Walter Hardy steers clear of Quinton Beck (if that really is Quinton Beck) after the guards lead the reporter away. He hears rumblings along the prison grapevine like distant thunderclouds, mumblings that can only be potential revenge schemes.
One cigar swiped from the warden's private stash buys him some G.P time and he wastes the first five seconds of it praying to a god he never really believed in that the number he's dialling is still his little girl's current one.
"…this better be good."
"Hello, Kitten."
A pause. His grip tightens around the receiver.
"Dad? Daddy?"
"Yes…Felicia, look, where are you?"
"Uh, right now?" She's either blinking guiltily or sleepily and he feels a brief stab. Worry that his daughter doesn't seem to know where she is, guilt that he can feel the seconds cascading out of his hands here and he really needs to talk to her, and he hasn't even articulated the damn request yet. "Union City."
"California?" Don't sound too hopeful, old boy.
"I wish. New Jersey. You know it's the only place in the States you can get a grapnel worth a damn."
"Tell me about it." Stop smiling damn it, no time! "Felicia…"
"Is this about your parole? Have they moved your cell again? Did one of the big dogs try and bust you out? Have they done anything to your parole?"
"Felicia, honey, no…" Still smiling…
"Do you want me to come get you?"
"God no!"
"Is that a challenge?"
From concerned to teasing, just like that. Just like a cat. Damn it.
Felicia's problem is that she thinks being a thief means she's on a different planet. He remembers how that felt. And then he turned 54, and jumping rooftops became just that little bit more dangerous, didn't it?
The guard's glare is spreading a headache from the back of Walter's head all the way to the front. This has taken five minutes and he's got maybe another fifteen before the jackass has to get him out of here to avoid suspicion when he and the next guy change shifts. Which is about twenty minutes away.
"Listen Felicia, even pretending this wasn't being recorded and was a fool proof line…don't come into the city tonight, alright? Not for tonight. Not for a while."
"And why not?"
"Have you been watching the news?"
"Not a lot. This is Jersey so it's mostly business and pawing around hotel rooms wishing I'd taken that job in Hawaii. I tell you Daddy, this is no way to treat the Bla--"
She stops herself. Everything but his mouth is screaming. He takes a few trembling seconds to get control.
"I know you've got your style down pat honey, and I couldn't be more proud even though some people will tell me I shouldn't be. But as I'm sure you and everyone in and out of the business knows, there's a lot of guys with their own special touch out there right now and not all of them are into finesse as you are, sweetheart."
"And if anyone wants to tango I'll dance circles around them. Dad, what's going on here?"
What is going on here?
Before Ben Parker's death none of this super heroes and villains stuff happened out in the streets just like that. Now you can't turn on a TV, radio or computer without hearing all about them.
We interrupt this already complicated world to bring you this breaking news bulletin: something out of a Hieronymus Bosch painting tried to rip the mask off Ben Parker's nephew, if that's who he is, on cable TV. And while this is all unfathomable to the little people, Walter Hardy knows exactly how this works. He thinks up a simple little equation every night and day since he arrived.
No Cat, no Spider.
Why's he calling his daughter? Because she's the Black Cat and while given half a decade there will be no one better (that's not an estimation. He knows his family) lock picking and gymnastics don't mean anything against people who can bring down buildings. Because even with Silvermane just a few months away from release, this Venom creature is twice as dangerous and he doesn't know what he'd do if this thing so much as bruised Felicia's nose. Because even if she isn't hurt, everything happening out there right now is because Walter Hardy pulled the trigger.
So he's taking it out on his own family because he clearly hasn't done enough to Ben Parker's.
"I'm not asking Felicia. Stay in Jersey city, or to Hawaii or anything, but find yourself somewhere, dig a hole and stay there. Understand?"
Silence.
"Felicia…"
"So much for proud."
"We'll talk later, alright?"
"Count on it." The line goes dead.
Just like her mother. Her wonderful mother who could be so fragile and beautiful and then colder and harder than granite around diamonds. Sometimes at the same time. And people wonder why he's never called her.
The night Ben Parker died will never leave Walter Hardy as he replaces the receiver and begins the long trek back to his cell, but it was something to overcome, to redeem for, another kind of lock. His own. Inside he could deal with it. It internalized everything. He would do his time. Now he feels helpless as the world outside quietly goes insane.
No Cat, no Spider.
She may not come today, but his daughter will come for him. He's not sure things will get any safer by then, you could never tell even before the super villains and that Venom creature. He's a prisoner rapped behind foot thick walls, but he doesn't fell safe. The Spider is out there and even he's not safe.
If a superhero isn't safe, then nobody is.