Slightly longer than usual for now. I have another question, this one about characterization: Is it just me or do heroes have little sense of self-preservation? I mean I get that they're supposed to be selfless, but it seems like the way to really get to them is by hurting others rather than themselves.
Now this makes sense I suppose, heroes are by definitions selfless people, but it feels kinda absurd. I mean lets just look at Gwen and Noir: In both canon and the fic they don't seem to care overtly much about their own lives but cave when others are in danger. In the canon Spider-Gwen comics Gwen refuses to budge and give Murdock even an inch when he tempts her with working for him, but the second her dad or Miles needs help she goes begging immediately; Murdock even lampshades it and calls her a bleeding heart.
Noir as well since he doesn't react at all to getting his powers or being placed in danger but breaks down when Urich died and his first thought after getting his face caved in by Sandman is helping Robbie Roberston.
From an audience perspective is it okay with you guys or do you think it's too jarring and makes the heroes seem less human? I'm having both Noir and Gwen show cases of this in this chapter (along with the previouls ones) and I'd like to know if you want me to dial it down or if it's okay so far.
"Urgh..." Peter's eyes parted open slowly, the bright light of the sun streaming from the window immediately giving him another unneeded headache, "Where..." He blinked and raised both hands up to cover his eyes. He could feel the heat through the window, the bare skin of his chest pressed against the hard mattress uncomfortably. Wherever he was he had a feeling in his gut he wasn't going to be offered a warm cup of milk and a bed in breakfast.
The last thing he remembered was...
"Ah, damn it..." He let out a pained cough, his headache only getting worse. It all came rushing back: The little stunt with this madhouse's Felicia; her confession about her cat burglar dad biting off more than he could chew; an agreement to meet after Castle's family was safe; those damned ninjas deciding that he was a loose ended that needed tidying up and then...
Then they cut off his hand. And it grew back.
He shut his remaining eye tightly and tried to control his breathing. More images came and went, all of them only worsening the urge to vomit (and probably annoy whoever was housing him when they came in to check). He'd killed people before, sometimes without even feeling guilty about it, but that...he'd always used a gun or even just a knife or a pipe. There was something impersonal about it, something that made it easy to not think about it too much. He didn't feel the blood on his hands and it was over in a moment.
Uncle Ben told him once that being a pilot was easier than being a soldier. Not because he didn't risk death every time he entered the battlefield, but because everything was so distant. Planes were shot down and bombs were dropped on clusters of faceless crowds; he didn't see the people screaming and praying that they didn't want to die. It made the guilt easier to swallow, and he talked about friends who had to beat people to death with shovels when their guns ran out of ammo.
He was lucky, he'd said, that he never had to watch the life fade from a man's eyes.
After that...he couldn't remember. It would come back eventually, but he didn't feel like sticking around for that, "Gotta focus..." First he had to get out of this place. Any thoughts about guilt, battle fatigue or shell shock could come after that.
Blinking away the blurriness, he frowned at the feeling of bandages covering his chest and left eye, "Whoever took me doesn't want me to die, at least..." he muttered. It didn't give him much relief; just because he was patched up didn't mean what they had in store was good.
He tried to raise himself up only to fall back down almost immediately. His body felt like lead and a quick look at his hands showed another problem, "...Perfect." He tried to separate his wrists and winced; handcuffs, pretty thick ones by the looks of em. Trying to move his feet wasn't any better - Even if he couldn't see them he could hear the clinking of the chains and something cold around his ankle.
Right, definitely not a good place to be.
Another attempt to break the links came and went, but the metal bindings showed no signs of bending. Either he was still weak or whoever brought him here used the same miracle metal that Stars and Stripes and White Widow cuffed him with a couple of weeks ago, "Not again. I don't need this right now..." He moved his shoulders and tried to prop himself up on the bed. He wasn't going to get out of here like this and he had a feeling Bullseye wasn't going to come to his rescue again.
He was on his own.
'Come on, think! You've been in worse before...' He looked around the room. Besides the bed and a small desk with a chair in front of it the inside was more or less barren. He could see two doors to his front and right, a muffled voice and footsteps coming from the former. Someone was here, and he wasn't going to stick around to see if they were friendly or not.
Thankfully whoever owned the place wasn't very tidy. The room was cluttered with no small amount of junk and a few empty bottles of booze, but there was something else he could use. Throwing himself at the edge of the bed, he grasped for one of the fallen paperclips and grabbed it with shaking hands. He could only hope that his fingers would stop trembling long enough for him to pull this off.
"Come on..." He sat up with a few pained breaths and pressed his back against the bedframe. He could hear the voices again, louder this time, 'Move, Parker...' He bit the small end of the paperclip till there was a small dent, bending the point so the metal would stick out. He wasn't exactly a master criminal, but desperation was the mother of invention. Do or die, and he'd been up to a lot of doing ever since he got to this asylum.
Holding the piece of metal between his middle and ring finger, he guided it towards the keyhole before using the makeshift handle to turn, "Come on, come on..." He looked at the door and jimmied the clip with his thumb. He just needed to-
*Click*
The ring of steel came off with a snap and his right hand was free. Throwing another glance at the door, he picked the next keyhole and gave a sigh of relief as the last of the cuffs fell onto the bed with a dull thud, "Eat your heart out, Bullseye..." He allowed himself a small smile before pressing his knees closer to his chest. Now he just had to get these damn leg cuffs off and find some clothes and he'd be right as rain.
It didn't take much longer than his previous bindings and after about a minute of fiddling with the lock he heard the satisfying click of the mechanism releasing its hold and falling to join its partner.
