He looked up, at the night sky. It was so beautiful that he couldn't properly describe it with words. Every star shone brightly, as if each was trying to outdo the rest. He'd forgotten what it was like to look up at the sky, as it had been so long since he had had the chance. Now he wished that it would never end. There where to many imperfect nights in his life. He needed this one for himself. He reached behind his head, using both hands as an improvised cushion. Both hands. That's when he realized what was wrong.
He sat up and stared. Both limbs looked completely identical. He curled his left hand's fingers inwards, in near disbelief at the sight of the peach-coloured flesh. It defied all possible logic, yet it had happened. And he was happy and angry at the same time. Angry at himself for not thinking of using the symbiote as a solution. And angry at the world for not giving him the opportunity to realize his oversight.
Time to get back to work, he thought as he imagined the black suit he had once worn. He had no further use for the red and blue spandex. I need to be a better Spider-man than Octavious could ever dream of being, he rationed as he got to his feet, allowing his body to be covered in the slimy substance. This suit can give me the edge I need. He thought as he flexed his powerful muscles.
He took a ginger step forward. Then another. Then another. With each step he increased the tempo, pumping his legs into a run. As he reached the edge of the roof, he pushed off with his legs, leaping high into the air, over the street. Cars whizzed by below as he lashed out with a hand, allowing for a string of black substance to spring forth from his wrist. He cried out in jubilation as the thin rope-like material latched itself to a nearby skyscraper, allowing him to swing for the first time in months. The sensation was indescribable in his mind. He could feel the wind rush against his skin through the symbiotic layer. He let go of the black webbing as he landed on the side of a building with the grace of a dancer. Almost as if on cue, a scream broke out through the night air.
He leaped towards the sound with extreme speed, swinging from the black strings as he did so. He rounded the side of a building and dived into a free-fall. He let his momentum carry his body all the way to the source of the sound. As was normal for New York, a young man was surrounded by a small crowd. Each and every member of which was carrying either a knife of a gun. Let's see Ock handle this, Peter thought with a snide smirk as he leaped down, right in front of the crowd, standing between them and their intended victim.
"Aw shit man!" someone shouted to Peter's left, "it's the Spider!"
"He's looking awefu-" a second man began, only to be cut off by Peter driving his foot into the man's stomach, sending him flying. Two more burst forward, and he made short work of them, snapping the knife-arm of the first and shattering the other's kneecap. His Spider-sense blared, telling him to lean to the side, out of the way of an incoming bullet. Which he did, striking a woman's jaw as he came up.
"Fuck man!" someone spat as bullets peppered around him, "I'm getting the hell outta here!" The remaining eleven thugs broke ranks and sprinted for their cars. Peter managed to catch three of them with a combination of his fists and his webbing. He pounded one of the downed thugs with his foot, breaking the man's leg as he heard the screech of tires.
Acting quickly, Peter launched himself into the air and prepared to give chase. This was going to be a fun night. He raced after one of the cars at top speed, catching up with them in no time. He sung and landed on the roof of the vehicle with ease. With one hand, he struck the glass, breaking it and pulling it free as the car began to spin out of control. He jumped off before it struck a light-post, completely destroying the front end of the vehicle. A man stumbled out of the back seat, holding a gun to the side lazily, obviously in pain.
"Bitch I'm gonna fuc-" he began, only to have Peter slam his fist into his jaw, breaking it and knocking the man out cold.
"Twenty of you," Peter spat as he kicked the man's side before crossing the distance towards the wreaked car. "Took me four and a half minutes. And that's with you trying to escape. Pathetic." He snarled as he pulled the other two men out of the car and tossed them onto the ground mercilessly.
