Big talking chapter ahead, so just a heads up. Anyway, have some fanart/covers I found. Most are lighthearted, but some of them are pretty interesting:
The third pic in particular drew my attention: Re-imagining 90214-MJ as being more high class and mature like that world's Felicia rather than being the sweet girl next door she was in the Noir canon. It would've been interesting seeing how a relationship/romance between the two would go given the classic film noir bend and the chemistry the two share in the 616-verse.
Also, video on the top 10 alternate Spider-Men:
Top 10 Alternate Spider-Men. Noir got 4th while Gwen got 2nd
Though they made a mistake and called 65-Peter her boyfriend; guess people assume the two were in a relationship given their 616 counterparts and the additional tragedy it adds.
Chapter 43: Shattered Dimensions
His head was pounding.
Peter closed his eyes tightly and took a deep, strangled breath. His wounds still hurt, the cuts at his stomach and side flaring with pain from every single breath he took. He was dimly aware that they'd been closed properly, the crude stitches replaced with sutures that held far more finesse, but right now it did little to help. The painkillers ran out long ago, and he got the distinct feeling asking for more wouldn't have gotten him anything but suspicious looks.
He moved his hands, the sound of the clinking chains reaching his ears again, "This seems familiar..." He opened his eyes and grimaced at the searing bright light that came overhead. There was never a time in his life that he liked attention; always felt he was a deer in the headlights every time strangers looked at him. He didn't know why, didn't really care to. He didn't like getting stared at, that wasn't anything rare.
Then again, it might not have been how
he always was.
Peter adjusted his place on the chair with a low growl, the cuffs digging into his skin uncomfortably. Vibranium, one of the miracle metals of this madhouse(?) that no one could break out of. The scientist in him - one thing they both had in common, he noted with no small amount of annoyance - was curious if that really held up to scrutiny, but now wasn't the time to test it. All he knew was that someone like Gwen couldn't break out of it, meaning he had no chance of doing it himself.
How long had he been here? Even after the drugs wore off everything was still hazy, time passing by in a painful blur. He remembered someone stitching up his wounds while he lied on a bed that smelled of alcohol, remembered being forced into a long-sleeved shirt that covered the tight bandages wrapped around his mid-section, but beyond that the strongest thing that came to mind was the exceeding urge to vomit...and maybe smoke a coffin nail. Whichever came first.
Still, they didn't beat him; he recalled that much, at least. They'd tried to numb his pain with morphine before sewing him up and he distinctly remembered someone yelling to check his vitals and making sure he didn't expire. It wasn't much, but it was a hell of an improvement over Moon's little butcher shop...though, he was pretty sure that the cuffs meant they didn't trust him. He couldn't even muster enough effort to be angry; in their place he would have taken precautions as well, and he always thought that a healthy amount of paranoia was needed no matter what.
...Or at least, it might have been what
he thought. Peter himself? Wasn't sure.
The teen clicked his tongue and looked down at the table with another growl. He did his best not to think about it, but even now Moon's words rang at the back of his head. That body he'd seen...it was his...or maybe the one that belonged to his predecessor. His spider-sense hadn't rang when she'd told him her hypothesis, but it wasn't conclusive. If someone honestly believed something that they thought it was the truth then what was his sixth sense going to say? It only warned him of deliberate lies, when someone tried to claim something as truth even if they knew it wasn't.
But what had transferred over? Memories? Personality? Soul? Didn't know...and it infuriated and plagued his mind to no end.
He tried to move his arms again, more out of habit than any belief in escape. Even if he could get out what then? He didn't know where he was and given the state he was in he didn't like his chances of getting out of here without ending up with a few extra holes running through him.
Peter took a deep breath to calm himself and relaxed his hands. He felt...weird; more than the pain and the uncertainty of his identity. He stared at his hands and focused, almost immediately feeling the telltale chill on his flesh. It was instant: Wisps of smoke covered the pale skin, the hands and the cuffs covering them disappearing in the time it took him to blink. Peter raised an eyebrow and moved his hands again, wincing when the cuffs pulled him back down.
'Right, invisibility doesn't equal intangibility.' He let out a soft breath and scooted closer to the table, hands surging back with another wisp of smoke. It wasn't just the invisibility, though that was the most obvious. Even now he could hear people outside; every footstep, every tap of the wall on the one-way mirror to his left, even the din of voices that blended into one another in some ungodly cacophany. He was pretty damn sure that wasn't intentional, letting their prisoners hear everything they did like the walls were made of cardboard. Another thing he could thank his 'patron' for.
Thankfully he didn't have to wait much longer. He heard the clicking of boots from behind long before the door open with a soft hiss, the voices in front of the one-way glass instantly quieting, "...Nice to see you again." He didn't bother turning his head; he knew who it was by the sound of her voice from earlier.
Maria Hill stopped only when she was next to him on the table and Peter gave her a sidewards glance. She didn't look any different from when he'd seen her last save some dark rings under her eyes; the telltale sign of someone who hadn't gotten enough sleep. She was irritated, though the annoyed frown on her face made that obvious. Honestly he was expecting her to deck him right in the face just for his smarmy remark.
Which made her uncuffing him without a single word all the more surprising.
"...Gotta admit, that wasn't what I was expecting." He rubbed his wrists and watched her sit in the chair across from him. The table wasn't very large, and apart from the occupied chairs the room was barren. It didn't take a genius to figure this was an interrogation room of some sort, and a gang of spooks was worse than the police from back home(?); they didn't even have to pretend they had to follow the rules.
"If you're thinking of attempting an escape, there's no point." She put a folder on the table, keeping its contents covered, "There are-"
"3 agents looking from that mirror, 2 more on the door outside and probably another watching that camera in the corner." He nudged his head to the security camera bolted on the wall, "All of them are probably armed and they'll kill me if I take a single step out of this room." His eyes flicked to her empty shoulder holster, "You're not carrying, though. I'm gonna assume that's to avoid me possibly taking your weapon and shooting my way out."