"Right, now to get outta here..." He took a deep breath and put a shaky foot down on the floor, making sure to avoid the bottles and just hoping there weren't broken shards of glass he couldn't see. His entire body still felt like it was made of jelly, but he'd been through worse, "Slow and steady..." He grabbed the bedframe with shaking hands and pulled himself up. He'd open the window and jump out half naked if that was what it took. Wasn't like he was worried about freezing to death.
He only managed two steps before he fell, his legs finally giving just before he landed flat on his face.
As if things couldn't get any worse he heard the door opening with a soft creak, 'Just my luck...' Looking up, he caught sight of a twist stepping into the room, a tray of food in her hands. It didn't take long for her to find him and she raised a brow, the expression quickly being replaced by something that looked like disbelief as an awkward silence enveloped the room.
"Uh..." she said, eyes shifting from him to the picked cuffs lying on the bed, "Well...that's not what I thought I'd see walking in here." She shook her head, sounding more amused than anything else, "Damn it, I told Ms. Jones the cuffs weren't a good idea but no~." She placed the tray at the side table before kneeling down and offering him a hand, "Come on, big guy, get up. Don't want you opening up those wounds again."
Well...she was friendly. Peter looked at the offered hand before reluctantly accepting; his spider-sense hadn't blared at all since he saw her, so that had to count for something.
She lifted him up with some effort before placing him back on the bed in a sitting position. Again Peter felt the urge to try and jump out the window but he reined it in. Sometimes his paranoia got the best of him, "...Thanks." he said.
"No prob," she said, throwing him a smile and a cheeky wink in response. It was bizarre; she was acting like he didn't look like a gutted pig covered in bandages, "Hey, sorry about the cuffs. Ms. Jones was a bit paranoid after what happened last night."
"Last night?" He pinched the bridge of his nose to try and stem the headache, "Who...Who are you?"
"You forget already? I'm Kate Bishop, one of the two good Samaritans who saved your ass. All in a days work and all that. "
"I...don't remember," he admitted. Besides going mad the last thing he recalled was that broad in red dressed like a prostitute taking that bastard away, "You...saved me?" He didn't doubt it if that was the case. Ever since he got here he'd been getting his keister pulled out of the fire whether it was by Spider-Woman, Bullseye or Gwen. At this rate he was starting to doubt he'd last much longer if he kept going.
"Yeah, you're welcome for that, too." She nodded, the smile never leaving her face, "Well, actually I can't take all the credit. Ms. Jones helped too, you know. Probably remember her; picked up one guy and threw him at another guy? Said we weren't supposed to get involved? Yeah, that's her."
"Not yet, but I'm sure it'll come back to me eventually..."
"It always does. Well hey, you should get something to eat; you look like you've been through hell." She picked up the tray and placed it at his side. He could see some (badly cooked) soup and bread lying on the plates but after everything it looked like a king's feast, "Can you eat on your own or not? I'll help you, but I get the feeling neither of us wants to see me drive the choo-choo train through the tunnel."
"Got that right..." He gave a strained laugh and picked up the spoon slowly. He could at least do this much.
He ate the light breakfast in silence, Bishop sitting at the chair and just watching him. He didn't know whether he could trust her fully, but he wasn't exactly swimming in options right now. Whatever the case he had to calm down and try to fix this hole he buried himself in: Murdock betrayed him - though it was more accurate to say he betrayed him first - and he didn't have any other options. Castle was counting on him to get that location.
He spooned the last of the thin soup into his mouth before he sighed. He couldn't see a way out of this, at least not one that ended in Castle getting his family back. He could just leave it, he guessed. It wouldn't have been his first failure ever since he donned the mask and he couldn't say he didn't try. Sometimes things just ended in failure, that was a lesson he'd learned all too well back home.
It was only after his second bite of toast that Bishop finally decided to speak, giving a short cough to draw his attention, "So..." She sat up straight on the chair and crossed her legs. Trying to look more professional, maybe? "Could we talk about what happened last night? I mean you kinda went..." She gestured in the air vaguely, "Well, don't wanna sound offensive or anything but-"
"I went insane..." He placed the crusty bread down and sighed, looking at Bishop with grim eyes, "If you want an explanation then you're going to be disappointed. I got no idea why the serum's inside my body or why it broke through the way it did."
"Serum?" Her eyebrows knotted together in worry. With obvious hesitation he saw her look around (did she think someone else was listening in?) before leaning closer, "Alright, real talk. What do you mean by serum? You one of Captain America's clones or something?"
"Do I look like a Negro to you?" he asked, Bishop giving him a weird look in response, "...What?"
"That's racist."
"Back where I came from it was the proper term. It's everyone else in this madhouse that's bizarre." He scoffed, "To answer your question; no, I'm not one of Stars-and-Stripes' little copies. The serum I'm talking about is..." He looked down at his right arm...was it even his arm, really? "I...it was made by this dumb kid a couple of years ago. Dunno what he was thinking putting all that junk together but it turns people injected with it to these giant Lizards-"
"You're talking about the Lizard serum?" she asked, her eyes wide, "Shit, I heard about it before but I never thought I'd actually see it firsthand. You took the suppressants, right? You didn't turn into a man-lizard thing so-"
"I'm supposed to be immune." Emphasis on 'supposed to be'. Then again very little made sense since that night at the docks, "I...I think that bastard with the glowing sword did something to me, and whatever it was it may have caused that little poison to spread. Seems fine now, but I'm not surprised that your boss decided she needed a little insurance to make sure I didn't go nuts again."
"Yeah, vibranium cuffs. All the rage these days...well, just gimme a heads up if you plan to go full Lizard or whatever. Don't really plan on being anyone's breakfast, thanks. "
"...Where is she, anyway?" he asked, ignoring the attempt at a joke.