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"Ppfftt!" she gasped as she pressed upwards with the bar, which was made out of adamantium, in order to accommodate unnatural amounts of weight. And although she was no scientist, she was sure fifty tonnes counted as unnatural. "Sixty-five..." she gasped as she brought the bar down once more. She found herself unable to sleep for the seventh time in weeks. She didn't fully understand why, either. The last time she had found herself in a similar situation was during the registration act crisis, after she had been forced to arrest Julia Carpenter in front of her daughter. That particular day had certainly taken it's toll on her, and she could empathize with Peter Parker's refusal to go along with the regiment to a certain degree.
"Sixty-six..." she muttered as she pushed the bar up and down, still doing her best to clear her head of the million thoughts going through it at that time. That's why she was there. She always found a good workout to be very therapeutic. Stark would build things, Janet would design a new suit, Steve would read. "Sixty-seven..." She huffed. Jess would go for a walk. Thor would challenge someone to a arm wrestle...Jen would take him up on the offer. Parker would...probably be right here beside me shooting his mouth off then pleading for me not to use him as target practice...Sixty-eight...
"Trouble sleeping, Colonel?" the ever-familiar voice of Edwin Jarvis said as Carol reached her sixty-ninth repetition. She set the bar down before turning to look at the ageing man, who was dressed in a housecoat, and bearing a small tray of drinks in his hands.
"I didn't mean to wake you," Carol apologized as she spun around on the bench, bringing her sweatpants-clad legs to bear. She also wiped the glistening sweat from her brow as she got to her feet. "I'm-"
"No need, Colonel," Jarvis said with a warm smile across his face. "I usually partake in an evening stroll around the mansion before turning in. I find that it's good for both the mind and body. Tea?" He finished as he presented her with the tray.
"No thanks," she replied with a wave of her hand. "I just need to unwind before turning in. That's all. And don't call me Colonel. It's weird."
"Well," Jarvis replied somewhat stiffly. "I'm afraid you may not be turning in as early as you hoped. There has been a string of assaults right across the city. They started about ten hours ago. All suspected to be by the same man."
"Shouldn't the police get on it, then?" Carol said briskly.
"The first incident involves a man beating six thugs senseless in Hell's Kitchen," Jarvis said with learned poise.
"And?" Carol scoffed slightly as she turned her head, "hardly cause for us to go in and-"
"I know," Jarvis said as h placed a hand on her knee, "But I already sent Captain Rogers to investigate."
"Why-" Carol Began to say, only to be cut off.
"Did I mention that the man in Hell's Kitchen had only one arm?" Jarvis cut in, his smile returning to a certain degree. "I thought you might want to know." Without a word, Carol got to her feet and headed for the door. She wound down the dark halls of the Avengers Mansion at a quick pace, not even bothering to change her outfit as she reached the helicopter pad that jutted out from the side. The wind ripped at her hair as she took off into the night sky.
The Avengers had been sure to keep tabs on all super-powered residents of New York, and for some reason Peter Parker's newest address stuck out in her mind as she raced towards the barren section of the city. At the speed of sound, she reached his address extremely quickly.
The outer door that led to the apartments was guarded by a card swipe lock. Luckily, Tony Stark had implemented a code which would allow all Avengers ID cards to open any of these locks. So one quick swipe and she was in. Apartment 46, she thought as she walked down the dirt-covered halls, noting the combined smells of urine, marijuana and mould. She ascended a staircase that led to the second floor rather rapidly, opening the set of doors, only to reveal that she was not alone in her search for Peter Parker. In the hall, outside Apartment 46, stood the redheaded woman Carol remembered from Spider-Island, Mary-Jane.
"Come on Peter," Mary-Jane pleaded as she rapped her knuckles against the wooden door. "Open up please? Peter please? You're scaring me, I-"
"He's not answering, is he?" Carol asked as she approached.
"No. I've been here for five minutes and the door is locked," Mary-Jane said with pleading in her voice. "Someone at my club said they spotted Sp...him earlier today. I'm worried he's gonna hurt himself." She continued as Carol moved to the door and gripped the handle. "It won't open. I already tried to jimmy it open."
