Part III of What is Left Behind
Peter knocked on the door to the Connors' lab later that night. It was their young son, Billy, who opened the door after a moment.
"Uh, hey." Peter said.
"Hi." Billy responded. He was a small boy, no older than ten. He looked like a miniature version of his father.
"Is your dad here?"
"Yeah." Billy turned out of the doorway and allowed Peter to enter the lab. Doctor Connors and his wife were staring, entranced, at the screen of a computer. The both looked up as Peter approached.
"Peter, good to see you," Doctor Connors said. "Billy, why don't you go into the classroom and read your book?"
"Okay." The quiet boy shuffled his feet out of the room.
"So, what are these ideas of yours," Peter asked once Billy was gone. "I already told you, I'm not giving up Spider-Man."
Doctor Connors held up his hands defensively.
"We aren't suggesting that, what we have in mind is some improvements to your gear."
Martha unplugged a small black device from the computer and held it out to Peter.
"What's this?" Peter asked, taking it.
"That is a small radio. Press that button on the top to turn it on."
Turning it on unleashed a wave of static that buzzed softly.
"It's tuned to the police radio, when there is an emergency you'll be one of the first to hear."
"Alright," Peter nodded in a appreciation. He slipped the radio in his back pack. "What else do you got?"
Curt Connors crossed to his work bench.
"Since you've been utilizing my Bio-Cables, I assumed you've created some type of firing mechanism. Do you mind if I take a look at them?"
Peter rolled up his sleeves to expose his web shooters. Connors bit back a laugh.
"That wouldn't happen to be duct tape, would it?"
"Hey, I use what I can find, okay?"
Connors motioned with his hands and Peter unstrapped his shooters before handing them over. The doctor shook his head, placing them on the table and beginning to take them apart.
"I have to give you praise for this design though. It's good, but I think I can give them the proper upgrade, make them more functional."
Peter was handed a pair of red gloves by Martha.
"And what are these."
"I sewed them myself, Curt told me about your run in with Electro. I put rubber padding in the palm and knuckles that should reduce electrocution in case you run into him again." Martha explained.
"Wow, Mrs. Connors, I don't know what to say," Peter smiled at her, then turned to where Doctor Connors was fiddling with his web shooters. "I ran out of fluid earlier, maybe you could set up some kind of magazine system where I could load it easier?"
Connors nodded his head.
"Yeah that ssssounds like sssomething I can look into."
Both Martha and Peter stared at the back of Connors head, puzzled by his curious and sudden speech impairment.
"Are you okay?" Martha asked, stepping forward and putting a hand on her husband's shoulder.
"Yessss I'm fine." Connors put his hand up and touched his head. "I feel… fine."
Suddenly he jerked forward and started to spasm.
"Curt!" Martha yelled, taking him by the shoulders, trying to keep him from falling forward. He jerked out of her grasp and stumbled away from the work bench, falling to his knees.
"What's happening?" Peter asked, his spider-sense going into overdrive.
"I don't know!" Martha was getting flustered.
Connors turned towards them, his skin turning a shade of sickly green.
"GET OUT! RUN!" He cried, pressing both his hands to either side of his head, shaking violently. The doctor grew taller, his lab coat and shoes ripping as he grew. His spine elongated outwards, bursting into a muscular green tail. Massive claws replaced his hand and feet and he finally turned to his wife, a forked tongue slipping out from between his new fangs.
He leapt towards her.
Martha screamed.
Peter met him halfway through the air, his momentum carrying them both across the room to slam into the wall. The Lizard hissed and gripped onto Peter, rolling onto his back before hurling him away. Peter bounced off a desk and rolled to the ground, cursing. The Lizard's claws had punctured his skin, ripping through his jacket.
"Curt!" Martha moved cautiously towards the monster. "Curt, can you hear me?"
The Lizard opened its massive mouth and screeched at her, before leaping up and bursting through the ceiling, slithering out of sight.