"Oh, she's out on a case with Mr. Stacy. She didn't want to leave me alone but I kinda insisted." She snorted. Considering the cuffs Peter had to wonder just what she meant by 'insist'... "'Sides, you're a hero, aren't you? I mean...most heroes don't kill people, but those Hand fuckers come back from the dead so much that shoot to kill is pretty much first instinct for everyone else who runs into them. Wouldn't be surprised if they're already up and kicking again."
"They...what?" He looked at her like she grew a second head, "What do you mean they come back from the dead?"
"Uh...you didn't know that?" she asked back, looking at him like he was the weird one, "Reason they jump onto people's swords is because they think that if they do a good job the 'demon head' will raise them up as eternal servants or some other culty bullshit. Not sure how true it is, but they never really run out of disposable henchmen no matter how many S.H.I.E.L.D or anyone else takes down so there has to be some truth to it."
The way she talked about them...she wasn't just some good Samaritan. Peter shut his eyes tightly and took in a ragged breath. It was coming back. She did save him from this ninjas, but...
"...Who are you?"
She blinked at the odd question, "Told you, I'm Kate-"
"No, who are you?" he repeated, looking at her through narrowed eyes, "That...the other dame said something about how you 'weren't supposed to get involved'. You didn't just run into me that night, did you?"
"Well..." She bit her lip and looked around the room before speaking up again, "Alright, fine." She threw up her hands, "I used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D before I had a little falling out with my, uh, mentor. I still keep in touch with them, get updates if something's going wrong or whatever. Well, a couple of days ago they called and asked me for a favor."
"That being?"
"They wanted me and Ms. Jones to keep an eye out for the Dark Spider," she said, "I mean, how could I say no? It seemed harmless enough and it was a paying gig. Me and her went out looking for your usual haunts or followed anyone who tweeted sightings of you. Wasn't very successful in all honesty, but then we saw you..." That vague gesture again, "Having an argument with the Hand. That's when we came in and saved you, by the way."
"That gang of spooks again?" He clicked his tongue. He should have known they wouldn't leave him alone, "They tell you why?"
"Nope. Asked why, but I just got a 'need-to-know basis only, Ms. Bishop. If you were still an active member of S.H.I.E.L.D you would be privy to this information'," she said, changing her voice to a faux-baritone and rolling her eyes, "You know how it is. Anyway, Ms. Jones didn't want to get involved but the job would fail if you died so..." She shrugged, "Besides, fuck the Hand. Those guys have been a pain in the ass for years now."
Well, that was one thing they could agree on at least, "...You don't seem that worried. Not scared I might go insane again?"
"If you did it's not like I'm an untrained civ. Had to do lot of goodwill with S.H.I.E.L.D to get this little retirement. They usually don't accept 'mentor drama' as an excuse to let you quit."
She was something, all right. Still, he needed to get out of here. Clear his head, "Uh...do you know where my mask is? ...And the rest of my clothes?"
"Your mask is in the living room; bit scratched up - okay, really scratched up - but its still hanging on. As for the rest of your clothes..." She shook her head, "Yeah, you ain't getting those back. Those Hand ninjas sliced you up like a cake and unless you wanna try copying Lady Gaga I'd suggest against trying to put em on again. I bought some new clothes, don't worry. Don't want Spider-Streaker to be your new hero name."
"Huh...well, I guess that's another thing I should thank you for." He offered a small smile, one she returned just as quickly.
"No prob. Heroes gotta stick together, yeah?" She clapped him on the shoulder and laughed, "Besides, I'm pretty sure those ninja dudes did you a favor. I mean, garter socks? Seriously? What is this, the 30's?"
"I wish..." God, he wanted to go home. It might have been undergoing depression with the cops just as dirty as the criminals but at least it was familiar, it was something he understood. No crazy Russians in Dynamo suits or dames running around dressed like clowns trying to impose morality.
"...You know, don't take this the wrong way but you're different from what I thought," she murmured, giving him a look he couldn't make out.
"Meaning?"
"I just...I dunno, it's weird." She shrugged, "I've never really met an honest to god Superhero before...well, there was Cap but it's the not the same. She got her powers from an injection, she chose to get them, but I'm not sure if it's the same for people like you, She-Hulk or Spider-Woman. I mean it's not like there are comic books about you three," she gave him a toothy grin, "Though I'm sure some people would pay for that."
"My life's not interesting, believe me." He forced a laugh. Just stumbling into one disaster after another; who'd want to read something like that?
"Hey, you never know. I'm sure a lot of people would be curious to see who's behind the mask," she said, "I mean, you should see the voting polls for you and Spider-Woman. People are wondering just how old you guys are supposed to be. Minimum was 35 for you, by the by," she looked at his bandaged face, "They'd probably shit their pants if they realized just how young you are...and it'd probably give them ideas of trying to copy you."
"Yeah...I'd appreciate you keeping that a secret." He brought a hand through the raw skin. Maybe he should have been more worried about people finding out his identity but hell, he was running around with a dead kid's face. He doubted anyone would be able to find anything on him, "So...thanks again for everything, but I should probably go-"
"Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast, Spidey." She pressed down on his shoulder before he could move to stand, "My boss wants a word with you, or at the very least she wants a way to keep contact. We did get hired to keep an eye on you and all."
"...Fine, how much longer will she be?"
"Depends on that case. I'd call, but the last time I did that I botched one of her stakeouts and made her fail a case so..." She clicked her tongue, "Yeah, I'm already on thin ice with that little stunt I pulled last night so I don't wanna try my luck. Why not just stay in for a bit? Hell you could probably at least use a shower after everything you did. Your wounds should be healed by now, right? Supers have a healing factor."
"If you're offering..."
