It felt like it had taken forever. His sides had ached with each pull on a webline in the way that told him there were bones grinding against each other. He'd ended up travelling by foot as much as possible then after a quick stop at the heavily guarded but still mostly empty at this time of night Mosby Chemicals for some supplies, he'd hitched a secret ride on top of a tour bus. Usually he hated leaving the city, and why wouldn't he? There was no place he'd rather be. This time though, maybe some distance between him and the place that was most important to him was for the best.

He wished he'd had his phone with him. Maybe if he had he could have used the GPS to better gauge where he was in relation to his destination or set an alarm so he could at least nap for a while on the way up. He really could have used one. Instead he'd been stuck on the roof of a 'Niagara Bound!' bus, reading exit signs as he tried to keep both a low profile and his teeth from chattering in the chilly wind that came with highway speeds outside the protection of a car.

Or a bus.

Halfway up he'd considered knocking on the driver's window and asking for a blanket, but not only would it have been useless, it also could have resulted in a fiery bus crash and he'd been front row at enough explosions for one day, thank you very much. Instead he'd just dealt with it as he counted the exits and wished Johnny Storm had been around to give him a lift, it would have resulted in horrible third degree burns because the guy would have been a bastard about it, but you win some you lose some. When he finally saw the sign he'd been looking for he'd stood himself up slowly, trying to circulate some life into his cold-stiffened joints and leapt.

Now on a normal day, leaping from a bus at 80 miles per hour would have been no big deal, just another jump for your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Today was anything but normal and he was far away from his usual friendly neighborhoods. Instead of a graceful landing, maybe with a nice crouch and an extended arm for extra flair, he'd bounced. Not once, not twice, not even three times, each impact driving the air from his lungs in a string of curses that he knew would have earned him a series of increasingly disapproving stares from his Aunt May if she were here right now. He laid there now, sucking in lungfuls of air as cars sped by on the highway and wondered if maybe he could have gotten what he needed without the bus trip.

He knew that hadn't been an option though, this was just how it had to be. Just like he now had to push himself back to his feet, wincing as his broken ribs protested the movement. Just like he'd had to make his way across the busy road when there was a break in the cars, just like he had to travel the rest of the way by foot to reach his destination.

One car, alone on the road, had taken note of him as he'd left the highway. He was clued in by its screeching stop and the shout of "Oh my gawd, Johnny! What the hell is that thing?!" Before the driver had mashed her foot back down on the peddle and zoomed away. This, he thought to himself, was how stories of cryptids started, wasn't it? He still didn't understand why they'd had their windows open, but maybe he was biased having made his entire commute on someone else's roof.

It was fine now though, it had been one of the worst bus rides he'd ever taken, but he'd finally reached his destination. It sat nestled cozily up against the Delaware River: The Gabriel Foster Nuclear Plant. He sucked in a breath and surveyed the area. There were cameras of course, there were cameras everywhere nowadays, but they were easy enough to avoid as long as you avoided blind corners. There was a guard in a small shack at the gate, leaning back and snoring in a plush office chair that looked like it had been saved from the dumpster at the last moment, an array of monitors going completely unmonitored in front of him and sliding window kept closed to aid the climate control in its battle against the elements. There would be more inside of course, most likely loaded for bear, it was amazing he'd made it this far without encountering anyone on patrol. There was a lot more ground to cover once you were past the gate though, that was probably where they kept most of their forces.

"Hell with it." He weblined up and over the wall and sprinted across the paved ground of the compound until he reached the relative safety of the shadow of a building where he waited. After he was confident there was no armed response to his trespass, he quickly made his way to the largest main building, staying up above the ground where possible and staying in darkness where it wasn't. It was honestly a little bit disconcerting how easily he'd managed to infiltrate the place, although it wasn't likely they had a lot of people with superpowers making a run here, there was probably a separate response team available in case they caught one though. Guess he'd have to be careful not to get caught, he probably would still be able to do what he needed to either way, but his PR was in the dumpster as it was. The smart thing to do was what he'd been doing, keeping things quiet as long as possible for as long as possible, maybe even get in and out with nobody the wiser. There would be guard patrols inside, probably a couple of late-night pencil pushers and technicians, but neither was probably in the habit of checking the ceiling for intruders.

Hopefully.

The front entrance didn't have anybody posted outside, but he could see through the glass that there was a manned guard station, probably cameras covering the doors as well. There was a possibility that he could slip in without the guard seeing, and if he were lucky he'd do it at a time that nobody had their eye on the right screen, but there was no point in tempting fate. There had to be a better way, and there was, he couldn't believe he was this lucky.

Three stories up, Rick Pritchard and Donnie Walnoski were having a cigarette break. Technically speaking it was against regulation to be doing so, but literally speaking Rick knew his boss was schlepping a secretary and that was also against regulation, so they'd come to terms with the fact a long time ago that the two cancelled each other out.

