A lone figure sat perched on top of the Chrysler Building. It was nighttime in New York and it was raining. It was one of the heaviest rain the city had ever seen. Drops after drops of water pelted the figure. The falling water ricocheted off his body in miniature showers.

The figure stared at the city of New York below him. The night hid him, giving him an appearance of a shadow with two big white lenses where his eyes were supposed to be, giving the figure a look of eeriness and sinister.

A bright light shone red hot into the skies, illuminating the person for just a split-second. In the slipping grasps of the time, the figure was no longer strange nor terrible to behold. It was New York's protector, Spider-Man.

He was red and blue while black webs adorned them. The black spider which spun the webs was perched at the center of the web, the strands meeting catching up to it on his chest.

The second ended and so did the light. Spider-Man returned back to a phantom in the night.

A terrible thunder soon followed the trail of the lightning. The sound was loud and reverberated inside Spider-Man's chest, yet he remained unmoved. He knew he was in no danger.

Spider-Man stood up. He closed his eyes and breathed through his mouth. He was used to it by now, breathing through a mask. He thought when he was starting out, he used to fear he would suffocate. He had to take breaks, put up his mask and get oxygen, unfiltered. But now he had adapted to the fabric. Like a second skin, sometimes, he didn't even know he was wearing a mask. Sometimes, Peter Parker pulled his cheek in public, as if to adjust the elastic veil wrapping his entire head. It was like a second skin. Being Spider-Man had become normal. Too normal.

He listened to the pitter-patter of the rain while surrounded by darkness. He closed his eyes and stood up, stretching his arms wide.

"Here we go," Spider-Man said.

He let his body fall forwards into the city below.

Spider-Man fell and soon he was lateral, his front faced the gloomy and raining sky, while the spider insignia on his back greeted the streets far below it.

The rain drops were still tapping at his face. He felt them hit, their sound entered into his ears, but his eyes remained closed. His body started accelerating downwards and little by little, the drops stopped hitting.

Peter did a quick calculation in his head.

Initial speed is zero. Final speed, freefall, is 53 meters per second. Acceleration, 9.8 meters per second per second. …Will get there in 5.4 seconds. Height of fallen like a rock, 143 meters. Meh, I can make it.

Three seconds had already passed. On the fourth second, the drops were struggling to touch him. On the fifth second, the drops gave up.

Spider-Man felt the blare of the wind at the sides of his face. His heart pounded in his chest. The adrenaline rushed to his muscles in assist.

Any time now, Spider-Man thought, the rain still clear in his ears. Feels like classic music.

Then, a fast tingling sensation came. It started at the back of his neck, warning him of the danger of falling down on the ground. Time for action.

Guided by the sensation, without a peek, Spider-Man shot a web-line in the dark. He didn't hear it stick and the line remained lax in his hand. He didn't shoot another.

He kept falling and falling. Spider-Man now was able to hear the horns of the vehicles on the street. No matter what, this noise never stopped. Soon, he would hit the ground.

Just then, the line web in his hand went taut.

His trajectory curved. He started to swing in an arc. Another fast tingle, now stronger, scratched his head. He knew it meant he still was going to hit the ground.

Spider-Man pulled on the web-line. He felt the web tense under the weight and force of his body, but it was strong and held without breaking. The force of his pull was enough for him to rise a couple height up in a backward somersault. He opened his eyes, and there the ground was, maybe the height of a car away from his face. The rain had started pelting him again.

"I think I made a new record," Spider-Man smiled under his mask. "Spider-sense, good job again today. See you at work tomorrow."

Adjusting himself, Spider-Man let of the web-line go. It zipped away like stretched rubber. At the peak of his leap, he shot another and pulled, this time properly in his signature swinging style.

"New York," said Spider-Man, his voice sounding muffled in the rain. "It looks beautiful even when it is in a downpour. Never change—except for the better, of course."

New York was glowing with its own lights. Cars and taxis still moved along their daily business. People went to their ways, under umbrellas, under raincoats, some without, running to find shelter from the rain.

"Don't slip and fall," Spider-Man said to himself as buildings passed him by.

Even in such conditions, there were some people who saw him as if floating up and down the air, the pale white web-lines almost invisible in the low lights in the sky. They waved at him, both the kids and the adults, with smiles. He waved back with a smile under his mask. Peter felt nice being waved at, to be trusted.

Another citizen looked at him and this time, Spider-Man waved, swinging on his left arm. She gave him the middle finger.

Taken aback and embarrassed, Spider-Man swung away making a sharp left to another block.

"Ok, this is why gruff and no-nonsense superheroes are said to cooler," Spider-Man said and sighed. "Still you can't be annoyed with me if you didn't bring a coat with you. I am just trying to be friendly, you know."

Just then, his spider-sense started working again. It was unlike before though. While before, it was quick, telling him of the danger of being a red and blue paintwork on the ground, but now it was soft, like an annoying itch. It said danger was nearby, but not lethal at the moment.

