Chapter Twenty-Three

Five years ago I was ten years old, and still at the age of comic books and Barbie dolls. It had been cold, very cold, and the last snowfall for years covered the streets in watery slush.

I am in the living room, sitting on the rug and building a Lego spaceship from tiny pieces scattered over the floor. Benny, three years old and smiling as always, is hopping around singing along to a Chipmunks Christmas tape. The tree is small and bright. If you squint hard enough, the little lights can turn into stars.

From the other room, I hear, "Pete, wait."

I look up from my Legos.

"What?"

"Only...can you skip work for tonight?"

Mom and Dad are talking. I would go back to my toys, but for some reason I stop and listen.

"It's Christmas Eve. Can't it wait?"

"MJ," Dad says wearily. That's what he calls Mom. "MJ, I can't. You know that."

Mom's voice drops to a tense whisper. "Pete, look at yourself! You're a wreck. You haven't slept properly for almost a month."

I hear a clattering from the front hall. It sounds like Dad is picking up his cameras.

"Please, just take a break. You have a life outside all of that now. You can't be there all of the time. You don't deserve to have to do this!"

I get up and go to the door. Mom and Dad stand in front of the door, Mom seeming to be pleading, Dad shaking his head, not meeting her eyes.

"I have a feeling, that's all. Don't go out tonight. You don't have any reason to." Mom takes his arm. "He's dead, Peter. He's dead and it's over. It's all over."

"No," Dad says shortly, running his fingers back through his hair. "It's not over. I don't know if it'll ever be over."

"Pete..."

They hug. I can see Mom's face over Dad's shoulder, her eyes shut, the line of her mouth wavering. Then she opens her eyes.

"Mayday?"

"What's going on?" I ask in a small voice.

Dad lets go of Mom and turns around. "Oh, uh...I'm just going out for awhile."

He has never been good at lying.

Mom casts a weary look at me, but nods assent. Dad looks as if he wants to come and hug me too, but he says, "I'll only be gone for a little while. See you later, Mayday."

Then he is gone.

"Pete! Peter, wait!" Mom rushes to the door and pulls it open, but the sidewalk and street are completely empty. "Pete..."

The next morning, I wake up and run downstairs, expecting to see Benny already surrounded by a mountain of wrapping paper, Mom and Dad grinning and urging Benny to make funny faces for the camera.

But all I see, once I slide down the banister and run into the living room, is an unplugged tree with a pile of wrapped presents underneath.

I go into the den. Mom is sitting on the couch, her back to me, facing the back door. Benny is standing in front of her, his three-year-old face looking ready to burst into tears.

I know why.

"Where's Daddy?" I ask.

And it had been on that Christmas that I learned that life wasn't all fun and games, that we wouldn't always be together, and that now something had happened to us, and we were broken.

Thunder crashed. The storm was coming closer. Winter thunderstorms were unusual around here, but not unheard of.

"What?" the man asked, taking a step backwards. The light from the single bulb glinted off of his nametag for a second, and I saw the word DOE. I couldn't see his face through the mirrored faceplate, but I would have known that voice a hundred years from now.

"It's me, Daddy," I repeated. I had fought against tears for a long time, training myself never to cry, to stay strong. It had become a necessary skill since Dad had vanished. I had had to stay strong for Mom, and for Benny.

But tears were coming now.

My father, my own father, was standing in front of me.

And he did not know who I was.

I lost my grip on the gun, and was vaguely aware of Doc catching it. I stepped forward, ripping the biohazard helmet off my head to reveal my mask, then pulled my mask off. "I...I took after you."

I didn't worry about showing my face; I didn't care that if Doc took one step forwards he would see me. My father, my dad...

The man, Peter Parker, took another step backwards. "I...I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not married, I don't have any kids, I-"

"You do! Oh god, Dad, don't you remember? Remember Mom? And Benny? And your Aunt May? She died a few months after you disappeared, the doctors didn't know why...Daddy, please!"