"I'm tellin' ya Don, they don't make 'em like they used to."

"They don't make what?" Donnie only smoked when he was on duty, more to give himself something to do when Rick took his little breaks.

"Sci-fi shows, man! You look back a coupla decades you've got your Star Trek, your Babylon 5, your Farscape, smart stuff, ya know? Nowadays there's nothin' like it." It was something he'd been frustrated with for a long time. He remembered sitting on his grandfather's knee and watching episodes of TNG together, but the stuff they aired these days? Grampy Sean probably would have sent the TV flying out the window of his fifth floor walk-up.

"That's the one with the blue chick, right?"

"Donnie, they all had…" Trying to explain these things to Donnie Walnoski was like trying to explain proper table etiquette to a hamster, he'd probably stare at you with rapt attention and then start eating his own shit once you left the room. "Yeah, it's the one with the blue chick."

Donnie nodded his head, satisfied that he'd demonstrated his knowledge. "You know, Star Trek is still on though, they've got reruns on Netflix and there's that new show on CBS, Dysentery or whatever it is. I actually watched a few episodes, it's pretty good stuff."

Rick pursed his lips. Donnie was his best friend, the exact guy you wanted in your corner in a fight while still being the nicest guy he knew, but sometimes...

"Don, you keep saying stuff like that and you're gonna hafta find a new best man for next year."

Donnie shrugged as they both flicked their still glowing butts into the darkness and turned to head in, letting Rick swipe his access card before they both walked in.

They hadn't taken three steps before Rick turned, dropping his hand to the handgun on his hip.

"What's up?"

"The door. It took longer to close than usual." He stalked forward, swiping his card to open it again and cracked it open, peering outside.

"Probably the wind, man. Come on, we gotta go check in."

Rick took a few more suspicious looks around, even glancing up at the ceiling, then nodded.

"Yeah, probably the wind."

That, Peter thought to himself as he watched the guards amble away having a one-sided conversation about the state of science-fiction over the years, was beautifully executed. There had been a moment when he was sure it was all about to go legs up when he'd gone to skitter out of view behind their back and laid his hand on an overhead sprinkler rather than ceiling, but it had held his weight.

"Finally, a positive example of our tax dollars at work."

It had been built far more sturdily than the one in his first apartment, that one had certainly not held the weight of a far younger, far lighter Peter. Building management had not been pleased with the flooding and subsequent cleanup cost of the mysterious exploding fire sprinkler. Peter hadn't been either, the water running through those pipes was… Disgusting was too nice a word.

This wasn't the time to sit and reflect on the past though, he had a job to do and tonight might be his last chance to do it. He kept going on, staying up on the ceiling as to hopefully avoid the eyes of any late night workers who might happen to glance into the hallway. So far so good as long as nobody looked upwards, then he might have to call the paramedics for a heart attack victim. Seeing large shapes crawling at speed across the ceiling didn't tend to do anyone any favors, especially if they had a preexisting heart condition.

He seemed to be in an office area, it was unsurprising that one was here, a lot of forms in triplicate and rubber stamps probably had to make their way around the place. Luckily as well as a lot of paperwork, there were also a lot of signs telling you what hallway led where, and the signs he was following brought him through a heavy pair of doors and into a large open area where thinned office carpet gave way to bare concrete. Mindful of cameras and keeping clear of the stairs that, if his time as an assistant at a chemical engineering firm had taught him anything, would have some poor overworked employee catching 40 quick winks sprawled out on a landing, he made his way downwards towards an area marked as main reactors signs warning about general health, specific radiation, and the imminent danger of death and dismemberment.

"No need to worry," He'd reached an imposingly large door, all thick heavy metal and large bolts, probably extending far into the wall, to keep it closed when they wanted to keep it closed. "Probably just regular old signs, like the warning labels on silica gel. Nobody actually eats it right? It's just there for liability reasons, right?"

He really hoped so. He'd finally come around to the idea of having kids and didn't like the idea of losing the ability to do so. Yeah, good stuff, no need to worry. One thing he did have to worry about was the door in front of him. It was probably inches thick, just looking at it was enough to give one the feeling of immense heaviness. He could break through it. Probably. Rip the big bastard off its hinges and stroll through without a care in the world. He would have lots of cares after that though, an entire military rapid-response team's worth.

This entire idea had been stupid, it was desperate and unproven, there was no guarantee that it would even work but here he was breaking into a nuclear power plant in the hopes of stealing radioactive material. God, if this got out there were certain part of the media that would have a field day with that. He could see the headlines now: Spider-Man Nabs Nuclear Material. Is The Wall-Crawler A Terroritst Whack-Job?! JJJ at his worst couldn't have hoped for a better newsday. Compared to the inevitable accusations that would be thrown around when- If he was caught. What he was going to do next was a child's prank.

Literally.