Spider-Man redirected himself to a nearby building and stuck to the side of a wall upside down.

"I hate when this happens," Spider-Man said in a quiet voice. "Now my neck itches and I am wearing gloves. A threat is close, yet I don't know where it is."

Peter didn't like this about his spider-sense. It told him of danger, but never the direction of the danger. He thanked God for keeping him alive in his early career before his reflexes had been attuned to it. Before he was amateurish, jumping away in a supposed safe location, only to be zapped by Electro, or caught by Rhino to be used as a shake toy.

"Not one of my 'amazing' moments…"

Spider-Man could see no foul play down the street so he ran up the building to the roof. The roof was empty too, except old cigarettes butts and syringes lying around.

Sometimes, it just makes you question.

He scanned the city with narrowed eyes. The rain made it difficult. The buzzing was still present in his head, but he could not pinpoint the source. His mind was not thinking of good things.

Spider-Man gave a grunt of desperation as he ran and jumped over to another building after another; his eyes darting everywhere, his ears trying to pick up anything.

"Stupid, stupid rain. I can't see, I can't hear, and I don't have super smell, even if it won't do me any favors," Spider-Man said to himself, his spider-sense still ringing in the same soft tone. "And why spider-sense? Why can't you be like 'Hot and Cold'? Why surrounding danger and imminent ones only?"

As if to answer his question, Peter's spider-sense started to ring aloud. Spider-Man was standing confused on the edge of the eighth building. He jumped and shot a web-line in reflex to the next building, landing on the wall. Behind him, he heard the sound of something sharp tear the concrete behind him. "Not the answer I wanted!"

When he looked behind him, there was nobody. However, there were two jagged lines on the place where he was standing a moment ago.

Claws, Spider-Man thought. Going for my legs, eh. I think my torso's way more handsome. Not an invitation though.

Spider-Man crawled up to the roof. He balanced himself on the edge and pushed himself flying to the center, landing in a quiet perch on the wet floor.

"Alright, villain of the day with leg fetish, I am here."

Spider-Man concentrated in his surroundings. Any other person was a sitting duck in the open, but not him.

Spider-sense! From the back!

Spider-Man made an about turn and saw the silhouette charging at him. Like a gunslinger, he quickly shot two web pellets at the slender figure.

A girl? Now, what did I do this time?

The web pellets hit the person, one on the shoulder and one right on the face, making her stagger.

Spider-Man groaned, trying to imagine the pain. "Okay, that made me cringe myself."

Spider-Man's web-shooters were designed to shoot small hardened web balls to give him some range combat techniques. It was too much of a hassle to be going in hand-to-hand combat with the likes of Shocker, Sandman, and his favorite buddy to do close fights with, Electro. Hence, the upgrade.

While web pellets worked, they worked a little too well. The web-pellets were dispensed at high-speed and they were hard like rocks.

Spider-Man had broken a pursesnatcher's nose while testing it out. He was horrified when he saw the blood.

Peter had tried to fix the issue, but it was not so simple.

On one hand, he could decrease the velocity of the pellets, but that would mean he needed to decrease the pressure of the web-fluid. He wouldn't be able to throw a farther web-line, and his web spray would be would just trickle down.

Another way to change the composition of the web fluid which already sounded stupid to Peter. If he changed it to make softer pellets, his web-lines would snap under the weight they were performing now.

Peter did think of using different cartridges—one to store his original one, and the other with the lower pressured web-pellets. He called his original, web cartridges and the new ones, 'web magazines'. He was actually proud of the naming.

But again, changing the cartridges, mid-flight, was a hassle. He needed to swing too. One arm was not enough. The last one was an automatic cartridge changing shooter, but he was poor.

Plus having multiple cartridges is quite distracting. I will leave the technical gadgetry to Tony Stark, thank you very much.

The girl stared at Spider-Man and Spider-Man noticed two long claws protruding from hands.

Oh, I missed that. Thank god, I missed that.

The girl growled, and unlike a human's, the growl sounded closer to a feral beast. Her wet hair stuck to her face. She took a stance and was ready to pounce.

Spider-Man gulped. "Parley?"

She closed the distance faster than Peter expected. Spider-Man was sure she must be a meta-human. Nobody could move so fast.

The girl went for an upward right slash with her left claws but Spider-Man caught her hand with little effort. Before she could retaliate, he grabbed her right hand by the wrist, the claws still out. "Alright, enough with the shish-kababbing."

She tried to tear her hands away, but Spider-Man was too strong. When she could not get out of his inhuman grip, the girl tried to perform a diagonal upward kick to him which was easily dodged. When the leg reached its arc's peak, Spider-Man was ready to finish it.

A nice leg sweep and I will web her—spider-sense!

