In all honesty this would probably be the one time Noir wouldn't be pissed at Harry given that his own emotional state is currently at the tipping point, especially given that he also has to try and help Gwen deal with her own first kill jitters while having identity issues. Dude's a walking mental case right now.
Through the Looking Glass (Spider-Gwen/Spider-Man Noir Crossover)
- Thread starter Eratas123
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In all honesty this would probably be the one time Noir wouldn't be pissed at Harry given that his own emotional state is currently at the tipping point, especially given that he also has to try and help Gwen deal with her own first kill jitters while having identity issues. Dude's a walking mental case right now.
Madou Sutegobana
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Spider Man: "You do understand the purpose of cursing is to propose something unpleasant befall others, Right?"
Him and Teresa have equal votes while Harry's left in the frigging dust.
Saying 'fuck me' is a common enough curse when someone's frustrated.
Loktarogar
The Apex of Cuddling
- Location
- Brazil
Woah...this was intense! Great chapter, sorry about the late response I was out the whole day
I vote for Teresa, I want to see her interaction with Peter now after the revelation.
I vote for Teresa, I want to see her interaction with Peter now after the revelation.
Madou Sutegobana
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So I've noticed. I read Worm and Worm fanfiction, it still strikes me as a ridiculous way to curse though.
Teresa's got a slight edge now, though George only needs one vote to be the next interaction point. My friend did comment on how weird it was that these two ignore one another during their shared scenes given their mutual connection to Gwen and her double life. The fact that George says nothing about his daughter's best friend/main trauma/first motivation for heroing being alive struck him as bizarre.
I thought the same when I was like 14, but 'fuck me' is a pretty good general curse when you're not insulting someone in particular. Kinda like 'shit' or whatever.
Not really expecting an answer given my current track record, but maybe I'll get lucky. With regards to the Lizard serum: should I place more focus on it in Noir's segments to help differentiate him from Spider-Man, especially with how it affects his character/mental state? Or do I just leave it since it's still an exampled of the poorly received 'superpowered evil side' trope?
Loktarogar
The Apex of Cuddling
- Location
- Brazil
Hmm, go ahead put more focus in the Lizard Serum, you have a point of making it differentiate from the Vanilla Noir Spider-Man.
Madou Sutegobana
Autocorrupt has been disabled.
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I would reccomend against it, not because its wrong to try to improve oneself, but because the formula has a track record of washing away the higher reasoning of its users. It's rather unwise to rely upon it without at least trying to correct the side effects.
I don't mean Peter using it deliberately but rather show that it's starting to affect him. We see in the latest chapter that the voice was getting harder to ignore and altering his behavior. We also know that the serum can punch through immunity and suppressants dependent on the the user's mental state; and given Noir's current mental state it'd probably start surfacing and driving him towards mental insability.
For example: being more brutal, violent and at times animalistic. In this scenario Murdock even comments that when he gets angry he starts growling and acting like a rabid dog before he regains control.
Loktarogar
The Apex of Cuddling
- Location
- Brazil
Yeah, this is what I was talking about.
I figured, but I wanted to reply to you as well
Anyway, it gives him common ground with the Carnage Host (not hard to figure out who it is among the current characters) on trying to rein in their violent and murderous impulses.
Chapter 79 - Peter and Gwen
Surprise Earlier than my previous updates, but I guess I was feeling inspired (read: there were no action scenes so it was way easier to write). Took me a little under a day to get this done, so hopefully the quality persists.
Alright, fair warning now: this chapter is angsty as shit and filled with soap opera BS, so if you're feeling tired of angst then this chapter (and many future ones...) are not for you. Then again given how the last chapter ended we can't really expect otherwise.
Anyway, the choice between Captain Stacy and Teresa were really close, but the ol' Captain eventually won out with literally 1 vote and I picked him. Don't worry, due to the amount of votes Teresa got I decided to put in a modified version of the scene she originally had with Peter in a later chapter. It won't be exactly the same, but it should have the same essence.
...Harry only got 1 vote though, so nothing for him :X
Chapter 79: Peter and Gwen
"Reports from crews on the scene confirm that that any and all of the mysterious attackers are no longer a threat and S.H.I.E.L.D has currently quarantined specific areas around the city. Current statistics indicate that the number of killed is currently in the hundreds with many more injured, though final numbers are currently unknown. We'll give more information as the story develops-"
Peter shut the TV off and tossed the remote into the corner. He didn't even know why they'd turned it on; maybe they thought the white noise would drown out their thoughts, but considering every channel was hijacked to talk about was rapidly dubbed 'The Incident' that was clearly a bad idea.
That's what it was now: an incident, a tragedy, an affront to everything decent and human as people knew about it. People died every day, but now it was right out there in the open where people couldn't ignore it and it was done by another freak with powers. Nothing new there, but this time Spider-Woman or Stars-and-Stripes or Spinnerette or God only knew who else couldn't save the day with a fancy pose and a clever quip.
Now the city was left to pick up the pieces. Burying their dead, licking their wounds and then finding someone to blame now that that the monsters were gone - maybe the heroes they admired so much for not getting their fast enough, maybe the police and the government for not being able to anticipate it or maybe their neighbors because of whatever reason they could conjure. This place had a track record for misappropriating blame.
And where were Spider-Man and Spider-Woman? Holed up in a house at the suburbs trying to get away from it all.
Peter looked away from the rainsoaked window towards the only other occupant in the room. Gwen sat at the bed with her knees tucked to her chest, her gaze blank and her body eerily still. He caught the suit shifting slightly, but apart from that she might as well have been a statue. He himself sat at the windowsill, his attention focused on the raindrops that pattered against the glass. Anything to distract himself.
They were at Gwen's room; the last place anyone would look for a Superhero and a vigilante. They couldn't stay in the city - too many reporters looking for answers, too many wounded who looked at them with wide, scared eyes while others still looked at them like they were worthless. Why hadn't they done more? They had powers, why did they let it get so far?
Peter sincerely wanted to tell them to go to hell. It was Times Square all over again...
Neither of them said a word to the other ever since they left the factory. Shadowcat and the...other one were gone by the time they left, but he got the feeling that he'd see them again. Life had a way of turning around and kicking him in the gut when he least expected it. At least he knew the others were alright: they'd all managed to avoid getting killed or detained by the police, at least.
It was funny - he'd known Gwen for nearly half a year now and it was the first time he'd actually been in her room. The entire place was almost barren - as to be expected considering she didn't really live here anymore - but he still saw a few signs that made the room unmistakably 'Gwen Stacy': a cabinet filled with messy rock clothes, posters of bands he couldn't even pronounce on the wall and a blanket of that 'Trek Wars' she and the Parker kid...he liked so so much.
His...
He shut his eyes tightly and took a deep breath. He'd always considered it a possibility, and Gwen certainly nudged him towards the idea enough, but there was always some doubt, some crack or hole that he could justify alternatives. Now those were gone and he was left with was the overwhelming realization that he'd been playing the part of the clown who didn't know the joke.
Gwen shifted on the bed and lied down to look up at the ceiling, the noise almost deafening within the quiet confines. He expected another bout of silence before she suddenly spoke up, "I recognized him," she said, her voice so soft he almost didn't hear him.
"...What?"
"That murderer...I knew him." She covered her eyes with her right wrist and took another shuddering breath, "He...I found him when he was still normal. He and his girlfriend gutted a hospital and I..."
"Gwen, you don't have to-"
"I could've ended it right there, right? That's what you always say - One guilty person's life for two or ten or a hundred innocent people. God, we argued about it so fucking much and look at us now. I talk a big game about how there's always another way, that we don't have to kill and now..." She let out a choked cry and turned to the side to face away from him, "You were right...all those people are dead because of me-"
"Enough. Just...stop blaming yourself for everything. Hardy was right about one thing: you got a Messiah complex bigger than the grand canyon."
"That's-"
"You're only human, Gwen. Every time something bad happens you always twist it around to try and take responsibility for it. When are you are gonna get it through your skull that people are responsible for themselves? It's not your fault that the spooks went behind your back, it's not your fault you couldn't be everywhere at once to save everyone and it wasn't your fault that I died!"
She didn't say anything. With obvious reluctance Peter stood from the windowsill and sat at her back anext faced opposite her. He couldn't bear to look at her; not after everything that's happened. He didn't need her looking at him with those tearstained eyes of hers...
"...You can't do that," she said eventually.
"Do what?"
"You can't be Peter - my Peter - just when it's convenient for you. You can't tell me you're not him and then say you are just to make a point." He felt a painful stab in his chest at the accusation in her voice, "Y-You can't just-"
"I'm sorry..." Thoughts of anything else he could say came and went, but ultimately he kept quiet. What was he supposed to say? That he'd found proof? That the real Spider-Man was back from the dead like he was? The last thing she needed was something else to worry about, damn what he thought. He'd dealt with trauma before he could do it now. It wasn't like he hadn't considered it, after all...
"No you're not." The bitterness in her tone caused another painful stab in his chest, "Fuck, look at us. We're arguing again, always trying to hurt each other. I don't even know why we're doing it anymore."
"Neither do I..."
Peter looked up at the ceiling and clenched his right hand. They fought, they hurt one another, but in the end they always came back despite how angry and miserable they could get. Anyone else would have thought that they were both insane. At times he wondered if they would've cared about one another if it wasn't for the faces underneath the masks; if they weren't Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy.
"...I'm sorry, that wasn't fair-"
"Rarely ever is, Gwen..." He smiled bitterly and let out a wry laugh, "We survived...some people would consider that a victory."
"I don't feel like a winner right now..." She grit her teeth and let out a soft growl, "S.H.I.E.L.D was the one who made that monster and they're not going to admit it, we both know that. God, I'm such a fucking idiot. I thought they were the good guys, that they could do no wrong, but this...hundreds died and they're not going to admit it. They'll blame it on S.I.L.K or Red Skull or whoever and say it's for the greater good. Fuck..."
"...You alright?"
"No." She curled closer on herself as if she was trying to disappear into the blankets, "Peter, I...I killed someone. Maybe...Maybe that's not a big deal for you or dad or Jess or anyone else, but I...I never thought I'd have to do it. Ever since you...since Peter died I made a promise that no one would die as long as I could stop it. I...I made a promise that I'd-"
"An impossible promise, Gwen..." He sighed. Talking about this with her was never pleasant, "...Look, I'll be blunt: promising that no one dies when you're around is like promising world peace or that you can change human nature. Sometimes...Sometimes people have to die so others can live. I'm not gonna claim that every person I put down I did cause I had no other choice, but it's happened before."
"Like when?"
"...Maxine." She shifted slightly behind him, "Maybe you'd disagree, but I didn't have a choice. She was...I couldn't stop her and she turned a bunch of firemen to ash right in front of me along with God only knows who else. Who knows, maybe you or some other hero would've been able to stop her but I couldn't exactly wait around for the cavalry. So I did what I had to."
"We shouldn't have to do that...it's not fair." she muttered bitterly.
"If life were fair neither of us would have to put on masks." And he wouldn't even be alive. He'd still be dead while Spider-Man ran around like a headless chicken playing vigilante while the world erupted to war around him. All that power and the best he - they - could do was to stop a bunch of crime bosses. Peanuts compared to what really mattered and nothing either of them could change when...if they went back.
"...Fuck, I hate this." She gripped the blanket tightly and she heard the sounds of tearing cloth, "Webster's dead, Peter! Just this morning we were having breakfast with dad and Jess and now..." The suit shifted in a chaotic hum, "Now it's dead and I'm stuck with a suit I don't even know how to control! Do you know how scared I was to even hug my dad? I thought if I wasn't careful I'd snap his spine or...or-"
"Gwen-"
"That's not even the worst part," she spoke over him, "I...when I killed that bastard, I-I-I enjoyed it! It..It was only for a few seconds, but I thought about all the people he killed, about Webster, about Lana and about...about you." She bit her lower lip and shut her eyes, "I thought he deserved to die, that he deserved worse after everything he did. All the people he's killed, the people he left behind to cry over their loved ones and-"
He forced her up and pulled her into a tight embrace. Gwen gasped and for a second he thought he thought that he would push her off, "Peter..." She wrapped her arms around his back, her touch soft and barely felt. She was afraid of hurting him.
"It's alright, Gwen..." He didn't believe it himself, but he had nothing else he could say. He didn't know what to do - it wasn't like with Lana those months back. She'd killed someone for the first time, but she was raised in the dregs of Hell's Kitchen; eventually she would've been broken down, much as neither of them wanted to admit that. Gwen was an idealist who sincerely believed; a dying breed both here and back...back at that place.
She buried her head at his shoulder and cried. Peter could only hold her close and hope that she couldn't tell how uncertain he was.
Eventually her crying softened into sniffles and she pulled back slightly, "I...I don't know what to do, Peter. Webster's gone and after everything...I-"
"You're still you, Gwen," he muttered, "I know you can't see it, but look at all the people you saved. Those monsters died when you stopped that madman, so think of that. All those people are still alive because of you."
"Its hard..." She bit her lip and looked down, "...What am I supposed to do now, Peter? I swore to myself that I'd never kill anyone and I broke that. Now I-"
"Now what? You have to kill everyone? Killing is always an option now?" He scoffed, "Gwen, it's not a one-way street. You don't have to be like Castle or Bullseye or...or me." He looked away from her, "You don't have to change, Gwen. The kid's gone and things are bad - we both know it is - but it doesn't mean you crossed a line you can't come back from. And if you need help you have your dad, your friend and...and me."
"For how long?" She turned away and frowned, "You said we you were going back...did you change your mind?" she asked, her voice hopeful. Tell her, a part of him said, tell her now. He opened his mouth but no words came. He couldn't tell her; not now, not like this. Instead he turned away and didn't say a word, "...Thought so." The smile she gave him was obviously forced. He wanted it gone.
Peter turned around and made to leave; there was nothing could do for her. He was halfway to standing up before she suddenly grabbed his right hand with her left in another gentle grip, "Stay with me..."
It wasn't just a request for him to stay that one night, and they both knew it. Peter looked down at their intertwined hands: his arm still held traces of green scales and hers was still blackened into the same material as the rest of of her suit. Another reminder of what they had to give up to put that madman down, of how close they were to turning into monsters just to survive.
"Gwen-"
"Please."
...He could never say no to her.
He wanted to stay.
Peter looked up at the ceiling blankly while Gwen slept next to him, her expression calm and finally at peace for the first time since he'd seen her today. The clock told him it was only a little past 2 in the morning, though as expected he was already wide awake. Just another night of little to no sleep...except now he didn't have his stockpile of whiskey to keep him company.
He wanted to stay.
He turned to the side and looked at Gwen. She was fast asleep, though the suit still continued to move with the occasional spasm. Without the kid to keep it under wraps it'd be hard for her to keep going as she did. He promised her he'd be there to help but what did he really know about that thing? He could barely keep his own mental problems in order. It was a miracle he wasn't a gibbering wreck yet.
He wanted to stay.
'...Damn it.' He turned away from her. It wasn't a sudden realization - there was no lightbulb that went above his head or a giant epiphany that suddenly changed everything. He knew it all along, even if he didn't want to admit it: this world - this madhouse - it frustrated the hell out of him, drove him insane...but a part of him didn't want to leave. Maybe he was just as mad as everyone else, but there it was.
And now he had the perfect excuse...right?
'Hah, right...like it's that easy.' His entire life was a lie; that wasn't something he could just shrug off. Peter gave one last glance to the sleeping young woman before he put on his shoes and stood. Gwen would've been disappointed that he ducked out early but he couldn't stay here, not now. He needed to clear his head, get...whatever he had left under control.
The window opened easily enough and he jumped, landing in the back garden with a dull thud - thankfully the rain had finally stopped. Peter clenched his hand as a sudden jolt of pain ran up his right arm, "Ah..." He gripped his right wrist tightly and grit his teeth to keep himself from screaming.
The pain passed eventually and he groaned, "Damn poison..." He wiped the sweat off his brow and and made his way to the front street. Maybe going back home would clear his head.
He stopped when he saw the dim lights on the Parker house. His aunt and uncle - his parents, really - were still awake. A part of him was tempted to run over there now and confess everything, to apologize for the way he'd treated them and for all the trouble he'd caused. Instead he just stood there and watched the house in the middle of the street like a goddamned idiot.
His hand moved on its own and dialed Ben's number.
"...Hello, who's this?" Peter closed his eyes and pursed his lips. He sounded the same always, but after today it wasn't easy to treat him like he was a stranger, "Um, hello? Is anyone there-"
"Ben." It was odd calling him that now. He heard a gasp and a slight fumble before Aunt May's voice became audible as well; must've put it on speakerphone, "...You there?"
"Yeah...of course, son." Son...he shook his head. It was just a way to call someone, nothing more, "Peter, where are you? We saw the news, you and Gwen-"
"We're fine...we survived." He looked down at his right arm again and clenched his fist, "I...I just wanted to make sure you were both alright." A load of dung; Kasady and his monstrosities never got past the city let alone the suburbs. They weren't in any danger.
"W-We're fine, Peter," May replied, "The news...you nearly died, Peter-"
"What else is new?" He'd been staring death in the face ever since he woke up in that alley, this wasn't anything out of the ordinary. And if Moon Knight was right then death apparently didn't have a very tight grip on them, "Look, I'm just glad you're alright. I'm-"
"W-Wait!" His hand hovered over the screen. End the call now, another part said, it was the smart play, "Peter, please, me and Ben are worried...could we please see you? Are you close by? We...We just want to make sure you're alright."
"...Can't, sorry. I'm in town." Always lying, always running... "...I'm alright. Take care of yourselves."
He was sure they were going to say something so he cut the call before they could. Any longer and the temptation would've been too much, 'They deserve better...' He turned away and walked away, hands stuffed into the pockets of his torn jacket. He couldn't just pretend to be their little boy again. He had two sets of memories - two lives - crawling around his noggin. It would've just been pathetic if he tried.
Peter didn't get far before he caught sight of something that stopped him in his tracks.
Captain Stacy at one of the benches on the rightmost street, his expression unreadable as he stubbornly looked ahead. Peter caught sight of a few scattered cigarettes at the side of the bench along with a flask of what smelled like liquor in his hand. He was almost tempted to turn into smoke and step past him, but before he could make up his mind the older man's head turned his way and he their gazes met.
They stared at one another in complete silence for the next few seconds before Peter eventually walked towards him, "Late night, 'Captain'?" He did his best to keep his expression neutral. The old man had a full head of white hair but he was anything but feeble; hard to be incorruptible in a place like this without learning how to deal with someone who could take everything away from you.
"Peter..." His name sounded odd when he said it. Like he was struggling to believe it belonged to him, "What are you doing here?"
"I was with Gwen...she's at your house."
"Hmm, she didn't tell me...well, I'm just glad she's alright." He gestured to the other side of the bench, "Care to join me?"
Again he was tempted to say no, but in the end he found himself sitting a short distance away from the old man. They'd never really talked, and considering their first proper conversation involved lies, threats and insults it wasn't a surprise that neither of them made an effort to connect.
Didn't help that he still remembered the old man who Brock beat into a vegetable...
"...Something happened," 'Captain' Stacy said eventually. Peter gave him a sideways glance and said nothing, "Gwen didn't answer her phone and when I caught a glimpse of her on the news...what happened at that factory?"
It wasn't his place to say, but keeping quiet wasn't much better. In the end he took a deep breath and replied, "...She killed someone." The old man's eyes widened and his mouth opened, though no words came, "That monster, the one who caused all this...she had to kill it to make sure that those pawns it had wouldn't kill everyone in the city."
Almost everyone he knew in this place killed. His 'teammates' killed, Stars-and-Stripes killed, Lana killed, he killed...he'd taken enough both in this place and in his imaginary memories that he'd been numbed to it. Anyone else would've been horrified by what he'd done - beating someone till their head was nothing more than a pile of mush - but all he could wish was that he'd done it sooner. Maybe then he wouldn't have found out he was a walking practical joke.
"...God." The old man covered his face with both hands and muttered what sounded like a prayer under his breath, "No, no, no...I hoped this would never happen. God damn it..."
Peter didn't say anything. It was hard enough to put on a strong front for Gwen; doing it for her old man would've been impossible. Instead he pulled out the nearly crushed packet of cigarettes and lit one of the white sticks, "...Want one?" He offered him the pack. The former police chief gave him an unreadable look before he eventually nodded and took one of the coffin nails, which Peter quickly lit.
They just sat there in silence, the only sound being the occasional gust of wind or the chirping of the crickets. Eventually the old man uncorked the flask and took a wide swig before offering it to him. Peter took it without a word and downed what remained of the bourbon, relishing the sweet and smoky taste before it was inevitably drowned out. Old man had good taste in his spirits, at least.
"...How did it happen?" he asked, still stubbornly facing ahead.
"You'll have to ask her for the details, but..." He placed the flask between them and exhaled softly, "That monster was controlling all those things running amok in the city. When she killed it they all stopped; by all accounts she didn't have much of a choice, but..."
"But she thinks she should have done something else," he finished. Peter nodded, which earned a sigh from the exhausted parent, "Always like that. When...well, when you died she changed. She spent days barely saying a word and didn't even say goodbye to Harry when he left for training. Then one day she suddenly decided that she had to do something...it was only years later that I found out what that meant."
"Spider-Woman..." When he...when Spider-Man first got bitten he took to his powers immediately; he didn't even hesitate to attack Osborn's office when he thought he could get revenge for Uncle Ben. Of course, where did that leave him? No point in going back, no point in putting on the mask now that the ruse was gone. This place didn't want him and his 'home' wouldn't either. He didn't belong in either of them.
"Yeah...4 years and I didn't know about it. 4 Years I was blind."
"2 years you hunted her down like an animal." 'Captain' Stacy's eyes narrowed, though Peter paid it no mind. He'd seen scarier sights than an overprotective dad, "I saw the newspapers. People wanted someone to be afraid of, someone to hate so they didn't have to look in the mirror and see their own reflection. And you played along, following on Jameson's leash until you saw who it was under that mask."
