There was an empty apartment in the heart of Manhattan – one of several throughout New York, in fact – that received a check for rent every month, despite the lack of any apparent residents. So long as he got his money, the landlord couldn't care less, which was exactly how Felicia liked it.

She slipped into the room, gently shutting the window behind her. Then, in a single stride, Felicia made her way to a bookshelf and kicked it over, revealing a reinforced steel door. A quick scan of her thumb caused it to slide into the ceiling, allowing Felicia to strut inside.

She was met with rows upon rows of white wigs, black skintight catsuits, and, most importantly, gadgets. Her bolas, her clawed gloves, her goggles… her gas-mask.

Felicia stared at the mask a moment. Like all her wardrobe, it was sleek and black, and it combined with her yellow goggles to suggest the shape of a cat face.

Felicia snapped it into place. Alright, step one was complete. Now all that was left was to find the man who killed Felicia's daddy. Hmm, but how to do it? Felicia supposed she could always wait around for him to find her. Surely she was sinful enough to meet his standards?

But… maybe there was a faster way. Felicia held a long fingernail above a pea-sized spider hidden in a dusty corner, then squished it.

Spider-Man's pulse pounded in his ears as he swung another lap around the perimeter of Central Park. He'd spent the past hour following the spider-tracer's signal, but it'd proved trickier than he'd hoped. Apparently, Sin-Eater liked to teleport every five seconds, and whenever he did, the tracer teleported with him. It didn't look like the guy could travel more than a couple meters at a time, but it was still enough to make Spidey's spider-sense all crisscrossed. It was starting to give him a major headache.

But then something caught Spidey's eye that helped him regain his concentration.

"Ha! Look at him twitch!" A group of upstanding young gentlemen had gathered in a secluded alleyway to take turns kicking an old man in the spine as they passed his wallet around.

"My turn! My turn!" One of the boys readied a swing to the old man's stomach… (Thwip) …only to have his foot caught on a web-line.

"Oh, you think that's funny?" said a voice from the wall behind them. "Then you'll find this hilarious."

The thug was sent tumbling leg-first into his buddies, knocking them over like bowling pins. The first one barely had time to pull himself to his feet before a fist to the chest sent him back to the pavement.

"What's wrong?" The thug made a different-pitched shriek each time Spider-Man kicked his stomach. "This joke made you laugh so hard a second ago!" Spider-Man raised his leg for another blow.

But he was stopped in his tracks by a scream. Spidey's head spun around to discover its source – the old man. The guy had grabbed his wallet and sprinted down the street with surprising speed, not even caring about the money the thugs had snatched.

"No, wait, sir, let me call an ambulance-" The man was already out of sight, leaving Spider-Man dazed. What… What had he been doing? Spidey glanced down to make sure his costume hadn't turned black.

Beating up these thugs had felt… good. It still felt good. Spider-Man had to fight the urge to resume doing it. He'd been so frustrated because of Daredevil and Sin-Eater... Was this how Sin-Eater felt?

Spider-Man jumped back onto the wall. A while ago, Peter had mused that even Osborn must have once looked himself in the mirror in his goblin costume and thought, "Yes. This is the right thing to do." Nobody thought of themself as the bad guy. Norman had thought he was getting even with his enemies, taking his rightful place in charge of Manhattan. Kraven had thought that hunting Spider-Man would prove his honor. Eddie had thought he was getting revenge for what Peter had done to him.

Spider-Man forced himself to take a breath. He'd considered all this before. This was why he used webs instead of billy clubs. Spider-Man wasn't a grim, badass vigilante who beat people within an inch of their lives – He was a silly adventurer who wore a goofy costume and sprayed criminals with goop. That was all he needed to be. Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

While Spidey pondered this, the thugs attempted to quietly pull themselves to their feet and sneak away. Thwip. They were pinned to the pavement by an offhand goop-glob.

"Yes, sir. Yes, I'm doing everything you've asked. No, I don't believe he does, sir."

Captain DeWolff was just returning her cellphone to her pocket when she lurched into her apartment. She'd thought her shift would never be over. Jean tossed her uniform's jacket wherever it happened to land. She'd never appreciated how much work George had done for the NYPD until he wasn't there to do it anymore.

Jean plopped down onto her mattress without so much as taking off her shoes. If her mom had seen what a pig sty Jean lived in, she'd have gone berserk. Of course, she'd have gone even more berserk if she'd known that her daughter's career would involve being shot at by gangsters on a regular basis.

Jean rested her head on a pillow sans pillowcase and tried not to let herself drown in her own guilt. Her eyelids grew heavy despite the street lamps burning outside her window. She hadn't bothered buying curtains – Jean could sleep through anything.

