A/N: Having some problems with at-home Internet access as of late, so I'm uploading on campus. Hope you continue to enjoy!
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The next morning, thereabouts of 9:15, Peter Parker awoke to the blazing sunlight pouring through the white blinds over his window. He stretched, yawned, and scratched his chest. He felt sore all over... Then again, what can you expect?
He stumbled into the shower and performed his usual routine: first turning the water flow to extreme cold to wake himself up, then extreme hot to get the kinks out of his body. Half his body felt like a mass of bruises, but that was hardly he case... only a third of his body had manifested any sign of injury.
He sighed and stepped out, drying himself off and thinking all the while about Lehnsherr's offer. Who is this guy? He really wants me to join his group, but why? He couldn't have told me everything.
He marched into the darkroom and hauled out the jugs of various chemicals required for the development of the pictures he had gotten last night. He hoped there were some good ones this time around; the last batch had been a bit blurry. He'd spent a pretty penny buying more advanced film. Please, God, let Kodak get me a decent payment. Otherwise I'm going to put an ax through the TV next time I see a Kodak commercial.
Peter hated waiting in hope that the photos would turn out fine, but it was impossible to see how they were developing, as dark as the room was, save for the red light that perpetually made his eyes sting. He squinted into the pans carrying the chemicals and film regardless, hoping for the best.
All in all, it took a long while for him to develop the pictures. Not all of them were great, but a select few had indeed made the cut. Thank God for Kodak.
But even as he developed the film and put the printing stock to use, he couldn't help but let his mind linger on Lehnsherr. Who is he? What does he want?
He finished his printing and slipped his chosen prints into a portfolio. He left the darkroom, picked up his camera, keys, and wallet, and headed out.
Maybe I should find out.
***
Fortunately, the editor of the day, Kate Cushing, was waiting for him. Or rather, he was waiting on her, standing in front of the air conditioning unit just inside her office door. His fingers tingled a bit as she flipped through the photos, various degrees of interest evident in her face.
"Hmm. It's Spider-Man's usual, I see. Nothing interesting happen? No super-villains?" she asked.
"Not by the time I got to the party. I really hated the council meeting, so I didn't really figure on shooting the rally. Maybe I should have," Peter responded. His leg cramped slightly, and he winced. "Oh, well. At least none of the old ones have to grace the pages."
Kate snickered. "Maybe the prison specialists are doing their job, after all."
"One can only hope."
She looked up at him. "You go out pretty late to do these. Why the hassle? Can't take normal pictures?"
He smiled, knowing that she was teasing him. "What can I say? I have to keep up my reputation as Spider-Man's personal paparazzi."
"Sounds like a specialty pizza at a local parlor," Kate muttered, eliciting a snort from Peter. "Tell you what. This stuff is looking better than the last. Might not be front title or anything, unless Jonah wants it that way, but it's newsworthy nonetheless. Here."
She filled out a voucher, and handed it to Peter. He took it and read the triple-digit figure. He glanced up in surprise and appreciation. "Thanks a lot. This should help me get some sleep."
"Glad to hear," she responded. She pointed a scolding finger at him. "You're enthusiastic, Parker, but be careful about what you're doing out there. Don't want you getting hurt."
"Yes, Mother," he responded, grinning wryly. If you only knew...
He left the office and looked around for a few moments. Now to check up on Lehnsherr. Maybe if I check the morgue...
Peter took the elevator to the Daily Bugle's second floor, where their aptly named "morgue" was housed. Records of earlier editions were kept on linked computer terminals there, and perhaps might provide some clue as to who this guy was. The media was notorious about invading people's privacy.
He sat down at one of the terminals and tapped a few buttons. Bob the computer geek made his way over to Peter. "Something I can do for you?"
"Just need to search the archives," Peter responded. "I've forgotten how to do this."
Bob shook his head. "My man, there is no hope for you and your kind." He grabbed a photocopied and stapled bunch of paper from another desk and practically tossed it into Peter's lap. "Here's the idiot's guide. Read it over once in a while. People like you will be the death of me, I swear to God."