The warm water hitting against his skin brought no small amount of relief. Releasing a tired breath, he pressed his forehead against the cold tiles of the bathroom wall and let himself relax. His cuts had mostly healed, though some ugly scars had taken their place. He didn't worry too much; a night's rest and he was sure they'd be gone. It was one of the reasons he survived this long, after all.
Well, his left eye was still blind, but he could deal with that.
With the relative silence of the bathroom surrounding him his thoughts came back to his previous problems. Octavius was still gone, but that felt like a far-off problem despite the severity of it. No, he could worry about him later: He couldn't find a way home if he was dealing with Murdock and his ninjas. Maybe it was just him but he was pretty damn sure someone like carrot top wouldn't take what he did last night lying down. Even if Bishop was right and those bozos could be brought back to life he wasn't going to hope on that counting too much.
Castle's family was still a problem, too. Would he just go back to the guy and tell him that Murdock turned on them both? Hell, why bother? He could just ignore the guy; not like he gave him much reason to care about keeping him up to date.
...He was getting a headache again.
"Ah..." He shook his head and looked down at his right hand. Looking at it now it was hard to believe that it was covered in scales just a few hours ago, "...Damn kid." He scowled and shut off the shower. He didn't know how the damn serum got inside him but if Octavius was responsible then that was just one more thing he had to pay for. Add it to the list of atrocities that he'd put on his damn tombstone.
Then again, would he have survived if he didn't have it?
Frowning, he pulled back the shower curtain before doubling over, a sudden wave of painful coughs nearly forcing him on his knees. Both hands raised to cover his mouth and he felt something warm seeping between his fingers, 'What the hell...?' Pulling his hands away, he grimaced at the sight of blood on the pale skin. That...That was new.
"Get him off!"
A jolt of electricity stabbed into his side and he fell, fingers losing their grip on Octavius' neck, "Get back here, you bastard!" Peter could see the fink stumbling away, but he barely managed a stand before he felt more blades of electricity hitting his back and forcing him to kneel. No, he wasn't going to let it end like this! He didn't care if he had to crawl on his damn fingertips, he wasn't going to-
"Just stay down, would you? This is embarrassing."
A kick connected to his face and pushed him on his back. Faceless goons crowded around him, their hands on his arms and legs to keep him from struggling. Just barely he saw a dame kneel down, the smile on her face reminding him of a kid that just got a new toy.
"Well now, isn't this interesting? I'm gonna have fun with you!"
His lungs felt like they were on fire.
Wiping away the blood on the tub, he walked shakily to the folded towel and tried to keep himself focused. He just needed to get some fresh air or...or maybe he could ask Bishop for help. Anything other than turning into a weepy mess on someone's bathroom.
The cuffs were tight on his arms and legs. Peter struggled in the bindings even though he knew it was pointless. How many times did she do this now? He'd lost count at this point.
The door in front of the table he was trapped to opened and she stepped in, her labcoat stained with blood, "Well, someone seems energetic!" She grinned, ignoring the murderous scowl she gave him. It was pointless defiance; why would she be scared at this point? It was something she'd done before: Take him out of his imprisonment, stab a syringe into his neck and then watch to see what happened.
The benefits of 'natural immunity'...
"Got a new guest, by the way. She's just like you...well, not exactly. Haven't really broken her in yet," She picked up a syringe and flicked the needle, her expression contemplative for a moment before she grinned again, "I'll fix that eventually. I mean, how long did it take to for you, am I right?"
She stabbed the syringe into his neck and he screamed, sounding more and more like a wounded animal.
He had to focus.
Putting on the new clothes, he tried to stop his shivering and grimaced the feeling cloth on the still-wet skin. It wasn't just a headache now - He felt like vomiting his guts out and even a single blink caused his vision to spiral out of control, "Got to..." He closed his eyes and groped the walls, trying to find the door. A part of him was tempted to just lay down and let it win, to piss and vomit and lose control of everything.
He only managed a few steps before he felt something hitting his gut. Opening his eyes slowly, he found himself face to face with the mirror with the sink pushing onto the gray turtleneck, "Wrong way..." He turned the faucet and splashed the water on his face desperately. Anything to distract him, anything to keep him from turning into one of those crazies.
How long had he been here?
He couldn't move, could barely breath really. He looked up at the ceiling blankly, his body deathly still. He didn't even know what was happening anymore; he knew they came for him sometimes, knew they kept putting more and more poison into his veins, but everything between that and staring at the walls of his cell was a blur. He'd given up on trying to gain even a semblance of memory four tests ago.
The door to his cell opened. Another round of testing? He didn't even know why they did it. Didn't they have enough data by now, the scientist in him asked. Well, whatever...it wasn't like he would remember too much.
Rather than a pair of goons dragging him out he heard something he never expected to get in this hellhole: Pity.
"Oh my god..." A dame, but her voice...it was familiar in a way, but there was something off about it; too soft, too sympathetic, "What did they do to you?" He could feel warm hands cupping the sides of his face. It was hard to see her through his fading vision, his eyelids already dropping in exhaustion, but he caught a glimpse of lightly tanned skin and chestnut shaped eyes before everything went dark.
"I'm going to get you out of here. I promise."
Wrong. It was all wrong.
His right hand lashed out and punched the mirror, the glass shattering and falling onto the sink, "This isn't right..." His legs finally gave in and he fell onto the floor his face pressing onto the wet tiles. It wasn't...he remembered waking up in that alley, not in...not in some Frankenstein lab being experimented on by some depraved twist. That was the truth, that was...
No, he was getting confused. He had to control himself. He was Spider-Man, damn it! He was Spider-Man! He was-
"Spider-Man!"