Anything, that is, except the sound of footsteps from across the bed.

"Jean DeWolff."

"What the hell?" Jean sprang upright to find herself in a pale green void.

"You have sinned." There was a figure in the gas. "You can hide it from your fellow officers, but you can't hide it from God. You can't hide it from me."

The pieces clicked into place – He'd found out she was leading the manhunt for him. Jean's eyes darted to the spot on the rug where she'd left her holstered gun. So did the Sin-Eater's.

There was sudden movement, ending with DeWolff thrown off the mattress and pinned to the floor, the Sin-Eater's hand on her neck. Whoever he was, he was strong.

"Don't try to struggle," the Sin-Eater whispered in her ear. "You're not blessed as the biblical Jacob was. You cannot prevail."

Jean tried to hold her breath, to stave off the gas as long as possible, but his gloved fingers were crushing her neck. The gas was already burning her skin. She had no choice. She had to… had to open her mouth.

Thwip. "Okay, something tells me you guys aren't being safe, sane, and consensual."

The next thing she knew, Jean was on the ceiling, being held in the arms of a man clad in red and blue. The gas hadn't yet risen this high, and so she risked some deep gasps of air.

"Sorry I didn't get here sooner. Didn't realize what our hungry friend was planning at first." Spider-Man did an upside down nod towards a shattered window, which had presumably granted him entry. "I'm gonna be smarter this time. No direct confrontation. Let's focus on getting you out of here." Spider-Man made a sudden swoop for the window, sending Jean's heart reeling, but at the last second, a cloaked figure blocked the way.

"You can't run from God's will, sinner." Sin-Eater's voice held an uncanny tranquility. He shot more gas from his palm, forcing Spider-Man to tumble out of harm's way. "He sent me here to punish you for your transgressions."

"Look, I told Thor I was sorry I couldn't go drinking last Friday!" Spider-Man was forced to duck another gas-spray. "He is really overreacting."

"If you knew what the woman in your arms has done, you wouldn't be so quick to defend her." As he spoke, the Sin-Eater crept around the room, waiting for Spidey to make a move. "Or perhaps you are aware, and you've chosen to defend her regardless. Either way, you must answer to God."

"I try to keep my quips secular, but-" A line of webbing latched itself to Sin-Eater's skeletal face. "-at the risk of sounding like a fedora-wearer, I'm almost starting to think you're not really an angel of death sent by God to reap my soul."

A quick yank sent the skull flying off Sin-Eater's body – or rather, it sent the green skull mask flying off his head, revealing the face of an angel of death who looked suspiciously like a totally ordinary human.

"Stan!" DeWolff cried out in spite of the gas enveloping her. "But- But how- Why-?"

"Stan Carter is dead!" Naturally, the dude was immune to his own poison gas, so all removing his mask had done was encourage him to rant and rave even more. "He died alongside George Stacy so that his flesh could serve a higher purpose. I am the one who will make the world right again. I am the one who reaped the lives of Egypt's firstborns. I am the Sin-Eater!"

"And I'm Emperor Nap-" Spidey's quip turned into a coughing fit halfway through. "Okay, okay..." He turned to DeWolff. "Gas is getting a little thick for my liking. This'll be the hardest thing I've ever done, but…" He took one last, burning breath. "I'm gonna stop talking now." With that, he used each of his web-shooters to cover both his and DeWolff's mouth and nostrils.

Of course, Spidey's brain started freaking out the moment it realized he couldn't breathe, but it was preferable to inhaling any more poison. Spidey set DeWolff down and swung his fists at the bad guy, but old Sinny merely teleported out of harm's way again. It was no use. The fog was Carter's element. In here, he could be wherever he wanted, dodge as fast as he wanted. And what's worse, Spider-Man had just come up with the funniest quip of his career! What a waste!

Thwip, thwip, thwip. Spidey frantically fired his webs, but Sin-Eater kept on teleporting. It was no good. Spidey's head was getting woozy. He'd already held his breath for way too long. Maybe… Maybe Carter really was an angel of death… the way he moved… Spider-Man couldn't focus… and he could only imagine DeWolff felt the same. He couldn't fail her… He couldn't… fail… again...

But then a second figure emerged from the fog. For a brief, frenzied moment, Spidey thought it was Daredevil. As thematically appropriate as that would've been, it actually turned out to be a certain slender lady in a tight black outfit.