"What the hell was that?!" Peter was now at Mrs. Connors' side.
"T- The reptile DNA… Curt used to re-grow his arm," Martha stammered. "It must have altered his own genetic makeup more than he thought."
"I have to go after him." Peter looked at his web shooters, still opened-up on the work bench.
No time to fix those.
He turned and leapt up the wall towards the gaping hole, already pulling off his shirt to reveal his suit.
"Peter, don't hurt him!"
Pulling his mask down over his face, Peter looked down at Martha.
"I'll do my best." He disappeared.
Martha looked down towards the ground and covered her face with her hands.
I can't call the police. She thought. Both of our lives will be ruined if this gets out.
A door opened behind her and she wheeled around to find Billy standing in the doorway, taking in the destruction of the lab with wide eyes.
"Billy," Martha rushed to her son. "Listen to me you have to stay in here okay. Stay here with me."
Billy was too stunned by the commotion to speak, so Martha guided her son to a vacant desk and sat him in a chair.
Okay now what? Curt's serum is here, maybe there is a way I can reverse engineer it. Create some short of antidote. It's worth a shot.
She took a deep breath and began to work.
"Here lizard, lizard, lizard," called Peter as he crawled along the wall of a hallway. "Come out and surrender please," His spider-sense triggered, and he whipped around to find that his quarry had stalked up behind him. "Um, pretty please?"
Spider-Man dodged a swipe from one of the Lizard's claws and bounced off the wall, delivering a kick to the beast's head. The Lizard twisted with the kick away from Peter, swiping at him with his tail. Spider-Man was hit in the chest and knocked away down the hall. He managed to catch himself on his hands and backflip to come to a stop in a crouching position. The Lizard was already on him though, slicing the front of his suit as Peter danced away from him.
"Connors, if you can hear me," Spider-Man hit his foe with a right hook. "You've always been my favorite teacher." He twirled away from the Lizard's snapping jaws "So none of this is personal!"
He laced his fingers together and brought them upwards, connecting with The Lizard's chin. The scaly monster was forced upwards into the air, its head bashing into the ceiling. It landed again, backwards on the ground and Spider-Man scrambled onto his chest, trying to pin the monster down. They rolled, and Spider-Man found himself being crushed by the Lizard's weight. Claws raked across his arms and chest tearing his suit.
Do you know how much time it takes to sew these things up?!
The Lizard lurched forward, dragging Peter with it. The pair burst through a door and tumbled over a railing, out into the open air. They fell, both of them trying to gain the upper hand, then they hit the water with a thunderous splash.
Water? Oh right, this is a college. Of course they have a swimming pool and of course that's the first place a ten-foot tall lizard would try to go.
They twisted and turned under water. The Lizard was fierce: not releasing its grip on its prey. Spider-Man wriggled in his grasp and kicked whatever part of the monster he could reach.
Running out of air; can't do this much longer; need to get out of the pool!
The surface of the water churned and splashed, erupting in a spray of water as the combatants rose from the depths. It was a terrifying view. The drops of water hung momentarily suspended in the air as both Spider-Man and the Lizard reared away from each other, then came back, striking at each other once more.
Martha's hands shook as she stirred the mixture together in a test tube. The chemicals blended together in a mess of color before setting on a dark blue.
This is it. It has to be the antidote.
She capped the solution and stuck it in her pocket, turning to her son. She couldn't leave him here without knowing the lizard's whereabouts.
"We've got to move, okay, hold my hand." Billy grasped onto his mother.
"I still don't understand what's going on." He said.
"I'll explain everything later," She said, cautiously leading them from the lab. "but now I have to do something."
Peter clutched at his side, he was bleeding heavily. His vision swam before him and he struggled to focus.
I can't let them down, not Doctor Connors. Not now!
"Come on!" Spider-Man shouted to the monster before him. "Not getting tired, are you?!"
