Chapter 84 - Face it Tiger...
So I read the latest Miles Morales book. Good news: Lana's still heroic and definitely against being a criminal. Bad news: Bendis completely derailed Lori's character and she went from telling Lana to make her own choices to laughing to her face when Lana admits she wants to be a hero and telling her daughter 'Too fucking bad. You're underage, so legally you're mine'. Lana even attacks her mom over this, which shows how deteriorated this relationship is.
So yeah...definitely not using that at all :/
Anyway, this chapter's Road to Recovery; the majority of people voted against the angst so let's take a bit of a break from it...kinda. I'll let you see what I mean when we get to the chapter itself.
Sufficent Velocity Side-Note - I might have to stop posting here at some point given lack of current feedback. I'll give notice if and/or when I decide to do this so one can transfer over to spacebattles or fanfiction for future updates. Thanks for the feedback so far and I hope you guys enjoy this one.
Chapter 84: Face it Tiger...
"Stop fucking moving!"
Peter ducked the clumsy punch and stepped back with a light hop. The smell of blood and vomit in the air made it hard to focus, and the cheers and jeers from the crowd didn't help much in that regard. It was bad before, but after Frost's gallery it bordered on unbearable and sometimes it took everything he had not to just scream at them all to shut up and maybe actually take a damned bath to wash the blood off.
The worst part? This was probably the most relaxing thing he'd done all week.
"Focus, Spider." He felt a touch at his left shoulder and his head snapped to meet Felicia's gaze. Meeting her in a back-alley fight club wasn't exactly his idea of a good time, but apparently she'd gotten a taste for it. It probably beat hanging out in ritzy parties and pretending to like the people who talked behind her back; or at least it did for him. He still had no clue why she was really doing it and she didn't want to tell him.
Which was just fine by him. They were hardly friends.
It was 2 on 3 - previously 6 until just now - and he was flagging. One week of drinking himself stupid and filling up on painkillers and his body still felt like it was flushing out his system. Either the Spider-God decided to take back his protection for being such a lazy twit or he'd pushed too far.
Felicia charged ahead first and he did the same. She delivered a swift punch to the closest thug's gut which Peter followed with an elbow to his face, blood staining the sleeve of his white shirt. The first of the three fell on his back and spat out a curse, though it was muddled from the blood and spit. Felicia rolled her eyes and kicked him at the right side of his jaw to knock him out.
2 left.
She took the smaller one on the left, which left him with the roided gorilla at the center. The smug bastard was still grinning and judging by the way he looked at him he must've thought his muscles could make up for his brain being the size of a pea, "Come on, little boy." He gestured Peter to come closer, the messy tattoo covering his face shifting at the movement of the skin.
This would be quick.
Peter ran towards him and, after dodging his sweeping punch, tackled him against the cage. The big galoot grunted and Peter kneed his side, earning a muted cry of pain that was almost unheard through the cheers of the crowd.
"You're tougher than you look!" Peter blocked the punch and headbutted him. Blood hit the skin of his forehead and he winced. Maybe going to a fight club when he was still reeling wasn't a good idea, but was drinking himself into a stupor any better? At least here was still sober.
Peter kneed his side again and smashed his head against the surface of the chain link cage. The crowd cheered and booed in equal measure while money began to change hands. If he won this then he could get a decent kickback even if he had to split it with Hardy - which was doubtful considering it must have been a drop in the bucket for someone like her. Sucking in a deep breath, he raised his fist and prepared a final punch-
What the hell were they doing here?
Peter's head snapped up and he blinked, trying and failing to trick himself into thinking it was just another hallucination. Ben and May Parker were in the crowd, both eyes wide and mouth agape as they stared at him. They stood out like a sore thumb in the crowd, though thankfully no one paid them any mind, all of them too busy cheering and betting on the fights to care about a couple of Queens suburbanites.
Speaking of the fight.
His spider-sense rang, but he was so distracted that he didn't notice the first flying for his face till it made contact. Peter stumbled back and held his nose with both hands, a pained groan escaping his lips. Ben screamed something at him - a warning - but it only served to distract him more. How the hell were they there? Or was he just seeing things again like the ghost from last night?
A pair of hands circled around his neck and smashed him to the ground, meaty fingers pushing against the flesh. Peter looked up and glared at the meathead grinning down at him. His first instinct was to release a burst of webbing and beat his face into the ground, but that would've made it a bit too obvious.
In the end he never got the chance to. Before Peter could pry the bastard's fingers off a kick landed at the side of the lunk's head and he was quickly knocked out, falling on Peter's chest with a dull groan, "Shit..." Peter kicked him off and looked up to see Hardy smirking down at him, the silver-blonde offering him a hand which he promptly ignored. It was embarrassing enough that she had to 'save' him, thanks.
And the two of them were still there. Either they were real or this hallucination was really damn persistent.
"We have a winner! These two-"
Peter shoved past the would-be announcer and opened the door to the cage. Parts of the crowd cheered and patted him in the back while others spat curses at him, but he paid them no mind. Right now all his attention was focused on a pair of sheep in a wolves den.
"Peter-"
"What the hell are you two doing here?" he hissed, cutting off May's worried exclamation, "Do you two have a deathwish, coming here on your own?
"We're-"
"No, nevermind, I don't wanna hear it." He wiped the blood on his forehead and let out a frustrated breath. Seeing them again should've been a good thing, but this was the last place for a reunion of any kind, "Just...get out of here before any of these guys wise up and-"
"Having troubles, Spider?" He turned and glared at Hardy, though the masked thief just smiled back in response. If there was someone else who stuck out in a place like this then it was definitely her: fancy clothes, make-up, silver-blonde hair and a mask that barely covered the space around her eyes...she couldn't have looked less like an outcast if she tried. Difference was she could take care of herself, something Ben and May couldn't claim.
"Not the time, Hardy..."
"Well, I hope you didn't plan to leave without your prize." She threw a crinkled envelope his way. He counted enough to pay multiple month's rent easy, "Now, if you're planning to have a conversation then I suggest we do it out of sight of your 'fans'."
He wanted to tell her to pike off, but seeing the pleading looks on Ben and May's faces made him bite his tongue. He did plan to talk to them...at some point. Definitely not in the middle of a fight club after he got himself bloodied trying to pay rent, though.
It took them a while to find a place where he was sure they were relatively alone, but all throughout it he felt their stares boring into his back. Hardy seemed happy, at least, though that wasn't exactly comforting to him right now. The temptation to spend half his prize on a entire shelf of whiskey got more tempting by the second.
They stopped at an alley that was distinctly lacking in activity. Peter took a cursory glance at both ends of the narrow path and nodded. Definitely alone then, "...What the hell are you doing here?" he asked after a moment of silence. His 'parents' blinked in surprise and he continued, "How the hell did you find me?" He didn't exactly announce it to the world. Even Hardy only ran into him by chance.
The two of them looked at one another uncertainly before Ben eventually spoke up, "We...got a message. The number was unknown, but it told us that you were here."
"An unknown message?" Peter pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, "You didn't stop to think that maybe running after a random message was a bad idea?" For all he knew Murdock could have sent it. The blind bastard - a devil, he reminded himself ruefully - was petty despite all his claims to higher morality and thought.
"We were worried about you, Peter," May said softly, "We didn't see you after that madness a week ago and...is this what you do with your free time?"
"You've seen more on the news..." He softly batted away the hand that reached for his face and frowned down at the ground. There was a reason he didn't advertise. Fighting against crooks and 'Supervillains' or fighting in a club to get money; same thing in the end, but not everyone saw it that way. He was damn sure Gwen would give him a lecture on safer things to do for 'fun'.
"I suppose it's shocking despite all that," Hardy chimed in. Peter didn't bother to glare at her and she stepped forward with a hand offered towards Ben, an easy smile on her face, "Good afternoon to you both, my name is Felicia Hardy. Ben and May Parker, I assume?"
"Um...yes." Ben shook her hand awkwardly and gave her a confused look, "Um...by Felicia Hardy do you mean the one on the television?"
"That's a rather vague description, but I guess I have to say yes." She shook May's hand as well, the sickly sweet smile never leaving. He wanted to wipe it off her face, "Pleasure to finally meet you two."
"Um, you as well." May wrung her hands together and looked back at Peter. She was probably confused that apparently someone besides them, Bullseye, Lana and Gwen knew about his 'condition', "Is she a friend of yours, Peter?"
"Yes, Peter and I are...close acquaintances, one could say." This time he did glare at her, though she paid it no mind. He definitely heard the double meaning in her words, and judging by the surprised furrow of the brows Ben had he did too, "Your son's been helping me and a few others out so I'll admit it's interesting to meet face to face with the two who raised him."
"Enough with the sweet talk, Hardy. It's not gonna make me help you." He scoffed, "You two...look, if you were hoping for a talk here then you're gonna be disappointed. This ain't exactly the place for a heart to heart."
"Then come back with us." Ben said, his voice taking on a more forceful tone. It reminded him of the lectures him...the kid...whoever he was got a few years ago, "Peter, we deserve a chance to understand all that's happening and with Gwen coming back from Washington...it's better now than later, right, kiddo?" He tried to smile, but it came of as forced as the nickname did.
Peter would've rolled his eyes at the lecturing act, but the sight of Felicia's pursed lips and narrowed eyes drew his attention, "Stacy's in Washington..." He could practically see the gears turning in her head. Despite Lana's comments Hardy wasn't dumb - no more than him or anyone else, at least - and she could see the end of the puzzle when someone dangled it in front of her.
"Hardy-"
"Oh, how could I have missed it?" Her smile shifted, going from sickly sweet to smugly satisfied. It wasn't a good look on her, "Gwen Stacy is Spider-Woman...the irony's almost storybook, isn't it? The Lizard whose death led to her being hunted as a criminal was her best friend and now he's Spider-Man. Terrific."
