A/N: I'm taking creative liberties on the spider-sense because I really have no idea how it really works. I remember something in the movie said about "pre-cognition", but since there's bound to be danger in this story anyway... *shrug* Enjoy!
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An elated Spider-Man swung through the skies of busy, nighttime Manhattan. Only one battle tonight, and another super-villain is off the streets.
Although, he considered, that battle was surprisingly short. I expected more cunning out of him; he seemed to be on par with Wolverine when it comes to animal instinct and savagery. Then again, who am I to complain? I beat him fair and square.
But it still felt too easy.
Spider-Man mentally shrugged and continued his patrol. For about fifteen minutes, there was nothing very eventful, other than having to replace his web cartridges... but that was of little consequence, since he had plenty of cartridges to spare in his belt.
The sky was quite beautiful this evening. There were clouds, yes, and those were what was making the city so blasted hot these days... but every once in a while, those clouds would break up and show a full moon hanging over them.
He headed for one of the business districts, intent on finding out the latest news. Upon arrival, he found himself a comfortable perch on a high ledge and spied the massive news screens and tickers. One rather frazzled-looking female reporter was running off lines of text from a piece of paper that had just now been handed to her.
"...and I have just been informed that Spider-Man's alleged apprehension of the disrupting party at the anti-mutant rally is a false report. Police forces claim they can find no trace of the offender, yet from the information they obtained from Spider-Man, it was apparently where the offender was being held. The police have only found fragments of Spider-Man's characteristic webbing..."
Spider-Man frowned. Impossible! I webbed him up too thoroughly! Maybe he had help...?
He sighed and took to his patrol again. He'd have to think on it a while... and be doubly careful to spot the creature he had fought.
***
"Ah. You engaged him, I see."
Sabretooth growled at him.
"I take that to mean a yes." He reached up to his ear and tapped the communicator inserted there.
"Mystique, Toad, is he in sight?"
"He's hard to keep up with," Mystique complained.
"Speak for yourself; I can keep up real easy," Toad retorted. "Some of us prefer to put our tongues to use other than licking--"
"I think that's sufficient information, Toad," he interrupted. "Where is he?"
"Headed for Long Island. Maybe he wants some time to himself."
"And I wouldn't blame him. I imagine he's having a very trying evening." He smiled slightly, but the smile quickly disappeared. "Do not waste time. Join Toad on Long Island. I will be there shortly." He turned to Sabretooth. "You stay here. You've earned your keep, and a rest."
Sabretooth stared at him.
***
Spider-Man stood atop Lady Liberty's head, thinking it a classic Titanic moment; he had a near-irresistible urge to spread his arms wide and shout, "Whoo! I'm king of the spiders!"
Fortunately, he restrained the urge.
"Never know who's up here," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
And then, surprisingly, he received a response.
"Indeed."
Spider-Man whipped around, web-shooters ready to release their irritating contents...
Hovering in the air, seemingly without any support mechanism, was an elderly gentleman wearing what appeared to be an insanely comfortable black three-piece suit with a dark shirt underneath. It blended almost perfectly with the night; though Spider-Man's reflective-surfacing lenses, it looked nearly impossible to make out.
He thought he recognized him as the gentlemanly figure he'd seen at the council meeting earlier that day.
He frowned. "Who are you?"
The gentleman gave a melodramatic bow. "I am Erik Lehnsherr, at your service, Spider-Man. I am a mutant, and I wish nothing but good intentions for you."
He's probably right. Otherwise he would have gotten my spider-sense going. Anyway, he seems genuine. But how's he doing that? Spider-Man asked as much, allowing his guard to relax a hair.
Lehnsherr seemed to read the hero's thoughts. "This is one of my gifts." He smiled thinly. "Although at this point, if I could, I would exchange it for such agility as yours."
"You've come a long way to compliment me, Lehnsherr," Spider-Man responded. "And while I do appreciate my adoring fans, I'm not the type to give out autographs."
"And I do not seek one."
Spider-Man's eyes narrowed behind his mask. "Then what is it you want?"