"What-? Where did you-?" Carter fired his gas at her, but to no effect. Between the woman's sleek black mask and glowing yellow goggles, she seemed totally unhindered by his powers. He tried to teleport away, but she moved like lightning. The crack of her heel colliding with his head reverberated around the apartment.

Black Cat probably said a really great one-liner at this point, but Spider-Man wasn't able to hear it as everything went dark around him.

"Ugh," said DeWolff, "I just had my place fumigated last week."

Shortly after Sin-Eater was KO'ed, the whole apartment complex had been evacuated so that its tenants could be replaced with hazmat workers. Spider-Man and Captain DeWolff had gathered at the back of an ambulance in the parking lot to suck pure, precious oxygen from a matching pair of rebreathers (The rescue workers had been courteous enough to allow Spider-Man's mask to remain on, merely rolling it back to expose his mouth).

DeWolff gave the Web-Head a look. "You sure you don't need a ride to the hospital?"

"Nah, I'm good," said Spidey. "I heal quick."

"Well, thank you Spider-Man." DeWolff met the white lenses of his mask's eyes. "If it wasn't for you, they'd be burying me next to George right now. Maybe..." She took a breath. "...he was right to trust you."

"Well, don't give me all the credit." Spider-Man nodded to a certain catsuit-and-white-wig wearing woman standing across from the ambulance. "We'd both be dead if it wasn't for Cat. Though I don't know how she managed to find us..."

"I figured you'd be hunting Sin-Eater, too," said Black Cat. "And you're a lot easier to track than he is. I just followed the trail of webs you litter everywhere."

"Hey, those disintegrate after an hour! I'm not a Captain Planet villain." Spidey gave her a look. "Look, Felicia, it's not that I don't appreciate the save, but… you still need to go to jail."

At this, Black Cat bowed her head. She'd removed her gas mask and goggles, revealing that she wasn't wearing makeup for once. Maybe that was why she looked more… real, somehow. "I only wanted to ensure my father's killer was brought to justice. I'll be in my cage soon enough." Cat nodded to the handcuffs around her wrists. "Two men are dead because of me. Because I was greedy and stupid." Her voice shook. "This- This was the only way I knew how to atone, but I don't feel any different now. Their blood's still on my hands and I don't know how to wash it off."

Spider-Man hesitated. "You can't," he said, "but that doesn't mean you should ever stop trying. A good man once told me that with great power comes great responsibility."

At this, Black Cat let out a bitter laugh. "Who told you a boy scout thing like that? Captain America?"

"Close." Behind his mask, Peter smiled. "What it means is, you should find a way to use your talents to help people. Something to think about while you're serving your time."

"Yeah, yeah..." After that, some officers led Black Cat away. She was given the honor of sharing a police van with Carter.

"Get this inhibitor collar off of me! I'm not a damn freak!" His voice was audible from the outside. "I was blessed with these powers by THE LORD."

"Gosh," came the voice of an officer, "then I guess God planted all these records we found in your apartment saying you let Tricorp experiment on you…"

Alone again, Spidey returned his attention to DeWolff. "Man, everyone's a supervillain these days. Worst fad ever."

For a moment, the pair sucked their oxygen in silence. "Stan was always a hothead," DeWolff finally said, "but if he was letting Tricorp turn him into one of their super-mercenaries, I guess he'd gone off the deep end even before we lost George…" She bowed her head. "Stan's the one who fired the warning shot that spooked Walter Hardy in the first place. He's as guilty as Hardy's daughter. I took away his badge over that."

"And he wanted to kill you for petty revenge?" Spider-Man snorted. "Figures. Anyways, hopefully this'll discourage any other aspiring Frank Castle wannabees." With that, he tossed aside his rebreather and fired a web-line to a nearby building. "I gotta get going. Maybe we'll grab a coffee sometime. Continue the relationship Captain Stacy started between the NYPD and the FNSM."

DeWolff looked bemused. "FNSM?"

"The 'F' stands for 'Friendly!'" Spider-Man called down as he swung away.

DeWolff was left shaking her head.

In the end, Black Cat wasn't as far gone as Spider-Man had thought. She was at least capable of feeling remorse, and that was the first step to redemption. Spidey wished her well, but to be honest, he wasn't sure he ever wanted to see her again. He certainly couldn't think of her as a mere flirtatious burglar anymore. It wasn't entirely Felicia's fault, though. Her father had raised her to be a criminal, and Spider-Man knew that the influence of your father was a tough thing to shake off. Harry had taught him that.

Just as Spidey was swinging above the apartment building, he caught sight of someone on the neighboring rooftop.

"Daredevil!" Spider-Man touched down beside his fellow crime-fighter. "Where have you been?"