The locked door opened with a crash and he shut his eyes tightly. He heard Bishop screaming something about 'privacy' but it was drowned out by an all-too familiar voice drowning her out.
"...Gwen?"
What the hell was going on?
Gwen grunted as Ben struggled against her, hands smacking onto her face and shoulders and mumbling something she couldn't make out, "It's going to be okay. Just stay with me..." she mumbled, doing her best to keep her voice level. She knew it would be bad ever since she found that alleyway but this...she needed to do something, fast. She wasn't going to lose anyone to that damn serum ever again.
"Come on." She trudged to the living room and placed him on the couch as delicately as she could. His struggling died down, replaced by more nearly incoherent cries, 'What the fuck did that serum do to you?' She placed a hand and on his forehead and hissed; hot, she could feel it even through the gloves of her costume. Scowling, she turned to look at the stunned archer, "I thought you said he was alright!?"
"Spider-Woman, what are you-"
"Not now!" she snapped, feeling slightly guilty at the sight of her friend flinching back, "Just...Just answer the question, okay? Was he alright when you saw him?"
"Yeah, he was fine!" she answered, "I mean he was injured and sluggish, but that was nothing new. He wasn't..." She looked down at him and bit her lip, "Look, all I know is he was good before he got into the bathroom. After that..."
"This happened..." She brushed a hand through the hair matted to his forehead, her scowl fading, "It's alright, I think I have something that can help him." She rummaged through her backpack and pulled out a syringe full of suppressant. She should have been here sooner, but what was she supposed to do without anything to help him with? It took her all night just to scavenge one of these things.
She really needed to get Cap's number. The whole one-sided conversations were getting old.
The needle was nearly at his neck before she heard a soft mumble, "Cindy...why are you..."
'Cindy? Who the hell's that?' She shook her head. Now wasn't the time, "Just hold on. This should help." She pushed the needle to his neck and pressed, his struggles lessening almost immediately when the counter-serum entered his system.
"Fuck me..." She pulled the injection away and nearly smashed it to the table. What the fuck was happening? Ben was supposed to be immune, right? There was no reason for him to be showing symptoms now of all times. Hell he was just fine after he got injected by that agent Hill or whatever.
So why in the fuck did he lose his shit last night?
"Uh..." Kate looked at her, eyes shifting between the two Spiders, "Look, in any other situation I might be asking for an autograph but first things first." She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, "How in the hell did you even know he was here? I checked, no one followed us last night else we'd probably be knee-deep in Hand ninjas and reporters right now; and trust me I don't even know which is worse. So spill."
Gwen remained silent. How was she supposed to explain that Murdock told her to come here? Hell, why was Kate involved in the first place? She knew Jessica had super strength or whatever but she made it clear that she didn't care about being a superhero, so why was her secretary dressed in a purple catsuit like it was Halloween? Did she miss something?
"I got a-"
"Ugh..."
Both of their heads snapped to Ben. The other Spider-person's eyes opened and he looked around the room, his lips curled in a frown, "...Feel like I got hit by a truck..." He swung his legs over the edge of the couch and stood, slightly shaky but otherwise stable, "What'd I miss?" He looked at Kate then her, his frown worsening, "I thought you were someone else." He shook his head, "...Am I still hallucinating? Feels like a bad dream."
"No such luck, Bucko." she replied, a slight bite on the quip. A 'thank you' wouldn't have hurt, or at least she could do without the look of disgust, "Found you passed out on the bathroom. You look like shit," He rolled his eyes and made a disgruntled noise, "So...mind explaining what happened?"
"Ask Bishop-"
"I'm asking you," she said, more forceful this time. Ignoring his glare she pressed on, "Look, I know you don't like me and fine, I can deal with that, but last night...shit, Spider-Man: It's all over the news! People are losing their shit wondering what the fuck is going on with you and I have to say I'm one of em. Why'd the serum spread? Hell, why were you even fighting Murdock's goons? Didn't even know you knew the guy!"
"Neither did I. First time I hear you knowing about carrot top..." He managed a small shrug, "I'll tell you the same thing I told Bishop: One of Murdock's lackeys...did something. 'Cut the strings that tied me' or some other mumbo-jumbo." He waved a hand through the air, "Wouldn't know how to make sense of it if I tried. Either way he took out my powers, at least for a bit, and without my powers-"
"You had no immunity..." she finished, her voice grim, "I...look, you need to be careful when dealing with Murderdock. I don't know what deal you had with him, but-"
"It's over. He had information I needed but I really doubt I'm getting it now."
Information? On what, Octavius? Gwen bit her lower lip and looked down at his right hand. What little she could see through the long sleeves and gloves looked normal, albeit paler than usual.
So why in the hell did she still feel so paranoid?
"If you're looking for information on that Octavius guy-"
"That's not it," he interrupted, "It's..." He looked away and scowled, his hands clenching, "Forget it-"
"Alright, knock it off with that bullshit!" She pressed a finger to his chest, again ignoring his glare, "You told me to leave you alone but it takes, what, a couple of days before you lose your shit because of the serum? And hell, now you're apparently making deals with Matt Murderdock!" She threw up her hands in exasperation, "Whether you're you-know-who or not doesn't change that this situation is pretty damn fucked, isn't it?"
"I can fix this on my own. It's not-"
"Yeah, bullshit you can! Look at what's happened so far! Face it, you need help-"
Something was wrong. Her head felt fuzzy, though it was so faint she almost ignored it entirely. Ben seemed to share her sentiments. His head turned to the apartment door just before she heard a knock, "...Expecting visitors, Bishop?
"No...Ms. Jones would have called if she was coming back," She looked at them both, "What's wrong? You both got quiet."
Another knock on the door resounded, cutting off any explanation either of the two could give. With a nod to them both Ben trudged towards the door carefully and opened it.
