Spider-Man was vaguely aware of what was happening around him. Between his Spider-Sense and the recent assault on his autonomy he was exhausted. He was fully aware that his attacker had tried to overrule the arachnid part of his genetics. To add insult to injury the Shocker was grinning happily even as New York's finest arrived in force.
He greeted them warmly, not expecting the courtesy to be returned in the slightest. "Good afternoon officers, may I present one bound and tied Herman 'shockingly hopeless' Schultz."
As he'd expected, the first cop to arrive drew his gun and aimed it at him. "You're under arrest, Spider-freak!" Even as he spoke, three more police cars pulled in and a half dozen officers spilled out of them, rushing to their own support positions.
"What for, chief?" Spider-Man replied, keeping his hands raised to show he was willing to co-operate, but he could still feel the low hum of his Spider-Sense registering the increasing amount of weapons being pointed at him.
The Shocker seized his chance. "He's gone crazy! First he came in all guns blazing and then after he had me all trussed up he called up all the spiders! He said he'd have them deal the death of a thousand bites if I didn't tell him what he wanted to know!"
The cop's head turned to the Shocker who had a strange expression on his face. The cop sniffed like he'd registered a bad smell but Schultz continued. "I'll cooperate. I won't resist arrest and I'll agree to a plea bargain. Just as long as you get me away from this maniac!"
"Don't believe a word of it officer, he's playing you." Spider-Man kept his tone calm and measured, but as his Spider-Sense rose in intensity he knew he'd lost here. He growled at the same time as he leapt skywards. "That's the last time I go easy on you Shocker!"
As Spider-Man vanished into the bright New York sky, the officer brought his gun to bear but cursed. Opening fire upwards meant putting innocents in danger if he missed. He sighed and re-holstered his gun. "Alright, men, take 'im in." The cop thumbed towards Schultz whilst giving the villain a suspicious look.
"The gauntlets unlock just past the wrist," The Shocker said uncharastically helpful.
"You're coming quietly…?" the arresting officer murmured. With Spider-Man gone the Shocker would have had a decent chance of escape.
"I already told you, he's gone insane. You saw what he did. As far as I'm concerned the best place for me is with you guys."
As the NYPD Code Blue vehicle pulled away from the sidewalk (and gathered onlookers) with an oddly compliant Herman 'Shocker' Schultz in the back, the villain smiled smugly. He'd settle for putting a cramp in the wall-crawler's day. Besides, it would be much less hassle to escape later.
Especially since the Kingpin owed him a big favour.
In the labyrinthine sewer system that ran under New York, two young women struggled onwards. Trudging along the slick, barely lit paths, Aisha Laborn supported her friend as much as she could. The problem she had, was that she was splitting her efforts between holding Taylor up but holding her at a distance mentally. That arduous task was made all the more difficult by Taylor in her dangerous mental state. Aisha was actively concentrating on keeping her power up, to make damned sure Khepri couldn't get a grip on her own mind.
After several minutes of further trudging she resumed speaking, trying to coax Taylor back as best she could. "Your name is Taylor Hebert and you had a team."
Taylor's voice sounded initially strained, and a touch surreal. "My name is Taylor Hebert and I had a team…"
"We were the Undersiders of Brockton Bay."
"We were the Under- Oh, of course, that's why I use sewers." Taylor's voice had a soft almost dreamlike tone but at least it was coherent for once.
Imp blinked but this seemed like good news to her. Part ot Taylor was remembering who she was, although this would be the Taylor that escalated at the drop of a hat.
Imp continued, "Close enough for now, you need to rest. We barely made it into the sewers and I have a feeling it won't be long before something comes after us. You know, business as usual…"
"That would be bad," Taylor murmured, in that same dreamlike continuing to speak that dream like tone.
"It wouldn't be too good for us either." Imp quipped, concluding that a semi conscious amnesiac Taylor working on instinct would escalate by habit alone, being chased on an unknown world which had capes of its own.
"But right now we need to find somewhere nice and quiet and out of the way - and out of this sewer, before you catch an infection."