"Your attention."
"You've got it."
"Very well, then." Lehnsherr alighted near Spider-Man, but gave him a respectful distance. "As you are aware, the subject of mutants has become extremely controversial in recent history, both here in New York and worldwide. One of the most ardent proponents of mutant persecution is Senator Robert Kelly. I assume you know of him."
"What American doesn't? The man can walk through Harlem untouched, for God's sake."
Lehnsherr smiled again. "You sound rather persecuted yourself, if I may say so."
Spider-Man rubbed his head. "Sorry. I've just had a rough night. My ribs are still aching." He shook his head. "Anyway, we were talking about Senator Kelly."
"Very well. Recently, he has brought to Congress's attention his Mutant Registration Act, which would force all mutants in America to reveal themselves to the public, where they might face further persecution, brutal assault, and even murder... all because their attackers do not understand mutants."
Spider-Man could see where Lehnsherr was coming from. He frowned. "I sympathize with you in your dilemma... but what does this have to do with me?"
"You are a mutant too, are you not? You would be forced to reveal yourself for who you are.
Your identity would be exposed and your fan base would turn into a lynch mob."
"I doubt that," Spider-Man muttered.
"No? I read the newspaper, Spider-Man, and I know how much public opinion can be swayed by a single word. The Daily Bugle has your picture on it every day, and whenever your picture is there, showing you proudly and staunchly defending those you love, there is a headline that does you no justice."
No thanks to Jameson, Spider-Man thought. He nodded. "Okay, point for you. But I still have a hard time believing that the public would be turned so quickly and harshly, even from the power of your 'single word'."
"I'm afraid I don't know your age, Spider-Man, but judging from your voice, I would say that I have at least two decades of experience more than you. I've seen such things happen, even as improbable they may seem."
Spider-Man was growing impatient. He was also becoming uncomfortable, and extremely so; this man was hitting the nail on the head, and they both knew it. "And what, precisely, would you have me do about it?"
"Listen to my offer."
Spider-Man cocked his head. "Offer?"
"I propose a partnership in nobility."
Spider-Man shook his head. "I can't allow you or any other innocent people to get hurt."
Lehnsherr adopted a fatherly expression. He gestured toward one of the spokes on Lady Liberty's crown.
The spoke obediently bent upward at a 90 degree angle. A few moments later, it restored itself to its original position.
Lehnsherr turned back to Spider-Man. "I would be more worried about the attackers than me. Also, believe it or not, I do have influence. I can help you reduce your encounters with barbaric gang members and their guns, or purse snatchers and their cowardice."
"And if you were to help me, what would you ask for in return?"
Lehnsherr smiled faintly. "You deduced a give-and-take relationship from the beginning. Very good. I would ask you to consider membership in my Brotherhood of Mutants."
"Brotherhood of Mutants?"
"The title is simple enough, I believe. We are a band of mutants, dedicated to making our cause one that cannot be ignored. We protect our own. If you were to join my Brotherhood, your ability to influence public opinion might increase, no matter what the newspapers might say."
Spider-Man scoffed. "I think there's really only one newspaper that chooses to bash me."
"One is one too many these days, Spider-Man. This is the information age. If the information is tainted, people become biased. Biases lead to anger, to hate, to pain. But returning to the subject at hand, I offer you a chance to join your brothers in our noble cause of mutant protection."
The spider-sense buzzed faintly at this; Lehnsherr was not revealing his whole story.
But Spider-Man had no idea what the story might be, so he couldn't find a basis for the spider-sense. It was only instinct, after all.
Still, it wouldn't be going off unless something about this was wrong.
Spider-Man's eyes turned to slits underneath his mask, as if they were looking for physical evidence to indicate something amiss. "Why invite me? Do you believe I have anything special to contribute to your group? I'm not exactly one who fits in with a team."
"You've not been given the chance that many times, if my information is accurate. You are only a reserve member of the Avengers, and you've not even been so much as invited to join the X-Men's circle. You attempted joining the Fantastic Four, but they wouldn't have you, either. How can you claim to know your abilities and disabilities if no one will provide the chance?"
