A/N: This is a re-write/re-vamp of another story of mine, called 'Fangs & Stingers.' The original has been deleted, and there will be many changes made plot-wise.
July 24th, 2102:
Miguel O'hara, the most recent individual to don the mantle of Spider-man, was crawling along the long, narrow vent of a high-rise building. It was larger than most, which he was rather thankful for. And it was also much cleaner. It's almost as if I designed this thing, Miguel thought as he passed over a grate, like he had so many times. He was currently inside the Parker industries headquarters. It was the only corporation not owned by Alcemax, which was one of the reasons it had taken him so long to find it. Alcemax had done it's absolute best to hide the company from common knowledge. There wasn't even a sign on the outside, and it was unlisted in almost every data-centre he could get his hands on.
The only reason Miguel had even heard about it's existence was a passing comment from one of his superiors, about obtaining a special formula from them. And he knew that if Alcemax was that interested in something, then it was definitely worth his attention. The fact that it shared a name with the original Spider-man only served to perk his industries further. Perhaps there was some sort of tangible link, not that it would really help him out in the long run. After all, Peter Parker was dead, and so was everyone who ever knew him.
He stopped for a second, as he looked at his heads-up display, which showed absolutely no signs of life. That weirded him out, because he knew that as a corporation, Parker Industries should have security guards, at least. Even if they where only there to monitor the cameras. But he didn't let that stop him. No, he was to focused on his task. He continued to crawl, making his way to the top suite, where he was sure he might find some answers. He figured that by that time, his sensors would pick up at least one or two bodies.
It took him the better part of an hour to reach the top, as he was forced to stop several times and wait for security drones to go past. Normally, he could rely on his suit to hide him from those kinds of devices, but he wasn't so sure this time. It would take a lot of resources for a company to remain independent from Alcemax for so long, so clearly they where a force to be reckoned with, and could surely afford top-of-the-line security, which might be capable of picking him up. But, regardless of the obstacles, he managed to reach the end of the ventilation shaft.
Curiously, there was a rooftop access, which not many businesses had, given the risk of an intruder. Especially since there where so many buildings surrounding it that where so much taller than it was. It would have been extremely easy for him to get to this point simply by gliding down from one of them. I'll know that for next time, he thought to himself as he opened the grate, and dropped down.
Miguel was hit with the most strange sensation. He felt like he had suddenly entered a holographic simulator set to an early 2000's setting. The walls where actually covered in what looked like authentic wall-paper, save for the occasional worn-out spot. In an off-shooting room, he could see an ancient fridge and stove. In another, an antique Television set, which nowadays would cost several million dollars to find, not even considering the cost of updating the software to be compatible with modern technology. He was impressed, actually. The sheer amount of wealth all around him was astounding, and proved his theory that the owner of the company was very powerful, and would be a strong potential ally in his fight against the Mega-corperation Alcemax.
But then he saw it.
Out of everything in the entire building, this was the most spectacular. No, Miguel thought as he approached the display case. No, this is the most valuable, most precious thing in the entire city! The country, perhaps! He could hardly contain himself as he ran his hand over the glass, which shielded possibly the greatest relic of his predecessor from the world. The costume of the Original Spider-man. He was sure of it even before his sensors picked up small bits of Peter Parker's D.N.A. He quickly looked for some sort of seal which he could pop, not wanting such a relic to remain here, hidden away from the world, who had the right to see it. Eventually, he found one.
It was just to bad that something managed to grab him from behind, and throw him across the room before he could do anything. He shook his head, clearing his vision as he looked around for whoever attacked him, but could not find anything. Not even a heat-print. "Two can play this game," he muttered as he activated his camouflage, which rendered him completely invisible to the naked eye.
"No," a sharp voice replied from behind, as a foot was driven into his back, sending him tot he floor again. "You can't even hope to play this game with me," the voice continued as Miguel spun around, and delivered a powerful blow into thin air. "Miguel." He felt the blood drain from his face as he heard his name being spoken. How could this unseen attacker know his name, he had always been so careful with it! "I know a lot of things about you, Mr O'hara," the voice said in an almost casual tone, which concerned him even more. "So much, that I'm actually surprised it took you this long to find this place."
"Where are you?" Miguel snapped, as he used his suit's instruments to try and locate the attacker, "who are you?" She could ruin everything for me! If she went to Alcemax I would be done for! He paniced as he realized the full implications of what the woman could do to his life.
"That's not really important," the voice replied casually. "And no need to worry. I'm not interested in selling any information to Alcemax. If I wanted to ruin you," the voice continued as something moved to his left. "I'd do it myself," the voice said, as Miguel's suit began to power down without his consent. His heart began to race as the voice materialized into a young woman, no older than twenty-five. She had shoulder length black hair, that hid a slim, pale-skinned face. Her black body-suit clung to her skin tightly as she flashed a small device in front of his eyes.
"How did you-?" Miguel asked, dumbfounded.
"Know your name?" the woman replied with a raised eyebrow, and a slight tug on her lips. "I'll keep that to myself for a while. As for this," she said as she pocketed the device, "it's an antique by your standards. Older than that fridge, actually," she continued as she turned her back on him, which was a rather surprising move on her part. If her where in her position, he would never have done something like that. "But it still works better than anything that's on the market."