"She's not-"
"Don't try to lie, Spider. You're not very good at it," she interrupted, "I suppose it explains a lot of things, though I'm confused on how you can stand to be around her given your history. One would think it'd be difficult considering she beat you to death."
"You don't want me to lie? Fine, how about this: you don't shut your mouth I'll make you." Ben and May winced at the blunt threat while Felicia remained nonplussed, crossing her arms and looking him right in the eye. Peter glared at her for a few seconds before turning his attention back to Ben and May, "And you two need to be careful on who you tell. We're lucky this alley's deserted."
"Calm down." Felicia clicked her tongue and uncrossed her arms, "What exactly do you think I'll do with this? I've seen the news. She's one of Captain America's pets, the 'Avengers'. If I start running my mouth that entire group will come down on me and I'll accomplish nothing but making her more famous than she already is. Besides, I may not have any love for her but I don't want her dead. Or do you think so little of me that you think I'd let her die out of spite?"
"You definitely sounded like you wanted her head on a pike." He sighed, "Look, just keep quiet about this. Bad enough that Murdock knows who we are, I don't need every schmuck in this city sharing in." Considering how obsessed they were with her they'd probably batter down her house just to catch a glimpse of the 'woman behind the mask' or some other fancy saying.
"If that diable knows who you are then you have more to worry about him than you do me."
"Point." He was pretty sure the only reason Murdock didn't expose them was because he was playing some kind of long game, "...Come on, you two, let's go back to your house. Something tells me whoever sent you that message is waiting."
Sometimes Peter hated being right.
Seeing Gwen again, he couldn't deny it was a relief. The blonde sat at one end of the table and she looked...well, better than before, at least. Granted that wasn't a hard pull considering her mental breakdown a week ago, but it was a nice sight all the same. The blonde sat at one side of the table and smiled softly when she saw them enter the dining room. She was wearing a hoodie and a pair of old jeans and sneakers, though judging by the way they shifted he doubted they were real clothes.
Still, she was a damn sight better than his 'sister' sitting across from her.
Teresa looked up slightly at their approach, a ghost of a smile playing on her face, "Right on time. Good."
"Teresa...guessing it was you who sent them my way," Peter said. He couldn't bother to muster up a glare; she probably (hard to tell with her) wouldn't even see it.
"Yes. A bit of a risky move, but I was sure you needed a push."
"Risky move? No, it was a dumb move. They could've gotten killed or at least mugged. Didn't think of that, 'Madame Web'?"
"I had my sort-of apprentice Anya trail them. Anyone that got so much as an inch too close wouldn't get very far," she said casually, "She followed them until you made contact in the club, at which point she broke off."
"You've got all the answers, don't you?"
"It's my job, even if I don't get paid for it-"
"Okay, okay, hold up." Gwen said, finally speaking up, "I'm super confused here. Peter, who the fu- heck is this?" Peter raised an eyebrow. Why she still insisted on censoring herself around the Parkers he had no clue; it wasn't like they hadn't seen her trash talking the clowns on the TV already, "I mean when I got here she was just lounging around like she owned the place and said she was a cousin or something."
"Close enough...she's my sister."
That got their attention. Ben and May looked at him like he grew a second head while Gwen stared at Teresa with a completely blank expression. The older woman laughed under her breath and leaned back on the chair, "A bit of warning might have been better there, Petey." Peter scowled at the nickname, which she again paid no attention to, "I was kind of hoping to ease them into it."
"That went out the window when you had them walk down alleys to find me." Peter scoffed, "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be catching up with Bullseye or something? Last I checked he was shellshocked finding out his alleged former squadmate is alive."
"Business before pleasure." She waved a hand through the air and gestured to the three remaining chairs, "We need to get some things out of the way, Petey, and if I left it to you then I'm sure you'd be content to stall until Gwendolyne dragged you kicking and screaming from your apartment."
"You don't know anything about me, 'sis'." The words held less bite than he intended, and judging by the slight tilt of her head Teresa caught that as well, "...Let's just get this over with. Sooner I don't have to see you again the better I'll be." He sat down on the seat farthest from Teresa and waited for Ben and May to take the remaining two. Something told him they'd need to be sitting to get through this.
"I can tell you're lying about that. You know you don't always have to play the act of the loner." Peter didn't say anything. Teresa sighed, "Alright, be that way then. Let's start from the beginning: tell them what happened at the smelting factory."
"What's she talking about?" Gwen looked at him worriedly. He wished his next words were 'nothing to worry about', but he was done lying, "Is she talking about our fight with that Kasady guy? The serial killer?"
"Yes, but not what you think," Teresa said, "This isn't about your morality, Gwendolyne; though I'm glad it was the choice you made."
"I'm sorry, I'm still reeling from this," May said softly, "You said you're Peter's...sister?" she asked, getting a muted nod in return, "Th-That doesn't make any sense. Richard and Mary didn't have another child. Peter was the only one who..."
"Peter was the only one who could be normal." There was a tinge of sadness in her voice, "When mom and dad died he was only 3, but I was 10 and I'd already seen things that could make me a target. H.Y.D.R.A isn't exactly picky about going after children if they think there's a profit in it." Her smiled turned more sardonic, "S.H.I.E.L.D wiped me from the records. Officially I'm Teresa Durand and my parents died in a car crash when I was an infant. Less messy that way."
"Y-You realize we can't take this without any proof, right?" Ben said.
"Is it any more absurd than your son coming back from the dead?" She asked. Neither Ben or May answered and she let out a soft breath, "Here, it's the same picture I showed Peter. It's one of the few things from them that they let me keep."
The picture of 'his' entire family together made him feel different compared to before. Back then he'd denied it outright, so convinced that no matter what he couldn't have been the Peter Parker of this universe. Now...well, it was just another reminder how much he'd been lied to, how impossible the idea of being normal could ever be. Lizard serum or not he apparently had a sister who could see the future and into different worlds.
"This is so fucked up..." Gwen muttered, completely forgetting to censor herself in her shock, "So, wait, you're Peter's sister and you have...what, exactly?"
"Spider powers. Anansi chose us both, it seems." Again with the talk of totems and destiny. Still, he couldn't deny it sounded less and less silly the more time passed, "I can see the future and into different worlds, though it's something I prefer not to use. Besides that I can defend myself just fine with my gifts. I can't hold a candle to you now that you've been bonded with what remains of Klyntar, but it's enough."
"Klyntar?"
"She means the kid. The symbiote." Peter sighed. This was another reason he didn't want Teresa meeting them. A blind long-lost sister who could see into the future? It sounded more outlandish than Murdock being possessed by the damn devil, "Look, can we stop with the Twenty Questions? She claims she's my sister and she can see into the future; or at least she's really lucky."
"Right..." Gwen shook her head, obviously still in shock from the bombshells his 'sister' dropped, "Look, you were talking about the smelting factory?"
"Yeah..." He looked down for a brief moment and bit his lip. Admitting it shouldn't have been so hard compared to everything else, but saying outright his life was just a lie wasn't something he could pretend didn't bother him, "You...do you remember when we were fighting in the factory and those two helped us?"
"Yeah, the one with the claws and her partner. I saw them before." Gwen nodded, "What about them? I heard they worked for S.H.I.E.L.D?"
"Maybe, but that's not what's important." He took a deep breath and steeled himself. Teresa gave him an encouraging nod, "Her partner...the guy in the coat in the mask...he's Spider-Man. The original one, I mean...the one who came here."
It only took a few seconds for the words to sink in, but for him it felt like an eternity. Gwen's eyes widened and she stood, the chair clattering to the ground with a loud thud at the suddenness of the action, "W-Wait, what?!" she choked out, looking between him and Teresa frantically. There went any hope of this being easy, "W-Wait, okay-okay-okay..." She took a moment to breath in and out before she spoke up again, "That doesn't- isn't he dead? S.H.I.E.L.D had the body, right?"
"I was dead too, remember?" His words were bitter and he hated that he couldn't look them in the eyes. Ben and May seemed to take it better, at least in the sense that they weren't screaming. Still the way their hands held onto each other in a vice grip made it obvious that it wasn't easy passing for them either, "I don't know how he came back, but he's there and he's alive..." And nearly killed him in a rage, but they didn't need to know that.
Another moment of silence passed before May spoke up, "So...wh-what does this mean?"
"It means that a lot of ambiguity no longer applies," Teresa answered for him, "While I can't deny the possibility that the Pariah might have copied the other Spider-Man's mind wholesale it wouldn't explain why there are residual memories. I can only assume then that the entity that brought your son back gave him Spider-Man's memories as a sort of stopgap solution. An imperfect one, certainly, but it kept him from relapsing."
"Okay, okay, just...stop." Gwen closed her eyes and let out a frustrated breath, her hoodie shifting and moving in response, "You're telling me the old Spider-Man, the one who died before Peter came back, is running around again and that Peter's clusterfucked memories are because something made him that way on purpose?"
"Yes," Teresa said bluntly, "This shouldn't be so much of a shock, Gwendolyne. Did you think your powers could be replicated so easily because of radiation? As much as Ms. Moon might claim to be the source of your abilities she can't even come close to replicating it en-masse and giving it to all her troops. The only reason she ever got that far was because Anansi chose you...the same way he chose me and Peter's patron chose him."
"God, this mystical bullshit's giving me a headache..." She picked up the chair shakily and sat back down, fingers rubbing her temples, "Okay, okay, so Peter's really Peter without a doubt...that's good. That's good." She nodded and took a deep breath. He would've thought she'd be happier knowing she was right all along, but she only seemed worse off than before, "I just don't get this magic stuff..."