"Follow arrows." Even before the figment of Taylor's imagination could answer, which meant she must be talking to herself, a swarm of tiny bodies either flitted or scurried under what little lighting the sewers had in the maintenance area, forming a marker. "Talking to self, but can talk, so talking to self is good thing. I is controlling swarm again but humans be missing from it. Where that power go?"
Aisha Laborn said nothing, only barely discomfited by her friend's creepy little army, but continued half carrying, half dragging her friend onwards, maintaining her own power. What she remained unaware of was that she wasn't the only one that been deflecting Khepri.
Madame Web, the woman who had taken on the task of containing Taylor's unrestrained alter ego, gasped for breath. Her face flushed from the effort of erecting the mental barrier around the same bombarded mind she had sensed earlier. If she could just wall off the part of Taylor that was 'Khepri', then there was a chance of minimising the fallout stemming from her arrival.
She meditated, letting the light of her power guide her, homing in on one oh-so-familiar aura. Spider-Man was sat on a rooftop water tower, seemingly steeped in thought. He looked, at least to her mystical senses, strained. Their fractious association had given her much insight concerning the wall crawler, and she'd worked with him on enough occasions to be able to hone that insight.
She smiled ever so slightly; he would be along shortly after she called to him, no matter how irritating he found her; or she sometimes found him.
Snapping out a web line as he felt the mental call, Spider-Man groaned. Not only had he just received the message to come to her from Madame Web, but the Daily Bugle was calling on him to explain the situation.
A few months ago he would have put it down to Jolly Jonah's grudge, but these days the Bugle was run by Robbie Robertson. To be fair Robbie was a huge improvement over his predecessor, but that didn't mean he was going to give the spandex crowd free passes either.
He muttered, "Well, first port of call is Madame Web, then the Daily Bugle, after that the Avengers and after that, with the way my luck works, the Great Lakes whatever they're called this week… and I'm talking to myself again. Great."
Taylor was sleeping, having somehow found an unoccupied utility room to hide in. The reason she had found it was currently watching her like a hawk, using what little first aid equipment she could find to tend her friend's multiple injuries.
Okay," Imp muttered, "We need supplies, information and as soon as we can, showers and a proper hideout."
"I think we need to talk." The electronically filtered tones of the armoured Avenger known as Iron Man broke Spider-Man out of his reverie, as he swung between two buildings.
"I'm a little busy heading to Madame Web, probably for the same reason you want to talk to me. Can we make this quick?"
"How about I give you a lift and you tell me as much as you can on the way?" Iron man just hovered there for a moment. The man was well known for his self righteous attitude.
Spider-Man consider ignoring him but that would be more trouble than it was worth" That's a good idea, just don't try to enter when we get there."
"Oh?"
"It's a one on one issue and, well, let's face it - you and magic just don't go well together. Heck, not too long ago you and other heroes didn't go too well together."
"Thanks for reminding me, webs. It's not like I have people reminding me of that every five minutes."
"Any time shellhead but stay outside. If the sprinklers are on, you could rust." Spider-Man flipped up and around as he spoke, coming to a perfectly timed halt on Iron Man's back, "And hey, it's down to every five minutes. Things are looking up, it used to be every four and a half!"
"So, you're going to remind me again in four and a half minutes?
"Yeah, well, those of us who got chased around by SHIELD know how forgetful you can be Tony."
"Fine. But let's concentrate on the present. What can you tell me about this new guy?"
"Not much. I was a bit busy trying to keep her out of my head."
"So, it's a her, and she can get into people's heads. Sure you didn't piss Wanda off… again?"
"Pissing people off is your job."
"There you go then, you should leave it to the professionals. Now, to business… it sounds to me like we're dealing with a telepath." Iron Man paused. "And she can either control bugs or you've been holding out."
"I've not been holding out; This time. "
The tension between the two had eased, but after the debacle of The Superhuman Registration Act, followed by major public figures being revealed as having shot the Incredible Hulk into space, only to have him return even angrier than usual, things were still tense.
For all his ego, Iron Man was no fool. As he touched down on the building Spider-Man indicated, the genius engineer was revisiting old contingencies he had devised in the event of Ant-Man going rogue. He looked at Spider-Man and said simply, "I'll see you back at Stark Tower."