Spider-Man's eyes narrowed further. "I suppose there's some truth to that... but I've found comfort in operating alone."
"And you might find more comfort in teamwork. The risk for injury is lessened considerably when you have allies at your side."
The red-and-blue garbed man sighed and nodded. "True enough. Anything else?"
"Not yet. We must first trust each other."
"Then don't pop up on me like that. I'm high-strung already; I don't need you adding to it."
Lehnsherr raised an eyebrow. "And as for my offer?"
"Let me think on it."
Lehnsherr nodded, then stepped into empty space and floated off.
Spider-Man stared after him. How does he do that?
He shook his head. Doesn't matter. I'm gonna have to find a new hiding place.
He leapt off Lady Liberty and made his way back to Manhattan.
***
"That didn't go as well as I'd hoped," said Mystique.
"Patience, Mystique. He needs time. Stay with him, and follow him until he returns to his home. He's liable to be tired after he's finished tonight. Perhaps he won't sense you. Besides, you're only curious. You pose no threat to him in any way. It worked for us this time."
"Right."
"Toad, how's work progressing?"
"There could be a bit of a delay. No more than an extension of a couple of days."
"Toad..."
"Look, I'm doing the best I can. I don't see you working on it and sweating your ass off, and trust me, with these materials, you would be. This close, and without the isotope properly refined, it could kill us."
"I'm the recruiter. I let you in when no one else would. Never forget that."
"I never have. And don't you forget that you need me as the mechanic for this thing."
"I haven't."
"Then let's get back to base so I can work."
Three seconds later, there was nothing there.
***
Spider-Man sighed as he swung in through the bedroom window. His mind was whirling with possibilities. Maybe Lehnsherr just wants me for my abilities. Maybe this Brotherhood of his is totally submissive. Maybe they freed that lion-mutant, whoever he was.
Maybe there is no Brotherhood, and I'm just the first of several people he's asked to join.
Maybe there is a Brotherhood, but they have different ideas that the one Lehnsherr claims to adhere to.
Maybe it's another superhero organization.
Maybe I could call it home.
He pulled his mask off and threw it on the floor. Too many maybes.
He looked wistfully at the cold, empty bed. MJ... I really wish you were here right now... I need you. There's no one else I can talk to about this...
He closed his eyes and sat down on the bed, not bothering to remove the rest of his costume for a few moments. He folded his hands and rested his elbows on his knees, trying to organize his thoughts.
It hit him with the force of a bullet, and his eyes snapped open. Wait a minute... there is someone else I can talk to...!
He grabbed the phone and dialed in a number he'd memorized since the day she'd given it to him. He expected a pickup on the second ring, as she had always done for him whenever his number appeared on her caller ID'er... but several rings went by without any response.
He sighed in frustration and moved to hang up, when suddenly he heard a click on the other end. He pressed the receiver against his ear again, suddenly hopeful. "Felicia?"
"No, Peter... it's me."
Peter frowned. "Ms. Hardy? I'm sorry, did I wake you?"
"Actually, you did. My boy, you live during ungodly hours... wait, you were looking for Felicia?"
"Um, yes. She's not there?"
Her tone sounded incredulous. "I thought she would have told you. She went out on some sort of personal business. Just left this morning. She hasn't been back since."
"When do you expect her to return, then?"
"No idea." She offered him a slight chuckle. "I'm less restrictive than I used to be, my boy... and besides, her nature calls for it. She'll get back when she does. I hope it's not as urgent as the late hour might suggest."
Peter sighed dejectedly. "No... not really that urgent..."
She apparently caught the sigh. "I'll have her call you first thing when she gets back."
"Thanks. Sorry for waking you."
"Not a problem. Take care."
"You, too."
Peter hung up and slumped his shoulders. No MJ, no Felicia... it all falls to me, really.
So what do I do?
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Indeed, what will he do? Please review! (Hey, that rhymes.)