"I made a mistake, I know that, but you of all people don't get to judge me," he replied back, unerringly calm, "You were the one who turned yourself into the lizard 3 years ago and now you're hanging around murderers like Frank Castle. You know what he tried to do, don't you? If he had his way she would've been crucified."
"Funny, you were doing the same thing till you realized that 'monster' you were hunting was your daughter. What if it was Castle's kid under that mask? Would you have put your gun down or would you have put her to the mercy of the mob?"
They gave each other a hard look before they both eventually sighed. What was the point of getting into an argument? They needed someone to blame, but it didn't have to be each other, "...Sorry." Peter mumbled, "Look, I agree with you on Castle. I'm not exactly friends with the guy, especially after he left his family behind..." Like he was doing with Ben and May. They were more alike than he wanted to admit.
"Well...you weren't exactly wrong. If it wasn't Gwen under the mask I don't know what I would have done..." He pressed both hands together and placed them under his chin, "...I don't know what to do, Peter. I...the thought that this could happen was always something I considered, but having it actually come to pass...I feel like I'm barely treading water. All of this is...it's beyond what I know."
"You've been a police chief for years. You've never had to deal with recruits who got the jitters after they fire their gun at someone the first time?"
"Gwen is my daughter, not a recruit I can drill with regulations." He sighed, "...In the academy they tell us that we should do our best not to fire our gun and to make sure everyone made it out, but in the end it was clear that if it came down to it we had to take a life. Any officer worth his badge knows that eventually you'll be put in a 'them or you' situation and we accept that."
"But Gwen is...she didn't have that. She got bitten in an accident and she decided to put on a mask to help people because of her guilt. I can't just tell her that she should have expected this, that this was what she went through the academy for like it justifies everything. Many of the officers keep their work and themselves separate; 'hiding behind a badge', one could say. Some people say we need it or we turn into people like Frank Castle."
"There's no hiding for people like us..." Peter muttered, "We try to pretend that the mask and the person underneath are different, but in the end we can't. Gwen is Spider-Woman and Spider-Woman is Gwen...and both of them killed that monster in the factory."
"And that's why I don't know what to do. All these masks and powers...I grew up reading Captain America comic books, but they were just that: fantasy. I never thought that I'd get involved with that world, but now there's Gwen and Jess...and even you. I feel like I'm being left behind, like my daughter's moving farther and farther away somewhere I can't follow her."
"Just be her dad...I think that's all she wants right now." Because he sure as hell couldn't be the best friend she wanted. He couldn't even admit what happened back at the factory.
"I don't know if that'll work, son, but I'll try..." He finally threw away the last of the coffin nail and exhaled a deep breath, "It's hard, seeing her on the news every day, wondering if maybe this is the day that she's going to get hurt or unmasked or if she's bitten off more than she can chew."
"I'm sure she felt the same way when she was younger, having a policeman dad." The Aunt May he remembered said she was the same; waiting day after day for the letters from Uncle Ben making sure she was alright. The day he came back home in full uniform with a chest full of medals was one of the happiest days of her life.
"You're probably right," he replied, "...Answer me something: what exactly is it between you and Gwen?"
"What do you mean?"
"When you died...your death was the reason she decided to put on the mask and be a hero, why she abandoned any idea of fame and glory and continued saving a city that hounded her and put up with a dad who hunted her like she was a common criminal. When I heard that you came back I didn't know what to think, especially after I saw you on the news. I knew you could be bitter and angry - I had a good read on people - but this is..."
"...I don't know who I am." Liar. He knew exactly who he was, "This body is Parker's, but my memories...I remember growing up in the Depression, I remember the stories Uncle Ben told me about the Great War, I remember finding his body after Toomes finished cannibalizing..." All that anger and grief; none of it belonged to him. He was just a tagalong, a leech who thought a few vague recollections made those memories his, "I dunno."
"...Gwen cares about you, that much is clear." 'Captain' Stacy brought a hand through his hair and sighed, "I don't know if I'll ever understand or approve of what she feels for you, but that's her choice. I couldn't stop her from putting on the mask and I can't stop her from this."
"Sorry about that..."
"Don't apologize; I'm not exactly blameless myself." The smile halfway between sincere and bitter, "Just promise me one thing: don't hurt her. Cause if you do I don't care how many powers you have or where you run to, I'll make sure you regret it."
"I think it's too late for us to not hurt each other..." All the arguments and fights, some of them ending with punches thrown. The only difference he had over Osborn was that he didn't try to kill her, and even then there were times when they came dangerously close. He could've blamed the serum for that, but he was never one for blaming everyone else - just one difference from back then.
Peter stamped the coffin nail underfoot and stood, though was barely past the bench for the old man spoke up again.
"Do you love Gwen?"
Peter stopped. Even through the silence he felt the former police chief's gaze boring on his back while the question hung in the air. He could've ignored it; could've pretended he didn't hear, turn into smoke and disappear or even just walked away. There was nothing he could do force him to answer, not really.
"...Yeah, I do."
It was...odd saying it out loud. They'd been indirect about it before - talks of 'feelings' of an unspecific nature towards one another, what they almost did after the donnybrook with Frost, what they actually did at Watson's cabin...still, there was something almost damning about admitting it. He didn't know if it was how he really felt or just the memories bleeding through, but it felt like the correct answer; or at least as much as it could be.
"I see..." He didn't say anything for a few seconds. Peter was almost tempted to leave before he spoke up again, "Take care of yourself, Peter."
"You too, Captain..."
Gwen awoke to the sounds of soft knocks at the door, "Mmhh..." She groped for the sides of the bed only to be met with nothing but the blankets, "Wha...Peter?" She opened her eyes and sat up slowly. She was only half-surprised to find the other half of the bed empty and herself alone in the room. It was about what she expected from him considering his past behavior.
Another wave of knocks jolted her out of her thoughts. Biting back a yawn, she stood and made her way to the door. She was still half-asleep, but already the events of the day came rushing back to her and she stopped. Even now a part of her expected Webster to greet her good morning or tell her that she needed to go on another chocolate binge before they went out on patrol.
And then there was-
"Gwen, are you there?" Her dad's voice resounded from the other side of the doorway, "I...I wanna talk."
She was already at the door with her hand on the knob before she stopped. Should she tell her dad? He knew Webster was dead, but the incident at the factory... "Oh, God..." Her hand shook and before she could release the handle the metal twisted and broke before falling onto the ground.
"Shit...!" She let out a frustrated growl and kicked the nearby desk. A bad idea, "Shit, shit, shit!" She jumped back and winced when the wooden table broke and splintered at the force of the kick, 'Calm down, calm down...' It was just like her first days of being bitten - afraid of touching anything because she might've broken it. It'd taken her days to get a full handle on it.
Her deep breaths were interrupted by a sudden hand on her shoulder. It took all she had not to turn around and hit the new arrival in a panic, which was a relief considering she found herself face to face with her dad when she eventually did muster the nerve to look back.
"Dad..." Her hands almost moved to hug him before she again held back. She had to be careful, and in her current state careful was the furthest thing from her mind. Taking a deep breath, she stepped back until there was a fair distance between the two of them, "J-Just don't touch me, okay? I'm not sure if I can control my strength right now..." It was bad before, but now this was...she could've leveled the house if she wasn't careful.
"Okay, honey, okay..." He held up his hands and took a tentative step around her towards the bed, "Let's just sit on the bed, okay? It's big enough that you don't have to worry."
"Alright..."
They sat at the opposite ends of the bed. Gwen looked down at her hands and wrung her fingers together. They'd had their fair share of awkward talks before - him finding out about her double life came to mind - but this was something else. Once her dad found out she was Spider-Woman he never once thought that she actually killed Peter, but this time there was no doubt about what she'd done.
"...Where's Jess?" she asked, more to fill the silence than anything else.
"She's in town checking up on her sister. She says she'll call soon," her dad said.
"Oh..." She bit her lower lip and adjusted her place on the bed as carefully as she could. The last thing she needed was to wreck her bed on top of everything else, "Dad...I-I gotta tell you something, I-"
He reached out a hand and and squeezed her left hand gently, "I know, honey." He pulled back before she could panic and looked down at the floor, "I know..."
"H-How?"
"Peter told me...we had a bit of a talk." A talk? Just the two of them? Why didn't that make her feel any better? "I...Gwen, I'm not going to give you a lecture on the greater good or responsibility or...or anything. I'm not a Superhero and I've never been put in a situation where it was the life of one man versus thousands. So just...just let it out all out, Gwen. I'll listen."
She did. Everything that happened: the massacre at the hospital, the rage she felt when she saw what happened, losing Webster...it all came out in a waterfall of tears, curses and screams. None of this was fucking fair. She tried her best, she pushed herself to the limit despite everything and it wasn't good enough. People still died, lives were ruined and she was forced to break the promise she swore to herself 3 years ago.
Her dad just listened without a word.
"Everything's fucked..." she said for the umpteenth time that day, "S.H.I.E.L.D was supposed to be one of the good guys! Now...all of this, that bastard only got that suit because they tried to recreate Webster for the 'greater good'."
"I'm sorry, honey." She'd heard that before, but it was just relieving to hear his voice. She didn't want to be alone right now, "I...there's nothing I can say, really. Like I told you before, this Superhero stuff is above my head. I was just a cop."
"Yeah, the cop who took down the freaking Kingpin." She smiled slightly at that. It was corny as hell but her dad really was her own personal superhero growing up. She even started doing the occasional good deed before that fucking disaster at prom because he'd suggested that Spider-Woman could've done more with her powers than selling herself out for talk show appearances.
"...You gonna be okay?"
"I don't know." She couldn't muster up the will to lie. Not now, "I...I don't know what I'm supposed to do now. I mean, I'm a S.H.I.E.L.D sanctioned hero, but how can I keep going like I did before after finding out they were responsible? Do I just pretend it's okay that all those people died because S.H.I.E.L.D was trying to do something for the 'greater good'? That I killed someone because of that same reason?"
"Look, Gwen, I can't tell you how to handle this. All I can tell you is what I know. I've seen corrupt police officers, corrupt judges who let dozens or hundreds of criminals off on technicalities because they were paid off. I won't lie and say it didn't bother me; having a rapist get off scot-free because his father paid the judge...seeing things like that almost made me turn my badge in."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because that wouldn't solve anything. If I quit stuff like that would continue to happen; all I'd have been doing was plugging my ears." He paused, considering his next words, "Look, Gwen...you're only human. Powers or no you're just one person and you can't change everything much as you might want to. I'm not going to pretend I can save the world, but I do what I can. You did the same: I saw those people you saved on the news. They would've died if it wasn't for you."
"Human, huh?" She raised her right hand and stared at the blackened limb. She still hadn't been able to figure out how to do anything more than take her mask off. What was the point of all her new gifts if she couldn't do anything more than stopping purse snatchers or the weekly Supervillains? She was too late to stop that murderer when he was still human...
"Gwen-"
"I wanna visit mom." Her dad blinked in surprise as the sudden interruption, "Mom's grave, I mean-"
"I know what you mean, honey. It's just..." He shook his head, "After what happened I don't think it's a good time to go to the cemetery. It's going to be crowded..." She looked down and bit her lip at the reminder, "Look, in a few days, I promise. Right now...now I just want you to relax, alright? No hero work, no meeting with Peter or anything else. Please."
"Yeah...sure." She hugged her knees to her chest and buried the lower half of her face into her legs. She couldn't face her friends like this anyway, "...I love you, dad."
"Love you too, Gwen." He kissed her in the forehead and stood up, "I'm gonna go make some hot chocolate then we can go watch re-runs of Dad Cop...if you want, I mean."
"Yeah...wouldn't miss it for the world."
The trip back to his apartment was remarkably uneventful. The roads were clogged with police cars, ambulances and barricades, but no one gave him a second glance. He was injured and beaten down but so were hundreds of others. The fact that he was even walking upright and not screaming about how much he needed help meant that he was safely ignored from everyone else in the crowd.
Now if only the screens were off.
Despite his better judgement his attention was drawn to another news report, "-while the identities of the heroes led by Captain America are well-known the other vigilantes and Gifted that helped protect the city are still unknown. It has been confirmed that the disgraced detective Frank Castle was part of the group spearheaded by Spider-Man, but the others in the group are still unknown-"
He tightened his hood over his head and wished that he still had his noise cancelling headphones with him. They were all caught: Stars-and-Stripes' group, him and his 'team' and even a few others like Osborn or Jones. Despite the tragedy some news outlets were already trying to spin the 'Hero craze'. It was disgusting; even now people focused on the people that stood out over the hundreds that died.
It didn't help that Spider-Man and that clawed partner of his were caught, too...
His apartment building was remarkably untouched, at least in the sense that there were only two ambulances and a single cop car. Peter stepped past the milling crowd and made his way up the stairs. He just wanted to forget all about this and run away from his problems like he always did.
Any plans of that were dashed when he saw Lana sleeping on the couch with half her face covered in a fresh set of bandages that covered the worst of her wounds. Her exposed left eye and the side of her face still had its fair share of nasty bruises, but at least they didn't look life-threatening.
He only managed two steps into the apartment before Dog came bounding out of the room towards him, his barks as loud and rapid as ever, "Huh? Whuzza fuck?" Lana sat up quickly, both hands raised and glowing in the direction of the door before she saw it was him, "Oh, Pete...hey. You took a while..." She brought a hand through her hair and yawned briefly before quickly wincing, "Ah, still fucking stings..."
"...What are you doing here?"
"Hello to you too, huh?" She stood up into a shaky stand and gestured to the kitchen table, "Made us some drinks, thought you'd be-"
"Why aren't you with your mother?"
She paused at the sudden hostility in his tone and shrugged, "She's with grandma...figured the two could talk it out better without me hanging around. They're kinda wondering what do with me now considering my mom's out of a job and might not have custody of me anymore." She shook her head, "Look, can we not talk about it? I kinda just wanna forget all this shit-"
"Leave. Now."
Even through the bandages the shock and hurt on her face was clear as day. He would've been lying if he said he didn't feel anything seeing her like that, "Wh-What the hell? What's with you all of a sudden?"
"It's nothing. Just leave." He couldn't do this. Not now, not with her. He was already confused enough as it was, talking with another person who (for whatever reason) didn't want him to leave this madhouse behind was the last thing he needed, "I wanna be alone..." He walked past her and placed both hands on the table, his gaze leveled downwards.
She didn't leave. Peter sucked in a deep breath when she stepped closer and tugged on the back of his jacket, "Pete, what's wrong? You're-"
"I said fuck off!" He shook off her hand and turned to glare at her. Her remaining eye was wide and she stepped back when she saw his open snarl, "I'm not your brother, Lana! You don't have to pretend you give a shit about me! Just leave!"
Her expression morphed from shock to a white-hot glare, "Pretend?! I nearly got killed saving your fucking ass! I didn't give myself these bruises, asshole! I got them trying to save you!"
"I didn't ask you to! I told you to escape with your family so don't put that on me!" This was wrong, he knew that, but he couldn't stop the next words that came out of his mouth, "Your mom's awake! You don't have to be here anymore so just leave me alone!"
"God, fuck- what's wrong with you?!" She stepped closer and looked up at him defiantly, "You really want me to leave?! You wanna be alone in this fucking shithole of an apartment with that fucking board you obsess over every day?! Is that really what you want?!"
"I think I made that obvious! Get the hell out!"
They continued to glare at one another before she eventually looked away. He wished he'd missed it, but he saw the tears in her eye even through her best attempt to hide it, "F-Fine..." She choked back, her fists shaking, "Have nice fucking life, asshole!"
She ran out the entrance and closed it behind her with a loud slam. A part of him was tempted to run after her and apologize, to tell her that he didn't mean it and he didn't want her to leave, but he drowned it out. Dog whimpered up at him and made his way to the other room; probably chasing after her. Peter ignored the pup and looked back at the table.
The two mugs weren't anything special; just a couple with garish colors they bought at a sale for a laugh. Scowling, Peter swept them off the table and let them fall on the floor with a loud crash, "Fuck..." He stepped past the shattered porcelain and coffe and opened the cabinet to pull out a bottle of whiskey. He didn't get drunk for long but it sure as hell wouldn't stop him from trying.
He finished the bottle in one go and picked up another. He was dizzy and unbalanced, but that was hardly the worst he'd gotten. He took two more bottles and trudged into his room.
Peter took two steps into the room and almost tripped when his foot slipped on the small book lying on the ground, "God damn it..." He placed the bottles on the small cabinet and picked up the worn leather booklet. The kid's diary...his diary, actually. He hadn't actually read it in all the months he had it. Too afraid of what he'd find inside or that it could make his nightmares worse.
He opened the first page and nearly dropped it outright when he saw the picture inside. A family picture: Ben and May to the left while George and a laughing Helen Stacy stood on the other side. At the center were him and Gwen looking no older than 8 or 9 years old, both of them flashing open grins at the camera and holding up a plastic replica of Stars-and-Stripes' shield.
It came to him again all at once. The past 6 months were a lie and he'd just deluded himself. He should have died that night when he turned himself into a monster, but instead he was here playing the butt of a joke only the Spider-God knew about.
He fell on his knees and cried. It was over...he couldn't go back to the place he thought was his home, but what was the alternative? Staying here and disappointing Gwen and the Parkers who expected the Peter they knew to come back at some point? He didn't belong there, but he didn't belong here either.
Another spasm of pain shot up his right and he screamed. Peter fell on his side and screamed as the pain worsened, "It doesn't belong to you!" He shut his eyes and tried to drown out the deafening voice, "You know the truth! Now give it back!"
Clawed fingers wrapped themselves around his neck and his breathing slowed. Peter kicked the hallucinatory(?) assailant and crawled back to the discarded box, "Get out of my head..." He searched inside desperately and pulled out a half-filled syringe full of suppressant.
The injection was more painful than he was expecting, but it was worth it. The scales on his arm receded and he gasped, barely managing to hold himself up with both hands, "God..." He threw away the syringe and heaved, though nothing came, "Help me...Gwen...anyone help me...please..." He fell on his side again and shut his eyes. It was too much. He didn't know what do anymore.
He stayed curled on the ground until he eventually fell into a dreamless sleep.
Yeah...told you guys it'd be angsty as shit :X Sorry about that, but hey you all were warned. Gwen's (kinda) on the road to recovery because papa Stacy is awesome while Noir fucks things up yet again and alienates one of the few people he could've honestly confided in...about what you could expect, really.
So yeah, that's that. On a lighter note - on a scale of '1' to 'No fucking way' what are my chances of pairing Gwen and/or Peter with anyone else after this chapter, especially after Peter's little Q and A with George about what the deal between the two of them was? Cause I'm wondering if I've committed to this pairing wholesale now or there's still a chance to switch out.
I'm sorry if this chapter was too Noir-centric; I probably could've had Gwen have the POV for the first segment. Noir also gets more focus than Gwen in the upcoming arcs, though she'll still be present. Apologies for anyone that wanted more Spider-Gwen focus
Oh, and don't worry; I took the pro-sanity arguments for the serum into account so don't think the end of the chapter means I disregarded the winning vote
Question (kinda important):
1. Should I show some other viewpoints outside of Gwen and Peter and how they're picking up the pieces as well or just skip straight to the next arc? If yes I might be able to show how Spider-Man, Jessica, Cindy and possibly even Lana (considering her soap opera act with Noir) and how they were affected. The narration indicates they were all caught on video doing hero work, so Jessica in particular would probably get in trouble since she tends not to wear masks.
So yeah...next chapter is another one like this or just jump ahead to the next arc and how the city reacts to Earth-65's version of 'The Incident', particularly the fact that the only reason the city's still standing are cause of independent heroes and vigilantes?
2. Are you guys fine with the current tone of the chapters or should I make it a tad lighter? My other fic Twisted Reflections got some comments on being too depressing and grim and I'm wondering if people feel the same way here?
Review Answer:
Cyclopz - Glad you liked it Anyway, I'm doing one chapter, so pick your scenario wisely.
KasugaRomio - Yeah, Gwen killing someone definitely shifts her character around along with finding out about SHIELD's little backroom experiments.
Dr. Sugarcakes - Here's more darkness to that cake of blackness and misery you're eating Hope you like it
Yohart Meltz - Hey you knew that Noir is one of the main characters, so the story being kinda dark is to be expected. Anyway, stick around; lets see if these two have any chance for a happy ending or they follow the route of every Spider hero and get crapped on because Anansi's an asshole.
Krolikson - Yeah...what was that about waiting?
Earlier than my previous updates, but I guess I was feeling inspired (read: there were no action scenes so it was way easier to write). Took me a little under a day to get this done, so hopefully the quality persists.Alright, fair warning now: this chapter is angsty as shit and filled with soap opera BS, so if you're feeling tired of angst then this chapter (and many future ones...) are not for you. Then again given how the last chapter ended we can't really expect otherwise.
Anyway, the choice between Captain Stacy and Teresa were really close, but the ol' Captain eventually won out with literally 1 vote and I picked him. Don't worry, due to the amount of votes Teresa got I decided to put in a modified version of the scene she originally had with Peter in a later chapter. It won't be exactly the same, but it should have the same essence.
...Harry only got 1 vote though, so nothing for him :X
Chapter 79: Peter and Gwen
"Reports from crews on the scene confirm that that any and all of the mysterious attackers are no longer a threat and S.H.I.E.L.D has currently quarantined specific areas around the city. Current statistics indicate that the number of killed is currently in the hundreds with many more injured, though final numbers are currently unknown. We'll give more information as the story develops-"
Peter shut the TV off and tossed the remote into the corner. He didn't even know why they'd turned it on; maybe they thought the white noise would drown out their thoughts, but considering every channel was hijacked to talk about was rapidly dubbed 'The Incident' that was clearly a bad idea.