"Got it." Spider-Man got the hint that if he didn't turn up at the ostentatious tower later, Iron Man wouldn't be so accomodating the next time they met. He turned and headed to meet someone who he considered so damned cryptic she made Doctor Strange seem straightforward.
The Daily Bugle was buzzing with activity as its staff hurried around, striving as always to get the afternoon edition out on time.
The stern yet not unfriendly voice of Robbie Robertson carried easily over the general office hubbub, honed from years of practice. "Betty, you're on incoming calls for this. And see if-"
"- I can try and get get hold of Peter." Betty Brant finished for him, earning her a quick smile from Robbie.
Robbie turned, issuing orders to the rest of his people. He watched them. pausing once to quietly reprimand an intern that was carrying more papers than she could see over. Robbie hoped that being reprimanded by the very same person she'd almost collided with, would be enough embarrassment for the young woman.
From the way her face flushed, he was reasonably sure that the lesson would take. Patting her on the shoulder and switching from a frown to an avuncular whispered. "I was there once too." He saw her relax slightly, nodding briefly. "But remember."
As the blue haired intern departed, her ponytail swishing slightly as she did so, Robbie stepped into the editor's -his- office, closing the door behind him
He sat in front of his PC, and pressed play on the paused video message that Ben Urich had emailed from the scene.. That footage was now the main reason the Daily Bugle's headline read. "Spider-Man: Talk to Us."
Robbie had acted fast, taking the most neutral approach he could, but each time he saw the strange newcomer in the insectoid armour, he frowned. He rewound the footage again, staring intently at it, and smiled as he finally realised what he'd been missing.
Urich's snort of amusement when Robbie had phoned him asking what he thought about this new 'Bug Guy' made much more sense now. Robbie rewound the footage, looking for anything else he may have missed. As the figure turned he could see long dark wavy hair and now he knew what he'd been subconsciously looking for; hips.
Knowing Urich, he probably realised the moment he saw her. Lucky for me that I get to hand him the assignment. I just hope Spider-Man's in a talkative-
Robbie stopped, and could only smile at the idea of the hero not being in a talkative mood. The smile vanished a moment later, though, when Robbie reminded himself of what it meant when the hero stopped talking.
Spider-Man made his way through the deceptive corridors. Madame Web had a list of people she would interact with, and it was a short one. Spider-Man knew it included more than two names, but was nonetheless only really aware of himself and Doctor Strange being on it.
He took a few more steps before halting as his Spider-Sense began to tingle. He had a suspicion that he still would have known something was wrong without it. His fears were confirmed when he found Madame Webb sprawled on the floor, her dark brown hair slick with sweat.
He blinked. He remembered her as an old woman, even more physically fragile than his own aunt May. He moved his mask so his mouth was clear as he knelt down next to her.
"Madame Web, what happened?"
"Spider-Man?" Her voice was dry, "Good, you made it. I need you to listen very carefully."
As he assisted her into the nearest chair, passing her a glass of water that she drank immediately, he said, "You look better. Figuratively speaking."
She nodded. "Ah,the riddle of my seemingly restored youth and health. It is a long story and not currently relevant. Also, we have little time."
Spider-Man's eyes narrowed behind his mask at her words and he jabbed a finger in the clairvoyant's direction. "Every time. Every damn time, always hiding things from me. If I didn't think you knew more about this than you're letting on, I'd let you rot!"
The enigmatic precog didn't answer for a moment, then let out a heavy breath. "I was too busy fighting something better left to the likes of Charles Xavier or Stephen Strange."
"Then why didn't you?"
"Because if they had they lost, Peter, we all would have. I barely survived and my opponent wasn't anywhere near full strength. If you'd felt any of it…"
Spider-Man leaned on a wall, thinking. "I'm pretty sure that I have."
Madame Webb looked at him again and held out her hand. "It may help to compare experiences. Will you join me?"
Spider-Man looked at her sceptically and asked sourly, "Do I really have a choice?"
"You always have a choice."
"And with you I'm pretty sure it's always going to be the wrong one." He took hold of her hand anyway, surprising the precog with how gently he did so.