"Hey there, young'uns. That's what you young people say, right?"
Murderdock. Gwen felt her blood boil at the sight of the red-suited douchebag standing on the doorway, his lips raised into the same smug fucking smirk he always had, "Great, just what we needed..." The eyes of her mask narrowed and her hands shook. There was a special place in hell for people who punched a blind guy, but she had the feeling God would make an exemption for the devil of hell's kitchen.
A line of thought Ben shared given the attempted punch he gave. Sadly the move was sluggish and Murdock easily ducked it, "Now, now. Is that any way to treat a guest?" He delivered a kick to the back of his knees and pressed the bottom of his cane at his neck, "And yes, Spider-Woman I can 'see' you glowering at me." He turned to Kate, "You too, Ms. Bishop. I'm sure you're both itching to throw a punch or nock an arrow but I'd recommend against it for Mr. Spider's sake if nothing else."
"Don't listen to him, just-"
"Shhh, that's enough of that" He pressed the cane harder, "Regardless, I didn't come here for a fight-"
"You're not welcome here, we made that clear last time," Kate said. The glare she was sporting surprised even Gwen, "I know you're blind, but two arrows through the eyes still hurt."
"As you told me the last time." He laughed, the gesture doing nothing but infuriating all three of them, "Regardless, as I just said I'm not here to get into a little pissing contest. Matter of fact, I'm here to apologize for last night's unfortunate misunderstanding." He stepped over Ben's prone body and into the apartment. Gwen drew closer to the injured vigilante and offered him a hand, which he accepted with a cough. Their little arguments could wait till Murderdock was gone.
"What do you want...?" Ben asked, a hand rubbing his neck, "Your lackey made it clear where we stand-"
"No, no. Otomo had...overstepped." He tapped the cane against the floor, "I hope you don't let the way he acted color the rest of our dealings. He's very loyal, but zealous. He thought he was protecting me, that your little chat with Ms. Hardy proved that it's inevitable we come into conflict." Another tap, "I, on the other hand, am an optimist. I'm nothing if not adaptive to changes in certain situations."
"Your ninjas were trying to kill him!" Kate yelled, looking like she was a hair's breath from from throttling him altogether.
"And Otomo's being disciplined for his rash actions," he replied calmly, his head not even turning to look at her, "You don't trust me, Mr. Spider, and I accept that. In this business who can really trust anyone? But there's a saying I'm fond of: Keep your friends close and your enemies closer." His smile widened. Gwen thought it made him look more like a shark than he already was, "Otomo was rash, but he acted in defense of me. I still hope to salvage this situation."
"He's not working for you again," Gwen hissed, "You nearly killed him. He-"
"Would be suffering now if I didn't lead you to his location," he finished, "As adept as Ms. Jones and Ms. Bishop are they are unable to properly handle the serum as you did. How do you think he'd be if I didn't tell you where he was? If I wanted him dead I could have just kept quiet, let the serum degrade his mind till there was nothing left. I'm offering him an olive branch here, Spidey, and I'm hoping he doesn't waste it."
"You-"
"Say what you have to say..." Ben said, ignoring her and Kate's looks of disbelief.
"What I propose is this: I give you the address where the Castle family is being held. I know it's not your fault that Mr. Fisk's prize is no longer something we can recover, so consider this an apology of sorts. You also have my guarantee that Otomo will no longer bother you, and neither will the rest of the Hand so long as we continue our dealings. We don't have to trust each other, but we can still come to a mutual benefit."
"Yeah, and you send me to another wild goose chase? Gimme a break..."
"Ultimately it's up to you." He pulled out a slip of paper and slipped it on top of the table, "My information on Mr. Joseph's assets was accurate, was it not? And if you wish to use the logic of pragmatism then you know I have nothing to gain by lying to you: Liberating Mr. Castle's family deprives the Maggia of the assets they're using to safeguard them and their reputation is liable to take a hit after it becomes clear they can't hold on to those who rely on them for protection."
"Either way you win and I lose..."
"I like to think we both benefit," he replied, "Well, that's all I came here for. I hope to see you again, all of you. Oh, and Ms. Bishop? Tell Ms. Jones that the offer to free Hope Shlottman still stands if she's willing to make a deal."
If looks could kill then Murderdock would have been six feet under with the glare Kate was giving him.
Without a care in the world the blind lawyer left, whistling all the way down the hall with a skip in his step. Ben looked down at the floor for a moment before he made his way to the table, picking up the slip of paper and reading through it, "...He was telling the truth," he mumbled, looking at the now-empty hallway and putting it in his pocket, "...I have to go-"
"Woah, woah, woah! Are you serious!?" Gwen stood in front of him, her hands raised, "His goons just attacked you last night! There's no way-"
"What other choice do I have?" he asked, his voice a weak rasp, "He was telling the truth, my...the same thing that warns you about danger didn't blare at all." He sighed, "It's a risk, but I'll have to take it. Three innocent people are on the line. I can't just stay here."
"Then let me help!" she said, speaking up again to interrupt his 'no', "Look, whatever this is I'm not going to let you die because of it! We can go our separate ways or whatever when this is dealt with. Right now you look like you can barely stand, and whatever beef you got with me can fucking wait. So just suck it up and let me help you, okay?"
"Even if I did agree what makes you think Castle's going to say yes?" he asked back, "The last time you two met Stars-and-Stripes brained him with that shield of hers. He's pretty damn likely to shoot the second he sees you."