"Did you never wonder how a radioactive spider biting you caused you to develop powers? If it was that simple you'd think that the government and everyone else would've figured that out decades ago. Your connection to the web of life is far more tangential to Peter or myself, but make no mistake: you are tethered to it. Anansi might not dictate your choices, but he's always there."
"Like a creepy uncle looking over your shoulder." The slight smile Gwen had was comforting. At least she was joking again, "So my powers came because this Anansi dude decided that I'd make a good appetizer for his radioactive spider...no, that's still fucking weird."
"It was shocking the first time for me too." Teresa's head shifted to Ben and May, her lips curled in a slight frown, "I'm sorry for getting this all out in the open like this, but I thought it was better than leaving you both guessing."
"No, it's...it's fine. We're just glad Peter is alright..." Ben said, his left hand holding onto May's right tightly, "This...I won't pretend this isn't hard to understand, but it's better than running blind."
"But I still can't give you what you want." Peter clenched his hands into shaky fists, "These memories in my head...I don't know which one I'm 'supposed' to be, but I don't want to go back to the one I remember. Someone who was so desperate to feel better about himself that he made one of his only other friends feel worse, someone who was so obsessed with the idea of hitting back against his bullies that he risked it all and turned himself into a monster. I don't wanna be that person again...I can't."
Peter stood up and turned away from them. He couldn't look them in the eye, couldn't bear to see the look in their faces when they realized that they weren't getting the one they wanted and they were left with some patchwork thing that didn't belong in either of these damn universes. Madhouse or the Depression...he didn't feel like he was going to last much longer either way the rate he was going.
Eventually he heard a pair of footsteps before a wrinkled hand cupped his cheek and tilted his head to the side, "We're not asking you to." May said, her smile small and somber, "Peter, we're just glad you're alive. I won't pretend this isn't difficult or that I'll ever fully understand it all, but I know you being here - whoever you want to be - is better than you buried because of a tragic accident."
"I'm not your son..."
"We can start over," Ben said and stood to join them, "I don't know if this is a miracle or we're wasting our time, but isn't it better if we try? Waffling around never did anyone any good." He clapped him on his right shoulder and nodded, "I'm not saying we're gonna go fishing or I'll give you girl advice - unless that's what you want - but I know that living day to day worrying isn't what me and May want."
"...I've treated you both like shit for months." And despite it all they still refused to give up on him. He felt like the prodigal son, except he didn't have the decency to try and beg for forgiveness. They just gave it to him.
"You saved us, remember?" Ben said, "If it weren't for you that Vulture man would've killed us."
"If it wasn't for me you would've never been in his crosshairs." He let out a tired breath and looked down at the floor. This was supposed to make him feel better - and he couldn't deny that it did, at least partly - but the open arms and warm smiles just reminded him of how often he'd taken them for granted or how much riskier it'd be if they didn't cut him out of their lives right then and there.
"You can't blame yourself for everything, Peter." Gwen said, her voice soft, "That's what you told me, remember?"
"Difference is that the things you blame yourself for really aren't your fault." Peter shook his head, "Look, I don't want to argue. I'm just...I'm happy that none of you are kicking me to the pavement right now, but this isn't a happy ending. Half this city still wants my head on a stock and I've got a psychopath and the damn Kingpin after my head. I'm lucky I made it this far..."
"You mean Murdock?" Gwen scowled at his nod and let out a frustrated breath, "That fucker...look, I can help-"
"Actually, you can't." Teresa interrupted, causing the younger Spider to glare at her, "I know it seems simple, but Matt Murdock isn't an enemy you can beat down and throw in jail even besides his connections and capabilities."
"He's a blind lawyer-"
"Who's possessed by the devil," Peter interrupted. It was obvious by the utterly flat look that Gwen had that she didn't believe him, "Look, I know it seems insane, but at this point it shouldn't even come as a surprise. I didn't believe her at first either."
"Yeah, but...Peter, you know how insane this sounds, right? You're telling me that Matt Murderdock is possessed by a devil straight out of the bible? That he has a pitchfork he's keeping up his ass or something?"
"Nothing so cartoonish, but demons, angels and the afterlife do exist." Teresa laughed under her breath at the complete silence that came from the Superhero, "I'm sorry if I rocked your worldview. It's the truth, though, and in a reality where alternate universes, superpowers and destiny exist it's hardly the most shocking revelation to have. For most of us on this earth it won't be our concern till we're six feet under."
"Still, a devil?" Gwen asked, her voice becoming more obviously desperate.
"Afraid so, and all without an angel to make things a bit more equal." Teresa tapped her gloved fingers over the table and smiled wryly, "The Beast has been here long before any of us in this room were born and, I suspect, long after we pass on."
"Look, that doesn't matter." Gwen said. Peter could tell even she didn't believe that claim, "I'm not just gonna sit around while Murdock or a devil or whatever tries to turn Peter into his goddamn apprentice! I can-"
"Use Klyntar's power? Or do you mean calling the Avengers to assault his base?" Teresa interrupted, a hint of impatience seeping into her words, "If it were that easy the Chaste would've killed him long ago. Matthew isn't an enemy you can jail and even death won't stop the corruption. The Beast isn't something that can be beaten down in a pure physical fight, no matter how strong the battering ram. In all honesty you're lucky he turned his attention from you."
"What do you mean by that?" Peter slipped past Ben and May and stepped closer to the table again.
"I mean that your arrival here derailed Murdock's attentions." Teresa sighed, "I've seen futures where you fight against Murdock by yourself, Gwendolyne, and in none of them is it a clean victory. It always costs you something: your dad in a coma, Klyntar degrading your sanity or even having to give up your morals like what happened with Cletus Kasady. The only world where you succeeded was the one where you received the power of a god, and I know for a fact that it's not coming to pass here."
"Bullshit!" Gwen stood up and glared down at her. Dark veins shifted up her neck and reached her jaw, "So you're telling me I'm just supposed to sit here and let Murderdock have at Peter like he's a prime fucking rib?"
"If you don't then you'll both lose. I've searched and searched, but there's nothing and no future where your intervention helped things along. It just made things worse. Sometimes...Sometimes inaction is better, despite how it seems. Fate's a tangled web and a cruel mistress all in one."
"Fuck your fate crap!" She slammed her hand on the table and the wood immediately cracked and splintered, "I'm not going to sit here and do nothing! Trying is better than just waiting with my thumbs up my ass!"
"Even if it means Peter's death?"
All the rage and indignation on Gwen's face drained immediately. Peter looked back at Ben and May and hurriedly gestured for them to leave the room, but they remained rooted to the spot, "What...What do you mean by that?" Gwen finally asked after seconds of heavy silence.
"I don't want to tell you...but if that's what it takes to convince you, fine. Don't blame me afterwards." Teresa pursed her lips and pressed her hands together, "When you first got your powers you wanted to figure out your threshold. Your plan to do that was to participate in the charity wrestling match She-Hulk hosted at your school. You thought that if you did it then fame and glory were yours for the taking."
"H-How do you-"
"Because it's the story of many of the ones who got bit," She interrupted, "A story I've seen far too many times than I'd like. Whether it's you or Peter or Mary Jane or who knows else, fame is almost always the first thought. And let's get to the next part of the story - when you were nearly on stage you saw that someone had robbed the cash register and you doubled back, giving up your first chance at stardom to stop a petty crime and saving Ben Parker in the process."
"Wait, that was you?" Ben asked, "I mean I always thought your voice sounded familiar, but I never thought that..."
"What does this have to do with anything, Teresa?" Peter asked.
"In saving Ben's life, she doomed yours."
"That's..." Gwen shook her head and let out a shaky breath, "That's not true..."
"In many worlds Ben Parker dies because Peter refused to stop the robber either out of spite or because he thought it was beneath him to to do so. This is the same: you were 'supposed' to ignore it and take your chance and Ben Parker was 'meant' to die because of it. Your interference shifted the web around and someone else needed to be a sacrifice...Peter took Ben's place."
"Y-You're lying..."
"Anansi wants hunters, Gwendolyne, and what better way to create rage than a sacrifice?" Teresa looked down at the table, her expression grim, "Ben's death would have convinced you that no crime was too small and it would've shaken Peter out of his fantasies. The bullies would've stopped harassing him out of pity and you confessed your identity to him out of guilt. He would've forgiven you and you channeled your grief into being a hero, but without being condemned and hunted as a criminal like you were here."
"Shut up..."
"In saving Ben's life you altered everyone's path, Peter included. The bullying never let up and you continued your path towards fame unabated. Peter grew to resent the bullies more than he already did and he created the Lizard Serum...and you know the rest." Her laugh was bitter, "Anansi got his sacrifice in the end. So you tell me, Gwendolyne; knowing what you do now would you save Ben again even if it meant Peter's death?"
"Teresa, that's enough!" Peter glared at her, though she looked at him without any hint of hesitation.
"You weren't supposed to come back, Peter. In every future I saw you remained dead the same way Ben did in those worlds where he was taken. If the Pariah didn't have a sense of humor you'd still be dead and buried. You weren't meant to be anything more than a sacrifice so Gwen could find strength in her grief. I'm sure the Pariah had a sick sense of thrill bringing you back specifically just to spite Anansi - his sacrifice turned into a hunter and a guardian. Irony of ironies."
"We're not their...playthings."
"But we all dance to their tune. It's the only reason you're still breathing."
He wanted to argue, but Gwen suddenly standing up and leaving through the backdoor drew all his attention. Peter threw his 'sister' one last glare before following her out of the kitchen. All of this talk of Spider-Gods and fate...he never liked it then and he liked it even less now. He never really believed in fate - both here and back in the Depression he was taught to work for what he wanted because no one was gonna just toss it at his lap.