Something speared through Peter's mind for a split instant upon hearing the phrases "your kind" and "people like you". He wasn't exactly sure why, but it wasn't pleasant.
Is Lehnsherr really having that much effect on me? I know Bob wasn't talking about mutants... but...
God, I really have to lighten up.
Though he didn't actually feel all that giddy or amused, Peter chuckled, then consulted the guide and searched for LEHNSHERR.
Let's see who the man behind the charm is.
***
The brightly garbed figure was swinging very quickly, very intensely, and very dangerously this evening. Cab drivers and their startled passengers caught glimpses of a red-and-blue blur sweeping between cars on the streets, but any impression beyond that was lost. When they finally had the nerve to look out the windshield again, the figure was already three blocks further along.
The typical response was a muttered curse and a more careful eye on things beyond the street.
Spider-Man soared higher than he had in a long time... he couldn't remember the last time he felt so alive, swinging from building to building more dynamically than he had ever swung before.
He knew exactly what he was going to say to Lehnsherr. Now it only fell to him to go to the Statue of Liberty and hand it to him on a silver platter.
And then shouted a female voice. "Hey! Stop! Somebody help!"
But first...
Spider-Man had just soared over an alleyway; that was where the cry had come from. He immediately cut his line and fired one in the opposite direction at the apex of his high climb. The line fastened securely against a nearby office building, and the immediate tension on the line served to both stabilize him and give him enough return momentum to make it back to the alley in minimal time.
He dropped down low enough that when he reached the crack between the buildingsa, he landed hard against one of the walls. Without even thinking about what he was doing, he started releasing sprays of webbing upon the attackers -- three of them -- and took a split-instant to enjoy the satisfaction of seeing them realize what was happening.
The attackers looked up.
They were teenage boys armed with bricks and pipes.
Spider-Man's eyes narrowed, and he jumped down to face one of them.
Spider-sense --
He twisted around and grabbed the pipe in mid-swing, then delivered a blow to the boy's gut. The boy doubled over and gasped for breath.
His spider-sense went off again --
He grabbed the second boy by the shirt and tossed him bodily down the alley. He slammed into a Dumpster, slid down, and groaned.
Spider-Man turned back to the boy he'd been facing before. "Et tu, Brute?"
The boy dropped his weapons and tried to run off. Spider-Man shot a webline at his ankle and tripped him... the boy fell face first to the cracked pavement.
He turned to the source of the cry for help, huddled in the corner where the boys had shoved her.
It was a girl of no more than sixteen years. Her face was dirty and streaked with tears. Her long black hair was ruffled, and her clothes were less than indicative of whatever reputation she might have had.
Spider-Man extended a hand to her. "It's okay... I'm not going to hurt you."
A shaking extremity reached out and took his.
Spider-Man spied the hand.
It was tri-digital.
His brow knitted under his mask. "Are you all right?"
She released a shuddering sigh and nodded. "Yes. Thank you. You're a true brother."
She got to her feet. She wore a long brown trenchcoat, bulky enough that any other features were impossible to make out. Spider-Man wasn't even sure if he wanted to know... but simply hearing her call him a "brother" told him everything he really needed to know.
She was a mutant.
He reached out and gave her an affectionate pat on the shoulder. "It's not safe here. You should go."
"I don't have anywhere else to go..."
Spider-Man heard a suddenly scrabbling of extremities across the pavement. His head snapped to the left, and he saw that the boy whom he's tripped was trying to get to his feet and run off. He reached out and fired a line of web at the boy's back, pulling him back to the ground. The boy landed ignoiniously on his butt, and Spider-Man dragged him close.
The hero picked the boy up by his shirt front. "Why? Why did you do this?!"
"B-Because s-she's a freak!" the boy screeched. "We don't want her here!"
Spider-Man's teeth ground under his mask, and the noise was almost audible. He lifted the boy into the air and shook him. "You better start learning tolerance pretty quick, boy. Because if I ever hear those words come out of you or anyone else even remotely like you again, I'll find you and kick your scrawny ass so hard your grandmother will feel it!"