"He'll just have to deal then, cause I'm not apologizing to that prick," she spat. He crossed the line when he attacked her home - her dad - and placed the Parkers in danger, "Now come on, let's-"
"I'm coming with you two," Kate said. Looking at the only other occupant she couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the (clearly customized) bow and quiver of arrows she was now sporting, "...What? I told Dark Spider over here that I was going to keep an eye on him, and since I don't fancy my chances of forcing him to stay this seems like the better option. Besides, could you two really afford to turn away help?"
Ben sighed, but nodded after a moment of silence, "...Fine. It's both your funerals."
Castle wasn't happy.
Gwen barely managed a couple of steps into the supposed safehouse before her spider-sense warned her of incoming gunfire, "Nice to see you too, buddy!" She jumped to the wall to avoid the hale of bullets. She was tempted to swing over and kick him in the face for old time's sake before Ben rushed over to him, grabbing the gun and forcing it down with a glare.
"You're trying this again, kid?" the psycho asked, glaring at his Ben's masked face, "The last time-"
"Stars-and-Stripes ain't here." He let go of the gun and crossed his arms, "Believe it or not she and Bishop here to help us, and unless you're too damn proud to accept help when your family's lives are on the line I don't see what turning them away will do now."
He threw another glare at her (and she liked to think she gave a good one in return despite the mask) before looking back at Ben again, "Don't you know who she is-"
"No, and like I told you before I don't care," he said, cutting him off before he could say any more. Gwen gave a small sigh of relief; she'd thought about the risk of that prick telling him her identity, but it was a chance she had to take, "We're dealing with her now whether either of us like it or not. Just suck it up till we can get your family then you can solve whatever little grudge match you two have without dragging me into it."
Castle let out an annoyed grunt before he eventually nodded, making his way to the table covered in a row of guns. Gwen scoffed and detached herself from the wall, landing next to Kate who was pointing an arrow at the delusional criminal.
"Wow...that was worse than I expected." She lowered the bow and placed the arrow back on its quiver, "So...what's the deal with you two? Seems like he's really got it in for you."
"Long story, mostly with a delusional douchebag who thinks bagging me and dumping me in front of the police station's going to fix the fact that he's a fucked up asshole whose family left him."
Kate hummed in response, though whether she really got it or not Gwen didn't know. Regardless she made her way to where Ben and Castle were standing, looking down at the stack of guns the latter was checking over, 'Yeesh, someone overpacked their zombie survival kit...' She crossed her arms and looked at them both, "..Hope you're carrying rubber bullets cause you're going to be needing a lot of em."
Castle's scowl was about as much as she expected, as was Ben's annoyed growl, "Are you kidding me? I know he shot at you but he's trying to save his family. Is now really the time for this little high horse you're riding?" He shook his head, "Why don't you look in the mirror and ask yourself if you wouldn't do anything you had to in his place? If your family was in danger wouldn't you kill to protect them?
"As a matter of fact I didn't. If I did Castle wouldn't be here right now."
An awkward quiet settled over the safehouse, broken only when Kate decided she didn't want a part of whatever this was and loudly decided to leave the room.
Eventually she saw Ben pick up a pistol from the pile and offer it to Castle, "...He's carrying a side-arm. You can't hold him to the same rules you have, hero." The way he said it was like an insult, one she felt easily enough, "He'll use those rubber bullets. but he'll kill if he has to. We both will. That fine with you?"
She could practically hear the resentment dripping from his voice, though she could tell her words had gotten to him, "Fine. With any luck neither of you will 'have to' go down that route."
Castle took the gun with a grunt, placing it at his waist holster before mumbling something about having to load the non-lethal rounds into the rifle. The both of them watched him go before Ben eventually left as well, trudging out the door and joining Kate outside.
'...He didn't take a gun with him.'
Another quiet settled over the unlikely pair, laced with the occasional sound of a magazine being fed into a rifle. Gwen was tempted to leave herself and let Castle do whatever it was that he was busy with before he suddenly spoke up, "Your father betrayed the law by lying for your sake." He pressed the magazine into the rifle with a loud snap, "He shouldn't be walking around like a free man."
"Yeah, and you think you're any better?" She snapped back, a bitter laugh escaping her, "Whatever high ground you think you're standing on is flimsy, 'Punisher'. You thought taking me back would save your family life? Give you the medal and pat on the head you wanted? You're delusional and if I had my way you'd be in prison."
"You killed Peter Parker. You have to pay for that."
"Oh please, like you even give a shit about Peter." She wondered if he even remembered who it was under Spider-Man's mask...or maybe he just didn't believe that it really could have been him, "Everything I've ever done is because I've been trying to make up for what happened to him, but you? Christ, you just keep on doing whatever you want and say it's because of justice. Give me a fucking break."
"And what do you do? You put on a mask every day acting like this city's your playground. You think this is all a joke, don't you? That as long as you wear that mask you never have to pay the consequences for the things you do." He pulled the handle of the rifle before slinging it over his shoulder, "I did what I had to so I could protect my family. Can you say the same?"
"Yeah, that's why you're doing it, huh? That's why put snakes in my house, why you spent years working for Stark's little PMC? Why you put innocent people's live at risk and turned yourself into a criminal? For them? Face it, Frankie, you're a nutjob, and if I see you anywhere near my dad and anyone else I care about I'll drag your ass to jail personally even if I have to unmask to do it."
She shook her head and swung out the open window. Why was she even arguing with him? He was a delusional psycho who thought everything he did was justified. The sooner they saved his family the better. At least then she wouldn't have to see his face again.
They left eventually, the address leading them to an abandoned apartment building. Gwen looked around the lobby warily: besides looking like it could use a good cleaning there was nothing odd she could say about it. It was normal...almost weirdly so considering this was a mafia venture. Hell her spider-sense hadn't tingled at all ever since they got here, and neither did Ben's if his complete silence was any indication, "It's quiet...too quiet," she mumbled.
