusement when he caught sight of him, "Haha, is this cause of big emergency?" he said, the accented English immediately grating Peter's ears, "Bug man wishing to die, yes? That's why you come alone?" He grinned and spread his arms, "Be giving it your best shot."

Peter raised the rifle and fired, emptying the magazine at his broad chest. He was only marginally surprised to see the metal bounce off the skin, "...Shit."

"New bosses give me upgrades!" Systevich charged towards him, both hands raised in an overhead strike. Peter dodged the clumsy strike easily and scowled as Octavius wheeled himself into a nearby saferoom and locked the door. He couldn't worry about him now, "Bullets, blades...all are like flies hitting against windshield. You cannot hurt me!"

They'd just see about that. Scowling, Peter reloaded the rifle and emptied the magazine again only to get the same results, 'Fuck.' He ducked under the sweep and punched him right between his legs...

"Hahaha, it tickles!" Systevich tried to grab for him, but he was faster. Peter slid under his legs and clenched his fists as he stood, "Spider-Woman not here to save little bug boy now! Nothing can stop bulletproof skin!"

"Skin..." They couldn't have changed everything, right? His skin was as hard as metal, but not his entire body. If it was he shouldn't have been able to move around or see... "One chance." Standing up higher, he held the baton with one hand and the knife in the other.

Peter ran towards him, ignoring the voice in his head screaming at him to do anything else. Systevich laughed, arms wide open as if to embrace him. The big galoot thought he was invincible. He was going to prove him wrong.

He jumped, landing on the Russian's chest and managing to push him back slightly. Before he could recover his footing Peter tightened his grip on the knife before stabbing it right at his left eye.

It worked. Systevich's cocky smile was replaced by a pained scream. Peter jumped back to avoid his desperate grab and stabbed the electrified tip of the baton towards his remaining eye. Again he got another desperate cry and he dodged the next clumsy blow, "Something wrong, comrade?" He pulled the bloody knife from his eye with a quick tug and stepped back.

One eye sliced through and another burnt beyond use. It almost made him feel sorry for the blue half-portion.

"Y-You son of a bitch! You're dead! Fucking dead!"

"Gonna have to catch me, first." Peter slipped through Ivan's wide and clumsy swipes and shoved the Glock in his mouth.

He pulled the trigger at least 5 times before he was forced back, but it was enough. Systevich was forced on his knees, spitting out blood through his mouth. The internal bleeding would've been enough to kill most people, but he wasn't going to take chances. This time Stacy wasn't here to save his worthless hide.

Peter webbed his arms to his side before he forced his head up, "Do svidaniya." He filled his mouth, nose and throat down with webbing and backed away.

Systevich struggled against his bindings, but he didn't get far before his consciousness faded and he fell on his side, his eyes slowly going blank. If the blood on his throat didn't choke him then the lack of air definitely would. Peter had watched people die before when he could have saved them, but there was something grotesque about the sight in front of him now.

He shook his head. Now wasn't the time for that.

"Police are coming, kid. Whatever you're doing make it fast," Castle said.

"Got it." He made his way to the saferoom Octavius was cowering him. It was odd; after all those prosthesis he used on the Germans back home he was still crippled, still as imperfect and contradictory to his beliefs as he always was. The fear in his face was palpable and Peter was reminded once again of that night 5 years ago. So many things would've been different if he'd just pulled the damn trigger.

He didn't have to say anything before Moon Knight opened the door and Octavius' look of fear got even worse, "W-Wait, Mr. Parker!" He pulled his wheelchair back, looking around desperately for another escape, "B-Be reasonable about this! We can-"

Peter didn't say anything. Without waiting for the coward to finish his pleas for mercy he webbed the bottom of his wheelchair and pulled back with a sudden jerk. Octavius only managed a short scream of surprise before he crashed into the ground, misshapen legs twisting at the sudden shift in angle. All the suffering he caused and he was nothing more than a guy who couldn't even stand up properly.

He stomped on one of his legs, twisting and breaking the already deformed limb even further, "Ahhh! Ah, damn it!" Octavius beat against his leg, but he might as well have been throwing spitballs, "God, please, what do you want?! I'm a reasonable man, we can-"

"Shut up."

He kicked him in the face and his head slammed back on the ground, his nose twisted at a painful angle as blood poured down his nostrils. He was out like a light, "You and me are gonna have a long chat, doc." He picked up the crippled Kraut and carried him over his shoulder. 5 years he lost because of him...he was going to make him pay for all of them.


Peter watched Stuttgart's landmass shrink more and more as the ship made its way to sea. They left behind a mess - dead terrorists parading around like construction workers, Systevich's corpse and the lab with all the data pointing to whatever cabal ran things. There'd be questions and an investigation, but it didn't matter to him. He got what he wanted.

Octavius was in a cargo container; it was the only way to keep the 2 dozen prisoners from inflicting some karma. He didn't disagree, but he needed him alive. He took a deep breath and looked all over the deck. Most of the prisoners were sleeping below, but he caught at least a few walking around or chatting amongst themselves...

...Well, all of em except the girl with the claws. She was sitting on top of Octavius' cargo container with a permanent scowl etched on her face and her claws scratching at the surface of the metal. Something told him that Octavius was responsible for whatever the hell happened to her. Everyone seemed content to ignore her and he was inclined to do the same thing. The way she killed those men indicated training, which didn't bode well.

Lockley sidled up next to him casual as could be, "Well, that was quite an adventure." He leaned across the edge of the railing and gave him a sideways smirk, "The captain was surprised at our extra passengers, by the way. It's more than what he agreed with."

"Yeah, well, he can cry a river for all I care." Peter looked down at the rusted metal with a frown. Despite his words a part of him worried. He had no idea who these people were; all he knew was leaving them down there was a death sentence, "...Where the hell are we going, anyway?" He didn't think to ask before. Mostly he was focused on getting the hell out of that donnybrook.

"Back to New York." He laughed under his breath, "Meeting up with old friends."

"Oh yeah? Who?"

"Yours." Lockley took the phone from Peter's jacket pocket and tapped through the list of contacts, "You got Ock with you, but I don't have what it takes to build the portal. You and I know of only one group that has the means and resources to do that."

"The spooks..."

"Exactly." He handed the phone back and clapped him on the shoulder, "Think of it was a reunion between old friends."

The phone was already dialing by time he looked down. Peter took a deep breath and pressed it against his ear, "Hello? Who is this?" Stacy's voice came from the other end. Peter had to admit hearing her again after 2 months of no contact outside of ads and news reports was hard. The last words he'd ever told her was a warning to stay away from him.

And now here he was about to beg for help.

"Stacy, it's me..."

There was a silence on the other end before she replied, her voice soft and uncertain, "P-Peter, is that you?"

"Yeah...we need to meet."


1st chapter done. See what we can accomplish when we don't waste time with random side-quests :p Noir has Octavius and now he's on his way back to New York so they can tackle the rest of SILK. The rest of the Defenders (sans Felicia) also get more spotlight compared to the main fic since they're Noir's main allies.

And before anyone says anything: yes, Noir is much more murderous than he normally is. He's close to finding a way home and he's less likely to put that at risk for morals, so he kills people be they mooks or Supervillains. And no, Octavius doesn't put up a fight. I wanted to go closest to my original plan and in that plan he didn't go Doc Ock.

Anyway, debating on whether next chapter should be from Gwen's POV or I make this a pure Noir side-story since it does concern him finding a way back. Story should last about 4-5 chapters, barring any epilogues that show how life is back in Earth-90214 if/when he makes it back there.
 
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