"I… struggled to find a proper gas mask on short notice." Daredevil held up a flimsy hospital mask. "Spider-Man, the truth is, when it comes to supervillains, you're more capable than me. I can manage local street-level crime, but I don't have your strength or speed. I can't swing from Chinatown to here in under an hour. If I tried to fight someone like the Rhino, I'd get myself killed." He let out another of his pained sighs. "Jean DeWolff would be dead right now if not for you. I can't stomach seeing children endanger themselves, but…" He trailed off. "You sure you want to commit your life to this?"

"That's not it at all." Spider-Man shook his head. "I'll admit it can be fun, but I don't put on the tights because I want to. I do it because it's my responsibility."

"I see." Daredevil looked out at the sunset over the Hudson. "So then nothing I do or say could change your mind?"

"Yeppers."

"In that case..." For the first time, Daredevil's red lenses met Spidey's white ones. "I've heard you've crossed paths with a certain crime lord."

"Oh?" Spider-Man's ears perked up.

The Daily Bugle's newsroom was awash with the upbeat humming of one J. Jonah Jameson. Robbie was resisting the urge to roll his eyes when someone came up behind him.

"What's JJ so happy about?"

"Oh, hey, Rand." Robbie turned to face his son, smiling. "Jameson's all excited because Parker emailed him some photos."

"'Some photos?'" scoffed Jameson from his desk. "I'll have you know these are top quality pics of the Sin-Eater attacking that nice philanthropist Wilson Fisk!" In an undertone, he added, "With help from Spider-Man, obviously."

"So, Rand, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Robbie gave his boy a pat on the arm.

"Well..." At this, Rand fidgeted. "You know how I broke up with Sally last March? And you know that really cool girl I met immediately afterwards?"

Robbie grinned. "You might have mentioned her once or twice."

"Well… she's my girlfriend now, and we thought it was time to introduce you to her." With that, Rand ushered the girl into the room.

"Hey, Mr. Robertson." She was pretty- no, beautiful. And rich. Her purple shawl looked expensive and her wrist jewelry looked expensive and her shoes looked the most expensive of all. Even the phone she was busy texting away on appeared to be the latest Osberry model. At a glance, she looked every bit as spoiled as Sally. Guess Rand had a type.

But that wasn't what caused Robbie's grin to vanish.

"Dad, this is Janice." As he spoke, Rand's hands interlocked with hers. "We, uh, actually didn't come here just for introductions, though."

"I'm having a birthday party on my daddy's yacht this Friday!" Janice vibrated with excitement. "It's gonna be great. But we wanted to ask your permission for Rand to come since we'll be sailing around all weekend and stuff."

The couple looked at Robbie expectantly.

"I-I'll have to think about it," Robbie managed.

"Cool." Suddenly, Janice's phone buzzed. "Ooh, that'll be Daddy. He's my ride home. Nice meeting you, Mr. Robertson!" She gave Rand one last hug before scurrying out the door.

Jameson had planted his eyes out the window. "Her dad's got a limo down there." He whistled. "She's a keeper, kid."

Rand, however, was busy giving his father an indignant stare. "What do you mean, you have to think about it?"

"Son, can I talk to you?" Robbie pulled him aside by the shoulder. Then he said in an undertone, "This girl of yours… you ever get her last name?"

"Yeah, Dad, I've only known her for months now," Rand huffed. "She's Janice L-" His breath caught in his throat. "Lincoln. Janice Lincoln. Oh."

Robbie nodded. "Mmm hmm."

"Heard you fought him last Valentine's Day and lived," Daredevil continued. "How do you feel about that crime lord?"

"I keep staring at his teeth," said Spider-Man. "I feel terrible for his dentist."

"He made bail last time." The slightest hint of a smile crossed Daredevil's face. "How'd you like to help me give him a more permanent trip to prison?"

Captain DeWolff glanced around at the ambulances. The rescue workers were preoccupied evacuating the residents of the apartment complexes. Perfect.

After a minute, DeWolff retrieved her phone from her pocket. "Sir? Good news, Sin-Eater won't be bothering you anymore. Anything else you want me to make Spider-Man do?"

The chauffeur shut the limo door as Janice buckled her seatbelt. She smiled at the man seated across from her, who was putting away his phone.

"Well, aren't you dolled up?" The man brought a pale hand to the jewelry on the girl's wrist. "You look so much like your mother."

"Thanks for the ride, Daddy," said Janice. "I know the Bugle's not your favorite place ever..."

"That's nothing to concern yourself with, Janice." The man grinned, revealing a set of teeth filed to points. "Anything for my little girl."