He threw the boy down to the pavement, and he made one menacing step in his direction. "Now get out of here!"
The boy screeched again, this time incoherently, and scrambled to get to his feet as fast as possible and run as fast as his feet would take him.
Spider-Man turned to look at the girl...
But she was already gone.
He closed his eyes and shuddered.
What's happening to me? I always have something smart to come back with... I don't make threats like that... not like some villain I'm always fighting. Why am I becoming like this?
He leaped out of the alley and fired a webline towards another building. I have to get away from here real quick and give Lehnsherr my answer...
"Spider!"
He frowned. Was that... Black Cat...? He looked over his shoulder and saw a lithe figure, garbed in black, with platinum blond hair flowing out from her head like a miniature curtain, swinging on a nearly impossibly long whip, trying to catch up with him.
I thought she was out on personal business... unless she was checking up on something as the Cat...
He alighted on a rooftop and stopped there. She caught up with him a moment later, landing directly in front of him.
"Hey, Cat... where have you been?" he asked.
"Had to track down a drug ring that moved to New Jersey," she answered. "It's busted now, so I'm back." She wore a look of mild concern. "I saw a little bit of what happened in that alley."
Spider-Man shook his head. "I don't know what got into me. I'm not like that at all, really... you know that."
"Yes, I do." She stepped closer. "But I think you meant well for that little girl. You were trying to protect her."
"I was doing more than that. I was taking those boys' intolerance of mutants way too far... now I'm starting to experience the discrimination on a much more personal level." He shook his head again. "I don't know why I'm taking offense on mutantkind's behalf..."
"It's because, like it or not, you're a mutant, too," she answered. "Of course you'd take offense."
"But I never did before, or not to that extent."
"Maybe it's good that you have now. It makes Lehnsherr's cause all the more important."
Spider-Man frowned. "Lehnsherr? You know about him?"
"Of course I do. He asked me to join his Brotherhood of Mutants, same as he asked you."
"And you accepted?"
"Of course. I'm a mutant, too, you know." She cocked her head and smiled. "What... is there something wrong with this image?"
"There's everything wrong about this image!" Spider-Man flailed his arms about. "Don't you know who he is? What he tried to do? He's Magneto, the self-proclaimed Master of Magnetism! It was him and his Brotherhood that tried to assassinate Robert Kelly!"
"I know," she answered in a soothing voice. "Trust me, I know. But he's a changed man now. All he wants is to protect mutantkind from being wiped out by the callous, unfeeling humans that are in positions of that kind of power."
"He wants more than that," Spider-Man responded. "He wants a civil war! He wants the mutants to take over the world, and to live out the concept that humanity has of mutantkind! He doesn't believe in peace!"
"You wouldn't be saying these things if you gave him a chance," she answered, an angry tinge to her voice.
"What's wrong with you?!" he virtually yelled. "This is me you're talking to! Please, listen to me! Lehnsherr can't be trusted, no matter how much he says he may have changed! He can't be trusted, and neither can his Brotherhood!"
"I'm part of that Brotherhood now. Does that mean I'm untrustworthy, as well?"
Spider-Man groaned, exasperated. "It means I don't think you're walking into this with open eyes. Take a close look at him, and what he's done, hand in hand. Do you honestly believe that he's as pacifistic as he once was domineering?"
She didn't even hesitate. "Yes. I do."
He reached out a desperate hand and took a step forward. "Felicia..."
A slight crease formed between her eyes at the mention of her name. She shook her head. "No, Spider... I can't leave him now. Whether you think so or not, his cause is a noble one, and he really is concerned for the welfare of mutants."
"I won't dispute that. What I do dispute is the manner in which he's trying to handle it."
"Then become part of the Brotherhood and bring your concerns to him. There's no way you can make him care about your opinions if you don't."
He shook his head. "I can't do that. As much as I'd like to believe that he's a changed man, as you say, I simply can't believe it. You can tell him that my answer is no... and I hope he gets the picture."
He turned and leapt off the building, leaving behind the consternated image of Black Cat.
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And what will everyone do about this decision? Find out next time! Meantime, review!