"Very astute, and a justified response given your behavior." She pressed her lips into a thin line. Not angry, more impatient at the show he'd put on, "You've been very difficult to search for, Mr. Parker. In the two months you've separated from Wilson's protege you've made no attempt to hide your presence, and yet despite this every attempt at finding you ended with no success. It was as if you were a ghost."
"You can thank Murdock for that. Apparently he has enough clout to pull the wool over your eyes." She narrowed her eyes at him and he shrugged, "Wasn't like I asked for his 'protection'. He wanted me for his little cabal and I said no; that was enough for him to redact what 'support' he gave. It's probably how Moon's Frankenstein club found me..." He rubbed the cuts at his mid-section gingerly.
"Matt Murdock...yes, I suppose that would explain it." She tapped a finger on the table and sighed, "This entire night's been a mess, and we have you and your team to thank for it."
"Team?" he asked back, "Dunno what you're talking about, unless you mean Cindy...speaking of which, where is she?"
"If you're talking about Ms. Moon then she's with Agent Wilson and Spider-Woman under questioning." She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a frustrated breath, "Intel we pulled from the site indicates that the leader of S.I.L.K as a whole is Cindy Moon. I'd like to detain the one who was with you, but she claims to be from another dimension and Agent Wilson believes her. "
"Why wouldn't Stars-and-Stripes buy it? You think she nearly got herself killed by that monster for fun?"
"That 'monster', as you call him, is just one of many that managed to escape given the crude course of action your rescuers took." She clicked her tongue, "Thankfully your attacks didn't kill him, albeit he's in critical condition. Perhaps he can tell us more about the experiments that went on in that place," she said, "But besides that, Ms. Moon will be staying here for a thorough questioning. I'm uncertain of her claims and Agent Wilson's belief doesn't reassure me. After all, she isn't the first one to
claim to originate from another world."
Ah, there it was. He knew they'd get to that topic sooner or later, "I take it you don't believe me, then?"
"I believe in facts, Mr. Parker. And the files we pulled from the site did a lot to contradict your claims." They shared a silent look, neither willing to look away or blink first before she spoke up again, "I suppose we should have seen it given the facts we had access to: Infection of the original iteration serum, the corpse exhumed without anyone being any the wiser; in all honesty it should have been clear just from those two facts."
"What? That I came back from the dead?" He scoffed. He wasn't sure if he could ever believe it himself. The only one who came back from being buried 6 feet under was the messiah if you trusted the good book, and he sure as hell wasn't going to get crucified for mankind's sins, "You honestly believe that?"
"I don't know what to believe, Mr. Parker, but as I said I follow the facts. Your...revival is unorthodox; many would say impossible, but couldn't you say the same of an exact copy appearing from an alternate dimension?" she asked. Peter didn't answer, "S.I.L.K's leader seems to believe you underwent some sort of memory transference, though the method eluded her. I've seen recipients of such things before under different methods; hypnosis, drugs...and those are only the most pleasant ones. It's certainly within the ream of possibility that-"
"I'm still me..." He looked away with a scowl. The way she said it, so clinical and clipped, annoyed him. Normally he would have appreciated detached behavior like it, but she talked about him like he was a subject...or victim.
"Of course. Rest assured, Mr. Parker, I don't care about your identity. At the end of the day you're here now and the circumstances surrounding you haven't changed," she said, "Which brings us back to our main point: Those individuals who came to your aid and the Lizard serum that still courses through your veins. Despite being the former iteration of it shares many similarities to its successor and your antibodies still hold the key to curing it."
"Or controlling it...isn't that right?"
A pregnant silence settled over the room; even the voices outside quieted down, though whether it was because they'd overheard him or his new 'gifts' finally decided to turn off he didn't know. Either way it lasted for a few more seconds before she sighed and pulled out a packet of cigarettes from her pocket, offering one to him with an almost pitying look that he definitely didn't appreciate.
He took one and let her light it, even if he was sure it'd taste worse than Lori's brand. Better than the ringing headache.
They sat in silence for another minute, both of them nursing the coffin nails, before she finally spoke again, "Despite the poor first impression I made, Mr. Parker, S.H.I.E.L.D is not some sort of bogeyman." Peter rolled his eyes and took a light drag. He was right; it tasted horrible, "What I told you beforehand was the truth: In you holds the closest thing we have to a cure for innocent people suffering from the effects of the serum 'you' made."
"Trying to guilt trip me won't work, Agent." He tapped the cancer stick on the table, ash spilling on the clear surface, "But go ahead, try. Just answer me one thing first: You get this cure every trace of this serum is wiped off the face of the earth?"
"Would you believe me if I told you yes?" she asked rhetorically. Peter didn't bother giving her an answer, "I won't deny that the serum has applications that would interest many, ourselves included." She ignored his scoff, "We're not looking to turn our agents into monsters, Mr. Parker. Nor do we wish to use it to create super soldiers or shock troopers like S.I.L.K had intended."
"What do you plan to do with it then? Cure cancer?" he asked sarcastically.
"If the research heads that way, then yes." She nodded. His spider-sense was eerily silent, "Of course that's an ambitious undertaking, but the possibility exists. I won't lie to you and say there aren't risks, but we won't experiment on people."
"Except me, you mean?" He smiled wryly.
"The dosage wasn't enough to transform you and I wasn't aware the version of the serum you were given was wrong." She didn't sound defensive; that would have indicated she might have felt guilty. Right now she sounded more like she was stating facts, "We investigated the site of your altercation with The Hand's ninjas. What we found on the scene was telling."