That's what it was now: an incident, a tragedy, an affront to everything decent and human as people knew about it. People died every day, but now it was right out there in the open where people couldn't ignore it and it was done by another freak with powers. Nothing new there, but this time Spider-Woman or Stars-and-Stripes or Spinnerette or God only knew who else couldn't save the day with a fancy pose and a clever quip.
Now the city was left to pick up the pieces. Burying their dead, licking their wounds and then finding someone to blame now that that the monsters were gone - maybe the heroes they admired so much for not getting their fast enough, maybe the police and the government for not being able to anticipate it or maybe their neighbors because of whatever reason they could conjure. This place had a track record for misappropriating blame.
And where were Spider-Man and Spider-Woman? Holed up in a house at the suburbs trying to get away from it all.
Peter looked away from the rainsoaked window towards the only other occupant in the room. Gwen sat at the bed with her knees tucked to her chest, her gaze blank and her body eerily still. He caught the suit shifting slightly, but apart from that she might as well have been a statue. He himself sat at the windowsill, his attention focused on the raindrops that pattered against the glass. Anything to distract himself.
They were at Gwen's room; the last place anyone would look for a Superhero and a vigilante. They couldn't stay in the city - too many reporters looking for answers, too many wounded who looked at them with wide, scared eyes while others still looked at them like they were worthless. Why hadn't they done more? They had powers, why did they let it get so far?
Peter sincerely wanted to tell them to go to hell. It was Times Square all over again...
Neither of them said a word to the other ever since they left the factory. Shadowcat and the...other one were gone by the time they left, but he got the feeling that he'd see them again. Life had a way of turning around and kicking him in the gut when he least expected it. At least he knew the others were alright: they'd all managed to avoid getting killed or detained by the police, at least.
It was funny - he'd known Gwen for nearly half a year now and it was the first time he'd actually been in her room. The entire place was almost barren - as to be expected considering she didn't really live here anymore - but he still saw a few signs that made the room unmistakably 'Gwen Stacy': a cabinet filled with messy rock clothes, posters of bands he couldn't even pronounce on the wall and a blanket of that 'Trek Wars' she and the Parker kid...he liked so so much.
His...
He shut his eyes tightly and took a deep breath. He'd always considered it a possibility, and Gwen certainly nudged him towards the idea enough, but there was always some doubt, some crack or hole that he could justify alternatives. Now those were gone and he was left with was the overwhelming realization that he'd been playing the part of the clown who didn't know the joke.
Gwen shifted on the bed and lied down to look up at the ceiling, the noise almost deafening within the quiet confines. He expected another bout of silence before she suddenly spoke up, "I recognized him," she said, her voice so soft he almost didn't hear him.
"...What?"
"That murderer...I knew him." She covered her eyes with her right wrist and took another shuddering breath, "He...I found him when he was still normal. He and his girlfriend gutted a hospital and I..."
"Gwen, you don't have to-"
"I could've ended it right there, right? That's what you always say - One guilty person's life for two or ten or a hundred innocent people. God, we argued about it so fucking much and look at us now. I talk a big game about how there's always another way, that we don't have to kill and now..." She let out a choked cry and turned to the side to face away from him, "You were right...all those people are dead because of me-"
"Enough. Just...stop blaming yourself for everything. Hardy was right about one thing: you got a Messiah complex bigger than the grand canyon."
"That's-"
"You're only human, Gwen. Every time something bad happens you always twist it around to try and take responsibility for it. When are you are gonna get it through your skull that people are responsible for themselves? It's not your fault that the spooks went behind your back, it's not your fault you couldn't be everywhere at once to save everyone and it wasn't your fault that I died!"
She didn't say anything. With obvious reluctance Peter stood from the windowsill and sat at her back anext faced opposite her. He couldn't bear to look at her; not after everything that's happened. He didn't need her looking at him with those tearstained eyes of hers...
"...You can't do that," she said eventually.
"Do what?"
"You can't be Peter - my Peter - just when it's convenient for you. You can't tell me you're not him and then say you are just to make a point." He felt a painful stab in his chest at the accusation in her voice, "Y-You can't just-"
"I'm sorry..." Thoughts of anything else he could say came and went, but ultimately he kept quiet. What was he supposed to say? That he'd found proof? That the real Spider-Man was back from the dead like he was? The last thing she needed was something else to worry about, damn what he thought. He'd dealt with trauma before he could do it now. It wasn't like he hadn't considered it, after all...
"No you're not." The bitterness in her tone caused another painful stab in his chest, "Fuck, look at us. We're arguing again, always trying to hurt each other. I don't even know why we're doing it anymore."
"Neither do I..."
Peter looked up at the ceiling and clenched his right hand. They fought, they hurt one another, but in the end they always came back despite how angry and miserable they could get. Anyone else would have thought that they were both insane. At times he wondered if they would've cared about one another if it wasn't for the faces underneath the masks; if they weren't Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy.
"...I'm sorry, that wasn't fair-"
"Rarely ever is, Gwen..." He smiled bitterly and let out a wry laugh, "We survived...some people would consider that a victory."
"I don't feel like a winner right now..." She grit her teeth and let out a soft growl, "S.H.I.E.L.D was the one who made that monster and they're not going to admit it, we both know that. God, I'm such a fucking idiot. I thought they were the good guys, that they could do no wrong, but this...hundreds died and they're not going to admit it. They'll blame it on S.I.L.K or Red Skull or whoever and say it's for the greater good. Fuck..."
"...You alright?"
"No." She curled closer on herself as if she was trying to disappear into the blankets, "Peter, I...I killed someone. Maybe...Maybe that's not a big deal for you or dad or Jess or anyone else, but I...I never thought I'd have to do it. Ever since you...since Peter died I made a promise that no one would die as long as I could stop it. I...I made a promise that I'd-"
"An impossible promise, Gwen..." He sighed. Talking about this with her was never pleasant, "...Look, I'll be blunt: promising that no one dies when you're around is like promising world peace or that you can change human nature. Sometimes...Sometimes people have to die so others can live. I'm not gonna claim that every person I put down I did cause I had no other choice, but it's happened before."
"Like when?"
"...Maxine." She shifted slightly behind him, "Maybe you'd disagree, but I didn't have a choice. She was...I couldn't stop her and she turned a bunch of firemen to ash right in front of me along with God only knows who else. Who knows, maybe you or some other hero would've been able to stop her but I couldn't exactly wait around for the cavalry. So I did what I had to."
"We shouldn't have to do that...it's not fair." she muttered bitterly.
"If life were fair neither of us would have to put on masks." And he wouldn't even be alive. He'd still be dead while Spider-Man ran around like a headless chicken playing vigilante while the world erupted to war around him. All that power and the best he - they - could do was to stop a bunch of crime bosses. Peanuts compared to what really mattered and nothing either of them could change when...if they went back.
"...Fuck, I hate this." She gripped the blanket tightly and she heard the sounds of tearing cloth, "Webster's dead, Peter! Just this morning we were having breakfast with dad and Jess and now..." The suit shifted in a chaotic hum, "Now it's dead and I'm stuck with a suit I don't even know how to control! Do you know how scared I was to even hug my dad? I thought if I wasn't careful I'd snap his spine or...or-"
"Gwen-"
"That's not even the worst part," she spoke over him, "I...when I killed that bastard, I-I-I enjoyed it! It..It was only for a few seconds, but I thought about all the people he killed, about Webster, about Lana and about...about you." She bit her lower lip and shut her eyes, "I thought he deserved to die, that he deserved worse after everything he did. All the people he's killed, the people he left behind to cry over their loved ones and-"
He forced her up and pulled her into a tight embrace. Gwen gasped and for a second he thought he thought that he would push her off, "Peter..." She wrapped her arms around his back, her touch soft and barely felt. She was afraid of hurting him.
"It's alright, Gwen..." He didn't believe it himself, but he had nothing else he could say. He didn't know what to do - it wasn't like with Lana those months back. She'd killed someone for the first time, but she was raised in the dregs of Hell's Kitchen; eventually she would've been broken down, much as neither of them wanted to admit that. Gwen was an idealist who sincerely believed; a dying breed both here and back...back at that place.
She buried her head at his shoulder and cried. Peter could only hold her close and hope that she couldn't tell how uncertain he was.
Eventually her crying softened into sniffles and she pulled back slightly, "I...I don't know what to do, Peter. Webster's gone and after everything...I-"
"You're still you, Gwen," he muttered, "I know you can't see it, but look at all the people you saved. Those monsters died when you stopped that madman, so think of that. All those people are still alive because of you."
"Its hard..." She bit her lip and looked down, "...What am I supposed to do now, Peter? I swore to myself that I'd never kill anyone and I broke that. Now I-"
"Now what? You have to kill everyone? Killing is always an option now?" He scoffed, "Gwen, it's not a one-way street. You don't have to be like Castle or Bullseye or...or me." He looked away from her, "You don't have to change, Gwen. The kid's gone and things are bad - we both know it is - but it doesn't mean you crossed a line you can't come back from. And if you need help you have your dad, your friend and...and me."
"For how long?" She turned away and frowned, "You said we you were going back...did you change your mind?" she asked, her voice hopeful. Tell her, a part of him said, tell her now. He opened his mouth but no words came. He couldn't tell her; not now, not like this. Instead he turned away and didn't say a word, "...Thought so." The smile she gave him was obviously forced. He wanted it gone.
Peter turned around and made to leave; there was nothing could do for her. He was halfway to standing up before she suddenly grabbed his right hand with her left in another gentle grip, "Stay with me..."
It wasn't just a request for him to stay that one night, and they both knew it. Peter looked down at their intertwined hands: his arm still held traces of green scales and hers was still blackened into the same material as the rest of of her suit. Another reminder of what they had to give up to put that madman down, of how close they were to turning into monsters just to survive.
"Gwen-"
"Please."
...He could never say no to her.
He wanted to stay.
Peter looked up at the ceiling blankly while Gwen slept next to him, her expression calm and finally at peace for the first time since he'd seen her today. The clock told him it was only a little past 2 in the morning, though as expected he was already wide awake. Just another night of little to no sleep...except now he didn't have his stockpile of whiskey to keep him company.
He wanted to stay.
He turned to the side and looked at Gwen. She was fast asleep, though the suit still continued to move with the occasional spasm. Without the kid to keep it under wraps it'd be hard for her to keep going as she did. He promised her he'd be there to help but what did he really know about that thing? He could barely keep his own mental problems in order. It was a miracle he wasn't a gibbering wreck yet.
He wanted to stay.
'...Damn it.' He turned away from her. It wasn't a sudden realization - there was no lightbulb that went above his head or a giant epiphany that suddenly changed everything. He knew it all along, even if he didn't want to admit it: this world - this madhouse - it frustrated the hell out of him, drove him insane...but a part of him didn't want to leave. Maybe he was just as mad as everyone else, but there it was.
And now he had the perfect excuse...right?
'Hah, right...like it's that easy.' His entire life was a lie; that wasn't something he could just shrug off. Peter gave one last glance to the sleeping young woman before he put on his shoes and stood. Gwen would've been disappointed that he ducked out early but he couldn't stay here, not now. He needed to clear his head, get...whatever he had left under control.
The window opened easily enough and he jumped, landing in the back garden with a dull thud - thankfully the rain had finally stopped. Peter clenched his hand as a sudden jolt of pain ran up his right arm, "Ah..." He gripped his right wrist tightly and grit his teeth to keep himself from screaming.
The pain passed eventually and he groaned, "Damn poison..." He wiped the sweat off his brow and and made his way to the front street. Maybe going back home would clear his head.
He stopped when he saw the dim lights on the Parker house. His aunt and uncle - his parents, really - were still awake. A part of him was tempted to run over there now and confess everything, to apologize for the way he'd treated them and for all the trouble he'd caused. Instead he just stood there and watched the house in the middle of the street like a goddamned idiot.
His hand moved on its own and dialed Ben's number.
"...Hello, who's this?" Peter closed his eyes and pursed his lips. He sounded the same always, but after today it wasn't easy to treat him like he was a stranger, "Um, hello? Is anyone there-"
"Ben." It was odd calling him that now. He heard a gasp and a slight fumble before Aunt May's voice became audible as well; must've put it on speakerphone, "...You there?"
"Yeah...of course, son." Son...he shook his head. It was just a way to call someone, nothing more, "Peter, where are you? We saw the news, you and Gwen-"
"We're fine...we survived." He looked down at his right arm again and clenched his fist, "I...I just wanted to make sure you were both alright." A load of dung; Kasady and his monstrosities never got past the city let alone the suburbs. They weren't in any danger.
"W-We're fine, Peter," May replied, "The news...you nearly died, Peter-"
"What else is new?" He'd been staring death in the face ever since he woke up in that alley, this wasn't anything out of the ordinary. And if Moon Knight was right then death apparently didn't have a very tight grip on them, "Look, I'm just glad you're alright. I'm-"
"W-Wait!" His hand hovered over the screen. End the call now, another part said, it was the smart play, "Peter, please, me and Ben are worried...could we please see you? Are you close by? We...We just want to make sure you're alright."
"...Can't, sorry. I'm in town." Always lying, always running... "...I'm alright. Take care of yourselves."
He was sure they were going to say something so he cut the call before they could. Any longer and the temptation would've been too much, 'They deserve better...' He turned away and walked away, hands stuffed into the pockets of his torn jacket. He couldn't just pretend to be their little boy again. He had two sets of memories - two lives - crawling around his noggin. It would've just been pathetic if he tried.
Peter didn't get far before he caught sight of something that stopped him in his tracks.
Captain Stacy at one of the benches on the rightmost street, his expression unreadable as he stubbornly looked ahead. Peter caught sight of a few scattered cigarettes at the side of the bench along with a flask of what smelled like liquor in his hand. He was almost tempted to turn into smoke and step past him, but before he could make up his mind the older man's head turned his way and he their gazes met.
They stared at one another in complete silence for the next few seconds before Peter eventually walked towards him, "Late night, 'Captain'?" He did his best to keep his expression neutral. The old man had a full head of white hair but he was anything but feeble; hard to be incorruptible in a place like this without learning how to deal with someone who could take everything away from you.
"Peter..." His name sounded odd when he said it. Like he was struggling to believe it belonged to him, "What are you doing here?"
"I was with Gwen...she's at your house."
"Hmm, she didn't tell me...well, I'm just glad she's alright." He gestured to the other side of the bench, "Care to join me?"
Again he was tempted to say no, but in the end he found himself sitting a short distance away from the old man. They'd never really talked, and considering their first proper conversation involved lies, threats and insults it wasn't a surprise that neither of them made an effort to connect.
Didn't help that he still remembered the old man who Brock beat into a vegetable...
"...Something happened," 'Captain' Stacy said eventually. Peter gave him a sideways glance and said nothing, "Gwen didn't answer her phone and when I caught a glimpse of her on the news...what happened at that factory?"
It wasn't his place to say, but keeping quiet wasn't much better. In the end he took a deep breath and replied, "...She killed someone." The old man's eyes widened and his mouth opened, though no words came, "That monster, the one who caused all this...she had to kill it to make sure that those pawns it had wouldn't kill everyone in the city."
Almost everyone he knew in this place killed. His 'teammates' killed, Stars-and-Stripes killed, Lana killed, he killed...he'd taken enough both in this place and in his imaginary memories that he'd been numbed to it. Anyone else would've been horrified by what he'd done - beating someone till their head was nothing more than a pile of mush - but all he could wish was that he'd done it sooner. Maybe then he wouldn't have found out he was a walking practical joke.
"...God." The old man covered his face with both hands and muttered what sounded like a prayer under his breath, "No, no, no...I hoped this would never happen. God damn it..."
Peter didn't say anything. It was hard enough to put on a strong front for Gwen; doing it for her old man would've been impossible. Instead he pulled out the nearly crushed packet of cigarettes and lit one of the white sticks, "...Want one?" He offered him the pack. The former police chief gave him an unreadable look before he eventually nodded and took one of the coffin nails, which Peter quickly lit.
They just sat there in silence, the only sound being the occasional gust of wind or the chirping of the crickets. Eventually the old man uncorked the flask and took a wide swig before offering it to him. Peter took it without a word and downed what remained of the bourbon, relishing the sweet and smoky taste before it was inevitably drowned out. Old man had good taste in his spirits, at least.
"...How did it happen?" he asked, still stubbornly facing ahead.
"You'll have to ask her for the details, but..." He placed the flask between them and exhaled softly, "That monster was controlling all those things running amok in the city. When she killed it they all stopped; by all accounts she didn't have much of a choice, but..."
"But she thinks she should have done something else," he finished. Peter nodded, which earned a sigh from the exhausted parent, "Always like that. When...well, when you died she changed. She spent days barely saying a word and didn't even say goodbye to Harry when he left for training. Then one day she suddenly decided that she had to do something...it was only years later that I found out what that meant."
"Spider-Woman..." When he...when Spider-Man first got bitten he took to his powers immediately; he didn't even hesitate to attack Osborn's office when he thought he could get revenge for Uncle Ben. Of course, where did that leave him? No point in going back, no point in putting on the mask now that the ruse was gone. This place didn't want him and his 'home' wouldn't either. He didn't belong in either of them.
"Yeah...4 years and I didn't know about it. 4 Years I was blind."
"2 years you hunted her down like an animal." 'Captain' Stacy's eyes narrowed, though Peter paid it no mind. He'd seen scarier sights than an overprotective dad, "I saw the newspapers. People wanted someone to be afraid of, someone to hate so they didn't have to look in the mirror and see their own reflection. And you played along, following on Jameson's leash until you saw who it was under that mask."
"I made a mistake, I know that, but you of all people don't get to judge me," he replied back, unerringly calm, "You were the one who turned yourself into the lizard 3 years ago and now you're hanging around murderers like Frank Castle. You know what he tried to do, don't you? If he had his way she would've been crucified."
"Funny, you were doing the same thing till you realized that 'monster' you were hunting was your daughter. What if it was Castle's kid under that mask? Would you have put your gun down or would you have put her to the mercy of the mob?"
They gave each other a hard look before they both eventually sighed. What was the point of getting into an argument? They needed someone to blame, but it didn't have to be each other, "...Sorry." Peter mumbled, "Look, I agree with you on Castle. I'm not exactly friends with the guy, especially after he left his family behind..." Like he was doing with Ben and May. They were more alike than he wanted to admit.
"Well...you weren't exactly wrong. If it wasn't Gwen under the mask I don't know what I would have done..." He pressed both hands together and placed them under his chin, "...I don't know what to do, Peter. I...the thought that this could happen was always something I considered, but having it actually come to pass...I feel like I'm barely treading water. All of this is...it's beyond what I know."
"You've been a police chief for years. You've never had to deal with recruits who got the jitters after they fire their gun at someone the first time?"
"Gwen is my daughter, not a recruit I can drill with regulations." He sighed, "...In the academy they tell us that we should do our best not to fire our gun and to make sure everyone made it out, but in the end it was clear that if it came down to it we had to take a life. Any officer worth his badge knows that eventually you'll be put in a 'them or you' situation and we accept that."
"But Gwen is...she didn't have that. She got bitten in an accident and she decided to put on a mask to help people because of her guilt. I can't just tell her that she should have expected this, that this was what she went through the academy for like it justifies everything. Many of the officers keep their work and themselves separate; 'hiding behind a badge', one could say. Some people say we need it or we turn into people like Frank Castle."
"There's no hiding for people like us..." Peter muttered, "We try to pretend that the mask and the person underneath are different, but in the end we can't. Gwen is Spider-Woman and Spider-Woman is Gwen...and both of them killed that monster in the factory."
"And that's why I don't know what to do. All these masks and powers...I grew up reading Captain America comic books, but they were just that: fantasy. I never thought that I'd get involved with that world, but now there's Gwen and Jess...and even you. I feel like I'm being left behind, like my daughter's moving farther and farther away somewhere I can't follow her."
"Just be her dad...I think that's all she wants right now." Because he sure as hell couldn't be the best friend she wanted. He couldn't even admit what happened back at the factory.
"I don't know if that'll work, son, but I'll try..." He finally threw away the last of the coffin nail and exhaled a deep breath, "It's hard, seeing her on the news every day, wondering if maybe this is the day that she's going to get hurt or unmasked or if she's bitten off more than she can chew."
"I'm sure she felt the same way when she was younger, having a policeman dad." The Aunt May he remembered said she was the same; waiting day after day for the letters from Uncle Ben making sure she was alright. The day he came back home in full uniform with a chest full of medals was one of the happiest days of her life.
"You're probably right," he replied, "...Answer me something: what exactly is it between you and Gwen?"
"What do you mean?"
"When you died...your death was the reason she decided to put on the mask and be a hero, why she abandoned any idea of fame and glory and continued saving a city that hounded her and put up with a dad who hunted her like she was a common criminal. When I heard that you came back I didn't know what to think, especially after I saw you on the news. I knew you could be bitter and angry - I had a good read on people - but this is..."
"...I don't know who I am." Liar. He knew exactly who he was, "This body is Parker's, but my memories...I remember growing up in the Depression, I remember the stories Uncle Ben told me about the Great War, I remember finding his body after Toomes finished cannibalizing..." All that anger and grief; none of it belonged to him. He was just a tagalong, a leech who thought a few vague recollections made those memories his, "I dunno."
"...Gwen cares about you, that much is clear." 'Captain' Stacy brought a hand through his hair and sighed, "I don't know if I'll ever understand or approve of what she feels for you, but that's her choice. I couldn't stop her from putting on the mask and I can't stop her from this."
"Sorry about that..."
"Don't apologize; I'm not exactly blameless myself." The smile halfway between sincere and bitter, "Just promise me one thing: don't hurt her. Cause if you do I don't care how many powers you have or where you run to, I'll make sure you regret it."