There was a large button, red of course as these things tended to be, locked in a case behind a thick sheet of glass. Attached was a small hammer, coming to a narrow point on one end which Peter picked up as he dropped to the ground. If this wasn't on camera he would be surprised, but time was anything but on his side at this point. He smashed the glass, punched the button and clambered quickly up the wall, gritting his teeth as strobes attached to the walls and ceiling started flashing and an alarm klaxon started wailing. If he hadn't had a headache before then he certainly had one now.

There was a certain guilty thrill coursing through his veins at the fact that he'd basically just pulled the fire alarm in a nuclear facility. He'd had to pull the fire alarm to get people out of danger before, but it had never been labelled for use in case of radiation leak or danger of meltdown. This was the kind of high he'd be chasing the rest of his life which, if he was lucky, wouldn't consist of the next few hours.

There was a deep hum as the thick door next to him slowly groaned open, sliding into the wall and digorging a small group of reedy, birdlike men and women dressed in labcoats and talking worriedly amongst themselves. They were in such a rush that nobody bothered to look behind them as they hurried away to find the source of this supposed problem or the fastest means of escape, allowing him to slip in from above without being noticed. It was one of the nice things about being able to scale sheer walls and wait on the ceiling: People almost never bothered looking up. The only thing usually up there were cobwebs anyway.

The lights were down inside, most of the illumination came from blinking computer consoles, monitors, and dull red emergency lighting, all a sign that this was not a place you were supposed to be right now. He was still able to make out the various bits of signage telling him where he was and where he could go from here. After a bit of careful reading he followed them to the diagnostics area and the outbound coolant lines from the main reactor. His gloved fingers ran across the console as he searched for the right combination of buttons he needed to press in order to divert some used coolant into a test tube.

Under normal circumstances this would be used to test various fluids for the required purity, making sure that there was no contamination that could interfere with the cooling ability and prevent any weak point that could lead to a meltdown, the likes of which there were a group of highly-educated scientists currently on a wild-goose chase for. In this particular circumstance, however, it would be used to almost kill himself. The word almost doing most of the work there he hoped. He pulled the thickly padded web pouch he'd fashioned for his injection device from the small of his back and tore it open, dipping the needle tip into the irradiated sterile water and watching as it sucked it into its fluid reservoir. It was just water of course, plain, sterile water that just happened to have been bombarded with large quantities of high-energy particles that, once injected, would start causing the DNA of his cells to start decaying at a rapid pace. Not the first time it had happened, probably not the last either, but man, there was a lot of water there. Certainly more than the dose of spider-venom that had first given him his powers and with them his responsibilities. Now it was mixed into a carrier solution that would help his body to absorb as much of it as quickly as possible. Why did he think this was a good idea again?

The answer was as bleak as it was clear, he didn't have any other options. He could try to inject Morlun in a moment he was vulnerable and maybe it would work, but if it didn't then he was back to square one, and square one was looking real shaky right now. If the down low and dirty testing he'd done with the extremely contaminated sample of blood held true though, Morlun was actually absorbing the entirety of his prey, and that meant he would absorb the radiation too. The big question was whether or not Morlun's regeneration factor was as good as Peter's and the only thing he could do about that right now was hope that the answer was no. Hell, without the right equipment to measure the load of radiation present there was no guarantee his healing factor would be able to keep pace with the DNA mutating and unravelling throughout his own body.

He tapped a finger against the injection device once he'd swirled it around, he was no centrifuge but this would have to do for now, it all looked pretty well mixed at least. He webbed it back up into a pouch, taking special care to add extra padding around the glass vial that could cause irreparable harm to whatever it spilled its contents over if it were breached, and carefully stuck it to the small of his back. He had what he came for now, and aside from any possible heart attacks or tinnitus from the still blaring warning klaxon, nobody had gotten hurt.

It was time to leave.

As crazy as it sounded, getting out of the highly secure building was conveniently much easier than getting in, a relief as the day started to catch up to him. He'd managed to get a few minutes of welcome rest at the apartment, but he'd been going at what felt like over 100% for longer than even he could manage without starting to feel it.

"One way or another, Pete, this is all gonna be over soon."

He didn't bother going into details on the many different ways it could be over: His potentially succumbing to radiation poisoning, the radiation not having the desired effect on Morlun, and he was sure there were more but right now he was just too tired to think about them right now. He didn't realize just how soon things would be over until he'd jumped over the outside wall of the compound, having easily avoided the people milling about either screaming at each other in an effort to find out who had pulled the alarm or rushing towards their vehicles in an effort to get away from a danger that wasn't there. They had no idea as they zoomed down the smoothly paved road towards the highway that they were passing right by something far more dangerous than a false alarm. As the sun peeked it face over the eastern horizon, giving Peter some semblance of light to make his way through the densely wooded area between him and the road, that danger discovered Peter.

"Spider." It was barely a word, it was a wet, drawn-out hiss coming from the still shadowed side of the trees above him. "I promised that I'd find you."