She looked down at his right hand and his mouth twitched. The head of that pajama brigade cut it off, and what came afterwards...,
'It's still mine.' He clenched his hands tightly, fingers digging into his palm. He could still feel, still move his fingers like nothing was wrong even if he was sure his 'real' hand was decomposing in some alley somewhere buried under a ton of snow and bodies.
"What'd you find, then?"
"Nearly nothing, which is more telling than a pile of corpses." She gave a slow exhale, the smoke instantly disappearing into the vents above them, "Everyone in the city knows about what you did because of that amatuer video, but by the time anyone really got there to investigate all the bodies had been taken and your no-doubt severed hand was missing from the scene. Many discounted the video as something made in a green screen, but we have our doubts."
"What's your point? You want your agents to be covered with scales like I was?" He took another cigarette from the packet. It tasted foul, but he preferred to have nicotine in his system rather than without, "Not seeing the draw here."
"Your hand was severed, and it grew back with no long-lasting adverse effects. I can only assume that it's because of the immunity granted by your abilities, however you came upon them." She lit the end of the cigarette with almost practiced ease. Was it common for her to offer cigarettes during interrogation? "If we can isolate the regenerative capabilities then the benefits would be outstanding not just for our agents but also for anyone that's ever lost a limb or an organ."
"So...you want to try and save the world." He smiled down at the table sardonically. She was telling the truth, at least as far as he could tell. And he couldn't deny that the scientist in him found the idea intriguing. Science was always meant to advance and help mankind; wouldn't a cure for every lost limb or deformity count? He knew more than a few war veterans from back home(?) that could've used an extra arm or eyeball.
"Nothing as grand as that. In the end it'll be medicine or tool, the same way a painkiller or the Dyne particles are." Her features softened, however slightly, "I don't expect you to trust me, Mr. Parker. I won't apologize for what I've done, only the methods with how I tried to accomplish it."
"...What's with the good cop act?" He gave her a suspicious look. The older woman didn't so much as twitch, "You already got me chained a few minutes ago, why not just beat me and inject me like you did last time?"
"Agent Wilson ensured that I handle this with a 'gentle touch', as she called it. And I'm pragmatic enough to see when a previous method has failed," she said, "Right now my aim is to ensure your cooperation, and if I can't do so in the quickest manner possible then I'm willing to compromise. The potential in your immunity and the serum at large is more than I can fathom, really. I doubt I'll live long enough to see it come to fruition, but as long as I know it'll benefit eventually I don't care."
"Compelling argument, agent," he said sarcastically. He took a couple more breaths of the cancer stick before he continued, "...Same deal as last time?"
"We'll need to put you in the containment unit again, but besides that there will be changes: Lower dosages, only one injection every week and you're free to leave provided you agree to these terms."
"Sounds reasonable. Suppose the alternative's being detained and experimented on like a guinea pig, right?" She pursed her lips and didn't answer. She didn't need to; the silence was more damning than anything else, "...Fine, I guess I don't have much of a choice either way." He leaned back in his seat and crossed his legs, "Guessing we start as soon as I'm out of this room?"
"Not exactly." Her features softened again, an almost-smile coming and going. It didn't give him any relief, "Your injuries and the experiments you went through while under S.I.L.K's hold still bear investigating and recovery. We already took blood samples and scans while you were unconscious, but it's better to err on the side of caution. We'll contact you again when it's needed."
"Great..." He sighed. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than antagonizing the spooks now that Murdock and this 'Silk' group was gunning for him. "...Is that all?" He couldn't wait to leave this place. After the night he had a pack of (good) cigarettes and some whiskey wouldn't be amiss, and he really needed to get his dog back from Winters before she got it in her head that the babysitting gig was a permanent thing.
"Not exactly."
Hill tapped something on her pocket. Almost immediately the one-way glass was covered in a thick sheet of metal before she made her way to the camera and turged it off with a flick of the switch. Peter raised an eyebrow and kept his mouth shut. It wasn't what he'd call normal, but he doubted she'd try to kill him now that the lights were off; no gun, and she seemed smart enough to know he could snap her neck without her realizing.
"This next part's off the record." She sat back down and crossed her arms, her face stony, "Mr. Parker, the serum isn't the only reason for S.H.I.E.L.D's interest in you. While your antibodies are no doubt valuable, your other abilities bear mentioning-"
"Get to the point. I don't want to hear another sales pitch..."
"We want you to work for us." He waited, mostly for the 'I'm joking' he was sure would come next.
It never did.
"...That's new," he mumbled in lieu of anything else to say. He knew Spi- Gwen was working for this gang of spooks; 'Shield's golden girl', Bullseye called her with no small amount of distaste. Peter didn't hold it against her; even if they didn't really help her at the very least looking like she was being supported kept people from asking questions. It was why so many police officers had an easy time being worse criminals than the ones without badges.
"While I'm personally averse to the idea of recruiting an uncontrolled asset, your abilities are potent. Close to Spider-Woman, even if not as powerful. However, you have one thing she doesn't: You're certainly not afraid to take a life."
"That supposed be a compliment?"
"A statement of a fact. Spider-Woman's abilities are limited by her own personal restraints. While I'd normally commend controlled behavior, it's a liability if someone wants to put a threat down," She slid the folder forward by a slight margin, "I don't know who you truly are, Mr. Parker, and in all honesty I don't care. Your abilities and your lack of hesitation when using them are useful, and that more than anything is enough to garner S.H.I.E.L.D's interest."
"And what makes you think I've got any interest being your attack dog?" he asked back, an eyebrow raised. Still, a voice at the back of his head was already chiding him; what was the point of playing hardball? He'd already spent the past 4 months in this madhouse(?) playing errand boy for everyone - Castle, Spector, Bullseye, Hardy...in the end he was playing into their games no matter how much he complained about it.
"It's an offer, Mr. Parker. Unlike the treatment of the serum in your system this deal is negotiable; both for you and your team."