The idea that he was alive only because someone wanted to play a joke was...he didn't know how to describe it, but it wasn't comforting.
He found Gwen on the steps with her knees tucked tucked to her chest, "Gwen..." Her head tilted up slightly to meet his gaze and he felt a painful stab in his chest when he saw the look of utter hopelessness in her eyes. It didn't suit someone who fought against hatred and fear for three years just because she wanted to do good, "...Look, don't listen to Teresa-"
"Do you think she's telling the truth?" She stared forward and rubbed at her eyes harshly, "Do you think that...me saving Uncle Ben led to you dying because fate or whatever decided someone had to die?"
"...I don't know." He sat at her side, their shoulders nearly touching, "All this talk of gods and fate...it's beyond me, really. Maybe she's right, maybe you saving Ben did lead to that kid...me dying because a giant spider somewhere else didn't like it, but I know one thing: you're not responsible for it."
"Hah, isn't it? You heard what she said-"
"It isn't." He took her right hand and squeezed it gently, "You did what you thought was right and you gave up your first shot at fame for it. If some overgrown spider threw a temper tantrum then that's hardly your fault. I blamed myself for what happened at Times Square because I stopped Sin Eater and got Jack's attention, but that's his fault. I tried to do the right thing and he chose to massacre civilians in response. If you knew what would happen you'd have saved both of us. You're a Superhero; it's what you do."
"I'm not feeling really heroic right now." She scooted closer and placed her head on his shoulder, "...You ever think about what it'd be like if neither of us ever got these powers? If we were just Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy?"
"I heard Teresa talk about a world like that...she said we were happy."
"But then all the people we helped out...guess that's out of the table, huh?" She laughed bitterly and closed her eyes, "I'm a big-time Avenger now, Spider-Woman's on the news every day...they think this shit's so easy, that it's not hard at all to risk your life or have Supervillains come after you and the people you love. Jessica helped people and now she's being shit on by assholes who need someone to blame. It's not fair..."
"If the world was fair it wouldn't need people like us. All we can do is try to make it less terrible."
She was quiet for a while after that and all he heard were her soft breaths. Peter was tempted to stand up and leave before she suddenly reciprocated the hold on her hand, "...Dad and Jess are out of town." She looked up at him and he stared into her blue eyes, "I don't wanna sleep alone..."
He knew what she was asking. A part of him wanted to refuse, to go out and let himself think about what happened, but the pleading look in her eyes caused any sort of refusal to die in his throat. His feelings for her...was it just because of what he felt before all of this madness began or were the past 6 months all on their own enough to bring them about?
In the end, did it change anything? Peter Parker, Spider-Man...one, both, neither; Gwen Stacy was a constant no matter what.
"Yeah...alright."
"Thanks..."
Not good enough.
Donald Roxxon stepped off the bed and put on the silken night robe, a frustrated breath coming and going. The cold air of the penthouse was normally relaxing, but right now all it did was add to his rising sense of frustration.
Not good enough.
He looked back at the sleeping young woman, her body barely covered by the thin blankets. Her name was Cecilia Carmichael and she came from a well-off family in Scotland. She was young, beautiful and creative; traits that helped her in her study of the arts. By all rights she had a bright future ahead of her and any man would've found himself lucky if she deigned to give them her attention.
But she still wasn't good enough.
Donald opened the door in frustration and made his way to the bar. When he'd first seen her not too long ago he'd been captivated with her fire-red hair and sultry smile and she in turn was drawn to him. She loved his stories of traveling to exotic locales such as Milan or the jungles of Africa and he wasn't ashamed to admit that her earnest desire to paint and express her creativity to the world was endearing as well.
She just wasn't who he wanted.
He poured himself a generous helping of bourbon and made his way to the balcony. The view from up here always calmed him; seeing the people down below struggle and meander through the roads and simply live day to day brought things into perspective. If the mood took him he could do whatever he wanted; it wasn't like most could say no to the Roxxon name.
Except perhaps her. Spider-Woman.
Donald still remembered his father's lectures and 'life lessons'. The old man was a bore and a strict taskmaster, but his words still stuck to mind even a decade after his death. One of them was a warning against 'craving what you can't have'; a lesson father dearest himself hadn't taken to heart given his own proclivities and hushed activities. It was one thing he agreed on without a doubt.
After all, what was the point of striving for the common? If he did that he'd be one of the drones down there content to coast their way through life simply surviving.
He swirled the bourbon and took a small sip. Spider-Woman...she was an enigma if he ever saw one. She'd made the scene only a scant few years ago and people loved her, but after that disastrous night where she was accused of murder it all turned around faster than one could blink. He himself paid her no mind at first; she was just another passing fad in a costume and they traveled in different circles.
That was until that fateful day in Mary Storm's disastrous party. That...creature who could flatten herself in such a grotesque manner was his first brush with the so-called Supervillains. It was the first time he'd feared for his life, the first time where he understood that his influence and power wouldn't matter.
And then she came and saved him. Donald's lips curled up in a wistful smile. He'd heard of her on the news before, but seeing her with his own eyes was...mesmerizing. Her power, her grace, the confidence she exuded...what other woman could compare to someone like her? Cecilia was someone who others would've admired or coveted, but after seeing such a display she might as well have been a pauper in rags.
Spider-Woman...she was what he deserved. He certainly deserved her more than that thug who ran around claiming a connection to her. 'Spider-Man'...he was nothing more than a pretender who shouldn't have gotten even a scrap of her attention. Spider-Man wasn't influential or blessed like him; he simply ran around town playing the part of an ineffectual vigilante. She'd see that someday. She was too good for someone of his ilk.
He took another sip of the alcoholic beverage and let his thoughts wander. She and a few others had been announced as part of the Avengers...surely meeting someone of his name would be of interest to such a burgeoning group? She'd refused his invitations before, but that was only because the cretin had thrown a tantrum on Times Square and she had to clean up his mess. Surely in a different setting she'd be far more receptive.
His thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of his phone back at the living room table. With a sigh he set the glass down and answered the cellphone, "What do you want, Kingsley? You'd better have a good reason to call at such an ungodly hour."
Roderick Kingsley was the quintessential example of a wolf in sheep's clothing. To the public at large he was a dandy fashion designer and the head of Kingsley's cosmetics; harmless and ultimately quirky in the sense that anyone who didn't have money would be considered insane. Donald and a few others knew better - Kingsley had his hands in every pot and when he called you listened, even if you had to bluster and complain along the way.
"Sorry, Donald, did I interrupt you?" He ignored his pealing laughter and waited for the old man to finish, "Just thought you wanted to know something interesting I've found-"
"I've already paid you your monthly dues, Roderick, I won't be blackmailed again-"
"Do you really think so little of me? Tut, tut, and here I was thinking of sharing something juicy about your dad's old super soldier experiments."
"What about them? They were failures." Anyone who wasn't a complete dunce knew the stories: the super soldier serum gifted to Captain America was meant to be one of many until saboteurs destroyed the research and killed the scientists. His father had the bright idea to try and recreate the formula with his own components passed around as vaccines (helped to avoid attention) and there were no results.
"You sure about that?" Kingsley said in that smugly knowing way of his. Donald was tempted to shut the phone then and there, "Cause someone caught on film begs to differ."
"What are you on about?"
"The girl with the exploding hands," he said, his voice sing-song, "I recognized her powers from the projected test results. It was from the V2-N2 variation of the formula if I'm remembering correctly."
"That's...impossible." Donald's grip on the phone tightened, "The V2-N2 was a failure on all fronts and it ended with either the subjects dying or showing no powers-"
"Not unless one of those participants was pregnant at the time." Kingsley interrupted. Donald could practically see his smile, "The girl's young - young enough that I could theorize she's the offspring from one of your unknowing participants. If you do some research you can probably find the proper dosage at which powers start manifesting and then..." He laughed, "Then I guess you can add another million to your blood money when you start selling it. Just don't forget my cut, Donnie boy."
Kingsley rattled off some more, but at that point Donald stopped listening. Powers...if he could find the proper dosage then he could give himself abilities above the faceless masses. His lips curled up in a smile. This would draw her attention, it had to.
I feel like calling this the 'Road to Recovery' was a misnomer :/ Teresa's exposition seems like it just made the leads (moreso Gwen) even more angsty, especially with the knowledge that the Spider-Gods are playing them like puppets for their amusement. Still the two do seem to find comfort in each other at the end and their dialogue next chapter is a tad more teasing and friendly.
The last part was a bit difficult. Originally it was going to be Jack-o-Lantern's POV, but I chunked him out because him appearing pretty much guaranteed bad times right out the gate. Now instead we get Donald Roxxon - while he's a weak character on his own (he's basically a modern day Gaston) he does connect more to Roderick Kingsley/Hobgoblin and sheds more light on Lana's backstory. Interested to see where I can take this since Gwen's personal antagonist is sorely lacking so far.
That the totemtic bullshittery reaches critical mass this chapter. Then again I can't be the only one who sees the multiverse and wonders why Uncle Ben always freaking dies. Here Teresa justifies it as Anansi just being a dick and assuming his avatars need a push to heroism...and considering the world where Ben didn't die ended with Peter as an asshole he might be right.
Still, it does add an awkward undertone to Peter and Gwen's relationship since Anansi ostensibly killed him off for her benefit. Him coming back was definitely not part of the plan.
Questions:
1. For those who supported pairing Noir and Gwen together I have to ask: how long do you honestly think it can last? I mean she's lightened up on his killing people, but I can't see her being cool with him associating with Punisher (mass murderer) or Bullseye (sadistic psychopath). This would probably come up at some point and I can't see them finding an agreement...