Before anything could happen though, a loud beep echoed down the halls.
"Peter lead him to the main lobby, I have synthesized a cure." The intercom buzzed above their heads.
Martha! Oh man, I hope she's right.
Spider-Man backed away from the Lizard.
"Let's take a walk, Doc."
The Lizard lunged forward and Spider-Man darted out of danger and down the hall. The beast gave chase, half crawling and half slithering after him. It was fast, but Peter was faster. He pumped his legs, forcing himself to keep his distance from the claws swiping after him, ignoring the pain that stung at his side. They turned a corner and Spider-Man burst through a set of doors and into the lobby.
Martha was already there with Billy under her arm. She held out her test tube.
"This! Make him drink this!" She cried, the sight of her mutated husband causing her knees to shake.
Peter started towards them, but the Lizard tackled him from behind. The rolled on the ground again and Spider-Man struggled onto the beast's scaly back. He wrapped his arms around its neck in a choke-hold and gripped with his knees, holding on tight as the monster bucked beneath him.
Martha shoved Billy backwards and rushed forward.
"Hold him steady!"
"What does it look like I'm trying to do?!"
Peter threw himself back, pulling the monster with him and felt the full weight of the Lizard on his chest. Martha was there, trying to force the antidote between her husband's snapping jaws. When she saw an opening, she dumped the contents of the test tube down his throat. The Lizard roared and tore away from Spider-Man, knocking Martha to the floor. The empty test tube bounced away on the floor, finally shattering as it hit the wall. The Lizard gripped the sides of its massive head and thrashed about the floor, kicking up shards of tile with itss razor claws.
Slowly, the green skin returned to its normal color and the long tail collapsed upon itself. Eventually, Doctor Connors was all that remained, covered in his tattered clothes.
"Alright," Spider-Man lay flat on the floor. "No more crossbreeds."
Doctor Connors sat in a desk chair, a blanket wrapped around him.
"I don't understand," He said, shaking furiously, as if close to hypothermia. "The foreign agent, it shouldn't have taken over like it did. The mutation was supposed to have been stabilized."
Martha put her hand on her husband's shoulder.
"It's… it's okay." She said.
"No, it's not, I could have killed someone." Connors buried his head in his hands. "I could have…"
"You could have done something terrible," Peter agree. He was in the process of wrapping a bandage around his middle, covering his wounds. "But you didn't, and I say that counts for something."
Doctor Connors looked at Peter, tears welling in his eyes.
"If you hadn't been here, I don't know what would have happened. And you," He turned to his wife. "My beautiful, brilliant Martha, if you hadn't created that formula…"
Martha wrapped her arms around him.
"Curt it's alright, we are alright. You don't need to worry anymore."
Peter shrugged his shirt back on.
"The antidote, is it permanent? He asked.
"It should be," she answered. "I'll run every test though just to make sure."
Connors looked at his stump of a right arm and sighed.
"I just wanted… to make the world a better place." He spoke softly.
"You will, Doc, that's something I know for sure." Peter responded, scooping up his bag and looking at his watch. "But right now I need to head home."
Martha nodded.
"Do you need a ride?"
"No, I'll take the train." Peter looked at his dismantled web shooters. Connors followed his gaze.
"I'll get those to you as soon as possible." He promised. As Peter headed for the door, Connors called him back. "Peter, I can't thank you enough for protecting my family. I am in your debt."
"Don't mention it. I'm something of a hero. I'm starting to realize this kind of stuff comes with the job." They smiled at each other, Connors rather weakly, and Peter departed. He was halfway down the hall when another voice stopped him.
"So, you're Spider-Man ,right?" It was Billy, sitting against the wall, a book he had been pretending to read in his lap
"Yeah," Peter admitted. "I am."
"That's really cool."
"Thanks, but listen, Billy, you have to promise that you won't tell anyone okay?"
"I won't."
"No, I'm serious. You have to promise me, okay bud?"