"My...'team'?" It was the second time she'd said that, and frankly he still didn't get it. Did he have spiderlings like Toomes did while he wasn't looking? Or did the Spider-God decide he needed a helper to help him hobble along.
She opened the folder with a quick flip. Peter looked down at the contents and narrowed his eyes at the assorted pictures, "Felicia Hardy, Marc Spector, Frank Castle, Lana Baumgartner and former agent Lester Crest; though I suppose you know him as Bullseye." She put each picture in a row. Some of them looked far blurrier than the others, "By all accounts none of these 5 are related to one another, and yet when went to secure the facility all of them were present in addition to Spider-Woman. Do you know why that is?"
"Hell if I know..." He shrugged, though he already had a feeling of what she was implying. Still, it wasn't like he believed it; most of them were so self-centered they'd never mount a rescue.
"You, Mr. Parker." She looked him in the eyes, her gaze steely, "Each of them raided a heavily fortified base with only yourself as the common connection. All of them admitted to this, even such individuals as Frank Castle and Lester Crest. Given their personalities it's unlikely they collaborated to shift blame towards you, and I can only take their words at face value. All of them came to rescue you, many of them risking capture either by S.I.L.K or ourselves to do so."
"...So what?" He looked away with a slight scowl. Was she trying to make him feel guilty? Overwhelmed with gratitude? "They came to rescue me, you think that means I control them? That I'm their leader?"
"No, but it does indicate that regardless of their reasons your well-being is a priority for them all." She tapped Lana's picture. Probably her school photo since he doubted she had a mugshot handy, "Ms. Baumgartner is of particular note given her sudden appearance. Spider-Woman aside she's the only one in the group who has metahuman abilities and yet the only information we've gotten of her are mumbled rumors on the streets about a pimp that was supposedly killed by a little girl who 'had grenades for hands'."
"Shouldn't trust rumors. I killed Walsh myself; Lana wasn't happy about not getting the chance to." He didn't need Lana getting a murder charge on her head; they'd wrap it around her neck like a noose. 'Sides, it was easy to believe he'd done it instead of her given his 'record', "What do you want with her, anyway?"
"Myself? Nothing. I'd prefer if she was more under control, and I believe you're the closest thing she has to a guardian with her mother in the hospital and her grandmother neglectful, but beyond that I have little interest. S.H.I.E.L.D isn't in the habit of recruiting children." His spider-sense tingled. A half lie? Not a surprise. She probably wanted her like an attack dog like everyone else, "Frank Castle's also out of my control. Ostensibly he has a previous working relationship with Director Carter and they're no doubt making a deal already."
"So this is all pointless?"
"Not quite." She pushed Moon Knight's and Hardy's pictures forward, "These two are of particular interest. When we found them them the pair had successfully taken down one of the experiments set loose in the facility; they're clearly skilled, even with their lack of abilities. I can make no assumptions about the relationship you three share, but they both mentioned favors owed. If you work for us then their aid can be guaranteed, I'm sure."
"...And Bullseye?" He looked down at his picture. It was odd; it was still the same man, but everything else was different: A focused glare instead of a smile, a prim and proper uniform instead of a leather jacket and a bare forehead instead of his tattoo. Like looking at a different person wearing the same face (bad thoughts...). He had to admit a part of him always doubted his story even if his spider-sense never blared, but seeing the picture put all doubts to rest.
"He's a fugitive, as I'm sure he's told you. Wasn't able to see the wider picture." She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, "None of us here enjoy making deals with the necessary evils, but we all stomach it for the greater good. Crest couldn't see that, could only focus on the things he'd done rather than the fallout of what were to happen if a regime toppled overnight."
"Make a deal with the devil and it'll always come back to haunt you." He looked down at the picture again before giving a frustrated sigh of his own, "...How will this 'contract' work? Do I get a shiny new badge and codename?"
"Nothing so formal." She smiled. It looked more like she wanted to shoot him in the face with her non-existent sidearm, "We give you tasks, and you do them. Some bad news first: Unlike Spider-Woman you won't get official support and sanction; as far as anyone outside this room's aware of you're in no way connected to us in any capacity other than for the serum in your blood. We'll give you discreet assistance as needed, but other than that you're on your own. If you get caught you will be disavowed and denied."
"...Where's the bad news?"
"Very funny." She pursed her lips and clenched her hands. Guess she didn't have to play nice without the camera putting a bead on them, "In exchange you'll be given money and required equipment. You'll also be given a fake identity; it won't change your fingerprints, but you'll have proper records and will no longer be a ghost as far as the system's concerned. It should lower any red flags."
"I don't need money, I can get that some other way. I want two favors instead." She looked at him skeptically but nodded in the end, "First, I want the Parkers protected. Murdock and Moon knew - or at least they think they know - who I am. I don't want them getting caught in this."
"That's already been arranged ever since the fault of the serum was disclosed to the public on Spider-Woman's insistence. The only reason we didn't capture you when you visited the house yesterday was on Agent Wilson's orders." Her lips curled in a frown, "What's your second favor?"
"I want Bullseye released."
To her credit she didn't immediately try to punch him in the face;not that she could have with her every twitch being as subtle as a landslide. She looked at him like he'd grown a second head before letting out a slow breath, "And why, may I ask, do you want us to do that?"
"He risked capture to try and get me out. I'm not just going to leave him." He still couldn't believe they'd come for him, but Hill wasn't lying and what would be the point of fibbing? Even if Cindy was the one who nearly got him and those other people out he couldn't deny that they tried to come for him even if none of them were exactly friends. Maybe they just saw him as a useful tool, but there was a definite honesty in that.
"You understand that you're asking me to release a known fugitive that S.H.I.E.L.D's been searching for a long time now?"