I didn't care that Doc was standing right there, hearing every word, that I was risking exposing my identity. It didn't matter, anyhow; without my powers, what did I have to lose?

"Dad, you've got to remember!" My voice rose uncontrollably. "Remember Christmas Eve? You never came home! I didn't know what was going on! You just disappeared! Because you went out to be Spider-Man!"

Dad and Doc gasped at the same time.

"Spider-Man?" Dad spat. "What the...what are you talking about? I'm not Spider-Man! Are you crazy? That man was a criminal! He was insane! He was a murderer!"

"Is that what they told you? Is that what they've been telling you all these years?" I yelled. "She poisoned you! She took your memory and your powers! To get even!"

"What are you talking about?" Dad shouted.

"Garcia! Black Widow!"

"Dr. Garcia? You're lying," Dad said flatly. "She's second-in- command. Two. I know she's got some problems, but-"

"Got some problems?" I repeated, aghast. "Got some problems? Dad, she's a monster! She wrecked the Midtown tunnel! She burned down an apartment building in the Bronx! She's trying to get the Osborn performance enhancer! She almost killed Mom! Dad, she's-"

"Stop calling me that!" Dad yelled, his grip on the gun faltering. "I'm not your father! I've never seen you before in my life! I don't know who you are! I'm just a guard! Doe! John Doe!"

"Why can't you remember?" I asked, pleading, tears streaming down my face. "Why can't you remember anything, Dad? Why can't you try? You're Spider-Man! You're my father!"

Dad backed away, into the shadows of the second grille. "St-stay where you are. Don't move."

"Daddy!" I shrieked.

Dad froze, the gun shaking in his hands. "I...I'm not...I can't be..."

A siren howled, "Alpha-three-eight-one! Alpha-three-eight-one! Intruder alert! Sector Four guards report to loading dock immediately! Intruder alert!"

No one made a sound. All of us stood there, completely frozen. Then Dad said, weakly, "They know you're here."

I knew.

"They'll find you."

They would.

Dad took another step backwards. The room was soundless but for the distant wail of the alarm.

"Get out of here the way you came in. Hurry up and go."

"You...you're letting us go?" Doc asked.

Dad jerked his head at the door. "What do you want? An official document? Get out of here!"

A horrible, wrenching feeling had started somewhere inside me. He was telling us to get away, to escape and leave him behind.

After all of these five years of sorrow and fear and worry, I had found my father. He had been so close, all of this time. And yet so unreachably far. Gone. Forever.

I slowly pulled my mask on and turned to Doc.

"Do you have the formula for the antidote in your lab?"

"No."

"No?" I said. "What? Why not?"

"Because Black Widow destroyed the comp network! I saw her! She took the antidote!" Doc said. "The actual antidote!"

"So it's somewhere inside this place," I said. "This whole place. Great."

"In the lab," Dad said quietly. "If you're talking about a chemical, it'll be in the lab."

Doc whirled around. "What lab? Where?"

Dad hesitated.

"Doe," Doc said. "The life of more than one person depends on that antidote. Spider-Girl says that you're her father, and I believe her. If there's any shred of the real Spider-Man left in you you'll know that what I say is true, and what's going on here is wrong."

"I don't know what's going on here. I just...I just do my job."

"Then do it, Spider-Man. Do your duty."

The seconds ticked by. Thunder crashed again. I couldn't see Dad's face, only the gun trembling in his hands.

"The lab...it's on the other side of the complex. On the east dock. Level B-9. Now go. I don't want to see either of you again."

Dad turned around and walked with forced slowness to the door, past it, and into the corridor.

He turned right and vanished.

Vanished for the second time.

"Spider-Girl," Doc said.

"What," I replied dully.

"I'm...I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," I said. I didn't move. The siren wailed again, snapping me into a type of empty awareness. I had to get Doc out of here to safety, and I had to find that antidote. I had to do my job. I had to be Spider-Girl, the hero.