"I promise."
"Good," Peter raised his hand and Billy met him in a high five. "I'll see you around."
A raven swooped out of the sky and perched on a tree stump. It pecked around, looking for a late-night meal. Suddenly it exploded in a mass of black feathers and its charred corpse tumbled to the ground. Max Dillon darted forward and picked up the dead animal.
Dinner.
Max was in bad shape. His bandages had been abandoned, revealing a horribly disfigured face. The rest of his body hadn't fared well either. He was essentially reduced to a large mass of scar tissue. He stumbled through the woods, wrapping his tattered hospital gown around him in a feeble attempt to block out the cold.
I can't last much longer out here. I'll be dead in days at this rate.
His stomach rumbled horribly as he plucked his bird, preparing to cook it. With a flick of his fingers he started a small fire in his makeshift campsite. He leaned against a tree as his meal cooked and looked up at the stars.
I've never really seen the stars like this, growing up in the city. Oh god, how I wish I could just go home. I just want everything to go back to the way it was before…
Before I killed those people, before I was forced to run and hide like some kind of animal.
Max wanted to cry, but he doubted his body had the nutrients to support such an act.
This is no way to live, or die for that matter. I need help. I'm the victim here, after all.
He stood up and turned from his shelter, walking purposely up a hill. A rock slid out from under his foot and he fell to his knees, his body aching in protest. Max groaned and stumbled to his feet, then continued to climb. Eventually he reached the top and, across the bay, the city was spread out before him. In the skyline he could see the outline of Oscorp Tower.
The best scientist in the world, right there in that building. If anyone can fix me, they can. They have to, I can't die like this.
Not like this.
Friday came and Peter knocked on the door to Gwen's apartment. He looked down at himself. He had really dressed up for the occasion. A shirt with buttons and clean pants, Peter had really gone all out. Hell, he even had flowers clutched in his sweaty palm.
The door opened and Gwen's face lit up when she saw him.
"Peter!" She grinned.
She looked nice as well: soft blue sweater and blonde hair held up behind a dark headband.
"Hey." Peter smiled back and pushed the flowers toward her, a little too quickly. She blinked at him, then smiled once more.
"These are beautiful," She said, rising on tiptoes to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. "Come on. I'll just put them in a vase."
He followed her inside and the door shut behind them. It was a nice apartment, well-furnished and eerily clean, less homey than May's cozy home. Gwen led Peter into the kitchen, which was stocked with chrome appliances.
"So, uh- where are your parents?" Peter asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He half expected Captain Stacy to be hiding in the breadbox, ready to accuse him of being Spider-Man, and slap cuffs on him.
"They are out now, but they will be back a little later." Gwen found a vase for the flowers and arranged them on the counter. "How's your aunt?"
"She's tired a lot. Treatment takes a lot out of her."
"Yeah I bet." Gwen motioned for Peter to follow her and she led him from the kitchen to the couch. "I mentioned to my mom that would come bake a casserole or something for you guys. It's not much, but we just want to help."
"Yeah! I mean, we won't turn down free food." Peter changed the subject. "I really like your apartment," He gestured around the room. "It's a nice place."
"Thanks, we moved here a couple years ago. Dad wanted to be closer to the station."
"Gotcha."
It'll be interesting to see the old captain when he isn't pointing a gun at me.
They sat in silence for a moment and Peter was acutely aware of how warm this room was. He wiped discretely tried to wipe his palms on the sofa. Gwen twiddled her thumbs in her lap.
"Do you want to see my room?" She asked suddenly.
"Sure."
She took Peter's hand and pulled him off the couch then down the hall. Gwen pushed open her bedroom door and revealed a tidy room . The bedspread was a pale blue that matched the curtains. There were piles of books on the floor and more neatly aligned on the bookshelf, pictures of flowers hung on the walls, and a laptop computer sat half open on a desk. The room was so utterly…Gwen. Peter couldn't help but smile.