"Oh, please." He rolled his eyes, ignoring the subtle glare she gave him, "He's a guy with a target on his forehead who's well known in the New York underbelly. If you really wanted to find him you would've been banging on his doorstep within a day." He crossed his arms, "You don't really care about him. He messed up your deal with that Latverian tyrant, but I doubt you're really shedding tears."
"Be that as it may, he's still a criminal. Do you honestly think I'd do this?"
"If he's not released then we have nothing else to talk about." He shrugged, "You believed I had some sort of control over them, so I guess it's time to put it to the test: Release Bullseye and I'll make sure he doesn't interfere with whatever it is your little gang of spooks have planned. If he tries to kill an innocent person or one of your agents then I'll shoot him myself. You know I'll do it if I have to..."
"You're insane, Mr. Parker."
"Maybe, but I don't have much left to lose. I could try to walk out of here; I succeed and I'm a free man, I fail and I'm dead. Either way you lose an asset and the closest thing you have to a miracle cure." He took a final coffin nail and lit it with a quick flick, "You've made deals with bad guys before. Just consider me one of them. Bullseye's released under probation or you get nothing from me."
He was honestly expecting her to pull a knife from her boot and shiv him in the throat. Instead she gave an open scowl before slamming a fancy cellphone on the table with much more force than necessary, "Keep this on you at all times. If you or Crest leave New York then your deal is invalidated, is that clear?" She waited for him to nod before she leaned forward, her voice lowered into a harsh whisper, "I'm warning you, Mr. Parker.
Don't test my patience on this."
"Never dream of it." He took the phone from the table and tapped the screen. Two names on the screen: Gabriel Reyes and someone named Daisy Johnson, "...Do I even have to ask?"
"Reyes has been looking for you, and it seems he's made a friend of Amadeus; one of our younger agents. His pleas have been forwarded to us more times than I care to count," She stood up and took the folder, "Agent Johnson will be your handler. Any tasks that we require will be given to her and she'll be the one to brief you on the details. I expect that you afford her proper respect."
"Right..." Well, a new phone. Probably more complicated than the last and had a tracking chip to boot...what else was new?"
He followed her outside the room, halfway surprised she hadn't cuffed him again. The spooks looked at him as they passed, most of them whispering words they thought he couldn't make out,
'Wish I couldn't, either...' His fingers twitched at the another mumbled accusation of 'freak' being thrown his way. Most of the people here probably thought he was one of 'Silk's' escaped experiments.
The room Hill led him to before going off to God only knew where was definitely a surprise. As soon as the door opened all 4 heads snapped to him, their expressions mixed. Lana, Hardy, Spector and Castle...his 'team', if you trusted Hill (he didn't). He took another look around the small room and frowned when he didn't catch sight of Bullseye; probably still in a jail cell somewhere or something. Cindy and Gwen weren't there either, though he was less worried for them; Stars-and-Stripes was probably giving them the spa treatment.
Castle was the first to speak, "Finally." He let out a tired breath and walked past him without another word. Peter looked at his retreating form and rolled his eyes. Typical Castle; the less said the better as far as he was concerned. He was surprised that the reticent bastard even bothered to show up or wait to make sure he was still breathing; there were at least 2 dozen assorted scumbags he could have been killing in all that time.
"It is good to see you well, Spider-Man," Moon Knight said. He had to admit it was odd seeing him without his telltale mask; usually when he was unmasked with was Grant talking, but his behavior was all Spector, "I trust your wounds are not severe enough to impede your physical capabilities? I'm in need of your aid for a task in the coming week and your new gifts would be useful."
"Business already? Can't say I'm surprised." Peter did his best to keep his voice neutral. Spector knew about his new 'gifts'? He wasn't surprised; Koshnu or whatever its name was probably told him, "Fine, I'll be there."
"I hope you're not thinking of ignoring me, Spider," Felica cut in, her tone light. Peter turned his gaze towards her and frowned at the sight of the bruise on her left eye. She caught where he was looking and let out a soft breath, "Calm down, shades and make-up will cover it for the most part. It'll be more troublesome to explain this away to my manager. Speaking of which." Her lips widened into a smirk, "You owe me, Spider. No excuses."
Moon Knight followed Castle's example and left as well, '
Thanks for nothing,' he thought, looking Felicia straight in the eyes, "Make an appointment." He scoffed. The spooks, then Moon Knight and now her. He'd never been this busy back home(?), and he was pretty sure this wasn't the end of it either. Finding Octavius was looking more and more like a pipe dream by the second.
"I said no excuses," she said, her gaze lingering on his face a little too much for comfort.
"...Something wrong, Hardy?"
"No, it's nothing. You're simply different from what I expected under the mask, that's all." Her voice was guarded again. Trying to mask her surprise, but what was the point? Neither of them were wearing their disguises now, "Forgive the cliche, but I can't help but think you look familiar somehow. Have we met before?" She looked at him like he was a curiosity, a piece at a museum to be examined. He hated it.
"Is this your plus 1, Stacy? What a surprise."
"Not that I can remember." He crossed his arms and bit back a frown. The kid (he?) met her a few times during concerts, though he never had the guts to say anything; content to just be Gwen's silent fan like a lovesick little puppy. Honestly, Peter was surprised that the kid's (his?) face even registered in her mind for him to be considered familiar. Before that night at prom he wasn't exactly attention-grabbing.
"Hmm, suppose not." She shook her head and clapped his shoulder. The gesture was friendlier than he expected, "Warehouse in a few days, Spider. Don't forget."
And with that Felicia was gone too. Peter watched her go before turning his attention to the other remaining occupant in the room. Lana sat on the floor, knees tucked to her chest and a hood pulled over her head. He couldn't see any injuries on her, the band-aid on her cheek seemingly more precautionary than anything else. She wasn't looking at him, content to trace circles on the floor with her pointer finger.
He sat next to her without a word, letting the seconds tick by slowly. She wasn't talking; that was more telling than anything else. He hadn't known her for long, but he did catch on that the kid liked to get the last (curse) word in whenever possible. Which made the awkward silence all the more notable.