"With tech like that," Miguel said, hoping to keep her distracted long enough to figure out a way out of his prediciment, or how to beat her. "Why not sell it to the public? You could easily shut down Alce-"
"I'm not interested in selling it," the woman replied with a shrug as she turned into the Kitchen. "I've got no interest in a public life," she continued from inside the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink, Mr O'hara, I daresay you must be thirsty after the long trek through the vents."
"I-" Miguel stammered, still completely stuck on how she could possibly have known the things she was saying. "If I had known about the roof," he shot back, "I would have been here sooner. But you where expecting that, weren't you?"
"Well it was more of a test," the woman replied casually as Miguel ran his hand over a section of wall that had four long scratches cut into it. "I wanted to see ow much like him you really are. And so far, I'm impressed. He'd be trying to keep me talking as well." Shit! Was all that ran through his mind as he began to suspect that the woman might be a telepath of sorts, and was preparing a trap for him.
"I'm glad that-" Miguel began to reply.
"Yes, I am a telepath...of sorts," the woman replied as she opened the fridge door. "Not nearly as powerful as the Professor, though. And I've got drinks here, if you want them. Coffee, Red wine, White wine, Root Beer. Take you pick. I've kept hem for a special occasion like this." Miguel scratched his head, wondering why this woman was all of a sudden being so kind to him, after having the perfect chance to kill him.
"I'm not thirsty," he said simply.
"Yes you are," she replied as she returned from the kitchen, carrying two cups, one in each hand. One was a simple mug, while the other looked more like an old thermos that people in the old days used to take camping. The mug which was filled with a murky brown liquid, she handed to him. He gave it a good smell, and discovered that it was in fact, coffee. But different than what he was used to. Gone where the smells of chemicals that improved brain functions for the day. Instead, it smelled like...well like he expected it should smell. "And that is the real deal," the woman said quietly, "some of the last real coffee in this part of the world. Last I heard Wakanda still has a few fields growing. But pretty soon it's gonna be all gone." She sighed as she took a long gulp of her own drink, which for some reason, he knew wasn't the same beverage as what he had in his hands.
"What-"
"Do I want with you?" the woman replied with raised eyebrows. "Well it's very simple. I need your help, Miguel O'hara. I need you to stop something from happening in his time. In return for saving lives," she said as she indicated to the display case, containing Peter Parker's suit. "I will give you that."
"What do you need me to do?" Miguel replied, knowing that whatever this woman wanted, it was very serious. And that it was also very big, if it had tangible links to Peter Parker.
"Stop him from making a mistake," the woman replied, as she once again motioned towards the suit in the display case. "Go back in time, and stop him from making a mistake. A mistake which could kill thousands of people."
Present Day:
"Being single really fucking sucks," Peter cursed to himself as he landed on the side of a building. And that wasn't an understatement in his mind either. No, he was really feeling it this time. M.J had moved on to dating a firefighter, who was a really nice guy, in Peter's opinion. He had met the man on several occasions, and was glad that his ex-fiance had found someone like that. Carlie Cooper on the other hand...well she had just gone and dumped him out of the blue, due to his habit of having to go and save the world. Oh yeah sure babe, he muttered in his mind, I'll stop stopping bank robberies so that we can spend more quality time together having me move around furniture. A part of him was actually glad to be rid of her.
But that still didn't stop his current mindset.
He. Was. Lonely.
Every night after sixteen hours of non-stop action, he would slip into his apartment by himself. He would flick through the channels on the television he had in his bedroom before dozing off for a few hours. Then, he would wake up and go out into the world as either Peter Parker and try and earn a living, or as Spider-man and save countless lives without a dime to show for it. The money situation wouldn't be so bad, he thought to himself as he shot out a line of webbing towards an adjacent building, if I had someone to share things with. I mean- his thoughts where cut off by a beeping sound coming from his left pocket. Mid-swing, he pulled out his phone, which had a direct link to Avengers Tower.
"Thank-you for calling our after-hours hotline," Peter mused after he clicked the 'talk' button.
"We've got a report of shouts coming from south-east of your position," the voice of Steve Rogers, Captain America, said curtly as Peter landed on a nearby rooftop. "Satellites and street-cameras show that Castle's already in the vicinity. So-" IN a heartbeat, Peter understood what the Captain wanted him to do. He wanted him to stop the madman vigilante from potentially harming innocents, or killing off potential informants.
"Right, Oh Captain My Captain," Peter replied as he leaped off of the rooftop, and turned his momentum in the proper direction. He could already see several buildings which he knew would interest both criminals and Frank Castle alike. Mostly because of it's dark and decrepit nature, which was highlighted by the long shadows of the encroaching night. Peter sighed to himself slightly as he landed on the side of that very building, listening for sounds. Seconds ticked by, until he heard the distinct sound of a van veering into a parking garage. Gun-shots where ringing out from the van, almost confirming the occupant to his ears. He let out a loose sigh as he launched a strand of webbing downwards, so that it connected with the side of the van. With ease, he was able to land on it's roof, even with the Punisher doing his absolute best to push him off by veering from side to side.