"I think it's too late for us to not hurt each other..." All the arguments and fights, some of them ending with punches thrown. The only difference he had over Osborn was that he didn't try to kill her, and even then there were times when they came dangerously close. He could've blamed the serum for that, but he was never one for blaming everyone else - just one difference from back then.
Peter stamped the coffin nail underfoot and stood, though was barely past the bench for the old man spoke up again.
"Do you love Gwen?"
Peter stopped. Even through the silence he felt the former police chief's gaze boring on his back while the question hung in the air. He could've ignored it; could've pretended he didn't hear, turn into smoke and disappear or even just walked away. There was nothing he could do force him to answer, not really.
"...Yeah, I do."
It was...odd saying it out loud. They'd been indirect about it before - talks of 'feelings' of an unspecific nature towards one another, what they almost did after the donnybrook with Frost, what they actually did at Watson's cabin...still, there was something almost damning about admitting it. He didn't know if it was how he really felt or just the memories bleeding through, but it felt like the correct answer; or at least as much as it could be.
"I see..." He didn't say anything for a few seconds. Peter was almost tempted to leave before he spoke up again, "Take care of yourself, Peter."
"You too, Captain..."
Gwen awoke to the sounds of soft knocks at the door, "Mmhh..." She groped for the sides of the bed only to be met with nothing but the blankets, "Wha...Peter?" She opened her eyes and sat up slowly. She was only half-surprised to find the other half of the bed empty and herself alone in the room. It was about what she expected from him considering his past behavior.
Another wave of knocks jolted her out of her thoughts. Biting back a yawn, she stood and made her way to the door. She was still half-asleep, but already the events of the day came rushing back to her and she stopped. Even now a part of her expected Webster to greet her good morning or tell her that she needed to go on another chocolate binge before they went out on patrol.
And then there was-
"Gwen, are you there?" Her dad's voice resounded from the other side of the doorway, "I...I wanna talk."
She was already at the door with her hand on the knob before she stopped. Should she tell her dad? He knew Webster was dead, but the incident at the factory... "Oh, God..." Her hand shook and before she could release the handle the metal twisted and broke before falling onto the ground.
"Shit...!" She let out a frustrated growl and kicked the nearby desk. A bad idea, "Shit, shit, shit!" She jumped back and winced when the wooden table broke and splintered at the force of the kick, 'Calm down, calm down...' It was just like her first days of being bitten - afraid of touching anything because she might've broken it. It'd taken her days to get a full handle on it.
Her deep breaths were interrupted by a sudden hand on her shoulder. It took all she had not to turn around and hit the new arrival in a panic, which was a relief considering she found herself face to face with her dad when she eventually did muster the nerve to look back.
"Dad..." Her hands almost moved to hug him before she again held back. She had to be careful, and in her current state careful was the furthest thing from her mind. Taking a deep breath, she stepped back until there was a fair distance between the two of them, "J-Just don't touch me, okay? I'm not sure if I can control my strength right now..." It was bad before, but now this was...she could've leveled the house if she wasn't careful.
"Okay, honey, okay..." He held up his hands and took a tentative step around her towards the bed, "Let's just sit on the bed, okay? It's big enough that you don't have to worry."
"Alright..."
They sat at the opposite ends of the bed. Gwen looked down at her hands and wrung her fingers together. They'd had their fair share of awkward talks before - him finding out about her double life came to mind - but this was something else. Once her dad found out she was Spider-Woman he never once thought that she actually killed Peter, but this time there was no doubt about what she'd done.
"...Where's Jess?" she asked, more to fill the silence than anything else.
"She's in town checking up on her sister. She says she'll call soon," her dad said.
"Oh..." She bit her lower lip and adjusted her place on the bed as carefully as she could. The last thing she needed was to wreck her bed on top of everything else, "Dad...I-I gotta tell you something, I-"
He reached out a hand and and squeezed her left hand gently, "I know, honey." He pulled back before she could panic and looked down at the floor, "I know..."
"H-How?"
"Peter told me...we had a bit of a talk." A talk? Just the two of them? Why didn't that make her feel any better? "I...Gwen, I'm not going to give you a lecture on the greater good or responsibility or...or anything. I'm not a Superhero and I've never been put in a situation where it was the life of one man versus thousands. So just...just let it out all out, Gwen. I'll listen."
She did. Everything that happened: the massacre at the hospital, the rage she felt when she saw what happened, losing Webster...it all came out in a waterfall of tears, curses and screams. None of this was fucking fair. She tried her best, she pushed herself to the limit despite everything and it wasn't good enough. People still died, lives were ruined and she was forced to break the promise she swore to herself 3 years ago.
Her dad just listened without a word.
"Everything's fucked..." she said for the umpteenth time that day, "S.H.I.E.L.D was supposed to be one of the good guys! Now...all of this, that bastard only got that suit because they tried to recreate Webster for the 'greater good'."
"I'm sorry, honey." She'd heard that before, but it was just relieving to hear his voice. She didn't want to be alone right now, "I...there's nothing I can say, really. Like I told you before, this Superhero stuff is above my head. I was just a cop."
"Yeah, the cop who took down the freaking Kingpin." She smiled slightly at that. It was corny as hell but her dad really was her own personal superhero growing up. She even started doing the occasional good deed before that fucking disaster at prom because he'd suggested that Spider-Woman could've done more with her powers than selling herself out for talk show appearances.
"...You gonna be okay?"
"I don't know." She couldn't muster up the will to lie. Not now, "I...I don't know what I'm supposed to do now. I mean, I'm a S.H.I.E.L.D sanctioned hero, but how can I keep going like I did before after finding out they were responsible? Do I just pretend it's okay that all those people died because S.H.I.E.L.D was trying to do something for the 'greater good'? That I killed someone because of that same reason?"
"Look, Gwen, I can't tell you how to handle this. All I can tell you is what I know. I've seen corrupt police officers, corrupt judges who let dozens or hundreds of criminals off on technicalities because they were paid off. I won't lie and say it didn't bother me; having a rapist get off scot-free because his father paid the judge...seeing things like that almost made me turn my badge in."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because that wouldn't solve anything. If I quit stuff like that would continue to happen; all I'd have been doing was plugging my ears." He paused, considering his next words, "Look, Gwen...you're only human. Powers or no you're just one person and you can't change everything much as you might want to. I'm not going to pretend I can save the world, but I do what I can. You did the same: I saw those people you saved on the news. They would've died if it wasn't for you."
"Human, huh?" She raised her right hand and stared at the blackened limb. She still hadn't been able to figure out how to do anything more than take her mask off. What was the point of all her new gifts if she couldn't do anything more than stopping purse snatchers or the weekly Supervillains? She was too late to stop that murderer when he was still human...
"Gwen-"
"I wanna visit mom." Her dad blinked in surprise as the sudden interruption, "Mom's grave, I mean-"
"I know what you mean, honey. It's just..." He shook his head, "After what happened I don't think it's a good time to go to the cemetery. It's going to be crowded..." She looked down and bit her lip at the reminder, "Look, in a few days, I promise. Right now...now I just want you to relax, alright? No hero work, no meeting with Peter or anything else. Please."
"Yeah...sure." She hugged her knees to her chest and buried the lower half of her face into her legs. She couldn't face her friends like this anyway, "...I love you, dad."
"Love you too, Gwen." He kissed her in the forehead and stood up, "I'm gonna go make some hot chocolate then we can go watch re-runs of Dad Cop...if you want, I mean."
"Yeah...wouldn't miss it for the world."
The trip back to his apartment was remarkably uneventful. The roads were clogged with police cars, ambulances and barricades, but no one gave him a second glance. He was injured and beaten down but so were hundreds of others. The fact that he was even walking upright and not screaming about how much he needed help meant that he was safely ignored from everyone else in the crowd.
Now if only the screens were off.
Despite his better judgement his attention was drawn to another news report, "-while the identities of the heroes led by Captain America are well-known the other vigilantes and Gifted that helped protect the city are still unknown. It has been confirmed that the disgraced detective Frank Castle was part of the group spearheaded by Spider-Man, but the others in the group are still unknown-"
He tightened his hood over his head and wished that he still had his noise cancelling headphones with him. They were all caught: Stars-and-Stripes' group, him and his 'team' and even a few others like Osborn or Jones. Despite the tragedy some news outlets were already trying to spin the 'Hero craze'. It was disgusting; even now people focused on the people that stood out over the hundreds that died.
It didn't help that Spider-Man and that clawed partner of his were caught, too...
His apartment building was remarkably untouched, at least in the sense that there were only two ambulances and a single cop car. Peter stepped past the milling crowd and made his way up the stairs. He just wanted to forget all about this and run away from his problems like he always did.
Any plans of that were dashed when he saw Lana sleeping on the couch with half her face covered in a fresh set of bandages that covered the worst of her wounds. Her exposed left eye and the side of her face still had its fair share of nasty bruises, but at least they didn't look life-threatening.
He only managed two steps into the apartment before Dog came bounding out of the room towards him, his barks as loud and rapid as ever, "Huh? Whuzza fuck?" Lana sat up quickly, both hands raised and glowing in the direction of the door before she saw it was him, "Oh, Pete...hey. You took a while..." She brought a hand through her hair and yawned briefly before quickly wincing, "Ah, still fucking stings..."
"...What are you doing here?"
"Hello to you too, huh?" She stood up into a shaky stand and gestured to the kitchen table, "Made us some drinks, thought you'd be-"
"Why aren't you with your mother?"
She paused at the sudden hostility in his tone and shrugged, "She's with grandma...figured the two could talk it out better without me hanging around. They're kinda wondering what do with me now considering my mom's out of a job and might not have custody of me anymore." She shook her head, "Look, can we not talk about it? I kinda just wanna forget all this shit-"
"Leave. Now."
Even through the bandages the shock and hurt on her face was clear as day. He would've been lying if he said he didn't feel anything seeing her like that, "Wh-What the hell? What's with you all of a sudden?"
"It's nothing. Just leave." He couldn't do this. Not now, not with her. He was already confused enough as it was, talking with another person who (for whatever reason) didn't want him to leave this madhouse behind was the last thing he needed, "I wanna be alone..." He walked past her and placed both hands on the table, his gaze leveled downwards.
She didn't leave. Peter sucked in a deep breath when she stepped closer and tugged on the back of his jacket, "Pete, what's wrong? You're-"
"I said fuck off!" He shook off her hand and turned to glare at her. Her remaining eye was wide and she stepped back when she saw his open snarl, "I'm not your brother, Lana! You don't have to pretend you give a shit about me! Just leave!"
Her expression morphed from shock to a white-hot glare, "Pretend?! I nearly got killed saving your fucking ass! I didn't give myself these bruises, asshole! I got them trying to save you!"
"I didn't ask you to! I told you to escape with your family so don't put that on me!" This was wrong, he knew that, but he couldn't stop the next words that came out of his mouth, "Your mom's awake! You don't have to be here anymore so just leave me alone!"
"God, fuck- what's wrong with you?!" She stepped closer and looked up at him defiantly, "You really want me to leave?! You wanna be alone in this fucking shithole of an apartment with that fucking board you obsess over every day?! Is that really what you want?!"
"I think I made that obvious! Get the hell out!"
They continued to glare at one another before she eventually looked away. He wished he'd missed it, but he saw the tears in her eye even through her best attempt to hide it, "F-Fine..." She choked back, her fists shaking, "Have nice fucking life, asshole!"
She ran out the entrance and closed it behind her with a loud slam. A part of him was tempted to run after her and apologize, to tell her that he didn't mean it and he didn't want her to leave, but he drowned it out. Dog whimpered up at him and made his way to the other room; probably chasing after her. Peter ignored the pup and looked back at the table.
The two mugs weren't anything special; just a couple with garish colors they bought at a sale for a laugh. Scowling, Peter swept them off the table and let them fall on the floor with a loud crash, "Fuck..." He stepped past the shattered porcelain and coffe and opened the cabinet to pull out a bottle of whiskey. He didn't get drunk for long but it sure as hell wouldn't stop him from trying.
He finished the bottle in one go and picked up another. He was dizzy and unbalanced, but that was hardly the worst he'd gotten. He took two more bottles and trudged into his room.
Peter took two steps into the room and almost tripped when his foot slipped on the small book lying on the ground, "God damn it..." He placed the bottles on the small cabinet and picked up the worn leather booklet. The kid's diary...his diary, actually. He hadn't actually read it in all the months he had it. Too afraid of what he'd find inside or that it could make his nightmares worse.
He opened the first page and nearly dropped it outright when he saw the picture inside. A family picture: Ben and May to the left while George and a laughing Helen Stacy stood on the other side. At the center were him and Gwen looking no older than 8 or 9 years old, both of them flashing open grins at the camera and holding up a plastic replica of Stars-and-Stripes' shield.
It came to him again all at once. The past 6 months were a lie and he'd just deluded himself. He should have died that night when he turned himself into a monster, but instead he was here playing the butt of a joke only the Spider-God knew about.
He fell on his knees and cried. It was over...he couldn't go back to the place he thought was his home, but what was the alternative? Staying here and disappointing Gwen and the Parkers who expected the Peter they knew to come back at some point? He didn't belong there, but he didn't belong here either.
Another spasm of pain shot up his right and he screamed. Peter fell on his side and screamed as the pain worsened, "It doesn't belong to you!" He shut his eyes and tried to drown out the deafening voice, "You know the truth! Now give it back!"
Clawed fingers wrapped themselves around his neck and his breathing slowed. Peter kicked the hallucinatory(?) assailant and crawled back to the discarded box, "Get out of my head..." He searched inside desperately and pulled out a half-filled syringe full of suppressant.
The injection was more painful than he was expecting, but it was worth it. The scales on his arm receded and he gasped, barely managing to hold himself up with both hands, "God..." He threw away the syringe and heaved, though nothing came, "Help me...Gwen...anyone help me...please..." He fell on his side again and shut his eyes. It was too much. He didn't know what do anymore.
He stayed curled on the ground until he eventually fell into a dreamless sleep.
Yeah...told you guys it'd be angsty as shit :X Sorry about that, but hey you all were warned. Gwen's (kinda) on the road to recovery because papa Stacy is awesome while Noir fucks things up yet again and alienates one of the few people he could've honestly confided in...about what you could expect, really.
So yeah, that's that. On a lighter note - on a scale of '1' to 'No fucking way' what are my chances of pairing Gwen and/or Peter with anyone else after this chapter, especially after Peter's little Q and A with George about what the deal between the two of them was? Cause I'm wondering if I've committed to this pairing wholesale now or there's still a chance to switch out.
I'm sorry if this chapter was too Noir-centric; I probably could've had Gwen have the POV for the first segment. Noir also gets more focus than Gwen in the upcoming arcs, though she'll still be present. Apologies for anyone that wanted more Spider-Gwen focus
Oh, and don't worry; I took the pro-sanity arguments for the serum into account so don't think the end of the chapter means I disregarded the winning vote
Question (kinda important):
1. Should I show some other viewpoints outside of Gwen and Peter and how they're picking up the pieces as well or just skip straight to the next arc? If yes I might be able to show how Spider-Man, Jessica, Cindy and possibly even Lana (considering her soap opera act with Noir) and how they were affected. The narration indicates they were all caught on video doing hero work, so Jessica in particular would probably get in trouble since she tends not to wear masks.
So yeah...next chapter is another one like this or just jump ahead to the next arc and how the city reacts to Earth-65's version of 'The Incident', particularly the fact that the only reason the city's still standing are cause of independent heroes and vigilantes?
2. Are you guys fine with the current tone of the chapters or should I make it a tad lighter? My other fic Twisted Reflections got some comments on being too depressing and grim and I'm wondering if people feel the same way here?
Review Answer:
Cyclopz - Glad you liked it
Anyway, I'm doing one chapter, so pick your scenario wisely.KasugaRomio - Yeah, Gwen killing someone definitely shifts her character around along with finding out about SHIELD's little backroom experiments.
Dr. Sugarcakes - Here's more darkness to that cake of blackness and misery you're eating
Hope you like it Yohart Meltz - Hey you knew that Noir is one of the main characters, so the story being kinda dark is to be expected. Anyway, stick around; lets see if these two have any chance for a happy ending or they follow the route of every Spider hero and get crapped on because Anansi's an asshole.
Krolikson - Yeah...what was that about waiting?
Loktarogar
The Apex of Cuddling
- Location
- Brazil
Half-healing chapter, then the next half Noir emotional weight comes crashing down, very good writing Eratas, especially Noir admitting weakness at the end of the chapter.
Lana and Cindy would be perfect in my opinion, in case you try to change POVs about dealing with Noir depression, and next chapter, in my opinion, should focus on Noir, as the 'healing'(in the writing sense) would be cathartic to see, even if it is just a little.
focusing on the MCs(Noir, Gwen) aftermatch would be Ideal, one chapter to each of them would be good, of course, it would not solve everything, but just give hope and a description that they are working to deal with it.
Right now the tone is perfect for the current situation, but when shifting to the next arc, try to make it lighter, maybe with Peter and Gwen for a change bringing the best of each other and healing each other(basically cuddly feels).
Hope I answered the questions to your liking
Lana and Cindy would be perfect in my opinion, in case you try to change POVs about dealing with Noir depression, and next chapter, in my opinion, should focus on Noir, as the 'healing'(in the writing sense) would be cathartic to see, even if it is just a little.
focusing on the MCs(Noir, Gwen) aftermatch would be Ideal, one chapter to each of them would be good, of course, it would not solve everything, but just give hope and a description that they are working to deal with it.
Right now the tone is perfect for the current situation, but when shifting to the next arc, try to make it lighter, maybe with Peter and Gwen for a change bringing the best of each other and healing each other(basically cuddly feels).
Hope I answered the questions to your liking
Noir's fight with Lana felt kinda contrived, but fuck it.
If you want another aftermwath chapter it's not about Noir or Gwen, it's about the different fallouts. Example: Cindy's POV concerns what SHIELD plans to do about the aftermath, Jessica's is about her being officially outed as a Gifted since she used her strength to save people, Lana's would be about her family finding out her powers and Spider-Man's would be about meeting his clone and dealing with everything else.
Right now the tone is perfect for the current situation, but when shifting to the next arc, try to make it lighter, maybe with Peter and Gwen for a change bringing the best of each other and healing each other(basically cuddly feels).
Hope I answered the questions to your liking
Do you really want cuddly stuff? I mean I tried that with the Cabin retreat and that got mixed views due to how weird it was for them to start playing truth or dare and shit.
Loktarogar
The Apex of Cuddling
- Location
- Brazil
Eh? I like it *Shrugs* maybe just a simple date would work as a prologue to the next arc.
Dating? Um...the two aren't in a relationship and it's the last thing on their mind right now. Would be odd if they did.
Loktarogar
The Apex of Cuddling
- Location
- Brazil
Well, officially they are not because Peter was unable to do it because he thought he was gonna go back to Noirverse, but looking at how he was thinking about how much he wants to stay in this chap and saying out loud he loves Gwen, I can see him letting his guard down and an invitation to hang-out/date from Gwen being accepted.
Yeah, but Gwen herself is also pretty down what with her wanting to visit her mom's grave and calling Peter out on his inconsistent identity issues. Still, if you really want a date thing I might be able to put it in; just seems weird given the city's in dire straits right now.
Chapter 80 - Setting the Stage
So just read through the latest Amazing Spider-Man and...yeah, Dan Slott done fucked it up. Peter's back to square one: no job, everyone hates him (both as Peter and Spider-Man, which is even more stupid) and his friends (aside from Mockingbird) have basically abandoned him. Great, just what I wanted to read about - a grown man being a couch surfer loser despite being capable of so much more.
Renew your Vows is a tad better, though there was this weird 8 year timeskip due to Marvel Legacy so now we have Spider-Girl: Resurrection on our hands. Let's see if they can make it work.
Slight warning: Lana's segment can be pretty cringey, but she's a 15 year old girl who's angsting so you kinda expect it to be.
Anyway, I just got both Evil Within 2 and Shadow of War and Spider-Gwen's new issue is coming out in 3 days so...I'll see you guys then, I guess. This chapter is mostly filler, but what few votes I got picked this over jumping to the next arc. Don't forget to leave a like and/or a post. The noticeable downturn of both in the recent chapter was rather discouraging
Chapter 80: Setting the Stage
God fucking damn it...
Jessica brought a hand across her face and took a deep breath, the stench of mud, ash and blood wafting up her nostrils. Ever since she found out she was a freak she'd always had one rule: never show it off. She knew what Dorothy would do if she ever found out. She'd be lucky if she could walk down the street again without being seen as Patsy's freakshow friend and being paraded around like she was on the fucking circus. Even Trish only found out by accident.
She'd eased up on the rule when she grew up. After a while it became obvious that people just ignored and turned away from what they didn't understand and that was just fine with her. She wasn't afraid of using her 'gifts' to browbeat some nightclub owner who wouldn't accept a subpeona or a waste of skin who blamed her for his wife cheating on him, but anything above that was a definite hell no. She didn't put on a costume (despite Trish's pleas) and she didn't waste her time trying to fix something everyone else wanted broken. It worked just fine for her.
Or at least it did.
"God fucking damn it..." Jessica pressed her head down and groaned, causing the couch to creak beneath her. She should've stayed down, just bolted her door closed and let the Superheroes and everyone else deal with the zombie invasion. But no, instead she had to go out there with nothing but a goddamned hood - cause Gwen's midget boyfriend stole her scarf and she didn't have another - to keep her face covered.
Which didn't work very well considering the fact that she was just one of the many 'Gifted' whose picture the news circulated non-stop ever since this clusterfuck ended.
She desperately wanted to shut the damn TV off, but Trish's presence beside her on the couch kept her from just throwing something through the screen. The blonde leaned across the seat, her eyes wide and her mouth curled up into a smile that she tried (and fucking failed) to keep hidden. She was probably eating this shit up.
