Disclaimer: None of the characters used in this work of fiction is owned by it's author, nor does said author make any money from this work or the characters herein. Uhh... Yeah.

Notes: This is set around issue 26. I know that they use E-Mail at Seagate, but I felt hand written letters are much more intimate. So chalk it up to poetic lisense.

FanMail, By D. Calme

"Mail Call!!" echoed through the cement halls of Seagate penitentiary, "Little Alcaltraz." It was answered by the wary footfalls of men who'd spent their lives snatching at the crumbs of power, and ending locked away having their own crumbs snatched away by rats.

There against the wall, scanning through the entranced ranks as they shuffled by stood Abe Jenkins, aka the Beetle, aka Mach-1, aka Inmate number 33650D. Abe could be patient, he had all the time in the world really, and waiting would only make the pay-off that much sweeter. The only mail he expected was worth waiting a lifetime for, just to touch the same paper She touched, take in the traces of scent left by her fingertips, though little more than memories of her scent in truth. It was okay to lie to himself, as long as it kept him alive.

Abe nodded to a buddy of sorts, Seth Voelker. The scale faced man had a friendly grin, despite predatory fangs. Sidewinder didn't have mail, he never did, but he'd check anyway, week in and week out. Now there was a man with patience.

Finally, after most of the others had cleared out, Abe stepped off the wall and tapped the guard on his shoulder. Roscoe turned to him with a glare, slapped off his hand and promptly wiped away invisible dust. Jenkin's least favorite guard had a little name for him. Stain. Everything Abe touched, he'd leave a stain. The prison, the Guards, the other inmates, slime like Jenkins left stains on everything he came in contact with. The joke wasn't so funny the day Roscoe said Abe stained his girlfriend's letters. He went home to his wife sporting a black eye. Smith, a more likable guard, shook his head and handed him two pieces of mail. One was signed artfully by the woman who held his heart, his Songbird, Melissa. The other had no signature, no return address, only the words, "To the Beetle with love ."

Abe stood gaping at the envelop before he was shoved by Roscoe, his signal to move along. He took his two letters and rushed back to his cell, all the while being watched by Roscoe and his clique of Guards. Clutching the two pieces to himself, he slipped into the comfort of four cement walls and a barred window, covered the automatic door with a sheet, and switched on a small bed light. It was hard not to open the mysterious letter, but with a glance at the star specked night sky, the freedom just beyond those bars, he had to tear open Melissa's letter first. Her name fell from his lips like a prayer before he began. With the first few strokes of her pen, his mind caught and held the memory of her voice and spoke those words with her lips....

Dear Abe,

It's been long and lonely without you. Alot has changed, most of it for the best.. Some of it, like what happened to you, I'm not so sure about. Hawkeye's still playing the big leader, running around like we're supposed to follow him. The public's eating this up too, Hawkeye the Avenger leading a bunch of crooks like us. He's even got the team thinking he's the biggest thing since Vibranium! We took on 25 masters of evil, and they go thinking it's all because of Hawkeyes amazing leadership! Nevermind we're the ones who took down Zemo. Nevermind that we've always been a team. Now it feels like we're a broken family. God, let me stop....

I have something to confess.. Lately, I've been a bit resentful over your imprisonment. I know it's a choice you made for the good of the team, but sometimes on those lonely nights when I go out flying, like we used to sneak off and do, it feels like you've abandoned me. Just like all the others did. I know you never would, not really, but it feels... I feel so hurt, Abe. Let my guard down for you, felt safe with you, wanted...loved. And all that taken away, by your own decision. We could have made a run for it, leave behind all this super hero, Hawkeye crap and just hide out, me and you. But I know you wouldn't want that. You want this, maybe more than any of us T-bolts. You want to go down in history as Mach-1, not the Beetle. You want respect. As long as you want this, I'll be with you fighting for it too. But remember, if you never get that respect you long for, you'll still have me.

All my love,

Melissa

As he set away her letter, folding and placing it reverently on his desk, the ghost memory of her whisper faded away from his inner ear and left him alone in his cell once more. His Melissa, the light at the end of the tunnel. The Songbird waking him for the new day, no matter where he wake. Even locked away in a cage.

Abe glanced at the other letter. "To the Beetle with love." Another villain, perhaps jailed in Seagate like himself, was trying to bring him down again. Make him the slime Roscoe nearly convinced him he was.

He lifted the letter and turned it about in his hands. No harm in looking was there? No... As long as he still knew his place. He was Thunderbolt, a hero now.

He began the letter and heard no voices in his mind besides his own..

Dear Beetle,

My name is Jessica Bickel, I'm 15 and I've been a fan of yours for years now, saving all your clippings, your pictures and video tapping the clips of your battles against spiderman from the channel 5 news. My mother told me a long time ago that my father was a crook who blew through our town and stopped long enough to impregnate her. I found out a few years ago that you had done a robbery there, about the time that I could've been conceived! I don't really know if your my father or not, but since then I've been following your crimes, knowing one day you'd come out on top. When I picked up the morning paper and saw you and the master of evil had pulled the biggest fraud of all time I knew I'd give anything to be like you. Mach-1 was the greatest act I've ever seen, and I know you turning yourself in was just a way to get more criminals to join the Masters of Evil. Your a genius! If I ever find out who my father is, he'll be nothing like you are to me. I feel like I'm your daughter, Beetle. My biggest hope is that I really am, and that you'll train me to be powerful like you. No one would ever call the daughter of the Beetle trailer trash. I'll send more letters, I promise as long as you promise to come see one day, please! I'll help you, you can make my house a hideout. No one cares about a junky old trailer, and you could put, like, a secret base underneath. Heck, you could even use me as a hostage! Anyways.. Please, think about it. I can be useful, and no one would be more loyal than your own daughter.

Love always, Jessica

Abe Jenkins, hero, let the pages fall from his hands, replacing them with his face as he let loose bitter, angry tears. The anger wasn't directed to the young girl, she was a victim. It was aimed at himself, like a gun to end his misery only it worsened with each tear and every inescapable thought. He nearly broke his fist, driving it into the cold cement wall. He never realized how much he could damage the world in his pursuit of glory.. The guilt tore at him till he was weak, and he collapsed onto his bunk, rolled over and tried to shut the world out. The little girls letter lay on top of Melissa's, tears leaking the ink from one, onto the other...