"Well I haven't tried," Carol replied as she gave a gentle push, snapping the bolt and chain with one simple movement. The door swung open with ease, revealing a dark room, which smelled much like the hallway.
"Oh god..." Mary-Jane said as the two of them crossed the threshold. There was no furniture aside from a small table and a single chair in the living room. The carpet was ripped and stained. The ceiling showed clear signs of poor upkeep and the person who had painted the walls had done a poor job. "I asked him if he wanted to move in with me...why didn't he?" she continued as Carol entered the bedroom. She cringed at the sight of a phone embedded in the wall. It had obviously been thrown in a fit of anger.
"Because he hates everyone," Carol said, recalling how he had refused to talk with anyone. "He's refused contact. He's slammed doors in our faces," she said as she regretted not trying to visit him herself. He would have been here every day if the roles where reversed, she thought with a pang. "He's not here," she finished.
"Then where could he be?" the redhead pleaded, "he wouldn't...couldn't go out and-" she was cut off by Carol's ID card beeping. She pulled it out, allowing for the miniaturized AI which Stark had implemented in each card's system to pop up. Since it's first appearance, the AI had taken a female form, and the name 'Michelle.' She was dressed in military combat gear, holding a rifle across her chest as she looked up at Carol directly.
"Captain Marvel," Michelle said with a sharp salute. "Urgent message from headquarters. Captain America has engaged the enemy and requires immediate backup. He is currently located at the corner of Broadway st and Bathurst st, Sir!"
"You can't go!" Mary-Jane said desperately as she gripped Carol's arm. "He's still out th-"
"Captain America went looking for him on the streets," Carol replied, "If he's anywhere, that's where he'll be."
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"The fuck m-" the thug shouted as Peter drove his fist into the man's mouth. The man fell backwards, out cold. He fell on a pile of his friends, who all sported serious injuries.
"Stay the hell outta Queens!" Peter shouted as he kicked another thug away. He'd been stopping drug deals and muggings for the past eleven hours, and had no intention of slowing down. I'll show him, Peter fumed internally, I'll show them all!
He struck out with his fist, crashing it into a man's larynx as sirens wailed in the distance, signalling that he should leave. He ascended the wall rapidly, careful not to draw any attention to himself. Unfortunately, someone was waiting for him.
"Captain," Peter spat as the low roll of thunder cackled over the city.
"Spider-man," Captain America said coolly, "what do you think you're doing, son?"
"My job," Peter shot back as his hands clenched into tight fists.
"That's the past," Captain America replied softly as he took a step forwards. "I understand what you're going through, son," he continued as he stuck his hand out in friendship. "Let me help you. Let us help you."
"I don't need your help," Peter spat, "not now at least. Not anymore."
"Look," the Captain said with force, "I appreciate what you've done. We all do. The city owes you it's soul. But you can't save the world. Not anymore, not like you used to. But you can help us in a l-"
"nnnggg-aahhh!" Peter shouted as he thrust his foot outwards, into Captain America's stomach. The force and ferocity of the blow caught the first Avenger off-guard and sent him flying into an air vent.
"You are so smug," he shouted as he thrust his finger towards the Captain, who was still dazed from the blow. "You know that? You think that I can't survive without the mighty and powerful Avengers at my side, huh?" He shouted as Captain America got to his feet. "Well I've got newsflash for you. I'm just fine without you!"
"This qualifiesas fine?" Captain America replied hoarsely as he gestured with his hand. "Beating the living shit out of random punks on the street? Throwing yourself in harms way without telling the people you care about most? What where you thinking!"
"Don't push it Cap," Peter growled as he began to pace the length of the roof. "You can't abandon me like you did, then expect me to fall in line again," he panted aggressively, "like a good little soldier. I'm calling my own shots now. Get used to it."