Jessica looked up and groaned again when she saw another news report with her picture on the upper right screen. The picture had her lifting a car off of a poor kid who nearly had his legs crushed; and right then and there she really wanted to get her hands on the fucking asshole who thought taking a picture of her was more important than running away or trying to get help. She was sure Trish thought the picture looked 'positively heroic', but she really couldn't share that thought right now with her mug plastered all over the news.
"Turn that shit off, Trish..." She leaned back on the couch and covered her eyes with her right arm. Maybe if she pretended this was all a dream everyone else would, too.
"Running away doesn't solve anything, Jess." Always with the inspirational BS; she should've been making PSA's next to Captain America.
Jessica shifted her arm and cracked one eye open to look at her. She was untouched from all the carnage and mayhem that happened down below, though that was to be expected considering where she lived. She had no idea why Trish didn't move out after Frost's kidnapping, but she was always like that. Even after Jessica threatened to cook Howard for thanksgiving - ignoring his complaints that he was a duck and not a turkey - she knew that the two of them were still meeting up for cases.
Trish turned to look at her, her eyes far too cheery considering recent events, "How could you not be thrilled about this?" She gestured to the television, "You're a hero! They're singing your praises- I mean, how many people did you save by going out there?"
"Less than every other clown dressed in spandex, I'll tell you that much," Jessica replied, "Look, what's it matter? All they caught was a brunette in a jacket lifting a car. That could be anyone in this city."
That was bullshit and she knew it. Sure, most people had no clue who she was since she wasn't famous like Trish or She-Hulk or whatever, but anyone who knew her would recognize that face. Some of the tentants in her apartment, Trish, George, Gwen, Kate, Trish's bitch of a mom...they all would've recognized her. Most of them would've kept their mouth shut, but at least a few of them wouldn't.
...She really needed a drink. Damn tagalong.
"Look, Jess, I know it's fucked up and people died but...well, the city's saved, right? And you were out there helping the heroes save everyone." Trish put a hand on her shoulder. Jessica tried not to think about the fact that one of those fingers was a prosthetic meant to replace what that bastard took away, "Look, George knows about your powers so there's no problem-"
"There's a big fucking problem!" Jessica stood up and shut the TV off before she could complain, "My face is out there now, Trish! People in my apartment know who I am! Your mother knows who I am! You think they won't try to do something about this? Won't go to the press and give them everything they know about me to get some money or their 5 minutes of fame? Fuck..."
She'd hidden her powers for a reason, and now it was all out in the open. A part of her hoped that just maybe Gwen and the rest of her superstar squad would take the heat off of her, but she knew this city. People here dug and scratched and clung at anything that they could get. She'd probably have to switch offices, go somewhere else in the city where the tenants weren't desperate enough to give the papers everything they knew about her.
She shouldn't have gone out there, but of course she didn't do the smart play. There were a shitload of excuses she could've used: it was none of her business, Gwen and the others would've fixed it themselves, she was fucking pregnant...none of which she actually used, naturally. She blamed George and Gwen; hanging around with a couple of modern day saints like the two of them would turn anyone stupid.
It was a fucking cliche, but there it was. She'd let herself get sucked in to their little world of justice always prevailing and now she was paying the price.
Her body stiffened Trish stood up to join her and placed another hand at her back. Trish knew that she wasn't one for hugs and circlejerks, so this was enough, "Look, Jess, I know you're pissed about all of this, but you did save people. You don't have to put on a costume or anything, but it happened."
"Yeah...and I didn't call myself Jewel, so that's something." The joke was poor, but the two sisters shared a strained smile regardless. She never got Trish or Gwen's insistence on putting on costumes and trying to stop purse snatchers. What was the point? There'd always be another bad guy out there, a thousand other lazy fuckers who thought that taking something from someone else was better than actually working for it. Trying to stop that was like trying to stomp ants; it never stopped no matter how many you stamped out.
"Hey, you know I still got that costume-"
"Trish?"
"Hmm?" She hummed, looking at her with that goddamn infectious smile of hers.
"Burn that thing in a dumpster fire." She shook off her hand and put on her jacket again. Least Spider-Man didn't take that from her while she wasn't looking, "Look, I need to get out of here, clear my head or something..."
"You can't just ignore it, Jess."
"Yeah, I know. This little tagalong's making sure of that." Going cold turkey from the booze was a nightmare, and contrary to what those saps thought that power of love bullshit didn't make it any fucking easier. George was a good man, but he couldn't stop the sweats, the headaches and the feeling of wanting to vomit out damn near everything she ate. It was getting better now, but it sure as hell wasn't cause someone held her hand through the whole thing.
"My future niece or nephew, you mean." Jessica rolled her eyes. She would've thought that Trish would have one of those fits about being an aunt, but it was the exact opposite; she was all smiles and congratulations when she found out about their 'happy little accident', "Hey, that's one more reason. Imagine being a kid with a Superhero for a mom; it'd make career day real exciting, at least."
"Yeah, right before they get kidnapped," she muttered. Honestly it boggled her how she was still so damn cheery after her first stint into 'that world' ended with her getting kidnapped and one of her fingers cut off. Then again maybe she was just used to fucked up shit: living with that bitch for a mom must have numbed her to people taking things from her.
"Hey, I'm not saying go out there while you're carrying the new addition with you, but what about afterwards? I can look after them while you go out and be a Super-"
"Do not say the H word," she interrupted, her voice holding more than a small hint of annoyance, "Look, just let me mope in peace, alright? I'll call back when I-"
Her words were drowned out by the sudden ringing of Trish's phone. Jessica looked past her to the cellphone on the table and scowled when she saw Dorothy's name plastered on the screen, "...If she asks, we haven't talked." She opened the window and looked down. Fire escape wasn't ideal, but she couldn't risk running into that bitch on the elevator down, "You hear me, Trish? Nothing."
"Jess-"
"Nothing."
Trish wanted to say something, but she never gave her a chance. The words were barely out of her mouth before Jessica jumped down the window and landed on the fire escape. She took a second to get her bearings before she jumped down again, landing on the wet alley with a muted smack. The rain returned a few minutes ago in a light drizzle and she tightened her jacket over herself. Walking back in the rain...heh, just like old times.
The hood felt almost suffocating over her head, but it was worth it. Jessica did her best to ignore the ambulances and the police cars that were way too damn late to the party. Where the hell were they when she was and the rest of these suicidal idiots were running themselves ragged trying to fight off a bunch of fucked up zombies? She definitely could've used more guys with guns over morons with smartphones.
It took her half an hour to make it back to her place. Jessica looked up at the run-down building and let out a cold breath, 'Just keep your head down and don't talk to anyone...' She pressed her hood tighter over her head and grimaced. With any luck everyone else would already be asleep and she wouldn't have to deal with any more bullshit because of her dumbass move.
No such luck, of course.
She'd barely stepped into the lobby before the landlord looked up at her. The fat old bastard was always leering at anyone he could get away with - she was pretty sure it was part of the damn lease or something - but the look in his eyes was different this time. She could tell the same lust and fascination as before, but now there was a hint of fear that definitely wasn't there before. He knew who she was, what she could do.
Jessica ignored him and trudged up the stairs, his gaze boring into her back until she was finally out of sight. The private investigator winced and pulled down her hood. No point in trying to hide here; she didn't even know why she fucking tried. She was pretty sure everyone here recognized the jacket just as much as they did her face.
Her feelings only worsened when she caught the damn wonder twins talking in the hallway, 'God damn it...' She sighed. Of all her neighbors those two were the most annoying. Ruben was a man-child: at least 20 years old but barely acted half of that. Annoying, but hardly the worst thing she had to deal with every day. No, the problem was his damn sister.
What could she say about Robyn? Well apart from the fact that she was a massive control freak who dictated when and where her brother could wipe his ass she was pretty damn sure that she also had weird incestous fantasies about the guy considering her tendency to call him 'poobear'...and poo was really the last thing she wanted to think about considering that asswipe comment.
"H-Hey, Jessica!" Ruben raised his left hand in an awkward half-wave. Again, annoying but harmless, "You were on TV, right? The one-"
"No."
She walked past them; or at least she tried to. She only managed two steps past the two of them before Robyn spoke up, "...Freak."
"...Excuse me?" She tried to ignore it, she really did, but there was something about that control freak's voice that pissed her off to no end. All judgement and sneers while completely ignoring her own damn problems. Jessica was a lot of things, but at least she admitted how fucked up she was.
"You're a freak," Robyn repeated, her voice carrying throughout the hallway, "Sleeping with old men, leaving booze everywhere and now this? Bet you think you're so much better, huh? Some kind of celebrity like Captain America or-"
That was as far as she got before Jessica grabbed the front of her shirt and pulled her close. The younger woman's eyes widened and she opened her mouth to scream something back, but Jessica was faster, "Shut the hell up." She slammed her on the wall and scowled, "I know you hate me cause your brother wants to fuck me instead of you, but leave me the fuck alone. I don't care about your goddamn wet dreams or what you think of me."
"W-We don't sleep together..." Ruben muttered weakly. Jessica ignored him.
"You tell anyone about me and you're gonna see just how much of a freak I am, do you get me?" Robyn nodded quickly, her eyes wide, "Good. Now leave me the fuck alone."
She shoved her away from the wall and made her way to her office, slamming the door behind her before either of the two could say anything else. Jessica looked around the messy interior and sighed, trudging towards her desk and collapsing face-first into the worn wood as soon as she took a seat. She was still backed up on at least two cases, but that was the last thing on her mind. If the wonder twins and her landlord knew then what else could she expect?
Something told her the next few days were gonna be absolute shit...
Fucking asshole cocksucker son of a fucking bitch!
Lana grit her teeth and ran down the street in a daze, pushing past the milling crowds and ignoring the curses they spat at her. They were pissed, but hey join the fucking club. All of them were pissed. People either lost others close to them or one of those zombies ripped off their arms or eyes or balls; or, if they were really unlucky, they lost their lives and they'd be put in some mass grave somewhere cause the cemeteries didn't have room.
Boo fucking hoo. She felt sorry for them, she really did, but right now with her face banged up to all hell and Peter suddenly acting like King Asshole she really didn't have enough time to stand on some silent fucking vigil.
She rounded the corner and stopped when she felt something nuzzle her leg, "The fuck? Spider-Pug?" The tiny pup looked up at her with a small whine, nuzzling his snout against the fabric of her torn black jeans, "What are you doing here?"
He didn't answer, of course. Damn dog could sniff out a celebrity through all of Hell's Kitchen but he couldn't talk. Sighing, Lana, picked up the pug and held him close to her chest, "You're gonna fucking drown out here..." She covered him with her jacket and he burrowed closer into the warm cloth. Good thing they got rid of any fleas weeks ago, "...Come on, let's get outta this rain."
She couldn't go back to her grandma's place; the last thing she needed was to talk to that old crone, especially with her mom there, too. It'd just be another argument about her job and how she was a disappointment to her 'poor, poor mother' every day she was still alive. She probably wouldn't give a crap that the two of them were nearly gutted at a hospital by some kind of tentacle monster.
She found herself walking on autopilot while keeping Spider-Pug close to her. It wasn't hard for her to figure out where she was heading and despite everything inside her telling her that there'd be nothing there she kept going, pushing past the crowds and the worried paramedics who wanted to take a look at her. They had more to worry about than a girl with some bruises on her face.
Her walk ended when she stood in front of her condemned apartment. The landlord was too damn cheap to fix the place up so after she blew most of the kitchen into tiny little pieces she just put a 'Do not enter' sign and some tape in front of the door. Considering a serial killer nearly killed her and her mom here she wasn't surprised no one wanted to try their luck.
Lana knocked the sign away and stepped over the tape. Back here again...she let Spider-Pug out of her jacket and he immediately ran through the area, stopping with another whine when he caught sight of the still-destroyed kitchen. It looked almost identical to two months ago; only difference was most of her stuff was gone and the entire place was caked in dust.
"Home sweet home..." She wiped off the layer of dust on the couch and sat. Spider-Pug continued to trot around the place, but she paid him no mind. Right now the only thing on her mind was...
Fuck.
She shut her eyes tight and took a deep breath. How pathetic was this? She nearly got killed, Lily and that bastard knew she had powers and there were fucking corpses on the street...and despite all that fucked up shit the only thing she could think of right now was that argument with Peter.
"Get the hell out!"
"Fuck you too, asshole..." She quickly wiped away the few tears that almost escaped and took a shuddering breath. 2 months and after everything they'd been through he suddenly kicked her to the damned curb just like that. He was just the same as everyone else - they played along, pretended they gave a shit about her until suddenly she was inconvenient and they wanted nothing to do with her. Same thing every damn time...
Sighing, she adjusted her place on the couch and placed her head against the old leather, her eyes drooping. She was exhausted; she had to take so much painkillers to be able to stand up that she was pretty sure she'd have overdosed if it wasn't for her powers. Lana let her eyes close, barely catching sight of Spider-Pug trotting past her and leaving through the door.
She didn't know how long she was asleep, but by the time she woke up she heard the sound of footsteps approaching the door, "Huh...?" She sat up in a rush and aimed her left hand at the doorway in a panic.
"Lana?"
"...Mom?" She lowered her arm and blinked in surprise at the sight of her mom standing at the doorway. She wasn't dressed in the hospital gown anymore, making do instead with a red jacket and a pair of brown khakis and boots, "Wha...What are you doing here?"
"Well, this dog came to our house and..." She looked back and trailed off when she found nothing there, "What the- he was just here."
"Yeah, SP kinda does that..." She sat up properly and yawned. She still felt tired as shit, but she wasn't gonna get any sleep now that her mom was here, "Well...come in. Pretty sure we've still got a couple of years of rent paid in advance to this shithole."
"Doubt Mrs. Maillard thinks so." She sat next to her on the couch and Lana smiled slightly. Things were still shit, but at least she wasn't alone, "So...why are you here? Last you told me you were gonna talk to Spider-Man, make sure that he was still alive and all that."
"He's alive..." And he was a fucking asshole. Lana bit her lip and looked away to try and hide it, but her mom saw it clear as day.
"...What happened?"
"He's an asshole, that's what happened." She sniffed loudly and coughed, "Went over there to talk to him, see if he was alright after he and Spider-Woman fought that fucking monster and then he just goes off on me. Tells me to get the fuck out and that I didn't have to pretend to give a shit about him now that you were up and kicking again. Guess he really did think he was just babysitting while you were taking your beauty sleep."
"Beauty sleep? Kiddo, there was nothing beautiful about that." She replied, her voice oddly light considering where they were, "Look, I'm sure there's an-"
"An explanation? What, like there was an 'explanation' for 'dad' calling me gutter trash to my face when she caught Lily hanging out with me? Why grandma looks at me like I'm a piece of shit that she just can't get rid of? Yeah, here's an explanation: people are fucking assholes. I've got these powers and nothing's changed; everyone'll still treat you like shit no matter what you do."
"...Maybe, but I'm not sure if Spider-Man's one of them. I remember what he did when that thing showed up. He tried to save us, tried to fight that thing by himself to make sure you, me and everybody else could make it out. That doesn't seem like something someone who didn't give a shit would do."
"Tch..." Lana clicked her tongue and looked down, though she didn't have a rebuttal. Pete was an asshole, but she owed him; that was something she definitely couldn't forget. If he wasn't there her mom would be six feet under and that bastard Carter would've been killing more prostitutes and junkies.
"...You like him, don't you?"
"Wha?!" She looked at her mom, her cheeks heated an annoying tinge of red that caused the older woman to laugh, "The fuck are you- no! I don't-"
"Oh, give it up, kiddo. I might've been a corpse for a couple of months but I know my daughter." She wrapped her arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, "I saw it in your eyes when you looked at him, and the way you talk about him...hah, a neon sign would've been more subtle. You looked just like Susan Storm in that shitty sitcom."
"No, I didn't..." She wondered just how her mom would react to knowing she had Sue's number on her phone.
"Sure, and I'm a totally functional and balanced parent." She rolled her eyes and let Lana scoot away to put some space between them, "Look, Lana, I'm the last person to be giving relationship advice - Lord knows I've made my share of fuck-ups in that department - but I'm telling you now: you don't wanna leave it like this. I dunno what happened between you two, but I can tell you both care about each other. You wouldn't have gone back inside the hospital for just anyone."
"I...I just owe him, that's all." She chewed on her bottom lip nervously. She and her mom didn't have many mother-daughter talks; kinda hard to do that when you find out that your mom blew strangers to put you through school.
"Alright, if you say so." She put her hands up in surrender and shrugged, "All I'm saying is from what I've seen of him he's not like William or mom; they definitely wouldn't have stuck their neck out back at that hospital for you, powers or no. If you wanna end it here then I won't say anything, but if you wanna try to fix this then I'll try to help, too. I've got two months of being a parent to catch up to."
"I'll take you not blowing random guys anymore, if that's allowed." She clenched her hands, the rings of light encircling her palms again, "...You know, Captain America made me an offer to join S.H.I.E.L.D when I turned 18. We save up our money and for a couple more years and I'll be able to pay for a roof over our head, food...everything. You don't have to go back out there anymore."
"I couldn't even if I wanted to. No one wants someone with shotgun scars on her stomach." Her mom's smile was bitter. It didn't give her a good feeling, "...And if you do get that Superhero job it'll have to be without me."
"What? Why?" She sat up straighter and ignored the burst of pain at the sudden movement, "I-I know you and grandma said something about custody, but I figured you were just trying to get me out of the house."
"I wouldn't joke about that, kiddo." She looked down and exhaled deeply, hands pressed together, "Look, everyone knew I was a slut; it was an open secret, but social services didn't give a shit. They had bigger problems. But after that serial killer case...well, suddenly people paid attention. They think it's cause of my job that I was targeted, that it's why you were nearly killed-"
"Bullshit!" Lana spat, "That son of a bitch was insane! That's not your fault!"
"Well, try telling them that. Far as they're concerned it was cause of my 'corruption' that you were put in so much danger." She brought a hand through her hair and sighed, "Lana, I won't lie to you: it doesn't look good. At this rate I'll be lucky if I'll be allowed to visit you. We...I don't think I'm gonna get custody of you-"
"This isn't fucking fair!" Lana stood up and growled, kicking at the table and tipping it upside down. First Peter and now her mom...what the fuck did she do to have God shit on her?! "So what, I'm supposed to live with grandma? Just deal with her treating me like the redheaded stepkid?"
"Well, that or..." She took a deep breath and met her gaze, "William's been calling."
"Yeah, what's that asshole want?"
"What do you think? He finds out his unwanted daughter has powers you think he won't ask questions? Honestly I'm surprised it took him this long." The older woman clenched her hands tightly, "I think...I think he might be the one to-"
"No...no, no, no! Fuck that! It's not happening!" She screamed, causing her mom to wince, "He doesn't get to change his mind just because I finds out I can blow things up with my bare hands!"
"It's either that or they try to find relatives outside of New York because I think mom's about had enough. She said you spend most of your nights outside, that you don't go back home." She crossed her arms and gave her a pointed look, "I understand why you did it, but when social services start asking it doesn't exactly send a good message when your granddaughter spends most of the week out with her supposed boyfriend."
"Fuck...!" Lana pressed both hands against her face and growled, "So...what do we do now?"
"Honestly? There's nothing we can do. I can try to take it to court, but I doubt it's gonna do well. A prostitute against a rich politician and mayoral candidate? I'd be lucky if I wasn't banned from ever seeing you again."
"This is fucked..." Lana sat back down and looked down at the floor, her hands balled into tight fists, "I dunno what that asshole wants, but if he's after this-" She summoned the rings again, "-then I'm not holding my fucking breath that it's gonna be any good."
"Maybe," she said, "Look, Lana...I don't know what's gonna happen the next few days, but I wanna try to make up for those two months before..." She shook her head, "Anything you need-"
"Just for tonight can we forget about all the drama and just go out?" Lana interrupted, "The diner nearby's still open and from what I saw old Janey doesn't give a shit about the clusterfuck earlier. Let's just get something to eat and...I dunno, talk."
"Uh...alright, Lana. Whatever you want."
Yeah, whatever she wanted...fuck all this bullshit. If there really was a God or Fate or whatever then they could stick it. She didn't need any help making her life more shit than it already was, thanks.
Cindy always had mixed feelings about returning back to the S.H.I.E.L.D compounds. The sterile walls and automatic doors reminded her too much of the bunker to her liking. Sure, there were always people milling around so she never felt alone, but even then the feeling of being trapped underground never left her. The bunker was both her home and her prison for a decade and for those days after she got rescued by S.H.I.E.L.D the base was the same. A place for her to hone her skills, to try and acquaint herself with the people who rescued her.
A place she wasn't allowed to leave till they decided to let her.
The spider heroine clenched her right hand and looked up at the door that led to Maria Hill's office. She didn't like Agent Hill, and as far as as she was aware that was a very common view to have. Listened to? Of course. Respected? Many of them, yes. But actually liked? The amount of people that actually had positive things to say about the senior agent as a person were so rare that they were practically myths.
Taking a deep breath, she pressed her keycard on the scanner and stepped into the room as soon as the door whooshed open. She hadn't really talked to Agent Hill much, which Bobby joked(?) was one of the few blessings she was given. She was a lot of things, but 'tolerant' and 'flexible' weren't two of them. She liked it when everything fell into a certain order and she had all the advantages.
Which meant she held a certain grudge against 'mavericks' like her, Gwen, Peter and (from what she gathered) even Kate.
The senior agent looked up from her desk when she entered, her lips pressed into a thin line and her eyes narrowed. Cindy thought it made her look constipated, "Agent Moon. Good, you're here. Take a seat, please."
She was really tempted not to, but insubordination (even if she was barely an agent) was worse than her paranoia. She definitely didn't want to give her any excuses to ground her down here again, "Um, alright..." She sat on the (wooden, which was a rarity here) chair across from the large desk and crossed her right leg over her left, "Is there, uh...any reason you called for me, miss?"