2. Following up on the above, do people even want stable/healthy romances in these kinds of fics or is drama what people search for? Another reviewer pointed out Kate would be far more healthy for Gwen and maybe Cindy for Peter, but those get far less attention or support and another reviewer commented it'd be 'boring' due to how the two don't argue and conflict with one another.
So yeah...definitely not using that at all :/
Anyway, this chapter's Road to Recovery; the majority of people voted against the angst so let's take a bit of a break from it...kinda. I'll let you see what I mean when we get to the chapter itself.
Sufficent Velocity Side-Note - I might have to stop posting here at some point given lack of current feedback. I'll give notice if and/or when I decide to do this so one can transfer over to spacebattles or fanfiction for future updates. Thanks for the feedback so far and I hope you guys enjoy this one.
Chapter 84: Face it Tiger...
"Stop fucking moving!"
Peter ducked the clumsy punch and stepped back with a light hop. The smell of blood and vomit in the air made it hard to focus, and the cheers and jeers from the crowd didn't help much in that regard. It was bad before, but after Frost's gallery it bordered on unbearable and sometimes it took everything he had not to just scream at them all to shut up and maybe actually take a damned bath to wash the blood off.
The worst part? This was probably the most relaxing thing he'd done all week.
"Focus, Spider." He felt a touch at his left shoulder and his head snapped to meet Felicia's gaze. Meeting her in a back-alley fight club wasn't exactly his idea of a good time, but apparently she'd gotten a taste for it. It probably beat hanging out in ritzy parties and pretending to like the people who talked behind her back; or at least it did for him. He still had no clue why she was really doing it and she didn't want to tell him.
Which was just fine by him. They were hardly friends.
It was 2 on 3 - previously 6 until just now - and he was flagging. One week of drinking himself stupid and filling up on painkillers and his body still felt like it was flushing out his system. Either the Spider-God decided to take back his protection for being such a lazy twit or he'd pushed too far.
Felicia charged ahead first and he did the same. She delivered a swift punch to the closest thug's gut which Peter followed with an elbow to his face, blood staining the sleeve of his white shirt. The first of the three fell on his back and spat out a curse, though it was muddled from the blood and spit. Felicia rolled her eyes and kicked him at the right side of his jaw to knock him out.
2 left.
She took the smaller one on the left, which left him with the roided gorilla at the center. The smug bastard was still grinning and judging by the way he looked at him he must've thought his muscles could make up for his brain being the size of a pea, "Come on, little boy." He gestured Peter to come closer, the messy tattoo covering his face shifting at the movement of the skin.
This would be quick.
Peter ran towards him and, after dodging his sweeping punch, tackled him against the cage. The big galoot grunted and Peter kneed his side, earning a muted cry of pain that was almost unheard through the cheers of the crowd.
"You're tougher than you look!" Peter blocked the punch and headbutted him. Blood hit the skin of his forehead and he winced. Maybe going to a fight club when he was still reeling wasn't a good idea, but was drinking himself into a stupor any better? At least here was still sober.
Peter kneed his side again and smashed his head against the surface of the chain link cage. The crowd cheered and booed in equal measure while money began to change hands. If he won this then he could get a decent kickback even if he had to split it with Hardy - which was doubtful considering it must have been a drop in the bucket for someone like her. Sucking in a deep breath, he raised his fist and prepared a final punch-
What the hell were they doing here?
Peter's head snapped up and he blinked, trying and failing to trick himself into thinking it was just another hallucination. Ben and May Parker were in the crowd, both eyes wide and mouth agape as they stared at him. They stood out like a sore thumb in the crowd, though thankfully no one paid them any mind, all of them too busy cheering and betting on the fights to care about a couple of Queens suburbanites.
Speaking of the fight.
His spider-sense rang, but he was so distracted that he didn't notice the first flying for his face till it made contact. Peter stumbled back and held his nose with both hands, a pained groan escaping his lips. Ben screamed something at him - a warning - but it only served to distract him more. How the hell were they there? Or was he just seeing things again like the ghost from last night?
A pair of hands circled around his neck and smashed him to the ground, meaty fingers pushing against the flesh. Peter looked up and glared at the meathead grinning down at him. His first instinct was to release a burst of webbing and beat his face into the ground, but that would've made it a bit too obvious.
In the end he never got the chance to. Before Peter could pry the bastard's fingers off a kick landed at the side of the lunk's head and he was quickly knocked out, falling on Peter's chest with a dull groan, "Shit..." Peter kicked him off and looked up to see Hardy smirking down at him, the silver-blonde offering him a hand which he promptly ignored. It was embarrassing enough that she had to 'save' him, thanks.
And the two of them were still there. Either they were real or this hallucination was really damn persistent.
"We have a winner! These two-"
Peter shoved past the would-be announcer and opened the door to the cage. Parts of the crowd cheered and patted him in the back while others spat curses at him, but he paid them no mind. Right now all his attention was focused on a pair of sheep in a wolves den.
"Peter-"
"What the hell are you two doing here?" he hissed, cutting off May's worried exclamation, "Do you two have a deathwish, coming here on your own?
"We're-"
"No, nevermind, I don't wanna hear it." He wiped the blood on his forehead and let out a frustrated breath. Seeing them again should've been a good thing, but this was the last place for a reunion of any kind, "Just...get out of here before any of these guys wise up and-"
"Having troubles, Spider?" He turned and glared at Hardy, though the masked thief just smiled back in response. If there was someone else who stuck out in a place like this then it was definitely her: fancy clothes, make-up, silver-blonde hair and a mask that barely covered the space around her eyes...she couldn't have looked less like an outcast if she tried. Difference was she could take care of herself, something Ben and May couldn't claim.
"Not the time, Hardy..."
"Well, I hope you didn't plan to leave without your prize." She threw a crinkled envelope his way. He counted enough to pay multiple month's rent easy, "Now, if you're planning to have a conversation then I suggest we do it out of sight of your 'fans'."
He wanted to tell her to pike off, but seeing the pleading looks on Ben and May's faces made him bite his tongue. He did plan to talk to them...at some point. Definitely not in the middle of a fight club after he got himself bloodied trying to pay rent, though.
It took them a while to find a place where he was sure they were relatively alone, but all throughout it he felt their stares boring into his back. Hardy seemed happy, at least, though that wasn't exactly comforting to him right now. The temptation to spend half his prize on a entire shelf of whiskey got more tempting by the second.
They stopped at an alley that was distinctly lacking in activity. Peter took a cursory glance at both ends of the narrow path and nodded. Definitely alone then, "...What the hell are you doing here?" he asked after a moment of silence. His 'parents' blinked in surprise and he continued, "How the hell did you find me?" He didn't exactly announce it to the world. Even Hardy only ran into him by chance.
The two of them looked at one another uncertainly before Ben eventually spoke up, "We...got a message. The number was unknown, but it told us that you were here."
"An unknown message?" Peter pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, "You didn't stop to think that maybe running after a random message was a bad idea?" For all he knew Murdock could have sent it. The blind bastard - a devil, he reminded himself ruefully - was petty despite all his claims to higher morality and thought.
"We were worried about you, Peter," May said softly, "We didn't see you after that madness a week ago and...is this what you do with your free time?"
"You've seen more on the news..." He softly batted away the hand that reached for his face and frowned down at the ground. There was a reason he didn't advertise. Fighting against crooks and 'Supervillains' or fighting in a club to get money; same thing in the end, but not everyone saw it that way. He was damn sure Gwen would give him a lecture on safer things to do for 'fun'.
"I suppose it's shocking despite all that," Hardy chimed in. Peter didn't bother to glare at her and she stepped forward with a hand offered towards Ben, an easy smile on her face, "Good afternoon to you both, my name is Felicia Hardy. Ben and May Parker, I assume?"
"Um...yes." Ben shook her hand awkwardly and gave her a confused look, "Um...by Felicia Hardy do you mean the one on the television?"
"That's a rather vague description, but I guess I have to say yes." She shook May's hand as well, the sickly sweet smile never leaving. He wanted to wipe it off her face, "Pleasure to finally meet you two."
"Um, you as well." May wrung her hands together and looked back at Peter. She was probably confused that apparently someone besides them, Bullseye, Lana and Gwen knew about his 'condition', "Is she a friend of yours, Peter?"
"Yes, Peter and I are...close acquaintances, one could say." This time he did glare at her, though she paid it no mind. He definitely heard the double meaning in her words, and judging by the surprised furrow of the brows Ben had he did too, "Your son's been helping me and a few others out so I'll admit it's interesting to meet face to face with the two who raised him."
"Enough with the sweet talk, Hardy. It's not gonna make me help you." He scoffed, "You two...look, if you were hoping for a talk here then you're gonna be disappointed. This ain't exactly the place for a heart to heart."
"Then come back with us." Ben said, his voice taking on a more forceful tone. It reminded him of the lectures him...the kid...whoever he was got a few years ago, "Peter, we deserve a chance to understand all that's happening and with Gwen coming back from Washington...it's better now than later, right, kiddo?" He tried to smile, but it came of as forced as the nickname did.
Peter would've rolled his eyes at the lecturing act, but the sight of Felicia's pursed lips and narrowed eyes drew his attention, "Stacy's in Washington..." He could practically see the gears turning in her head. Despite Lana's comments Hardy wasn't dumb - no more than him or anyone else, at least - and she could see the end of the puzzle when someone dangled it in front of her.
"Hardy-"
"Oh, how could I have missed it?" Her smile shifted, going from sickly sweet to smugly satisfied. It wasn't a good look on her, "Gwen Stacy is Spider-Woman...the irony's almost storybook, isn't it? The Lizard whose death led to her being hunted as a criminal was her best friend and now he's Spider-Man. Terrific."