"So you'll just give all this up?" Captain America snapped as he mirrored Peter's pacing. Soon they began to circle one another, like wolves over territory. "You'll turn your back on me? On Stark? On Carol?"
"You leave her out of this," Peter half-roared as they continued to circle. "Don't push your own failures onto someone else. You and Stark are the ones who failed me."
"Look," Captain America said sternly as rain began to pelt the two of them and the roof. "Just come with me now back to the Mansion. We can sort this all out."
"I have sorted it out," Peter snapped as he assumed a fighting stance. "And I'm about to deal with the problem."
"Don't make me do this," Captain America replied as he brought his shield to bear.
"I'm done taking orders," Peter replied stiffly. He tensed his muscles seconds before bursting forward, trying to run the Captain over with his body. He was too slow though, as he struck the vibranium shield instead of soft flesh and was thrown to the side. He rolled to his feet as lightning flashed overhead. Glancing to his left, Peter took note of a sheet of metal lying propped against the wall. Using his webbing, Peter snatched the metal and sent it flying towards the Captain, who used his shield to block. But that blow was never meant to hit, instead distract him long enough for Peter to slip behind his guard and deliver a snap-kick to his kidneys.
Captain America swept his shield around in retaliation, almost to quickly for Peter to dodge, forcing him back and opening him up for an uppercut to the jaw. The blow was only a glancing one, and Peter was able to retaliate with a sharp cross that clipped the shield. He followed up the strike with a kick that sent the patriotic Avenger back several feet.
Peter used this opportunity to burst forwards once again, only this time leaping into the air and kicking out. He struck the shield again, simultaneous with the boom of thunder that echoed throughout the city. Something struck his thigh and sent him to the ground. He rolled to the side, out of the way of a fist that was driven downwards.
Acting fast, Peter swept Captain America's leg out from underneath his body, sending him crashing down onto the gravel roof before bringing his own fist down on the Captain and rolling away.
"I don't know what you're trying to prove by doing this, Peter," Captain America coughed as he stumbled to his feet. "I really don't."
"That's the Avengers for you," Peter snapped as he grabbed the man's shield arm. "Clueless!" he snapped as he used his free arm to toss the shield away. "As ever," he snarled as he threw the avenger into a tight arm-lock.
"I'm trying to hrraackk!" He screamed as Peter pushed down until he heard the snap of bone being crushed. Smiling underneath the symbiote, Peter pushed him away, sending him sprawling onto the ground.
"Try," Peter bellowed as he raced forwards and struck the man who he had once respected and idolized. "That's all you Avengers do. Try try try and try again. Sometimes-" he roared as he drove his foot into the Captain's abdomen again, "you people just need to be put in your place!"
"You know..." Captain America said as blood drooled out of the side of his mouth. "You sound a hell of a lot like Octavious right now."
"Don't talk to me about OCTAVIOUS!" Peter roared as he grabbed him by the collar, "This is much his fault as it is yours!" Peter cried out as he struck Captain America in the face. Once. Twice. Three times. Four, each blow caking his left fist in the Avenger's blood. He let go with the fifth blow, causing the beaten man to fall. But Peter didn't stop there. He pinned the man underneath him as he continued to mercilessly strike.
"Wha...the Spider-...an I know..." Captain America coughed between blows.
"The Spider-man you know is dead!" Peter roared as he drove his fist down again. "And you had him killed! But now, I'm better off than ever before!" He bellowed as he struck again. "I'm the better Spider-man!" he snarled as he gripped Captain America by the throat, "I am the superi-" He stopped the words right on his tongue. What...what am I...? where the words running through his mind as he looked at the scene in front of him. Tears formed in his eyes as he realized what he had been about to do, what he had nearly done. He slowly got to his feet before breaking into a brisk run, more to be away from himself than anything.
A/N: Well now that they've begun to sort through their issues, hopefully things will get a little easier.
Now, my question for you is: What do you think of me giving each Avenger their own artificial intelligence?