"Yes, I was hoping you'd clear something up for me." She set the file she was holding down on the table and tapped her finger on the metal surface, "I've gotten security footage which implicates you to a break-in at Oscorp's tech labs. I trust you have a justification for doing this outside of wanting to place yourself under charges of sabotage and theft?"
"Right, that..." Cindy closed her right eye and scratched the back of her head, "Well...alright, Osborn wanted to help and he's the one who knows how to use the glider and the suit better than everyone else. Things were desperate..." She licked her lips. The excuse sounded weak even to her, and she had personal reason to dislike him. A few more days and she would've been on the other end of that syringe.
"So you decided to trust the word of a former fugitive?"
"Trust? No, but I didn't exactly have much choice." She shook her head, "I didn't want to, I even tried to ignore him, but all those monsters...there were too many of them. I saw videos of 'The Goblin' and I thought the benefits outweighed the risks..." She paused to consider her next words, "We were being overwhelmed, Agent Hill. I don't have to like Osborn to understand we needed all the help we could get."
"Be that as it may we now have an unstable former fugitive running amok with access to military grade ordinance."
"What do you want me to do? Beat him up and take the armor back?" The older woman's eyes narrowed and Cindy winced. Powers or no she was scary, "Look, he said he'd give back the armor and bombs after it was done. If he doesn't then I'll make him, alright? I stand by my decision, and from what I've seen so far he did help save people's lives. A little theft is worth that, right?"
"That depends on who you ask. But fine, that matter is dealt with." Cindy blinked. That was...surprisingly easy, "On to the next subject at hand: reports indicate that you worked with Osborn to assault Crime Master's base and ran into two more of our hired mercenaries."
"Yeah, Shadowcat and..." The 'real' Spider-Man? How the hell was she going to tell Peter? "I, uh...Osborn said that he had a lead on the guy who stole the Lizard serum from that Lord Ogre dude and I thought that it'd be a good idea to follow him."
"A better idea would've been to tell us as soon as you received this information, but I suppose I can't fault you for your intent, especially given your inexperience. Next time forward any lead you have to us as soon as you can." Scary...but reasonable. Was everyone else just exaggerating about her? "Did you have recent contact with Osborn before coming here?"
"No, but I have his number. I was actually planning to meet him later to make sure he returned the gear." And to apologize to those guards she'd webbed to the wall. So sue her, they were rushing, "Is he under arrest?"
"Given his actions I would be more than justified, but no. He retains his freedom - though Norman Osborn will owe us more for looking the other way." She tapped the open file and nodded, "I have a new assignment for you, Agent Moon."
"Uh...okay?"
"I want you to keep an eye on Harry Osborn and report his activities back to us. I have a feeling that even without the armor and weaponry he'll attempt to try and 'redeem' himself and any abberant behavior would be useful for us to know."
"...You want me to spy on him. For blackmail against his dad."
"Yes." The blunt reply caused her to frown. She wasn't naive, despite what others might've thought, and she had little reason to defend him from what she knew of him. Still, using him as a bait to get more concessions out of a CEO made her feel dirty and two-faced, "For whatever reason he decided to place his trust in you and we aren't going to pass this up. Keep an eye on him and report any aberrant behavior."
"Right..." Great, now she was a spy. This was definitely different from those James Bond films she and her brother watched when they were younger, "Is...Is that all?"
"Yes, you're dismissed. Report back with any findings you may have."
Cindy nodded and stood. She was halfway to the door before she stopped, her mouth opening before she could think better of it, "...I wanna ask you something, Agent Hill." The senior agent looked up at her with a slight glare and she winced again, "The thing that we all tried to stop...I heard that it was something S.H.I.E.L.D created. Is that true?"
"Yes." Again, blunt. She was halfway expecting some tall tale about a framejob, "We attempted to replicate Spider-Woman's symbiote without the side-effect of the deadly radiation. As you can see it went poorly."
"But...But why?"
"Why?" She scoffed, "Simply look at the news and it's clear. Spider-Woman was given power that surpasses anyone but the likes of Jennifer Walters and she continues to parade herself around like a trained monkey. She's incapable of making difficult decisions, meaning that for all her abilities she's almost impotent. We wanted to share her abilities with one of our agents so they could do things that she's incapable and unwilling to do."
"You mean killing someone..." She bit her lip. She didn't like killing, but she had it hammered to her by Ezekiel that she'd have to if it came down to it. If 'Morlun' and the rest of his fucked up family came for her then killing had to be on the table if she wanted her and everyone she loved to survive.
"Very astute. Yes, I killing. From what we gathered on her psychological profile she seems to have a pathological avoidance to taking a life - I can only assume that it was either of the two Parkers or Pryde that ended the life of the renegade host." She closed the file, "Regardless she's of little practical use. The kinds of enemies we fight against cannot simply be punched and taken to the local jail and until she realizes this she's nothing more than a stopgap solution."
"Use? She's not a thing, you know..." Cindy took a deep breath and shook her head, "Look, how are you going to deal with this? I mean one of your experiments got loose and it killed a lot of people. Do you talk to anyone about it?"
"If you're asking if we plan to reveal our connections to the symbiote, then no, we do not."
"Wha- So you're just going to lie?"
"And spread misinformation if need be; blaming HYDRA or S.I.L.K should suffice," she replied, already looking away from her and down to another file, "The fallout if S.H.I.E.L.D were ever to be publicly connected to that monstrosity would be astronomical and a gap like that would be something our enemies would take full advantage of. You don't have to like it, Agent Moon, but you will follow. Not a word of our involvement shall leave this room."
"That's bullshit!" Hill looked up and raised an eyebrow when she stamped her foot, "Your little experiment killed hundreds of people and now you're just going to sweep it under the rug?!"
"Yes. Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D, agent. I trust the glamour's finally worn off?" The expression the older woman sported was a mix of annoyance and outright boredom, "You aren't the first one to have complaints about our methods and I'll give you the same response as I did them: find an alternative that allows you to keep everything stable while keeping your hands clean or shut up and follow your orders. Your choice."
"I didn't join this place cause I thought it'd be another S.I.L.K," she spat, "I left my evil twin behind because of what she did and now-"
"You joined us, not out of justice or some lofty ideal like you claim, but because you had no other choice," Hill interrupted, her gaze still passively annoyed, "Even assuming that you weren't detained, you have no proper identity in this world. If you'd tried to strike out on your own you'd have nothing to your name except a list of crimes a mile wide due to the actions of your native counterpart. So no, Agent Moon, you aren't the unsung hero and this isn't your triumphant stand. And I'll be expecting your report on Osborn as soon as you're able."
Cindy wanted to scream, wanted to punch her in the face and make her take it all back, but in the end she looked down and left the room, her fists shaking. Bobby was right; she was an absolute bitch.
She walked to a far enough bench and practically collapsed on top of it, both hands pressed against her head and a groan escaping her lips. Much as she hated to admit it, Hill was right: without S.H.I.E.L.D she wouldn't have a roof over her head and any papers would've been the same ones her evil twin had; and she really didn't like the idea of sharing anything more than she already did with that deranged nutjob.
She was content to sit there and stew in her angst (not like she didn't have 10 years of that already...) till she heard footsteps, "Hey, this spot taken?" She looked up and blinked when she saw Hawkeye- er, Kate, smiling down at her. Despite the bandages strewn across her face the grin was genuine, which she found more than a little impressive, "Hey, Spinerette. You look like you've been through the wringer."
"More or less." She scooted over slightly and let the younger girl sit next to her. Misery loved company and all that, "...I just had a fight with Agent Hill."
"Yeah, I figured. You wouldn't be the first." She stretched her arms above her head till her fingers cracked, "Lemme guess, she gave you the 'you're not the unsung hero and this isn't your triumphant stand' speech?"
"Uh...yeah, exactly that."
"Yeah, she gave me that too when I called her out on how she was using Hawkeye...er, the other Hawkeye. The lame one." She waved a hand through the air casually, "Look, don't let it bug you; she's not all of S.H.I.E.L.D, yeah? There are good people here, and they weren't responsible for this gigantic fuck up. I don't really know everything about you, but keep at it. You can do good here."
"But...didn't you quit?"
"Do as I say, not as I do." Kate winked conspiratorially and Cindy giggled, "Anyway, I'm glad I found you. Cap wanted me to tell you that she wanted me, you and Spider-Woman to go to Washington in a few days."
"Washington?" That was sudden. She hadn't left New York at all in her time here; and to be honest she was almost afraid to considering how weird just New York was, "She say why?"
"Nope. Just said we had to and that she already arranged our transport; I'll send you the deets when I get em. Full costume allowed, by the way, just in case you're worried anyone will recognize you without that scarf."
"Says the girl whose mask is a pair of shades." Cindy rolled her eyes and smiled, "Well, thanks for the heads up."
"No prob." She scratched at one of the bandages before she spoke up again, "Hey, you wanna get something to eat? Ms. Jones is pouting cause she got caught on cam and I don't wanna go alone. I know this great shawarma place."
"...Are you asking me out on a date?"
"Depends. You want it to be?" She leaned closer, her smile almost teasing.
"Uh..." Cindy blushed. This definitely wasn't how she saw her night going, "Um...I'm flattered, but no. You see I don't, um..I don't really play for that team, if you catch my drift? I mean no offense to you, of course."
A moment of silence passed before the other girl blinked and laughed openly, "Dude, it's 2016. If you don't like other girls just say so. I'm not gonna go all social justice warrior on you and post on tweeter that Spinerette's a bigot." She clicked her tongue and leaned back, "Still, both you and Spider-Woman? I've had the worst luck when it comes to getting a date. Just don't tell me you like Spider-Man too or I'm gonna start thinking he cursed me or something."
"Haha...no, he's just a friend."
"Well, you still wanna go out? As friends this time?"
"Sure, that's cool."
Well, maybe things were looking up after all.
"Here."
Shadowcat took the can of beer without so much as a thank you and drank it in one go, "Another..." She didn't even wait for him to say anything before she grabbed the second can and drank that too, "...Your beer's shit." She tossed the empty can at the trash can and looked at out the window again with the same glare she'd been sporting ever since they left the factory behind.
"...You're welcome." Spider-Man rolled his eyes and moved back to the fridge. Honestly he'd expected them to go their separate ways as soon as they left, but for whatever reason she stuck around...and she then she took to drinking and insulting (and not always in that order) his choice of spirits. She already burned through all his whiskey and pretty soon his beer would follow.
He grabbed four six-packs of beer and dragged them back to the window. Honestly he was tempted to try and kick her out, though given her state he wasn't confident she wouldn't just try to cut his pecker off, "Here you go, your highness." He gave her one of the cans and pulled the other one back when she tried to reach for it, "Hey, I gotta drink too. You weren't the only one who went insane back there."
"...Fine."
They sat across one another on the windowsill, the only sound between them being the twisting of metal cans being opened and and the occasional sound of creaking wood. Spider-Man drank the down the third can of beer and coughed at the taste. Next time he'd skip the beer and just put it all on whiskey. He threw the can and growled softly when it bounced off the rim and landed on the floor.
"Your aim sucks," Shadowcat said, a ghost of a smile on her face.
"I spent 5 years being disemboweled, Pryde, cut me some slack." He reached for another can and opened it, "'Sides, I'm not the one who's moping around in someone else's place drinking all their beer."
"I'll pay you back. You know I'm good for it," she replied flippantly.
"Yeah, like I need money that I can't use once I'm out this madhouse." He scoffed, "Look, what the hell's the deal with you? Last time you nearly got killed it just made you horny."
"What, you want me to sleep with you again?" The way she said it made him wonder if she was actually asking or if she was just being her usual way.
"You see me begging?" He clicked his tongue, "Didn't answer my question: what the hell's the matter with you?"
"...I'm not really into this kumbaya feelgood shit. Just fuck off and let me have this." She finished off the last of the 2nd sixpack and reached for the 3rd before he grabbed her wrist, "Hey, what the hell?"
"You're here getting drunk - or at least trying to - on my alcohol and now you're telling me to back off? Doesn't work that way, Cat." He let go of her arm, "Either tell me what the hell's bothering you or get out. I'm not in the mood for half-assed binging."
"Tch, you're an asshole, you know that?" They shared a silent look for a few seconds before she exhaled in frustration and grabbed her 9th can of beer, "Fine..." She leaned back and opened the can, "...Look, I'm used to getting attacked. Getting nearly killed is rarer, but it happens. I'm not scared of dying; they didn't program that into me. If I had to hurt myself to get at a target so be it."
"Sensing a 'but' in there."
"Yeah, real perceptive." She rolled her eyes, "Look, they didn't mean for me to get free will. I mean, sure, they pretend they care about me and call me me their 'little kitten', but if I did anything but say 'Yes, sir, I'll do whatever fucking thing you tell me to' I get the collar...or worse, Kimura." She grit her teeth, "They tried to stamp out what little free will I had left."
"Those weapon X guys you mentioned before..."
"Yeah...real pieces of work. Well, eventually they got tired and they tried to use something to blank out everything, just make me kill on command. They called it a 'Trigger Scent'; one spritz of that stuff and I'd go completely apeshit and just kill everything."
"...Back there, at the factory, whatever that broad it reminded you of that."
"Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner." She looked down with a scowl on her face, "I wasn't the only one they made, partner. There were a bunch of us. Stryker said I was the strongest, their 'pride and joy'. Well, one day they decided to put that to the test. They put me in an arena with the rest of them...my friends. I refused to fight them; didn't matter how much they shocked me or beat me, I didn't lift a finger..."
"Till they used the trigger scent."
"Yeah..." She shut her eyes and took and coughed, "Everything was a haze and when I woke up...the only way I recognized Eliza was because of the little scar on her knee. The rest of them weren't so lucky." She sucked in a breath through her teeth, "So yeah, sorry for drinking all your damn beer but I really didn't want to think about it again. After getting out of that facility I thought it was over." Another breath came and went, "I should go-"
"You can stay if you want." He tossed her another can, which she caught easily, "You fessed up, so the rest of the beer's yours. There's some wine in the fridge if you want it; not even sure why I bought it."
"Heh, how magnanimous of you." Despite her mocking tone she drank the alcohol down easily enough, "...Alright, your turn. Since we're sharing and getting all our feelings out, what about you?"
"What about me?"
"You just met your clone. I dunno about you, but that seems like that'd be right up there on the most earth-shattering things that can happen to you. What are your thoughts, partner?"
"He was...younger than I thought." The same age he was when he got taken to this madhouse. No wonder he bought into the memories, "Kid's got stones, I'll give him that. Most people would give up after they lose an arm."
"Present company excluded, of course."
"You'd just grow yours back." He scoffed, "Still, how do I feel about it? I don't feel much of anything, really. I already knew him from the news and it doesn't really change anything for me. I'm going back and whether he likes it or not he isn't, end of story. Frankly I'm more surprised that he's got blonde hair."
"Hair dye. Could smell it even through the blood," She tossed another can into the bin, her cheeks slightly flush, "And don't worry about your fridge; S.H.I.E.L.D just gave me a a cool mil for helping their mascot take down that symbiote. I'll give you half of it if you want, just say the word."
"...I'm curious about something. All this money S.H.I.E.L.D's paying you, what are you using it for? You got a couple of mansions in your pocket?"
"A mansion? For 1 million? Geez, I knew the 30's were weird but that's just ridiculous," she said, "To answer your question: no, I don't live in a mansion. I live in a place kinda like this, actually, and if you're a good boy I might let you see it one day."
"Lucky me. Still doesn't explain where that money goes."
"It goes in a bank account and sits there for when I need it. I'm sure 60 years down the line when I'm barely out of my 20's it'll be really useful when I wanna buy a big yacht and cruise the world like an ashsole." She laughed under her breath, "I told you before, partner: being 'normal' ain't for me. Maybe someday I'll get tired of all the contract work, but right now it's what I'm good at and why I wake up in the morning."
"That the only reason?"
"Geez, what is this, psychology class?" She smiled wryly, "Alright, fine: It's cause the money's proof that I'm doing it because of me. At least with money I can justify and say that I'm getting something, that I'm doing it for myself and not just because someone asked me. That make you happy, doc?"
"Good a reason as any." Again, he had no clue if she was being serious or not. His spider-sense wasn't the best ever since he woke up.
A moment of comfortable silence settled over the pair. They weren't friends, not really, but neither of them minded. Frankly he was just glad he didn't have to run anymore, even if the closest thing he had to a partner who looked out for him was someone who tried to hunt him down just a week or so ago. The quiet lasted for a for a few more minutes until Shadowcat spoke up, her face lightly flushed.
"...Wanna do it?"
...
2 hours later he was buck naked on his bed and staring at up at the ceiling, his lower body covered by a thick brown blanket. At his left side Shadowcat slept, her head facing away from him and her breaths soft. Spider-Man gave her bare back a sideways glance and closed his eyes. It was meaningless - no strings attached, as they both called it - but accepting it so easily felt wrong somehow. Aunt May would've been disappointed in him.
His musings were interrupted by the sudden ringing of his phone. Sitting up slightly, he picked up the phone and raised an eyebrow when he saw Carter's mug on the screen, "Hello?"
"Spider-Man..." Carter's face on the other end of the screen moved and she raised an eyebrow, "Probably shouldn't have used video call. I'll make this quick. As I understand it you were with Shadowcat, Spider-Woman and Mr. Parker in the factory. Is that correct?"
"Yeah..." He rubbed the back of his head and hissed slightly at the cuts on his shoulder, "What about it?"
"Well, the symbiote was...let's just say that S.H.I.E.L.D had a vested interest in its demise. So an equal reward is prudent. Our spy inside the cell made it clear that Otto Octavius is making his way to a Madripoor for an auction in a few weeks time. You'll get him there."
"Y-You're serious?" He stood up and Shadowcat stirred behind him, "You're giving me Octavius, no strings?"
"When he leaves for his meeting, yes. By that point our informant will have exhausted all intel he could've gotten." Her lips curled up in a slight smile, "Congratulations, Spider-Man. Soon enough you'll be going home."
This went on longer than I thought :/ I know that aside from Lana there's a noticeable lack of Defenders, but that was mostly because they wouldn't have had strong reactions. Outside of Peter and Lana all of them are so deranged and apathetic that Carnage's massacre wouldn't have elicited much of anything from them, especially since outside of Castle none of them (except maybe Bullseye, and he doesn't care) were unmasked like Jessica was. Them's the breaks when you're writing about a bunch of amoral psychos and thieves.
Anyway, this chapter makes it pretty damn obvious how different things are from the original plans. Jessica aside, I never planned for Lana to be a significant supporting character; she was meant to be a joke/'child' character like Frog-Man or Gabriel. But since the latter's been practically retconned out and the former barely shows up she got more screentime with the adult Defenders group. Your call if that's a good or bad thing.
2 Questions, both more character-based:
1. How do you guys see Peter? By that I mean do you consider him to be (another) Spider-Man Noir, 65-Peter or some weird amalgamation of the two? His character went through a lot of changes over the course of the story and as of the most recent chapter it might be hard to tell just who/what he's supposed to be, especially with the original Spider-Man running around.
Additionally, are you guys okay with the amount of trauma he runs through? Compare him to most everyone else in the epilogue: Gwen got to talk it out with her dad, Lana with her mom, Jessica with her sister Trish etc etc. Meanwhile Noir - mostly through his own fault - drives away the people who could've helped him (the Parkers and Lana) and he's left a crying, vomiting mess begging for help where no one can hear him. Seems kind of unfair in hindsight.
2. Do you guys think some villains should remain personalized and not touched by the other protagonist? Jack-o-Lantern's a good example of this. Every time he shows up Gwen's conveniently off-screen and the one time she isn't in a future arc he makes her back off and fetch Noir instead. Does this 'comic book' approach to bad guys work for you all or not? Cause I'm kinda reminded of the 'Superman stays out of Gotham' trope and how silly it could get.
Renew your Vows is a tad better, though there was this weird 8 year timeskip due to Marvel Legacy so now we have Spider-Girl: Resurrection on our hands. Let's see if they can make it work.
Slight warning: Lana's segment can be pretty cringey, but she's a 15 year old girl who's angsting so you kinda expect it to be.
Anyway, I just got both Evil Within 2 and Shadow of War and Spider-Gwen's new issue is coming out in 3 days so...I'll see you guys then, I guess. This chapter is mostly filler, but what few votes I got picked this over jumping to the next arc. Don't forget to leave a like and/or a post. The noticeable downturn of both in the recent chapter was rather discouraging
Chapter 80: Setting the Stage
God fucking damn it...
Jessica brought a hand across her face and took a deep breath, the stench of mud, ash and blood wafting up her nostrils. Ever since she found out she was a freak she'd always had one rule: never show it off. She knew what Dorothy would do if she ever found out. She'd be lucky if she could walk down the street again without being seen as Patsy's freakshow friend and being paraded around like she was on the fucking circus. Even Trish only found out by accident.
She'd eased up on the rule when she grew up. After a while it became obvious that people just ignored and turned away from what they didn't understand and that was just fine with her. She wasn't afraid of using her 'gifts' to browbeat some nightclub owner who wouldn't accept a subpeona or a waste of skin who blamed her for his wife cheating on him, but anything above that was a definite hell no. She didn't put on a costume (despite Trish's pleas) and she didn't waste her time trying to fix something everyone else wanted broken. It worked just fine for her.
Or at least it did.
"God fucking damn it..." Jessica pressed her head down and groaned, causing the couch to creak beneath her. She should've stayed down, just bolted her door closed and let the Superheroes and everyone else deal with the zombie invasion. But no, instead she had to go out there with nothing but a goddamned hood - cause Gwen's midget boyfriend stole her scarf and she didn't have another - to keep her face covered.
Which didn't work very well considering the fact that she was just one of the many 'Gifted' whose picture the news circulated non-stop ever since this clusterfuck ended.
She desperately wanted to shut the damn TV off, but Trish's presence beside her on the couch kept her from just throwing something through the screen. The blonde leaned across the seat, her eyes wide and her mouth curled up into a smile that she tried (and fucking failed) to keep hidden. She was probably eating this shit up.