"I like it." He said.
"It's nothing special." Gwen's cheeks were tinged pink. She moved to sit on the bed and Peter joined her.
"If I'm being honest, I'm actually really nervous to meet your parents." He admitted.
"Don't be, they will love you," She chuckled nervously. "I mean, know I do."
Peter eyes widened
"Uh what?" Was all he could manage.
Gwen let out a squeak and covered her face with her hands.
"No, no, no – that's not what I meant! Oh my god, I can't believe I said that. I mean we haven't even been dating for that long!"
"I know! It's okay!"
"Let's just forget that happened. I don't know what's gotten into me. I'm just so nervous and you're here in my room and…"
Gwen was rambling and Peter was floundering.
"Do… Do you want to just sit for a little?" He offered. He needed to buy some time to think. The only people who ever mentioned love to Peter had been May and Ben.
Gwen nodded, not trusting herself to speak again. So they sat in silence for a while, not touching, just sitting, occasionally casting glances at one another. Eventually their eyes met, and it was if the tension that had been pulled tight between them was suddenly cut by a knife. Their lips crashed together in a frenzy, arms wrapping around each other, tipping sideways to lay across the covers. Peter felt something odd run across his lips and realized it was her tongue, he met her advances and they continued ravenously.
Gwen gasped, her hands fisting into the back of his shirt.
I can't believe it. She thought. This is actually happening.
It was impossible to tell when one body ended and another began. Peter's hands roamed and encountered lands where no soul had trodden before. Gwen arched her back, lifting her arms and allowing him to remove her sweater. Peter's mind was a frenzy of activity, ping-ponging between delight and panic.
They were caught up in the moment, nothing mattered to them except each other. Gwen bit back a moan as Peter clumsily kissed her neck. What he lacked in experience, he made up for in enthusiasm. Her hands tugged at the bottom of his shirt, lifting it upwards and running her hands up his chest. Her finger trailed down his side and she felt the bandages around his stomach, prodding a little too firmly.
Peter cried out in pain and pulled away from her, stumbling to his feet. The slices on his side burning like fire, having not yet fully healed. They both breathed heavily, Peter was standing across the room with Gwen sitting up on the bed.
"I'm sorry…" He began.
"What's with the bandages? What happened?" She interrupted him. Peter adjusted his shirt back into place and covered his injury. "Peter." She demanded.
He couldn't meet her eyes. His head was too clouded, he needed to think – come up with some excuse.
Think, idiot, think!
"There was an accident. I… I fell down."
She didn't believe him.
"Are you in… like a gang or something? Are you in a fight club?"
"No, I'm not, it's just," Peter forced himself to look at her and felt his stomach drop. She looked glorious, half-dressed and kneeling on the bed, her doleful eyes scrutinizing him critically. He should have been prepared for this. He shouldn't have let things get this far tonight.
I should tell her. I should tell her everything.
No! Get a grip!
Peter opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words and closed it again.
"Peter, I need to know. Those bruises on your face last week and now this? What is going on?"
"It's Flash," Peter lied. "He- He didn't accept my apology."
"Oh.. Oh, Peter." Tears were welling in her eyes.
He forced his legs to move and he embraced her.
"Oh, Peter, I'm so sorry," She sniffed. "I didn't think he was going to hurt."
Peter suddenly hated himself, more than he has ever hated anyone.
"It's okay," He murmured. "It won't happen again."
"How do you know? My dad's a cop, we could tell him, and he would understand. He could protect you."
"No, Gwen it's okay. Me and Flash sort of talked afterwards. I, um… Think we came to an understanding. You know how it is, an eye for an eye and all that. It won't happen again."
She shook her head into his shirt, but didn't press the issue. Guilt settled cold and heavy in Peter's stomach, but he didn't say anymore.
One day, He thought. I'll tell you the truth. I promise, one day.