Eventually she sighed and punched the wall behind her lightly, "...You okay?" she asked.
"Feel like I should be asking you that." He gave her a small smile; the first genuine one since he'd been dragged to this spook base, "...You know, I gotta admit I wasn't expecting you to be here." She gave him a confused look and he shrugged, "Look, I know why the others did it. Castle figures this makes us even for his whole family business while Spector and Hardy didn't want to lose their new errand boy. But what about you? This just payback for that thing with Carter?"
"No...well, yeah. Kinda." She let out a frustrated breath and pulled down her hood, mussing up her hair in the process, "Look, I'm not gonna say my debt's fucking paid or that you owe me for anything, okay? I came because I didn't want you to die and, well..." She bit her lower lip before taking a deep breath, "I dunno, I guess I thought we were friends. I mean you're buddies that crazy bald dude and I figure why the fuck not."
"Friends..." He let out a wry laugh. Honestly the idea of it was silly even though he could appreciate the gesture. They'd met in a fight club, he'd nearly let her mom die and did his damndest to ditch her while he was looking for Carter. If that was her standard for friendship then she must've been desperate, "You got a weird view of friends, Lana. Do you usually meet your pals hunting for serial killers?"
"Only on Wednesdays." She clicked her tongue and gave a small smile of her own, "Hey, trust me; if that bald dude can say he's doing this cause you're his best friend then I think I got a pretty good chance to be in the running." She scooted closer till their shoulders were touching. He found the gesture oddly comforting, "But hey, the next time you get kidnapped by terrorists can you have someone else besides Moon Guy ask for help? My grandma nearly got a heart attack."
"No promises."
"Hey...you know Captain America talked to me." She looked up at the ceiling and tapped her knees with both hands, "Warned me about the danger of doing vigilante work and that my powers means I have to be responsible. All that bullshit," She let out an exaggerated breath, "Then she tells me that if I still want to use my powers to help people when I turn 18 that I should join S.H.I.E.L.D."
"They only think it's wrong when someone else does it," he replied, "You thinking of accepting?"
"Hell if I know. I mean it's 3 years away, and I wanna talk to my mom about it first. She still hasn't woken up, and I've got a hell of a story to tell." Her smile faltered, "...Hey, if they offered you a deal like that - joining Captain America's group with Spider-Woman - would you take it?"
"You saw how busy how I was. I don't need another collar on my neck." She didn't need to know about his deal with Hill. Best case scenario only Bullseye would have to know, "Go be a superhero if you want, but it's not my thing."
"Says you." She laughed under her breath, "Well, if you haven't changed your mind in 3 years then I guess that's my answer, too. You haven't steered me wrong so far..."
3 years...did she really expect he'd be here for that long? His search for Octavius was slow, but 3 years seemed...he didn't want to think about it. Bad enough Moon made him confused, he didn't need to think about the future he couldn't affect.
"Yeah...sure thing, kid."
"Don't call me that."
Well...this was awkward.
Gwen rubbed her arms and looked around the brightly lit hall she was walking down on. The last few hours were a blur: Wrangling some of the escaped experiments, answering S.H.I.E.L.D's questions, Cap's little Q and A session on how much she remembered on what happened and why she didn't call them sooner and bla bla bla. Honestly it was all mixing together and she couldn't really focus too much on a specific thing.
It didn't help that she felt hungry enough that she could eat a horse.
Her eyes drifted to the quiet teen(?) walking next to her. It wasn't the first time she'd seen her, but she hadn't said much to Gwen besides her name in the two hours they spent waiting inside the room Cap designated for them. She mostly talked with Cap, and even then it concerned the experiments that she apparently had a lot of knowledge about. The most Gwen could remember was that her name was Cindy Moon and she was one of S.I.L.K's victims.
Oh, and she was a dimensional counterpart of their leader. Cause why the fuck not? Apparently her world was a combo platter or something.
She eyed the young woman warily. Cindy didn't look much older than her, and her clothes seemed to only emphasize how out of place she looked. Compared to Cap's costume and her own new...thing the other girl was wearing a dull gray turtleneck, a pair of oversized jeans and some sneakers. S.H.I.E.L.D definitely needed to change out their 'loaned clothes for victims' bin or something.
She knew from experience that dimensional counterparts could be nothing like one another, but she couldn't stop the slight feeling of suspicion that lingered. She couldn't tell liars like Peter, so for all she knew this was just some long con and she was planning her dastardly trap of doom. Then of course Gwen felt awful cause Cindy looked like a kicked puppy with that slight limp of hers and she was right back at the beginning.
Still, if she really was planning a trap of some kind then she liked to think she was better prepared for it with this...whatever it was attached to her.
Gwen stared at her right hand and wiggled her fingers. Apart from the fact that she was going to eat her way through her backlogged salary - which she didn't even know was a thing till Cap told her a couple of hours ago - she felt great. Her limbs felt lighter, and even every step had far more balance to it than she normally had. Honestly she knew she should've been more paranoid, but right now she couldn't see anything to be jumpy about...except maybe the tentacles. Those would be a problem once the rest of her friends found out.
Cap told her to be careful, and that someone would be casing her apartment even after the testing they did later. According to her she'd seen something similar back when she was doing the dimension hopping thing. Sometimes it was an alien monster hellbent on destruction, other times it was the cure for cancer and just about any disease left on the planet. Which version she got was honestly a crapshoot, but considering she wanted to eat chocolate more than someone's foot she put the 'cannibal monster' choice out.
'...Wonder where my costume went?' She looked down at her chest and tugged on the 'fabric'. It didn't feel like the usual suit she wore; matter of fact it felt almost like a second skin instead of a costume right now,
'...This thing better not have fucking ate my webshooters. Janet's gonna be pissed if it did.' She sighed and stuffed her hands into her pockets (she had those now...though they disappeared when her hands weren't in pocket-stuffing distance) as she continued to walk.