Jessica looked up and groaned again when she saw another news report with her picture on the upper right screen. The picture had her lifting a car off of a poor kid who nearly had his legs crushed; and right then and there she really wanted to get her hands on the fucking asshole who thought taking a picture of her was more important than running away or trying to get help. She was sure Trish thought the picture looked 'positively heroic', but she really couldn't share that thought right now with her mug plastered all over the news.
"Turn that shit off, Trish..." She leaned back on the couch and covered her eyes with her right arm. Maybe if she pretended this was all a dream everyone else would, too.
"Running away doesn't solve anything, Jess." Always with the inspirational BS; she should've been making PSA's next to Captain America.
Jessica shifted her arm and cracked one eye open to look at her. She was untouched from all the carnage and mayhem that happened down below, though that was to be expected considering where she lived. She had no idea why Trish didn't move out after Frost's kidnapping, but she was always like that. Even after Jessica threatened to cook Howard for thanksgiving - ignoring his complaints that he was a duck and not a turkey - she knew that the two of them were still meeting up for cases.
Trish turned to look at her, her eyes far too cheery considering recent events, "How could you not be thrilled about this?" She gestured to the television, "You're a hero! They're singing your praises- I mean, how many people did you save by going out there?"
"Less than every other clown dressed in spandex, I'll tell you that much," Jessica replied, "Look, what's it matter? All they caught was a brunette in a jacket lifting a car. That could be anyone in this city."
That was bullshit and she knew it. Sure, most people had no clue who she was since she wasn't famous like Trish or She-Hulk or whatever, but anyone who knew her would recognize that face. Some of the tentants in her apartment, Trish, George, Gwen, Kate, Trish's bitch of a mom...they all would've recognized her. Most of them would've kept their mouth shut, but at least a few of them wouldn't.
...She really needed a drink. Damn tagalong.
"Look, Jess, I know it's fucked up and people died but...well, the city's saved, right? And you were out there helping the heroes save everyone." Trish put a hand on her shoulder. Jessica tried not to think about the fact that one of those fingers was a prosthetic meant to replace what that bastard took away, "Look, George knows about your powers so there's no problem-"
"There's a big fucking problem!" Jessica stood up and shut the TV off before she could complain, "My face is out there now, Trish! People in my apartment know who I am! Your mother knows who I am! You think they won't try to do something about this? Won't go to the press and give them everything they know about me to get some money or their 5 minutes of fame? Fuck..."
She'd hidden her powers for a reason, and now it was all out in the open. A part of her hoped that just maybe Gwen and the rest of her superstar squad would take the heat off of her, but she knew this city. People here dug and scratched and clung at anything that they could get. She'd probably have to switch offices, go somewhere else in the city where the tenants weren't desperate enough to give the papers everything they knew about her.
She shouldn't have gone out there, but of course she didn't do the smart play. There were a shitload of excuses she could've used: it was none of her business, Gwen and the others would've fixed it themselves, she was fucking pregnant...none of which she actually used, naturally. She blamed George and Gwen; hanging around with a couple of modern day saints like the two of them would turn anyone stupid.
It was a fucking cliche, but there it was. She'd let herself get sucked in to their little world of justice always prevailing and now she was paying the price.
Her body stiffened Trish stood up to join her and placed another hand at her back. Trish knew that she wasn't one for hugs and circlejerks, so this was enough, "Look, Jess, I know you're pissed about all of this, but you did save people. You don't have to put on a costume or anything, but it happened."
"Yeah...and I didn't call myself Jewel, so that's something." The joke was poor, but the two sisters shared a strained smile regardless. She never got Trish or Gwen's insistence on putting on costumes and trying to stop purse snatchers. What was the point? There'd always be another bad guy out there, a thousand other lazy fuckers who thought that taking something from someone else was better than actually working for it. Trying to stop that was like trying to stomp ants; it never stopped no matter how many you stamped out.
"Hey, you know I still got that costume-"
"Trish?"
"Hmm?" She hummed, looking at her with that goddamn infectious smile of hers.
"Burn that thing in a dumpster fire." She shook off her hand and put on her jacket again. Least Spider-Man didn't take that from her while she wasn't looking, "Look, I need to get out of here, clear my head or something..."
"You can't just ignore it, Jess."
"Yeah, I know. This little tagalong's making sure of that." Going cold turkey from the booze was a nightmare, and contrary to what those saps thought that power of love bullshit didn't make it any fucking easier. George was a good man, but he couldn't stop the sweats, the headaches and the feeling of wanting to vomit out damn near everything she ate. It was getting better now, but it sure as hell wasn't cause someone held her hand through the whole thing.
"My future niece or nephew, you mean." Jessica rolled her eyes. She would've thought that Trish would have one of those fits about being an aunt, but it was the exact opposite; she was all smiles and congratulations when she found out about their 'happy little accident', "Hey, that's one more reason. Imagine being a kid with a Superhero for a mom; it'd make career day real exciting, at least."
"Yeah, right before they get kidnapped," she muttered. Honestly it boggled her how she was still so damn cheery after her first stint into 'that world' ended with her getting kidnapped and one of her fingers cut off. Then again maybe she was just used to fucked up shit: living with that bitch for a mom must have numbed her to people taking things from her.
"Hey, I'm not saying go out there while you're carrying the new addition with you, but what about afterwards? I can look after them while you go out and be a Super-"
"Do not say the H word," she interrupted, her voice holding more than a small hint of annoyance, "Look, just let me mope in peace, alright? I'll call back when I-"
Her words were drowned out by the sudden ringing of Trish's phone. Jessica looked past her to the cellphone on the table and scowled when she saw Dorothy's name plastered on the screen, "...If she asks, we haven't talked." She opened the window and looked down. Fire escape wasn't ideal, but she couldn't risk running into that bitch on the elevator down, "You hear me, Trish? Nothing."
"Jess-"
"Nothing."
Trish wanted to say something, but she never gave her a chance. The words were barely out of her mouth before Jessica jumped down the window and landed on the fire escape. She took a second to get her bearings before she jumped down again, landing on the wet alley with a muted smack. The rain returned a few minutes ago in a light drizzle and she tightened her jacket over herself. Walking back in the rain...heh, just like old times.
The hood felt almost suffocating over her head, but it was worth it. Jessica did her best to ignore the ambulances and the police cars that were way too damn late to the party. Where the hell were they when she was and the rest of these suicidal idiots were running themselves ragged trying to fight off a bunch of fucked up zombies? She definitely could've used more guys with guns over morons with smartphones.
It took her half an hour to make it back to her place. Jessica looked up at the run-down building and let out a cold breath, 'Just keep your head down and don't talk to anyone...' She pressed her hood tighter over her head and grimaced. With any luck everyone else would already be asleep and she wouldn't have to deal with any more bullshit because of her dumbass move.
No such luck, of course.
She'd barely stepped into the lobby before the landlord looked up at her. The fat old bastard was always leering at anyone he could get away with - she was pretty sure it was part of the damn lease or something - but the look in his eyes was different this time. She could tell the same lust and fascination as before, but now there was a hint of fear that definitely wasn't there before. He knew who she was, what she could do.
Jessica ignored him and trudged up the stairs, his gaze boring into her back until she was finally out of sight. The private investigator winced and pulled down her hood. No point in trying to hide here; she didn't even know why she fucking tried. She was pretty sure everyone here recognized the jacket just as much as they did her face.
Her feelings only worsened when she caught the damn wonder twins talking in the hallway, 'God damn it...' She sighed. Of all her neighbors those two were the most annoying. Ruben was a man-child: at least 20 years old but barely acted half of that. Annoying, but hardly the worst thing she had to deal with every day. No, the problem was his damn sister.
What could she say about Robyn? Well apart from the fact that she was a massive control freak who dictated when and where her brother could wipe his ass she was pretty damn sure that she also had weird incestous fantasies about the guy considering her tendency to call him 'poobear'...and poo was really the last thing she wanted to think about considering that asswipe comment.
"H-Hey, Jessica!" Ruben raised his left hand in an awkward half-wave. Again, annoying but harmless, "You were on TV, right? The one-"
"No."
She walked past them; or at least she tried to. She only managed two steps past the two of them before Robyn spoke up, "...Freak."
"...Excuse me?" She tried to ignore it, she really did, but there was something about that control freak's voice that pissed her off to no end. All judgement and sneers while completely ignoring her own damn problems. Jessica was a lot of things, but at least she admitted how fucked up she was.
"You're a freak," Robyn repeated, her voice carrying throughout the hallway, "Sleeping with old men, leaving booze everywhere and now this? Bet you think you're so much better, huh? Some kind of celebrity like Captain America or-"
That was as far as she got before Jessica grabbed the front of her shirt and pulled her close. The younger woman's eyes widened and she opened her mouth to scream something back, but Jessica was faster, "Shut the hell up." She slammed her on the wall and scowled, "I know you hate me cause your brother wants to fuck me instead of you, but leave me the fuck alone. I don't care about your goddamn wet dreams or what you think of me."
"W-We don't sleep together..." Ruben muttered weakly. Jessica ignored him.
"You tell anyone about me and you're gonna see just how much of a freak I am, do you get me?" Robyn nodded quickly, her eyes wide, "Good. Now leave me the fuck alone."
She shoved her away from the wall and made her way to her office, slamming the door behind her before either of the two could say anything else. Jessica looked around the messy interior and sighed, trudging towards her desk and collapsing face-first into the worn wood as soon as she took a seat. She was still backed up on at least two cases, but that was the last thing on her mind. If the wonder twins and her landlord knew then what else could she expect?
Something told her the next few days were gonna be absolute shit...
Fucking asshole cocksucker son of a fucking bitch!
Lana grit her teeth and ran down the street in a daze, pushing past the milling crowds and ignoring the curses they spat at her. They were pissed, but hey join the fucking club. All of them were pissed. People either lost others close to them or one of those zombies ripped off their arms or eyes or balls; or, if they were really unlucky, they lost their lives and they'd be put in some mass grave somewhere cause the cemeteries didn't have room.
Boo fucking hoo. She felt sorry for them, she really did, but right now with her face banged up to all hell and Peter suddenly acting like King Asshole she really didn't have enough time to stand on some silent fucking vigil.
She rounded the corner and stopped when she felt something nuzzle her leg, "The fuck? Spider-Pug?" The tiny pup looked up at her with a small whine, nuzzling his snout against the fabric of her torn black jeans, "What are you doing here?"
He didn't answer, of course. Damn dog could sniff out a celebrity through all of Hell's Kitchen but he couldn't talk. Sighing, Lana, picked up the pug and held him close to her chest, "You're gonna fucking drown out here..." She covered him with her jacket and he burrowed closer into the warm cloth. Good thing they got rid of any fleas weeks ago, "...Come on, let's get outta this rain."
She couldn't go back to her grandma's place; the last thing she needed was to talk to that old crone, especially with her mom there, too. It'd just be another argument about her job and how she was a disappointment to her 'poor, poor mother' every day she was still alive. She probably wouldn't give a crap that the two of them were nearly gutted at a hospital by some kind of tentacle monster.
She found herself walking on autopilot while keeping Spider-Pug close to her. It wasn't hard for her to figure out where she was heading and despite everything inside her telling her that there'd be nothing there she kept going, pushing past the crowds and the worried paramedics who wanted to take a look at her. They had more to worry about than a girl with some bruises on her face.
Her walk ended when she stood in front of her condemned apartment. The landlord was too damn cheap to fix the place up so after she blew most of the kitchen into tiny little pieces she just put a 'Do not enter' sign and some tape in front of the door. Considering a serial killer nearly killed her and her mom here she wasn't surprised no one wanted to try their luck.
Lana knocked the sign away and stepped over the tape. Back here again...she let Spider-Pug out of her jacket and he immediately ran through the area, stopping with another whine when he caught sight of the still-destroyed kitchen. It looked almost identical to two months ago; only difference was most of her stuff was gone and the entire place was caked in dust.
"Home sweet home..." She wiped off the layer of dust on the couch and sat. Spider-Pug continued to trot around the place, but she paid him no mind. Right now the only thing on her mind was...
Fuck.
She shut her eyes tight and took a deep breath. How pathetic was this? She nearly got killed, Lily and that bastard knew she had powers and there were fucking corpses on the street...and despite all that fucked up shit the only thing she could think of right now was that argument with Peter.
"Get the hell out!"
"Fuck you too, asshole..." She quickly wiped away the few tears that almost escaped and took a shuddering breath. 2 months and after everything they'd been through he suddenly kicked her to the damned curb just like that. He was just the same as everyone else - they played along, pretended they gave a shit about her until suddenly she was inconvenient and they wanted nothing to do with her. Same thing every damn time...
Sighing, she adjusted her place on the couch and placed her head against the old leather, her eyes drooping. She was exhausted; she had to take so much painkillers to be able to stand up that she was pretty sure she'd have overdosed if it wasn't for her powers. Lana let her eyes close, barely catching sight of Spider-Pug trotting past her and leaving through the door.
She didn't know how long she was asleep, but by the time she woke up she heard the sound of footsteps approaching the door, "Huh...?" She sat up in a rush and aimed her left hand at the doorway in a panic.
"Lana?"
"...Mom?" She lowered her arm and blinked in surprise at the sight of her mom standing at the doorway. She wasn't dressed in the hospital gown anymore, making do instead with a red jacket and a pair of brown khakis and boots, "Wha...What are you doing here?"
"Well, this dog came to our house and..." She looked back and trailed off when she found nothing there, "What the- he was just here."
"Yeah, SP kinda does that..." She sat up properly and yawned. She still felt tired as shit, but she wasn't gonna get any sleep now that her mom was here, "Well...come in. Pretty sure we've still got a couple of years of rent paid in advance to this shithole."
"Doubt Mrs. Maillard thinks so." She sat next to her on the couch and Lana smiled slightly. Things were still shit, but at least she wasn't alone, "So...why are you here? Last you told me you were gonna talk to Spider-Man, make sure that he was still alive and all that."
"He's alive..." And he was a fucking asshole. Lana bit her lip and looked away to try and hide it, but her mom saw it clear as day.
"...What happened?"
"He's an asshole, that's what happened." She sniffed loudly and coughed, "Went over there to talk to him, see if he was alright after he and Spider-Woman fought that fucking monster and then he just goes off on me. Tells me to get the fuck out and that I didn't have to pretend to give a shit about him now that you were up and kicking again. Guess he really did think he was just babysitting while you were taking your beauty sleep."
"Beauty sleep? Kiddo, there was nothing beautiful about that." She replied, her voice oddly light considering where they were, "Look, I'm sure there's an-"
"An explanation? What, like there was an 'explanation' for 'dad' calling me gutter trash to my face when she caught Lily hanging out with me? Why grandma looks at me like I'm a piece of shit that she just can't get rid of? Yeah, here's an explanation: people are fucking assholes. I've got these powers and nothing's changed; everyone'll still treat you like shit no matter what you do."
"...Maybe, but I'm not sure if Spider-Man's one of them. I remember what he did when that thing showed up. He tried to save us, tried to fight that thing by himself to make sure you, me and everybody else could make it out. That doesn't seem like something someone who didn't give a shit would do."
"Tch..." Lana clicked her tongue and looked down, though she didn't have a rebuttal. Pete was an asshole, but she owed him; that was something she definitely couldn't forget. If he wasn't there her mom would be six feet under and that bastard Carter would've been killing more prostitutes and junkies.
"...You like him, don't you?"
"Wha?!" She looked at her mom, her cheeks heated an annoying tinge of red that caused the older woman to laugh, "The fuck are you- no! I don't-"
"Oh, give it up, kiddo. I might've been a corpse for a couple of months but I know my daughter." She wrapped her arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, "I saw it in your eyes when you looked at him, and the way you talk about him...hah, a neon sign would've been more subtle. You looked just like Susan Storm in that shitty sitcom."
"No, I didn't..." She wondered just how her mom would react to knowing she had Sue's number on her phone.
"Sure, and I'm a totally functional and balanced parent." She rolled her eyes and let Lana scoot away to put some space between them, "Look, Lana, I'm the last person to be giving relationship advice - Lord knows I've made my share of fuck-ups in that department - but I'm telling you now: you don't wanna leave it like this. I dunno what happened between you two, but I can tell you both care about each other. You wouldn't have gone back inside the hospital for just anyone."
"I...I just owe him, that's all." She chewed on her bottom lip nervously. She and her mom didn't have many mother-daughter talks; kinda hard to do that when you find out that your mom blew strangers to put you through school.
"Alright, if you say so." She put her hands up in surrender and shrugged, "All I'm saying is from what I've seen of him he's not like William or mom; they definitely wouldn't have stuck their neck out back at that hospital for you, powers or no. If you wanna end it here then I won't say anything, but if you wanna try to fix this then I'll try to help, too. I've got two months of being a parent to catch up to."
"I'll take you not blowing random guys anymore, if that's allowed." She clenched her hands, the rings of light encircling her palms again, "...You know, Captain America made me an offer to join S.H.I.E.L.D when I turned 18. We save up our money and for a couple more years and I'll be able to pay for a roof over our head, food...everything. You don't have to go back out there anymore."
"I couldn't even if I wanted to. No one wants someone with shotgun scars on her stomach." Her mom's smile was bitter. It didn't give her a good feeling, "...And if you do get that Superhero job it'll have to be without me."
"What? Why?" She sat up straighter and ignored the burst of pain at the sudden movement, "I-I know you and grandma said something about custody, but I figured you were just trying to get me out of the house."
"I wouldn't joke about that, kiddo." She looked down and exhaled deeply, hands pressed together, "Look, everyone knew I was a slut; it was an open secret, but social services didn't give a shit. They had bigger problems. But after that serial killer case...well, suddenly people paid attention. They think it's cause of my job that I was targeted, that it's why you were nearly killed-"
"Bullshit!" Lana spat, "That son of a bitch was insane! That's not your fault!"
"Well, try telling them that. Far as they're concerned it was cause of my 'corruption' that you were put in so much danger." She brought a hand through her hair and sighed, "Lana, I won't lie to you: it doesn't look good. At this rate I'll be lucky if I'll be allowed to visit you. We...I don't think I'm gonna get custody of you-"
"This isn't fucking fair!" Lana stood up and growled, kicking at the table and tipping it upside down. First Peter and now her mom...what the fuck did she do to have God shit on her?! "So what, I'm supposed to live with grandma? Just deal with her treating me like the redheaded stepkid?"
"Well, that or..." She took a deep breath and met her gaze, "William's been calling."
"Yeah, what's that asshole want?"
"What do you think? He finds out his unwanted daughter has powers you think he won't ask questions? Honestly I'm surprised it took him this long." The older woman clenched her hands tightly, "I think...I think he might be the one to-"
"No...no, no, no! Fuck that! It's not happening!" She screamed, causing her mom to wince, "He doesn't get to change his mind just because I finds out I can blow things up with my bare hands!"
"It's either that or they try to find relatives outside of New York because I think mom's about had enough. She said you spend most of your nights outside, that you don't go back home." She crossed her arms and gave her a pointed look, "I understand why you did it, but when social services start asking it doesn't exactly send a good message when your granddaughter spends most of the week out with her supposed boyfriend."
"Fuck...!" Lana pressed both hands against her face and growled, "So...what do we do now?"
"Honestly? There's nothing we can do. I can try to take it to court, but I doubt it's gonna do well. A prostitute against a rich politician and mayoral candidate? I'd be lucky if I wasn't banned from ever seeing you again."
"This is fucked..." Lana sat back down and looked down at the floor, her hands balled into tight fists, "I dunno what that asshole wants, but if he's after this-" She summoned the rings again, "-then I'm not holding my fucking breath that it's gonna be any good."
"Maybe," she said, "Look, Lana...I don't know what's gonna happen the next few days, but I wanna try to make up for those two months before..." She shook her head, "Anything you need-"
"Just for tonight can we forget about all the drama and just go out?" Lana interrupted, "The diner nearby's still open and from what I saw old Janey doesn't give a shit about the clusterfuck earlier. Let's just get something to eat and...I dunno, talk."
"Uh...alright, Lana. Whatever you want."
Yeah, whatever she wanted...fuck all this bullshit. If there really was a God or Fate or whatever then they could stick it. She didn't need any help making her life more shit than it already was, thanks.
Cindy always had mixed feelings about returning back to the S.H.I.E.L.D compounds. The sterile walls and automatic doors reminded her too much of the bunker to her liking. Sure, there were always people milling around so she never felt alone, but even then the feeling of being trapped underground never left her. The bunker was both her home and her prison for a decade and for those days after she got rescued by S.H.I.E.L.D the base was the same. A place for her to hone her skills, to try and acquaint herself with the people who rescued her.
A place she wasn't allowed to leave till they decided to let her.
The spider heroine clenched her right hand and looked up at the door that led to Maria Hill's office. She didn't like Agent Hill, and as far as as she was aware that was a very common view to have. Listened to? Of course. Respected? Many of them, yes. But actually liked? The amount of people that actually had positive things to say about the senior agent as a person were so rare that they were practically myths.
Taking a deep breath, she pressed her keycard on the scanner and stepped into the room as soon as the door whooshed open. She hadn't really talked to Agent Hill much, which Bobby joked(?) was one of the few blessings she was given. She was a lot of things, but 'tolerant' and 'flexible' weren't two of them. She liked it when everything fell into a certain order and she had all the advantages.
Which meant she held a certain grudge against 'mavericks' like her, Gwen, Peter and (from what she gathered) even Kate.
The senior agent looked up from her desk when she entered, her lips pressed into a thin line and her eyes narrowed. Cindy thought it made her look constipated, "Agent Moon. Good, you're here. Take a seat, please."