"She's not-"
"Don't try to lie, Spider. You're not very good at it," she interrupted, "I suppose it explains a lot of things, though I'm confused on how you can stand to be around her given your history. One would think it'd be difficult considering she beat you to death."
"You don't want me to lie? Fine, how about this: you don't shut your mouth I'll make you." Ben and May winced at the blunt threat while Felicia remained nonplussed, crossing her arms and looking him right in the eye. Peter glared at her for a few seconds before turning his attention back to Ben and May, "And you two need to be careful on who you tell. We're lucky this alley's deserted."
"Calm down." Felicia clicked her tongue and uncrossed her arms, "What exactly do you think I'll do with this? I've seen the news. She's one of Captain America's pets, the 'Avengers'. If I start running my mouth that entire group will come down on me and I'll accomplish nothing but making her more famous than she already is. Besides, I may not have any love for her but I don't want her dead. Or do you think so little of me that you think I'd let her die out of spite?"
"You definitely sounded like you wanted her head on a pike." He sighed, "Look, just keep quiet about this. Bad enough that Murdock knows who we are, I don't need every schmuck in this city sharing in." Considering how obsessed they were with her they'd probably batter down her house just to catch a glimpse of the 'woman behind the mask' or some other fancy saying.
"If that diable knows who you are then you have more to worry about him than you do me."
"Point." He was pretty sure the only reason Murdock didn't expose them was because he was playing some kind of long game, "...Come on, you two, let's go back to your house. Something tells me whoever sent you that message is waiting."
Sometimes Peter hated being right.
Seeing Gwen again, he couldn't deny it was a relief. The blonde sat at one end of the table and she looked...well, better than before, at least. Granted that wasn't a hard pull considering her mental breakdown a week ago, but it was a nice sight all the same. The blonde sat at one side of the table and smiled softly when she saw them enter the dining room. She was wearing a hoodie and a pair of old jeans and sneakers, though judging by the way they shifted he doubted they were real clothes.
Still, she was a damn sight better than his 'sister' sitting across from her.
Teresa looked up slightly at their approach, a ghost of a smile playing on her face, "Right on time. Good."
"Teresa...guessing it was you who sent them my way," Peter said. He couldn't bother to muster up a glare; she probably (hard to tell with her) wouldn't even see it.
"Yes. A bit of a risky move, but I was sure you needed a push."
"Risky move? No, it was a dumb move. They could've gotten killed or at least mugged. Didn't think of that, 'Madame Web'?"
"I had my sort-of apprentice Anya trail them. Anyone that got so much as an inch too close wouldn't get very far," she said casually, "She followed them until you made contact in the club, at which point she broke off."
"You've got all the answers, don't you?"
"It's my job, even if I don't get paid for it-"
"Okay, okay, hold up." Gwen said, finally speaking up, "I'm super confused here. Peter, who the fu- heck is this?" Peter raised an eyebrow. Why she still insisted on censoring herself around the Parkers he had no clue; it wasn't like they hadn't seen her trash talking the clowns on the TV already, "I mean when I got here she was just lounging around like she owned the place and said she was a cousin or something."
"Close enough...she's my sister."
That got their attention. Ben and May looked at him like he grew a second head while Gwen stared at Teresa with a completely blank expression. The older woman laughed under her breath and leaned back on the chair, "A bit of warning might have been better there, Petey." Peter scowled at the nickname, which she again paid no attention to, "I was kind of hoping to ease them into it."
"That went out the window when you had them walk down alleys to find me." Peter scoffed, "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be catching up with Bullseye or something? Last I checked he was shellshocked finding out his alleged former squadmate is alive."
"Business before pleasure." She waved a hand through the air and gestured to the three remaining chairs, "We need to get some things out of the way, Petey, and if I left it to you then I'm sure you'd be content to stall until Gwendolyne dragged you kicking and screaming from your apartment."
"You don't know anything about me, 'sis'." The words held less bite than he intended, and judging by the slight tilt of her head Teresa caught that as well, "...Let's just get this over with. Sooner I don't have to see you again the better I'll be." He sat down on the seat farthest from Teresa and waited for Ben and May to take the remaining two. Something told him they'd need to be sitting to get through this.
"I can tell you're lying about that. You know you don't always have to play the act of the loner." Peter didn't say anything. Teresa sighed, "Alright, be that way then. Let's start from the beginning: tell them what happened at the smelting factory."
"What's she talking about?" Gwen looked at him worriedly. He wished his next words were 'nothing to worry about', but he was done lying, "Is she talking about our fight with that Kasady guy? The serial killer?"
"Yes, but not what you think," Teresa said, "This isn't about your morality, Gwendolyne; though I'm glad it was the choice you made."
"I'm sorry, I'm still reeling from this," May said softly, "You said you're Peter's...sister?" she asked, getting a muted nod in return, "Th-That doesn't make any sense. Richard and Mary didn't have another child. Peter was the only one who..."
"Peter was the only one who could be normal." There was a tinge of sadness in her voice, "When mom and dad died he was only 3, but I was 10 and I'd already seen things that could make me a target. H.Y.D.R.A isn't exactly picky about going after children if they think there's a profit in it." Her smiled turned more sardonic, "S.H.I.E.L.D wiped me from the records. Officially I'm Teresa Durand and my parents died in a car crash when I was an infant. Less messy that way."
"Y-You realize we can't take this without any proof, right?" Ben said.
"Is it any more absurd than your son coming back from the dead?" She asked. Neither Ben or May answered and she let out a soft breath, "Here, it's the same picture I showed Peter. It's one of the few things from them that they let me keep."
The picture of 'his' entire family together made him feel different compared to before. Back then he'd denied it outright, so convinced that no matter what he couldn't have been the Peter Parker of this universe. Now...well, it was just another reminder how much he'd been lied to, how impossible the idea of being normal could ever be. Lizard serum or not he apparently had a sister who could see the future and into different worlds.
"This is so fucked up..." Gwen muttered, completely forgetting to censor herself in her shock, "So, wait, you're Peter's sister and you have...what, exactly?"
"Spider powers. Anansi chose us both, it seems." Again with the talk of totems and destiny. Still, he couldn't deny it sounded less and less silly the more time passed, "I can see the future and into different worlds, though it's something I prefer not to use. Besides that I can defend myself just fine with my gifts. I can't hold a candle to you now that you've been bonded with what remains of Klyntar, but it's enough."
"Klyntar?"
"She means the kid. The symbiote." Peter sighed. This was another reason he didn't want Teresa meeting them. A blind long-lost sister who could see into the future? It sounded more outlandish than Murdock being possessed by the damn devil, "Look, can we stop with the Twenty Questions? She claims she's my sister and she can see into the future; or at least she's really lucky."
"Right..." Gwen shook her head, obviously still in shock from the bombshells his 'sister' dropped, "Look, you were talking about the smelting factory?"
"Yeah..." He looked down for a brief moment and bit his lip. Admitting it shouldn't have been so hard compared to everything else, but saying outright his life was just a lie wasn't something he could pretend didn't bother him, "You...do you remember when we were fighting in the factory and those two helped us?"
"Yeah, the one with the claws and her partner. I saw them before." Gwen nodded, "What about them? I heard they worked for S.H.I.E.L.D?"
"Maybe, but that's not what's important." He took a deep breath and steeled himself. Teresa gave him an encouraging nod, "Her partner...the guy in the coat in the mask...he's Spider-Man. The original one, I mean...the one who came here."
It only took a few seconds for the words to sink in, but for him it felt like an eternity. Gwen's eyes widened and she stood, the chair clattering to the ground with a loud thud at the suddenness of the action, "W-Wait, what?!" she choked out, looking between him and Teresa frantically. There went any hope of this being easy, "W-Wait, okay-okay-okay..." She took a moment to breath in and out before she spoke up again, "That doesn't- isn't he dead? S.H.I.E.L.D had the body, right?"
"I was dead too, remember?" His words were bitter and he hated that he couldn't look them in the eyes. Ben and May seemed to take it better, at least in the sense that they weren't screaming. Still the way their hands held onto each other in a vice grip made it obvious that it wasn't easy passing for them either, "I don't know how he came back, but he's there and he's alive..." And nearly killed him in a rage, but they didn't need to know that.
Another moment of silence passed before May spoke up, "So...wh-what does this mean?"
"It means that a lot of ambiguity no longer applies," Teresa answered for him, "While I can't deny the possibility that the Pariah might have copied the other Spider-Man's mind wholesale it wouldn't explain why there are residual memories. I can only assume then that the entity that brought your son back gave him Spider-Man's memories as a sort of stopgap solution. An imperfect one, certainly, but it kept him from relapsing."
"Okay, okay, just...stop." Gwen closed her eyes and let out a frustrated breath, her hoodie shifting and moving in response, "You're telling me the old Spider-Man, the one who died before Peter came back, is running around again and that Peter's clusterfucked memories are because something made him that way on purpose?"
"Yes," Teresa said bluntly, "This shouldn't be so much of a shock, Gwendolyne. Did you think your powers could be replicated so easily because of radiation? As much as Ms. Moon might claim to be the source of your abilities she can't even come close to replicating it en-masse and giving it to all her troops. The only reason she ever got that far was because Anansi chose you...the same way he chose me and Peter's patron chose him."
"God, this mystical bullshit's giving me a headache..." She picked up the chair shakily and sat back down, fingers rubbing her temples, "Okay, okay, so Peter's really Peter without a doubt...that's good. That's good." She nodded and took a deep breath. He would've thought she'd be happier knowing she was right all along, but she only seemed worse off than before, "I just don't get this magic stuff..."
"Did you never wonder how a radioactive spider biting you caused you to develop powers? If it was that simple you'd think that the government and everyone else would've figured that out decades ago. Your connection to the web of life is far more tangential to Peter or myself, but make no mistake: you are tethered to it. Anansi might not dictate your choices, but he's always there."