It didn't take them long to reach the place Cap called them out to. Gwen stared at the metal door with a hint of hesitation, a sudden warmth flooding her stomach. She rarely got nervous whenever she put on her mask, especially now that there was a possible alien that might have been the cure for cancer on top of it, but the mumbled arguments that she heard behind the doorway was enough to cause her to pause.
"...I'm not the only one who hears that, right?" Cindy looked at her worriedly, "I really don't want to get into another fight again. I just wanna collapse and fall asleep for the next week."
"We gotta face the music sometime, right?" Gwen did her best to give a reassuring smile (that she couldn't see cause of the mask...) and pushed the door open.
She had to say, even after all the surprises she'd gotten used to seeing, the sight of Peter and Captain America looking like they were about to get into a fistfight was definitely something new,
'...Uh-oh.' Peter looked a hair's breath away from decking her in the face while Cap...well, she'd seen her angry before, but it never stopped being scary considering how calm the older woman usually was.
So she did the first thing that came to mind.
"Hey, are we crashing the party?"
Make stupid jokes and hope everyone forgot why the fuck they were so mad.
It seemed to work...at least as much as they stopped glaring at each other and gave the dead-eye to her instead, "Woah, hold the fire. Really not liking the glare-off." She raised her hands awkwardly, the warmth in her stomach growing hotter. She found it oddly comforting, "Look, Cap, you call us and Cindy over here for...something, so I'd really appreciate not looking like party crasher to steals all the dip."
Cap let out her telltale 'heh' and Gwen found herself calming. It wasn't a guffaw, but she was going to get there one day, damn it! "Sorry about that, Spider-Woman. Just...having a talk with Mr. Parker here." She gestured to Peter, who muttered something under his breath that she couldn't make out, "We...found some information in S.I.L.K's databases that was worrying."
"She's just gonna take it the wrong way..." Peter mumbled. Before she could ask what he meant he walked towards Cindy and tapped her on the arm lightly, "Cindy, are you okay? Did they think you were-"
He was interrupted when she pulled him into a sudden hug, the contact lasting for only few seconds before she separated from him with an awkward laugh, "Um...yeah, I'm fine. They just asked a lot of questions, but the Captain there believed me. Said something about being experienced with this sort of thing? She gave a confused shrug, "Honestly, I'm just glad they didn't think I was my evil twin. Got way too much of that already."
"You and me both. I'm glad that you-"
Gwen coughed loudly, "Nice to see you too, Pete. You know, me, Gwen..." She tried to ignore the bubbling annoyance she felt. She knew their relationship wasn't the best, but really? Not even a 'Hi, thanks for rescuing me. Hey, what happened with your costume?' or anything?
"I...heard you helped to rescue me. Thanks..." He rubbed the back of his head and looked away. Gwen raised an eyebrow; that was definitely
not normal. Normally he'd have a biting insult ready, or at the very least he'd scoff and tell her that her jokes weren't funny. Now he looked almost...nervous? She'd never seen Peter nervous- well, at least not him. Her best friend could stutter worse than a guy high on cocaine sometimes.
"Given her involvement, she deserves to know," Cap cut in, her tone insistent, "I understand your hesitation, but you can't just hide the truth-"
"What is the truth? Huh?" he snapped back. She saw his fists shaking, his voice slowly growing louder, "How do you even know what that bitch said has any grain of truth to it? She could have just been deluded."
"Or maybe she had a point. Either way we gain nothing from keeping Gwen in the dark."
He muttered another curse under his breath and looked away again, "Fine, do what you want. Not like you were ever going to listen to me anyway."
"I don't listen because-"
"Alright, to nip this in the bud before we get into a slap fight," she interrupted quickly, "Whatever it is you have to tell me, just...just say it, okay? I mean after everything that's happened I can fucking deal with it, okay?" She looked at them both in turn, hoping that they could tell her expression from under the new mask, "So just...you know, hit me with your best shot and let's see what-"
"We have reason to believe he's really the Peter Parker of this world."
...
What?
She looked at Peter. This was the point where he'd given some snarky rebuttal or call her deluded for believing that he had anything in common with 'that mad scientist'. Instead there was...nothing. Nothing but the utter silence and a scowl so deep it looked like it was etched on his face He still refused to look at her, and Cindy just looked between them like she wasn't sure what she should do.
"Cap...h-how did you-"
"We opened up a cache of files. Your raid was unexpected enough that Ms. Moon - the other one - wasn't able to delete everything. Safehouses and operations were wiped, but some files on the experiments remained." She gave a meaningful glance to Peter, "Ms. Moon had been conducting experiments on the original Spider-Man that was taken over and then..." She took a deep breath, "Then he expired months ago."
"Expired? Wh-What do you mean 'expired'!? He's right there! He's-"
"Not the same one. We found the original one in a capsule..." Cap shook her head, "I told you before that this world's Peter's body was exhumed, and...he's standing right in front of you now." She pinched the bridge of her nose. She sounded like she couldn't believe what she was saying either, "Even Moon herself was confused, but she noted that it was memory transference. Someone or something...reanimated his body and implanted the memories of his predecessor to him. It would explain his lack of aging and why his memories are blending together. The new memories aren't mixing well with the ones that are truly his."
"S-So you mean he's-"
"She's making guesswork." Peter growled, "Moon didn't understand the process. She thought it was a science experiment, that everything can be explained away eventually. But there's no way you can scientifically explain someone coming back from
death, Gwen. Just because she and Stars-and-Stripes think that's what happened doesn't mean it's the truth."