The tingling was now screaming. Spider-Man bended his body backward far greater than a contortionist. He stared, mouth agape at the descending leg which now had a long sharp claw coming out of her boot. It sliced the air where his head was at a moment before.

Spider-Man had enough. This person was no joke. She was dangerous and it meant she needed to be stopped. Spider-Man let her hands go and somersaulted away. Getting close was madness.

Both stared at each other. Spider-Man was now wary of her and felt she was doing the same, thinking of making the next move. Something made him think she was not expecting him to be so strong. Was it a misunderstanding? Was it somebody else she was trying to kill?

The rain was still pouring. Peter had nearly forgotten about the rain.

"Alright," Spider-Man said in a gentle tone. "It seems we have not met in the best of terms. I mean no harm to anybody so why are you trying to kill me?"

The girl didn't answer. She looked at him without blinking. Spider-Man felt a strange feeling, like he had seen her before, but hadn't seen her before. He didn't the time to think it through though.

"Hm, Wilson Fisk? Tombstone? Did any enemy of mine send you to off me?"

A dark pallor went over the girl's face. It was gone as soon as it came, replaced by a look of such unbridled anger, Peter found himself feeling intense fear.

There was another thunder and Spider-Man was able to properly see her. Her face was twisted in anger.

"Shut up!" the girl said. Her voice came clear to Peter even in the rain. She ran at him again and Spider-Man readied himself.

Come on, Parker. You have taken stronger and deadlier.

The girl jumped at him. Spider-Man shot more web-but, but she cut through them, forcing him to dodge. "Wow, those nails are sharp, miss! Ever thought of having polished? Red might suit you."

The girl answered by swiping her claws at him. Spider-Man bend to the ground as the claw slashed above, but he had no time to relax for her foot claw near found his left eye. Quick as a spider, he crawled underneath her legs, missing the arc of the long blade. The girl had a look of revulsion on her face and Spider-Man could not blame her. Few times he was caught on video, and it made Peter's skin crawl at the movements he himself was performing sometimes. I still can't believe my back didn't break one time.

Finding himself behind the girl, he didn't give her the time to recover. He shot a web-line at her back and tried to swing her to the roof entrance wall, where he could web her hands and feet. But, as he applied the necessary force to match the weight of the girl, he found there was nobody. The web-line was cut by the girl in less than a second.

Spider-sense flared in Peter's head. He craned his neck almost ninety degrees as the two long knives nearly spilled his brains. He twisted his body for a punch, but his hand was caught and Peter soon found himself airborne, the floor approaching. Using only the fingertips of one hand, he performed a smooth handstand as he kept track of the girl.

"Impressive throw, I must say," Spider-Man said, putting himself in a perch and giving a thumbs up. "So, you are trained in the art of throwing innocent people around."

The girl growled. "Stop talking."

"Stop attacking," Spider-Man countered.

Her face scrunched. She ran at him, claws on the ready. Spider-Man rolled his eyes. Here we go again. "Come at me, bro."

Spider-Man dashed a few steps and jumped over her, aiming his wrists upon her. He was ready to empty his shooters if required.

"Both of you enough!" a sudden voice called.

Spider-Man stopped himself while landed away from the girl. She had stopped too at hearing the voice too.

Spider-Man looked towards the sound, finding the voice familiar to him. He saw a figure standing on the roof of another building, clad in a brown coat and faded jeans. The man was unmistakable. Only one person had such weird hair.

"Logan," Spider-Man called out in suspicion.

The figure cocked his head towards Spider-Man. "Yeah, that's me, webhead,"—the man made a gesture to the girl in black—"and the girl you have been annoying is my daughter."

Peter's eyes widened behind his lenses. He looked at the girl, then back at Wolverine. He looked back at the girl and then back at Wolverine. He again looked back at the girl, then—

"You are dragging the joke way too far," Logan deadpanned.

"I, I am confused," Spider-Man said scratching his cheek. "I mean now I know why she seemed so familiar to me, but what—"

Spider-sense!

"Laura! Don't!" Logan's shout was clear. "He's not the one."

The girl, now known as Laura, was trying to creep up to him for a strike. She made a face showing her disdain but sheathed her claws nonetheless.

Spider-Man just looked at Logan. "What is up with her?"

"She's got some issues," Logan sighed.

"She likes Captain America comics too?" Spider-Man said.

"Like you haven't had a shit ton of issues yourself."

"Are we still talking about the comics?"

"You tell me."

"No, I ask the questions, Wolvie. Why was she trying to kill me?"

"Spider-Man, let us get some place a little less wet first."

Spider-Man looked at Logan and then at Laura. Both seemed to be drenched. It made him feel sorry for them, a little bit less for Laura, but still sorry.

"I know a place we can use," Spider-Man said, finally relaxing his stance.

To Be Continued

A/N: This story was meant to be a one-shot but I found it was too long. Therefore, I have decided to cut it in three chapters which I think works better. Chapter two will be up very soon.