"Oi!" Peter shouted as he slapped the roof, "Frank, pull over! Your Mom's on the line!" Almost on cue, the van screeched to the side, nearly tipping itself over, as two black sedans pulled up and opened their doors, producing four armed men in full body-suits, wearing helmets and all. Almost simultaneously, the door to Frank's battle-van popped open, revealing a mounted machine-gun.
"Bite this you pieces of shit!" Castle roared as he let loose a barrage of bullets, which ripped right into the men from the sedans, who fell to the ground almost instantly. Only one of them managed to get off a shot, and that one went off-target, and nearly hit Peter. He managed to doge, as six more black sedans pulled into view, followed by what looked like three armoured trucks.
"Who the hell did you piss off this time, Frank!" Peter quipped as he took cover on the other side of the van, just as bullets began to fly. Castle joined him shortly, exchanging his mounted machine gun for an R.P.G. "That had better be-"
"You really think I fucking care if it's legal?" Castle shouted back as he braced the weapon against his shoulder. "This is big, really big. And I gotta take these guys out before-"
"We arrest people," Peter replied as he pushed Castle back against the Van. "Not blow them to kingdom come!"
"Your rule, not mine!" Castle roared as he slipped out of Peter's grip, and peered around the edge of his trademark vehicle. As the bullets continued to fly, Frank let loose a single shot from the rocket-powered grenade, which slammed into the side of one of the armoured trucks. A massive fireball shot upwards, as the hail of bullets stopped for a brief second. Only one, though, as they quickly resumed. Though this time, Peter could tell that they where being flanked on either side, and he decided to leap into action, as Frank produced two sub-machine guns, one for each hand. Peter hoped that he could be fast enough to avoid more fatalities, as he crashed two heads against one another.
He rolled to the side as six bullets dove towards where he had been not a second ago, and he fired off two strings of webbing. Both hit their targets, which he whip-lashed into two more bodies as a grenade rolled into view. Fortunately, he was fast enough to web it up before it exploded, also managing to kick one of the gunmen away. However, that seemed to cost him dearly, as one of the two final assailants leaped onto his back, faster than he could have expected.
Before Peter could throw the man off, something dug into his side, hard. It felt like a knife-wound, but not nearly as deep as it should have been. Not that he was complaining, because no pain was good pain. After he managed to throw his attacker off, he took a quick glance to the side, and noted that his right side had three inch-long cuts, running parallel to his rib cage. Not enough to take him out of business, but certainly enough to sting, and require some cleaning when he got home. But more than that, he was curious about the man's speed. Must be a mutant, Peter thought with a slight shrug as he turned back towards Castle, who was in the process of firing a bullet into the head of one of the assailants.
"We don't-" he began, as fire raced up his side, stemming from the wound he had received.
"You should get that checked out," Castle huffed with indifference. "Or don't. One less cape to get in my way," he muttered as police sirens began to blare in the distance.
"I don't wear a-" Peter began to reply, before a blood-curdling scream split the early night. He took one look at the Punisher, who simply turned away, towards his van. Peter sighed with a hint of pain as he once more launched himself into the air, towards the scream. It had come from less than three blocks away, he was sure of it. It only took him mere seconds to see if he was sure.
On a high-rise was a young woman, lying face-down in a pool of blood. And one didn't have to be a genius to know that that was a bad thing. Even before he fully landed, he shot a blob of webbing towards the wound on the woman's neck. He had designed a special feature in his webbing several years ago, after an encounter with the Sinister six left him with a hole in his chest. His webbing was now infused with a special sealant, which would stop bleeding wounds within a few seconds, and deliver a powerful anti-bacterial medicine, reducing the chances of infection greatly. Of course, that was also dependant on how quickly the wound was properly treated by a professional. And since he wasn't one, he knew he had to get the woman to a hospital, and fast. He looked up, judging how far away the nearest hospital was as anew, more powerful wave of pain washed over him. Clearly, whatever weapon had been used against him had been tipped with something. Which meant that he had to get treatment himself.
And no hospital would treat him while he had his mask on. So he needed to go to someone he trusted. And the Avengers Mansion was on the other side of the city. Which only left one possible option: The Baxter Building.
Located less than three miles away from his position, the home of the fantastic four was one of New York city's modern landmarks. A popular destination for tourists, scientists and the occasional ex-girlfriend and soon-to-be ex-girlfriend of Johnny Storm. Peter had worked with the team on several occasions, even filling in for a few members more than once, when they where away on personal business. He was on better terms with them than he was with the Avengers for the longest time. Often, he would even go there for medical treatment, if he couldn't get to a hospital in time. He trusted Susan Storm, the medical side of the family.
He landed on the top entrance platform, still carrying the girl over his shoulder as he limped to the door. His every breath was beginning to burn. His whole left side felt like it was on fire. Fortunately, he didn't even have to reach the door before it swung open. Only one body exited, though. That of Sue Storm, the Invisible Woman. In the background, he heard her say something as the lights began to dim around his line of sight. He was losing consciousness, fast.