"What's the other option, kid? That you're a body snatcher? That you stole that body or that spider bite transferred your
soul over? I've seen a lot of things, but we have to be rational; or as close as we can be in this situation." Cap clicked her tongue, "Look, I'm just following the facts and given your presence here, the blend of memories and the dead body frozen in that capsule we can safely rule out that you're from another dimension. Your memories might say so, but they don't change the hard facts."
The pair were arguing again, but she couldn't hear them. She took shaky steps towards the nearby chair and practically collapsed on top of it, her breathing shaky. Months she'd thought - hoped - that he was her best friend, that her mistake could be undone. After months of separation she'd finally accepted that maybe he was right, that it was wrong for him to put all her expectations on him just because she wanted to make up for what she did.
Now...she was
right. Shouldn't she have been happy? Peter was there. He was different, he might never have been the same again, but he was
alive. Wasn't that...wasn't it worth it, then? All the trouble, all the arguments and fights they'd had? He was alive, even if...
"...Could you two leave us alone for a bit? Peter and I need to talk," she mumbled, voice so soft that it was a miracle anyone heard her.
"Of course..." Cap gave her a solemn nod and gestured for Cindy to follow. The young woman looked at Peter for a moment, her expression uncertain, before he eventually nodded and offered her a strained smile.
She waited until both of them were gone before she stood in front of him. Peter refused to turn away, but his glare lacked the usual bite it normally had,
'It's really him...isn't it?' She reached a hand out and touched his cheek, Peter flinching away from the contact with a soft hiss like he'd been burned, "..Is...I can't believe this is real. It's really you, like Cap said?"
"Or his body...we don't know what that spider did." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing her hand down gently before he continued, "...You know this doesn't change anything. I'm still-"
"What do you mean this doesn't change anything!?" She took off her mask with a quick tug and looked him in the eyes, "Peter, do you know what this means!? It means you belong in this dimension! That this is your home! That you're not an outsider or that-"
"Everything I knew was a lie? That the 4 months I spent trying to find a way home was pointless? I'm not seeing the bright side here, Gwen..." He let out a shaky breath and crossed his arms, his lips quivering, "Imagine finding out that everything you knew might never have been true. Imagine if one day you woke up and you suddenly found out you weren't Gwen Stacy, that you're just someone who deluded herself into thinking she was?"
"Peter..."
"I can't be happy about this, Gwen. Maybe you think this a miracle, that somehow this erases your worst mistake, but I can't. All I know now is that I might have been fooling myself..." He wiped away a few leaking tears stubbornly and coughed, "...I'm sorry if you hoped this was going to be the heartwarming reunion, but I can't be the kid who followed after you like a little puppy or Ben and May's precious little boy."
"I'm not asking you to be that..." As soon as the words were out of her mouth she felt like she'd spewed out a pile of bullshit. She did want her best friend back..., "...What happens now?"
"I don't know. I need some time to think..." He sighed, "This isn't goodbye, not like last time. I'll still be around, but...you can't tell Ben and May. It's bad enough that they're clinging to the hope that I'm their precious little Peter, but finding out who I am...what they're little boy turned into...it'll break them. Promise me you won't tell them, Gwen."
"I...I ca-"
"
Promise me." He grabbed both her hands, his expression desperate. She'd seen him like that before, right when...she shook her head. She didn't want to think about it.
"...Alright, I won't." She saw his face sag in relief, a forced laugh escaping him. She wished she could say she felt the same, but now...now all she saw was her best friend. Close enough to touch, close enough to see every single tear that he stubbornly ignored, but changed so much that he might as well have been a stranger to her.
She leaned forward and kissed him. Peter's eyes widened, but he made no effort to pull back or push her away. Gwen closed her eyes and...focused. The gesture was awkward and stiff for both of them, and his grip on her shoulders was so light that if she moved even slightly she would have knocked his hands away. Eventually she clenched her hands and stepped back, her breath shaky.
"...What was that for?"
"I dunno...guess maybe I thought it'd do something. My entire life feels like a fucking comic book, I thought that..." That what? That a kiss could magically solve all their problems even if they didn't care that way about one another? That maybe he felt the same way he did before all this mess began and she wanted to take advantage of that? She didn't know...
"I'm not Snow White." He gave her a sardonic smile, "Sorry, Gwen...we don't get happy endings."
"Yeah...guess not." She gave him a bitter smile of her own. Her best friend in front of her, and he might as well have been another guy on the street for all the good it did her.
Sometimes she wondered if life just wanted to fuck with her.
Whoo, this chapter was long than usual considering nothing really happened :/ Anyway, remember why I asked if you considered the characters still human? Yeah, as of the latest chapter Noir's a reanimated zombie while Gwen's bonded with some kind of freak-suit. So...still fully human? You be the judge, I guess.
Anyway, that arc's done. Back to the usual structure; choose which new arc you prefer among the two and I'll write which one:
1. The 'Storm Killer' arc - Tragedy strikes when child stars Susan and Franklin Storm are targeted by a deranged supervillain obsessed with the idea of ending their lives! It's up to Gwen and Peter to find the mysterious PaperDoll before two innocent lives are lost to her madness! Primarily Gwen POV - which has been rather lacking in the past chapters - and features more of a lighthearted tone to contrast the extremely grim Sin Eater and S.I.L.K arc. Could also feature the long-awaited appearance of Howard the Duck.
2. The 'PGH' arc - Peter's investigation into a seemingly harmless drug escalates when he finds out just how deep the rabbit hole goes and what people are willing to do for even a taste of power; how far are he and Gwen willing to go to stop it? Primarily Noir POV and continues the cynical tone of the previous arcs, and features more film noir narration as seen in the previous Sin Eater conflict. Also features a figure from Gwen's past who's trying to make amends for his mistakes.
Just pick your poison, I guess, though the PGH arc is a tad more related to the main story while the Storm Killer arc is more of a lighthearted romp with the stakes not being as ultra grim as last time.