"Like a creepy uncle looking over your shoulder." The slight smile Gwen had was comforting. At least she was joking again, "So my powers came because this Anansi dude decided that I'd make a good appetizer for his radioactive spider...no, that's still fucking weird."
"It was shocking the first time for me too." Teresa's head shifted to Ben and May, her lips curled in a slight frown, "I'm sorry for getting this all out in the open like this, but I thought it was better than leaving you both guessing."
"No, it's...it's fine. We're just glad Peter is alright..." Ben said, his left hand holding onto May's right tightly, "This...I won't pretend this isn't hard to understand, but it's better than running blind."
"But I still can't give you what you want." Peter clenched his hands into shaky fists, "These memories in my head...I don't know which one I'm 'supposed' to be, but I don't want to go back to the one I remember. Someone who was so desperate to feel better about himself that he made one of his only other friends feel worse, someone who was so obsessed with the idea of hitting back against his bullies that he risked it all and turned himself into a monster. I don't wanna be that person again...I can't."
Peter stood up and turned away from them. He couldn't look them in the eye, couldn't bear to see the look in their faces when they realized that they weren't getting the one they wanted and they were left with some patchwork thing that didn't belong in either of these damn universes. Madhouse or the Depression...he didn't feel like he was going to last much longer either way the rate he was going.
Eventually he heard a pair of footsteps before a wrinkled hand cupped his cheek and tilted his head to the side, "We're not asking you to." May said, her smile small and somber, "Peter, we're just glad you're alive. I won't pretend this isn't difficult or that I'll ever fully understand it all, but I know you being here - whoever you want to be - is better than you buried because of a tragic accident."
"I'm not your son..."
"We can start over," Ben said and stood to join them, "I don't know if this is a miracle or we're wasting our time, but isn't it better if we try? Waffling around never did anyone any good." He clapped him on his right shoulder and nodded, "I'm not saying we're gonna go fishing or I'll give you girl advice - unless that's what you want - but I know that living day to day worrying isn't what me and May want."
"...I've treated you both like shit for months." And despite it all they still refused to give up on him. He felt like the prodigal son, except he didn't have the decency to try and beg for forgiveness. They just gave it to him.
"You saved us, remember?" Ben said, "If it weren't for you that Vulture man would've killed us."
"If it wasn't for me you would've never been in his crosshairs." He let out a tired breath and looked down at the floor. This was supposed to make him feel better - and he couldn't deny that it did, at least partly - but the open arms and warm smiles just reminded him of how often he'd taken them for granted or how much riskier it'd be if they didn't cut him out of their lives right then and there.
"You can't blame yourself for everything, Peter." Gwen said, her voice soft, "That's what you told me, remember?"
"Difference is that the things you blame yourself for really aren't your fault." Peter shook his head, "Look, I don't want to argue. I'm just...I'm happy that none of you are kicking me to the pavement right now, but this isn't a happy ending. Half this city still wants my head on a stock and I've got a psychopath and the damn Kingpin after my head. I'm lucky I made it this far..."
"You mean Murdock?" Gwen scowled at his nod and let out a frustrated breath, "That fucker...look, I can help-"
"Actually, you can't." Teresa interrupted, causing the younger Spider to glare at her, "I know it seems simple, but Matt Murdock isn't an enemy you can beat down and throw in jail even besides his connections and capabilities."
"He's a blind lawyer-"
"Who's possessed by the devil," Peter interrupted. It was obvious by the utterly flat look that Gwen had that she didn't believe him, "Look, I know it seems insane, but at this point it shouldn't even come as a surprise. I didn't believe her at first either."
"Yeah, but...Peter, you know how insane this sounds, right? You're telling me that Matt Murderdock is possessed by a devil straight out of the bible? That he has a pitchfork he's keeping up his ass or something?"
"Nothing so cartoonish, but demons, angels and the afterlife do exist." Teresa laughed under her breath at the complete silence that came from the Superhero, "I'm sorry if I rocked your worldview. It's the truth, though, and in a reality where alternate universes, superpowers and destiny exist it's hardly the most shocking revelation to have. For most of us on this earth it won't be our concern till we're six feet under."
"Still, a devil?" Gwen asked, her voice becoming more obviously desperate.
"Afraid so, and all without an angel to make things a bit more equal." Teresa tapped her gloved fingers over the table and smiled wryly, "The Beast has been here long before any of us in this room were born and, I suspect, long after we pass on."
"Look, that doesn't matter." Gwen said. Peter could tell even she didn't believe that claim, "I'm not just gonna sit around while Murdock or a devil or whatever tries to turn Peter into his goddamn apprentice! I can-"
"Use Klyntar's power? Or do you mean calling the Avengers to assault his base?" Teresa interrupted, a hint of impatience seeping into her words, "If it were that easy the Chaste would've killed him long ago. Matthew isn't an enemy you can jail and even death won't stop the corruption. The Beast isn't something that can be beaten down in a pure physical fight, no matter how strong the battering ram. In all honesty you're lucky he turned his attention from you."
"What do you mean by that?" Peter slipped past Ben and May and stepped closer to the table again.
"I mean that your arrival here derailed Murdock's attentions." Teresa sighed, "I've seen futures where you fight against Murdock by yourself, Gwendolyne, and in none of them is it a clean victory. It always costs you something: your dad in a coma, Klyntar degrading your sanity or even having to give up your morals like what happened with Cletus Kasady. The only world where you succeeded was the one where you received the power of a god, and I know for a fact that it's not coming to pass here."
"Bullshit!" Gwen stood up and glared down at her. Dark veins shifted up her neck and reached her jaw, "So you're telling me I'm just supposed to sit here and let Murderdock have at Peter like he's a prime fucking rib?"
"If you don't then you'll both lose. I've searched and searched, but there's nothing and no future where your intervention helped things along. It just made things worse. Sometimes...Sometimes inaction is better, despite how it seems. Fate's a tangled web and a cruel mistress all in one."
"Fuck your fate crap!" She slammed her hand on the table and the wood immediately cracked and splintered, "I'm not going to sit here and do nothing! Trying is better than just waiting with my thumbs up my ass!"
"Even if it means Peter's death?"
All the rage and indignation on Gwen's face drained immediately. Peter looked back at Ben and May and hurriedly gestured for them to leave the room, but they remained rooted to the spot, "What...What do you mean by that?" Gwen finally asked after seconds of heavy silence.
"I don't want to tell you...but if that's what it takes to convince you, fine. Don't blame me afterwards." Teresa pursed her lips and pressed her hands together, "When you first got your powers you wanted to figure out your threshold. Your plan to do that was to participate in the charity wrestling match She-Hulk hosted at your school. You thought that if you did it then fame and glory were yours for the taking."
"H-How do you-"
"Because it's the story of many of the ones who got bit," She interrupted, "A story I've seen far too many times than I'd like. Whether it's you or Peter or Mary Jane or who knows else, fame is almost always the first thought. And let's get to the next part of the story - when you were nearly on stage you saw that someone had robbed the cash register and you doubled back, giving up your first chance at stardom to stop a petty crime and saving Ben Parker in the process."
"Wait, that was you?" Ben asked, "I mean I always thought your voice sounded familiar, but I never thought that..."
"What does this have to do with anything, Teresa?" Peter asked.
"In saving Ben's life, she doomed yours."
"That's..." Gwen shook her head and let out a shaky breath, "That's not true..."
"In many worlds Ben Parker dies because Peter refused to stop the robber either out of spite or because he thought it was beneath him to to do so. This is the same: you were 'supposed' to ignore it and take your chance and Ben Parker was 'meant' to die because of it. Your interference shifted the web around and someone else needed to be a sacrifice...Peter took Ben's place."
"Y-You're lying..."
"Anansi wants hunters, Gwendolyne, and what better way to create rage than a sacrifice?" Teresa looked down at the table, her expression grim, "Ben's death would have convinced you that no crime was too small and it would've shaken Peter out of his fantasies. The bullies would've stopped harassing him out of pity and you confessed your identity to him out of guilt. He would've forgiven you and you channeled your grief into being a hero, but without being condemned and hunted as a criminal like you were here."
"Shut up..."
"In saving Ben's life you altered everyone's path, Peter included. The bullying never let up and you continued your path towards fame unabated. Peter grew to resent the bullies more than he already did and he created the Lizard Serum...and you know the rest." Her laugh was bitter, "Anansi got his sacrifice in the end. So you tell me, Gwendolyne; knowing what you do now would you save Ben again even if it meant Peter's death?"
"Teresa, that's enough!" Peter glared at her, though she looked at him without any hint of hesitation.
"You weren't supposed to come back, Peter. In every future I saw you remained dead the same way Ben did in those worlds where he was taken. If the Pariah didn't have a sense of humor you'd still be dead and buried. You weren't meant to be anything more than a sacrifice so Gwen could find strength in her grief. I'm sure the Pariah had a sick sense of thrill bringing you back specifically just to spite Anansi - his sacrifice turned into a hunter and a guardian. Irony of ironies."
"We're not their...playthings."
"But we all dance to their tune. It's the only reason you're still breathing."
He wanted to argue, but Gwen suddenly standing up and leaving through the backdoor drew all his attention. Peter threw his 'sister' one last glare before following her out of the kitchen. All of this talk of Spider-Gods and fate...he never liked it then and he liked it even less now. He never really believed in fate - both here and back in the Depression he was taught to work for what he wanted because no one was gonna just toss it at his lap.
The idea that he was alive only because someone wanted to play a joke was...he didn't know how to describe it, but it wasn't comforting.