She was really tempted not to, but insubordination (even if she was barely an agent) was worse than her paranoia. She definitely didn't want to give her any excuses to ground her down here again, "Um, alright..." She sat on the (wooden, which was a rarity here) chair across from the large desk and crossed her right leg over her left, "Is there, uh...any reason you called for me, miss?"
"Yes, I was hoping you'd clear something up for me." She set the file she was holding down on the table and tapped her finger on the metal surface, "I've gotten security footage which implicates you to a break-in at Oscorp's tech labs. I trust you have a justification for doing this outside of wanting to place yourself under charges of sabotage and theft?"
"Right, that..." Cindy closed her right eye and scratched the back of her head, "Well...alright, Osborn wanted to help and he's the one who knows how to use the glider and the suit better than everyone else. Things were desperate..." She licked her lips. The excuse sounded weak even to her, and she had personal reason to dislike him. A few more days and she would've been on the other end of that syringe.
"So you decided to trust the word of a former fugitive?"
"Trust? No, but I didn't exactly have much choice." She shook her head, "I didn't want to, I even tried to ignore him, but all those monsters...there were too many of them. I saw videos of 'The Goblin' and I thought the benefits outweighed the risks..." She paused to consider her next words, "We were being overwhelmed, Agent Hill. I don't have to like Osborn to understand we needed all the help we could get."
"Be that as it may we now have an unstable former fugitive running amok with access to military grade ordinance."
"What do you want me to do? Beat him up and take the armor back?" The older woman's eyes narrowed and Cindy winced. Powers or no she was scary, "Look, he said he'd give back the armor and bombs after it was done. If he doesn't then I'll make him, alright? I stand by my decision, and from what I've seen so far he did help save people's lives. A little theft is worth that, right?"
"That depends on who you ask. But fine, that matter is dealt with." Cindy blinked. That was...surprisingly easy, "On to the next subject at hand: reports indicate that you worked with Osborn to assault Crime Master's base and ran into two more of our hired mercenaries."
"Yeah, Shadowcat and..." The 'real' Spider-Man? How the hell was she going to tell Peter? "I, uh...Osborn said that he had a lead on the guy who stole the Lizard serum from that Lord Ogre dude and I thought that it'd be a good idea to follow him."
"A better idea would've been to tell us as soon as you received this information, but I suppose I can't fault you for your intent, especially given your inexperience. Next time forward any lead you have to us as soon as you can." Scary...but reasonable. Was everyone else just exaggerating about her? "Did you have recent contact with Osborn before coming here?"
"No, but I have his number. I was actually planning to meet him later to make sure he returned the gear." And to apologize to those guards she'd webbed to the wall. So sue her, they were rushing, "Is he under arrest?"
"Given his actions I would be more than justified, but no. He retains his freedom - though Norman Osborn will owe us more for looking the other way." She tapped the open file and nodded, "I have a new assignment for you, Agent Moon."
"Uh...okay?"
"I want you to keep an eye on Harry Osborn and report his activities back to us. I have a feeling that even without the armor and weaponry he'll attempt to try and 'redeem' himself and any abberant behavior would be useful for us to know."
"...You want me to spy on him. For blackmail against his dad."
"Yes." The blunt reply caused her to frown. She wasn't naive, despite what others might've thought, and she had little reason to defend him from what she knew of him. Still, using him as a bait to get more concessions out of a CEO made her feel dirty and two-faced, "For whatever reason he decided to place his trust in you and we aren't going to pass this up. Keep an eye on him and report any aberrant behavior."
"Right..." Great, now she was a spy. This was definitely different from those James Bond films she and her brother watched when they were younger, "Is...Is that all?"
"Yes, you're dismissed. Report back with any findings you may have."
Cindy nodded and stood. She was halfway to the door before she stopped, her mouth opening before she could think better of it, "...I wanna ask you something, Agent Hill." The senior agent looked up at her with a slight glare and she winced again, "The thing that we all tried to stop...I heard that it was something S.H.I.E.L.D created. Is that true?"
"Yes." Again, blunt. She was halfway expecting some tall tale about a framejob, "We attempted to replicate Spider-Woman's symbiote without the side-effect of the deadly radiation. As you can see it went poorly."
"But...But why?"
"Why?" She scoffed, "Simply look at the news and it's clear. Spider-Woman was given power that surpasses anyone but the likes of Jennifer Walters and she continues to parade herself around like a trained monkey. She's incapable of making difficult decisions, meaning that for all her abilities she's almost impotent. We wanted to share her abilities with one of our agents so they could do things that she's incapable and unwilling to do."
"You mean killing someone..." She bit her lip. She didn't like killing, but she had it hammered to her by Ezekiel that she'd have to if it came down to it. If 'Morlun' and the rest of his fucked up family came for her then killing had to be on the table if she wanted her and everyone she loved to survive.
"Very astute. Yes, I killing. From what we gathered on her psychological profile she seems to have a pathological avoidance to taking a life - I can only assume that it was either of the two Parkers or Pryde that ended the life of the renegade host." She closed the file, "Regardless she's of little practical use. The kinds of enemies we fight against cannot simply be punched and taken to the local jail and until she realizes this she's nothing more than a stopgap solution."
"Use? She's not a thing, you know..." Cindy took a deep breath and shook her head, "Look, how are you going to deal with this? I mean one of your experiments got loose and it killed a lot of people. Do you talk to anyone about it?"
"If you're asking if we plan to reveal our connections to the symbiote, then no, we do not."
"Wha- So you're just going to lie?"
"And spread misinformation if need be; blaming HYDRA or S.I.L.K should suffice," she replied, already looking away from her and down to another file, "The fallout if S.H.I.E.L.D were ever to be publicly connected to that monstrosity would be astronomical and a gap like that would be something our enemies would take full advantage of. You don't have to like it, Agent Moon, but you will follow. Not a word of our involvement shall leave this room."
"That's bullshit!" Hill looked up and raised an eyebrow when she stamped her foot, "Your little experiment killed hundreds of people and now you're just going to sweep it under the rug?!"
"Yes. Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D, agent. I trust the glamour's finally worn off?" The expression the older woman sported was a mix of annoyance and outright boredom, "You aren't the first one to have complaints about our methods and I'll give you the same response as I did them: find an alternative that allows you to keep everything stable while keeping your hands clean or shut up and follow your orders. Your choice."
"I didn't join this place cause I thought it'd be another S.I.L.K," she spat, "I left my evil twin behind because of what she did and now-"
"You joined us, not out of justice or some lofty ideal like you claim, but because you had no other choice," Hill interrupted, her gaze still passively annoyed, "Even assuming that you weren't detained, you have no proper identity in this world. If you'd tried to strike out on your own you'd have nothing to your name except a list of crimes a mile wide due to the actions of your native counterpart. So no, Agent Moon, you aren't the unsung hero and this isn't your triumphant stand. And I'll be expecting your report on Osborn as soon as you're able."
Cindy wanted to scream, wanted to punch her in the face and make her take it all back, but in the end she looked down and left the room, her fists shaking. Bobby was right; she was an absolute bitch.
She walked to a far enough bench and practically collapsed on top of it, both hands pressed against her head and a groan escaping her lips. Much as she hated to admit it, Hill was right: without S.H.I.E.L.D she wouldn't have a roof over her head and any papers would've been the same ones her evil twin had; and she really didn't like the idea of sharing anything more than she already did with that deranged nutjob.
She was content to sit there and stew in her angst (not like she didn't have 10 years of that already...) till she heard footsteps, "Hey, this spot taken?" She looked up and blinked when she saw Hawkeye- er, Kate, smiling down at her. Despite the bandages strewn across her face the grin was genuine, which she found more than a little impressive, "Hey, Spinerette. You look like you've been through the wringer."
"More or less." She scooted over slightly and let the younger girl sit next to her. Misery loved company and all that, "...I just had a fight with Agent Hill."
"Yeah, I figured. You wouldn't be the first." She stretched her arms above her head till her fingers cracked, "Lemme guess, she gave you the 'you're not the unsung hero and this isn't your triumphant stand' speech?"
"Uh...yeah, exactly that."
"Yeah, she gave me that too when I called her out on how she was using Hawkeye...er, the other Hawkeye. The lame one." She waved a hand through the air casually, "Look, don't let it bug you; she's not all of S.H.I.E.L.D, yeah? There are good people here, and they weren't responsible for this gigantic fuck up. I don't really know everything about you, but keep at it. You can do good here."
"But...didn't you quit?"
"Do as I say, not as I do." Kate winked conspiratorially and Cindy giggled, "Anyway, I'm glad I found you. Cap wanted me to tell you that she wanted me, you and Spider-Woman to go to Washington in a few days."
"Washington?" That was sudden. She hadn't left New York at all in her time here; and to be honest she was almost afraid to considering how weird just New York was, "She say why?"
"Nope. Just said we had to and that she already arranged our transport; I'll send you the deets when I get em. Full costume allowed, by the way, just in case you're worried anyone will recognize you without that scarf."
"Says the girl whose mask is a pair of shades." Cindy rolled her eyes and smiled, "Well, thanks for the heads up."
"No prob." She scratched at one of the bandages before she spoke up again, "Hey, you wanna get something to eat? Ms. Jones is pouting cause she got caught on cam and I don't wanna go alone. I know this great shawarma place."
"...Are you asking me out on a date?"
"Depends. You want it to be?" She leaned closer, her smile almost teasing.
"Uh..." Cindy blushed. This definitely wasn't how she saw her night going, "Um...I'm flattered, but no. You see I don't, um..I don't really play for that team, if you catch my drift? I mean no offense to you, of course."
A moment of silence passed before the other girl blinked and laughed openly, "Dude, it's 2016. If you don't like other girls just say so. I'm not gonna go all social justice warrior on you and post on tweeter that Spinerette's a bigot." She clicked her tongue and leaned back, "Still, both you and Spider-Woman? I've had the worst luck when it comes to getting a date. Just don't tell me you like Spider-Man too or I'm gonna start thinking he cursed me or something."
"Haha...no, he's just a friend."
"Well, you still wanna go out? As friends this time?"
"Sure, that's cool."
Well, maybe things were looking up after all.
"Here."
Shadowcat took the can of beer without so much as a thank you and drank it in one go, "Another..." She didn't even wait for him to say anything before she grabbed the second can and drank that too, "...Your beer's shit." She tossed the empty can at the trash can and looked at out the window again with the same glare she'd been sporting ever since they left the factory behind.
"...You're welcome." Spider-Man rolled his eyes and moved back to the fridge. Honestly he'd expected them to go their separate ways as soon as they left, but for whatever reason she stuck around...and she then she took to drinking and insulting (and not always in that order) his choice of spirits. She already burned through all his whiskey and pretty soon his beer would follow.
He grabbed four six-packs of beer and dragged them back to the window. Honestly he was tempted to try and kick her out, though given her state he wasn't confident she wouldn't just try to cut his pecker off, "Here you go, your highness." He gave her one of the cans and pulled the other one back when she tried to reach for it, "Hey, I gotta drink too. You weren't the only one who went insane back there."
"...Fine."
They sat across one another on the windowsill, the only sound between them being the twisting of metal cans being opened and and the occasional sound of creaking wood. Spider-Man drank the down the third can of beer and coughed at the taste. Next time he'd skip the beer and just put it all on whiskey. He threw the can and growled softly when it bounced off the rim and landed on the floor.
"Your aim sucks," Shadowcat said, a ghost of a smile on her face.
"I spent 5 years being disemboweled, Pryde, cut me some slack." He reached for another can and opened it, "'Sides, I'm not the one who's moping around in someone else's place drinking all their beer."
"I'll pay you back. You know I'm good for it," she replied flippantly.
"Yeah, like I need money that I can't use once I'm out this madhouse." He scoffed, "Look, what the hell's the deal with you? Last time you nearly got killed it just made you horny."
"What, you want me to sleep with you again?" The way she said it made him wonder if she was actually asking or if she was just being her usual way.
"You see me begging?" He clicked his tongue, "Didn't answer my question: what the hell's the matter with you?"
"...I'm not really into this kumbaya feelgood shit. Just fuck off and let me have this." She finished off the last of the 2nd sixpack and reached for the 3rd before he grabbed her wrist, "Hey, what the hell?"
"You're here getting drunk - or at least trying to - on my alcohol and now you're telling me to back off? Doesn't work that way, Cat." He let go of her arm, "Either tell me what the hell's bothering you or get out. I'm not in the mood for half-assed binging."
"Tch, you're an asshole, you know that?" They shared a silent look for a few seconds before she exhaled in frustration and grabbed her 9th can of beer, "Fine..." She leaned back and opened the can, "...Look, I'm used to getting attacked. Getting nearly killed is rarer, but it happens. I'm not scared of dying; they didn't program that into me. If I had to hurt myself to get at a target so be it."
"Sensing a 'but' in there."
"Yeah, real perceptive." She rolled her eyes, "Look, they didn't mean for me to get free will. I mean, sure, they pretend they care about me and call me me their 'little kitten', but if I did anything but say 'Yes, sir, I'll do whatever fucking thing you tell me to' I get the collar...or worse, Kimura." She grit her teeth, "They tried to stamp out what little free will I had left."
"Those weapon X guys you mentioned before..."
"Yeah...real pieces of work. Well, eventually they got tired and they tried to use something to blank out everything, just make me kill on command. They called it a 'Trigger Scent'; one spritz of that stuff and I'd go completely apeshit and just kill everything."
"...Back there, at the factory, whatever that broad it reminded you of that."
"Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner." She looked down with a scowl on her face, "I wasn't the only one they made, partner. There were a bunch of us. Stryker said I was the strongest, their 'pride and joy'. Well, one day they decided to put that to the test. They put me in an arena with the rest of them...my friends. I refused to fight them; didn't matter how much they shocked me or beat me, I didn't lift a finger..."
"Till they used the trigger scent."
"Yeah..." She shut her eyes and took and coughed, "Everything was a haze and when I woke up...the only way I recognized Eliza was because of the little scar on her knee. The rest of them weren't so lucky." She sucked in a breath through her teeth, "So yeah, sorry for drinking all your damn beer but I really didn't want to think about it again. After getting out of that facility I thought it was over." Another breath came and went, "I should go-"
"You can stay if you want." He tossed her another can, which she caught easily, "You fessed up, so the rest of the beer's yours. There's some wine in the fridge if you want it; not even sure why I bought it."
"Heh, how magnanimous of you." Despite her mocking tone she drank the alcohol down easily enough, "...Alright, your turn. Since we're sharing and getting all our feelings out, what about you?"
"What about me?"
"You just met your clone. I dunno about you, but that seems like that'd be right up there on the most earth-shattering things that can happen to you. What are your thoughts, partner?"
"He was...younger than I thought." The same age he was when he got taken to this madhouse. No wonder he bought into the memories, "Kid's got stones, I'll give him that. Most people would give up after they lose an arm."
"Present company excluded, of course."
"You'd just grow yours back." He scoffed, "Still, how do I feel about it? I don't feel much of anything, really. I already knew him from the news and it doesn't really change anything for me. I'm going back and whether he likes it or not he isn't, end of story. Frankly I'm more surprised that he's got blonde hair."
"Hair dye. Could smell it even through the blood," She tossed another can into the bin, her cheeks slightly flush, "And don't worry about your fridge; S.H.I.E.L.D just gave me a a cool mil for helping their mascot take down that symbiote. I'll give you half of it if you want, just say the word."
"...I'm curious about something. All this money S.H.I.E.L.D's paying you, what are you using it for? You got a couple of mansions in your pocket?"
"A mansion? For 1 million? Geez, I knew the 30's were weird but that's just ridiculous," she said, "To answer your question: no, I don't live in a mansion. I live in a place kinda like this, actually, and if you're a good boy I might let you see it one day."
"Lucky me. Still doesn't explain where that money goes."
"It goes in a bank account and sits there for when I need it. I'm sure 60 years down the line when I'm barely out of my 20's it'll be really useful when I wanna buy a big yacht and cruise the world like an ashsole." She laughed under her breath, "I told you before, partner: being 'normal' ain't for me. Maybe someday I'll get tired of all the contract work, but right now it's what I'm good at and why I wake up in the morning."
"That the only reason?"
"Geez, what is this, psychology class?" She smiled wryly, "Alright, fine: It's cause the money's proof that I'm doing it because of me. At least with money I can justify and say that I'm getting something, that I'm doing it for myself and not just because someone asked me. That make you happy, doc?"
"Good a reason as any." Again, he had no clue if she was being serious or not. His spider-sense wasn't the best ever since he woke up.
A moment of comfortable silence settled over the pair. They weren't friends, not really, but neither of them minded. Frankly he was just glad he didn't have to run anymore, even if the closest thing he had to a partner who looked out for him was someone who tried to hunt him down just a week or so ago. The quiet lasted for a for a few more minutes until Shadowcat spoke up, her face lightly flushed.
"...Wanna do it?"
...
2 hours later he was buck naked on his bed and staring at up at the ceiling, his lower body covered by a thick brown blanket. At his left side Shadowcat slept, her head facing away from him and her breaths soft. Spider-Man gave her bare back a sideways glance and closed his eyes. It was meaningless - no strings attached, as they both called it - but accepting it so easily felt wrong somehow. Aunt May would've been disappointed in him.
His musings were interrupted by the sudden ringing of his phone. Sitting up slightly, he picked up the phone and raised an eyebrow when he saw Carter's mug on the screen, "Hello?"
"Spider-Man..." Carter's face on the other end of the screen moved and she raised an eyebrow, "Probably shouldn't have used video call. I'll make this quick. As I understand it you were with Shadowcat, Spider-Woman and Mr. Parker in the factory. Is that correct?"
"Yeah..." He rubbed the back of his head and hissed slightly at the cuts on his shoulder, "What about it?"
"Well, the symbiote was...let's just say that S.H.I.E.L.D had a vested interest in its demise. So an equal reward is prudent. Our spy inside the cell made it clear that Otto Octavius is making his way to a Madripoor for an auction in a few weeks time. You'll get him there."
"Y-You're serious?" He stood up and Shadowcat stirred behind him, "You're giving me Octavius, no strings?"
"When he leaves for his meeting, yes. By that point our informant will have exhausted all intel he could've gotten." Her lips curled up in a slight smile, "Congratulations, Spider-Man. Soon enough you'll be going home."
This went on longer than I thought :/ I know that aside from Lana there's a noticeable lack of Defenders, but that was mostly because they wouldn't have had strong reactions. Outside of Peter and Lana all of them are so deranged and apathetic that Carnage's massacre wouldn't have elicited much of anything from them, especially since outside of Castle none of them (except maybe Bullseye, and he doesn't care) were unmasked like Jessica was. Them's the breaks when you're writing about a bunch of amoral psychos and thieves.
Anyway, this chapter makes it pretty damn obvious how different things are from the original plans. Jessica aside, I never planned for Lana to be a significant supporting character; she was meant to be a joke/'child' character like Frog-Man or Gabriel. But since the latter's been practically retconned out and the former barely shows up she got more screentime with the adult Defenders group. Your call if that's a good or bad thing.
2 Questions, both more character-based:
1. How do you guys see Peter? By that I mean do you consider him to be (another) Spider-Man Noir, 65-Peter or some weird amalgamation of the two? His character went through a lot of changes over the course of the story and as of the most recent chapter it might be hard to tell just who/what he's supposed to be, especially with the original Spider-Man running around.
Additionally, are you guys okay with the amount of trauma he runs through? Compare him to most everyone else in the epilogue: Gwen got to talk it out with her dad, Lana with her mom, Jessica with her sister Trish etc etc. Meanwhile Noir - mostly through his own fault - drives away the people who could've helped him (the Parkers and Lana) and he's left a crying, vomiting mess begging for help where no one can hear him. Seems kind of unfair in hindsight.
2. Do you guys think some villains should remain personalized and not touched by the other protagonist? Jack-o-Lantern's a good example of this. Every time he shows up Gwen's conveniently off-screen and the one time she isn't in a future arc he makes her back off and fetch Noir instead. Does this 'comic book' approach to bad guys work for you all or not? Cause I'm kinda reminded of the 'Superman stays out of Gotham' trope and how silly it could get.
Madou Sutegobana
Autocorrupt has been disabled.
- Location
- Twin Realms Mandala
I'm of the "you never cross the same river twice" philosophy, in that Both revived bodies have diverged from who they used to be, even though the older Spidey is closer to his original.
And I do see the younger as a sort of amalgam, in the same manner that Frankenstein's monster was an amalgam of the bodies used to create it. But the important part to me is that he's one of the original duatagonists.
His memories are valid even if they were experienced by someone else.
And I do see the younger as a sort of amalgam, in the same manner that Frankenstein's monster was an amalgam of the bodies used to create it. But the important part to me is that he's one of the original duatagonists.
His memories are valid even if they were experienced by someone else.
I'm curious, how has Spider-Man diverged? His partnership with Shadowcat affects him far less than Noir is by his partnership with Gwen, so it's not that. Also, if Noir is an amalgam what parts of 65-Peter does he have besides his memories, which he doesn't think are his?
Anyway, implanted memories being valid is a bit of a touchy spot. I mean in cases of clones like Ben Reilly and Kaine they have Peter's memories but they refuse to identify as him. Peter also believes that clones are their own individuals, as he tells the recent Gwen Stacy clone in Clone Conspiracy; he even tells her that her memories don't mean she's the same person. So what Noir is at this point is a bit of a crapshoot.
Madou Sutegobana
Autocorrupt has been disabled.
- Location
- Twin Realms Mandala
Aside from the passage of time, he also died, was taken apart, preservation only slows decay, and was reanimated and regenerated new tissue to replace the old with the mass likely provided by the earth he's currently in.
Mentally he has new issues due to trauma and concern about the state of his family and city in his own earth.
How much Spider-Man physically decayed is debatable given that he was put in preservation fluid and didn't mention any rot when he awoke. Likewise his problems seem to bother him less than they do Noir; likely because he had 5 years to deal whereas Noir woke up in an alley.