Then I could cry.

"We'll use the glider. Let's go. Run!"

We ran, sprinting out through the doors and turning a sharp left into the massive corridor. The light from the docking platform was mockingly distant.

CLICKCLICKCLICKCLICK!

I had heard that sound before.

"Doc! Stop! Don't move!"

We both froze in midstep. "What? What happened?"

"Shhh!" I hissed. "Don't move. Don't even breathe."

CLICKCLICKCLICKCLICK...CLICK...CLICK...

My breath caught in my lungs as the clanking of pointed legs on steel grating echoed down the corridor, and the sound of serrated mandibles clicking together.

"Spiderbots."

"Spider what?"

"Shhh!"

I had frozen off-balance, with only one foot on the ground and the heel of my left foot an inch above the floor. My leg muscles strained. In a few seconds, I would lose my balance and the spiderbots would be on me.

CLICK...CLICK...CLICK...

I heard mandibles snapping and pickaxe legs clanging against the steel grating. They were behind us, and coming closer with slow, deliberate steps. The square of light from the platform glimmered.

"Doc."

"You've got a plan?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Great," Doc said, barely moving his jaw. "What is it?"

"When I say run, you run," I said.

"That's your plan?"

"Do what my dad...what he said. Get across the platform and find the antidote. You have to get it to Harry."

"And what about you?"

"Forget me," I said harshly. "Now go. Run!"

"But-"

"Now!" I roared.

I didn't feel any fear. I just said what I had to say, did what I had to do. Deadened.

"Hey! Hey, you! Come on, you little junk heaps! Come and get me!" I whirled around to face them as Doc took off in a sprint.

Five spiderbots were there, at varying distances. Five dully glittering androids crouched and scuttled forwards, razored jaws opening and closing slowly.

I waved my arms over my head and yelled, "Yeah! You see me, don't you? Come on, you freaks!"

I stumbled backwards, still yelling. The spiderbots advanced, now in perfect syncopation.

Despair.

Maybe it was desperation.

I had nothing. No powers, no weapons, no plan. I was about to die.

The first spiderbot sprang.

I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAMBLAMBLAM!

Metal shrieked and shattered. I opened my eyes. At my feet was the twisted wreckage of the first spiderbot, still smoking and covered in bullet holes. I stared down the corridor, astonished. Doc was standing there, looking almost as surprised as I was, and holding the gun. He yelled, "Look out!"

"Aaaah!" I dove to the side as the second spiderbot pounced. I tripped and tumbled into the remains of the first android, yelping as my ankle twisted agonizingly. The other four spiderbots whirled and crept forward, mandibles snapping.

My hand fumbled and came up clutching the base of the unfortunate robot's razor jaws. The second spiderbot scuttled forward and I slashed wildy.

SCREEEEEEE!

The spiderbot lurched backwards, flailing its front legs. I jerked backward just as one jerked in front of my face. A long, jagged line sliced across the robot's curved motion sensor.

The spiderbot blundered backwards into the third and fourth, still screeching and flailing. I hurled the mandible at the crowd and took off running, my right ankle on fire.

"Go, Doc! Keep going!"

Doc hesitated only a moment as I caught up with him.

A blast of wind and rain hit us as we reached the platform. The sea churned beneath us. Water held no fear for me now. Over the noise of the storm, I couldn't hear our pursuers.

"Get on the glider and fly low to the east dock."

"And you? What are you going to do?"

"I'm not going. I'll find another way to get there," I said flatly.

"Getting yourself killed isn't going to help anything, Spider-Girl!" Doc yelled. "And it's not what your father would have wanted either!"

"I'm not going," I repeated.

Without another word, only struggling to breathe through my rain- soaked mask, I turned to see the trolley where I had hidden the glider.

The trolley was overturned, lying upside down five feet away.

The glider was gone.

"Yes, I'm well aware that neither of you is going anywhere," said Black Widow.