He found Gwen on the steps with her knees tucked tucked to her chest, "Gwen..." Her head tilted up slightly to meet his gaze and he felt a painful stab in his chest when he saw the look of utter hopelessness in her eyes. It didn't suit someone who fought against hatred and fear for three years just because she wanted to do good, "...Look, don't listen to Teresa-"
"Do you think she's telling the truth?" She stared forward and rubbed at her eyes harshly, "Do you think that...me saving Uncle Ben led to you dying because fate or whatever decided someone had to die?"
"...I don't know." He sat at her side, their shoulders nearly touching, "All this talk of gods and fate...it's beyond me, really. Maybe she's right, maybe you saving Ben did lead to that kid...me dying because a giant spider somewhere else didn't like it, but I know one thing: you're not responsible for it."
"Hah, isn't it? You heard what she said-"
"It isn't." He took her right hand and squeezed it gently, "You did what you thought was right and you gave up your first shot at fame for it. If some overgrown spider threw a temper tantrum then that's hardly your fault. I blamed myself for what happened at Times Square because I stopped Sin Eater and got Jack's attention, but that's his fault. I tried to do the right thing and he chose to massacre civilians in response. If you knew what would happen you'd have saved both of us. You're a Superhero; it's what you do."
"I'm not feeling really heroic right now." She scooted closer and placed her head on his shoulder, "...You ever think about what it'd be like if neither of us ever got these powers? If we were just Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy?"
"I heard Teresa talk about a world like that...she said we were happy."
"But then all the people we helped out...guess that's out of the table, huh?" She laughed bitterly and closed her eyes, "I'm a big-time Avenger now, Spider-Woman's on the news every day...they think this shit's so easy, that it's not hard at all to risk your life or have Supervillains come after you and the people you love. Jessica helped people and now she's being shit on by assholes who need someone to blame. It's not fair..."
"If the world was fair it wouldn't need people like us. All we can do is try to make it less terrible."
She was quiet for a while after that and all he heard were her soft breaths. Peter was tempted to stand up and leave before she suddenly reciprocated the hold on her hand, "...Dad and Jess are out of town." She looked up at him and he stared into her blue eyes, "I don't wanna sleep alone..."
He knew what she was asking. A part of him wanted to refuse, to go out and let himself think about what happened, but the pleading look in her eyes caused any sort of refusal to die in his throat. His feelings for her...was it just because of what he felt before all of this madness began or were the past 6 months all on their own enough to bring them about?
In the end, did it change anything? Peter Parker, Spider-Man...one, both, neither; Gwen Stacy was a constant no matter what.
"Yeah...alright."
"Thanks..."
Not good enough.
Donald Roxxon stepped off the bed and put on the silken night robe, a frustrated breath coming and going. The cold air of the penthouse was normally relaxing, but right now all it did was add to his rising sense of frustration.
Not good enough.
He looked back at the sleeping young woman, her body barely covered by the thin blankets. Her name was Cecilia Carmichael and she came from a well-off family in Scotland. She was young, beautiful and creative; traits that helped her in her study of the arts. By all rights she had a bright future ahead of her and any man would've found himself lucky if she deigned to give them her attention.
But she still wasn't good enough.
Donald opened the door in frustration and made his way to the bar. When he'd first seen her not too long ago he'd been captivated with her fire-red hair and sultry smile and she in turn was drawn to him. She loved his stories of traveling to exotic locales such as Milan or the jungles of Africa and he wasn't ashamed to admit that her earnest desire to paint and express her creativity to the world was endearing as well.
She just wasn't who he wanted.
He poured himself a generous helping of bourbon and made his way to the balcony. The view from up here always calmed him; seeing the people down below struggle and meander through the roads and simply live day to day brought things into perspective. If the mood took him he could do whatever he wanted; it wasn't like most could say no to the Roxxon name.
Except perhaps her. Spider-Woman.
Donald still remembered his father's lectures and 'life lessons'. The old man was a bore and a strict taskmaster, but his words still stuck to mind even a decade after his death. One of them was a warning against 'craving what you can't have'; a lesson father dearest himself hadn't taken to heart given his own proclivities and hushed activities. It was one thing he agreed on without a doubt.
After all, what was the point of striving for the common? If he did that he'd be one of the drones down there content to coast their way through life simply surviving.
He swirled the bourbon and took a small sip. Spider-Woman...she was an enigma if he ever saw one. She'd made the scene only a scant few years ago and people loved her, but after that disastrous night where she was accused of murder it all turned around faster than one could blink. He himself paid her no mind at first; she was just another passing fad in a costume and they traveled in different circles.
That was until that fateful day in Mary Storm's disastrous party. That...creature who could flatten herself in such a grotesque manner was his first brush with the so-called Supervillains. It was the first time he'd feared for his life, the first time where he understood that his influence and power wouldn't matter.
And then she came and saved him. Donald's lips curled up in a wistful smile. He'd heard of her on the news before, but seeing her with his own eyes was...mesmerizing. Her power, her grace, the confidence she exuded...what other woman could compare to someone like her? Cecilia was someone who others would've admired or coveted, but after seeing such a display she might as well have been a pauper in rags.
Spider-Woman...she was what he deserved. He certainly deserved her more than that thug who ran around claiming a connection to her. 'Spider-Man'...he was nothing more than a pretender who shouldn't have gotten even a scrap of her attention. Spider-Man wasn't influential or blessed like him; he simply ran around town playing the part of an ineffectual vigilante. She'd see that someday. She was too good for someone of his ilk.
He took another sip of the alcoholic beverage and let his thoughts wander. She and a few others had been announced as part of the Avengers...surely meeting someone of his name would be of interest to such a burgeoning group? She'd refused his invitations before, but that was only because the cretin had thrown a tantrum on Times Square and she had to clean up his mess. Surely in a different setting she'd be far more receptive.
His thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of his phone back at the living room table. With a sigh he set the glass down and answered the cellphone, "What do you want, Kingsley? You'd better have a good reason to call at such an ungodly hour."
Roderick Kingsley was the quintessential example of a wolf in sheep's clothing. To the public at large he was a dandy fashion designer and the head of Kingsley's cosmetics; harmless and ultimately quirky in the sense that anyone who didn't have money would be considered insane. Donald and a few others knew better - Kingsley had his hands in every pot and when he called you listened, even if you had to bluster and complain along the way.
"Sorry, Donald, did I interrupt you?" He ignored his pealing laughter and waited for the old man to finish, "Just thought you wanted to know something interesting I've found-"
"I've already paid you your monthly dues, Roderick, I won't be blackmailed again-"
"Do you really think so little of me? Tut, tut, and here I was thinking of sharing something juicy about your dad's old super soldier experiments."
"What about them? They were failures." Anyone who wasn't a complete dunce knew the stories: the super soldier serum gifted to Captain America was meant to be one of many until saboteurs destroyed the research and killed the scientists. His father had the bright idea to try and recreate the formula with his own components passed around as vaccines (helped to avoid attention) and there were no results.
"You sure about that?" Kingsley said in that smugly knowing way of his. Donald was tempted to shut the phone then and there, "Cause someone caught on film begs to differ."
"What are you on about?"
"The girl with the exploding hands," he said, his voice sing-song, "I recognized her powers from the projected test results. It was from the V2-N2 variation of the formula if I'm remembering correctly."
"That's...impossible." Donald's grip on the phone tightened, "The V2-N2 was a failure on all fronts and it ended with either the subjects dying or showing no powers-"
"Not unless one of those participants was pregnant at the time." Kingsley interrupted. Donald could practically see his smile, "The girl's young - young enough that I could theorize she's the offspring from one of your unknowing participants. If you do some research you can probably find the proper dosage at which powers start manifesting and then..." He laughed, "Then I guess you can add another million to your blood money when you start selling it. Just don't forget my cut, Donnie boy."
Kingsley rattled off some more, but at that point Donald stopped listening. Powers...if he could find the proper dosage then he could give himself abilities above the faceless masses. His lips curled up in a smile. This would draw her attention, it had to.
I feel like calling this the 'Road to Recovery' was a misnomer :/ Teresa's exposition seems like it just made the leads (moreso Gwen) even more angsty, especially with the knowledge that the Spider-Gods are playing them like puppets for their amusement. Still the two do seem to find comfort in each other at the end and their dialogue next chapter is a tad more teasing and friendly.
The last part was a bit difficult. Originally it was going to be Jack-o-Lantern's POV, but I chunked him out because him appearing pretty much guaranteed bad times right out the gate. Now instead we get Donald Roxxon - while he's a weak character on his own (he's basically a modern day Gaston) he does connect more to Roderick Kingsley/Hobgoblin and sheds more light on Lana's backstory. Interested to see where I can take this since Gwen's personal antagonist is sorely lacking so far.
That the totemtic bullshittery reaches critical mass this chapter. Then again I can't be the only one who sees the multiverse and wonders why Uncle Ben always freaking dies. Here Teresa justifies it as Anansi just being a dick and assuming his avatars need a push to heroism...and considering the world where Ben didn't die ended with Peter as an asshole he might be right.
Still, it does add an awkward undertone to Peter and Gwen's relationship since Anansi ostensibly killed him off for her benefit. Him coming back was definitely not part of the plan.
Questions:
1. For those who supported pairing Noir and Gwen together I have to ask: how long do you honestly think it can last? I mean she's lightened up on his killing people, but I can't see her being cool with him associating with Punisher (mass murderer) or Bullseye (sadistic psychopath). This would probably come up at some point and I can't see them finding an agreement...
2. Following up on the above, do people even want stable/healthy romances in these kinds of fics or is drama what people search for? Another reviewer pointed out Kate would be far more healthy for Gwen and maybe Cindy for Peter, but those get far less attention or support and another reviewer commented it'd be 'boring' due to how the two don't argue and conflict with one another.