"You know you just jinxed us, right?" Kate asked, the bow on her hands already half-drawn, "Any second now this building's going to explode or Red Skull's going to pop up and say he was behind everything just because you couldn't help the cliche."
"Quiet," Ben said, "...Something's not right. Where are the thugs? The bodyguards? Murdock wants to send a message to the Maggia and Castle's been hitting their rackets. There's no way that it could be this simple."
"Either way there's no point in waiting. I'll check on the elevator, see if it's still working."
"I'll go with you," Ben said, Castle nodding slightly before they both entered the small confines of the lift. She doubted it would work - it'd be a miracle if this place still had power given the state it was in - but she wouldn't-
Spider-sense.
Ben seemed to share her thoughts since his head snapped up. Unfortunately before he could do anything a large figure crashed through the roof of the elevator. Gwen just barely managed to see the red and white striped shirt they wore before the door closed and the sounds of struggling and what sounded like deep laughter came from inside.
"Spider-Man!" She rushed towards the elevator. Just as she was about to grab the door handles and pry them open her spider-sense warned her again and she jumped back. Landing on the floor in a crouch, she grimaced at the wall of fire that covered the front of the elevator, "How in the-"
An arrow whizzed over her head, knocking away the large throwing knife that would have hit her shoulder, "Spider-Woman, look out! She's-"
"Well, well. Didn't think we'd be getting heroes here!"
A woman landed from a higher floor, a pillar of fire following after her. Gwen gave her a quick look over: Red hair, leather clothes and one half of her face covered in white make-up. The manic grin on her face told her all she needed to know. She...oh god, she'd seen her on the news before: Mary Walker, dubbed by the Bugle as 'Typhoid Mary'. She could control fire and she'd been on a crime spree before Captain America stopped her.
Why in the fuck was she out of prison!?
"This wasn't what they hired me for, but..." She licked her lips and drew two knives, "I don't even care. This is going to be fun!"
Yeah...sorry. I know I said I was going to have the four work together, but I tried visualizing the fights in my head and I just couldn't do it :/Either way it's Noir and Castle vs The Russian along with Spider-Gwen and Kate Bishop vs Typhoid Mary. Should be...interesting, and give me some practice for the teamwork between the pairs.
I know the pairs seem really cliche, but there wasn't much I could do. I was tempted to put Gwen and Castle together but Frank is more or less tied to the Russian and I can't see Gwen really struggling overmuch unless she was really being dumb about fighting considering she's fought Scorpion and won earlier in the story. Noir and Castle provides a more balanced approach, and I did foreshadow them working together in the Hammerhead arc without payoff so this was a long time coming.
Anyway, another general question: Do you guys have any suggestions for filler/side villains specifically for Gwen? With Noir I already have a decent list but her it's kind of a blank. Oh, and don't suggest joke villains please; I need actual threatening ones. Vulture, Kraven and Sandman are also out due to plot reasons so...yeah, anyone else?
Answers:
Guest - Uh...yeah, put all that stuff on him and he's not likely to be able to move properly.
Piterio - Checked those over again, and I can refute them all: In the first time Peter used the web to pull himself up; the second time the wall panel had a gap he put his hand through and when grabbing the window he used both hands to grab the edges; and for the final one he was crouched on a ledge. No wall-crawling in any of them.
That and it's confirmed in Shattered Dimensions that he can't do it. When Madame Web gives him his new powers he thanks her since the web 'usually splatters everywhere' and when wall-crawling for the first time he mentions he could 'get used to it', more or less confirming he didn't have it beforehand. Also, I know about the web-swinging (such as it is), but it's useless due to how short range it is and like you said it's for slight speed and style points mostly.
As for romance, I'm doubtful. Noir's morally sound but he's not exactly charismatic or appealing in the general sense. Gwen's more likely to find a romancable person: I'm leaning towards Harry Osborn or Mary Jane Watson if it ever comes down to it.
Guest 2 - Er...really? I could argue that he's gotten worse since getting to Earth-65: He goes from threats and not crippling Rhino to dangling someone in front of a train and definitely kneecapping a helpless Hammerhead. Also, the chapter indicates that the dislike is becoming a bit more mutual since Gwen takes none of his shit and rebukes him when they dealt with Castle.
...Though I'm curious why you'd want to see them together. They don't have much chemistry.
Master-Xavier - Good to see you again :) The Supervillain approach won out, but hopefully you'll keep reading.
TighearnachCreag - Yeah, I got that you disagreed with the character, but thanks :) Still, I don't think he does blindly follow Murdock: He clearly makes plans with Felicia to turn on him and his spider-sense would warn him if Murdock was lying to him flat out. Also, he does constantly question why he does what he does though the answer of course boils down to 'it's the right thing to do and he's a good person'. He wouldn't be Spider-Man if he ignored a problem due to inconvenience.
Newworlds - Yes I read Web Warriors (shame it got cancelled since it set up a plot point for Noir), and I'm taking some characterization cues from his focus chapter in Issue 6. Besides Gwen I think he's the only one to get focus in such an individual manner.
Mingyu - Doesn't explain one thing: Why hasn't he aged? I know 18 is adult and all but I can safely say most people look different when they're 18 to when they're 23. Anyway, hope you're enjoying the Spider-Gwen comic :D Weapon of Choice helps explain the animosity she and Castle share.
SilverStormXD - Uh...if you mean 65-Silk then she's evil...also, why would it be fine? I highly doubt that BS spider pheromones thing bypasses alternate dimension counterparts. ...That and isn't she a bit old for him? She might not look (or act...) like it but Silk's 28; about a decade older than him. Any romance or fiiiinnneee things going on would be kinda weird...