A/N: Hope everyone is enjoying!

Appreciative reader: Here's hoping that you're vocalizing what everyone else is apparently afraid (or possibly too lazy?) To say!

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The next morning, Peter Parker awoke bright and early. He stared at the clock for a few moments in wonder. It's not even eight o'clock yet and I'm wide awake. How 'bout that?

He rolled over, and a sharp lance of pain shot through his side. He groaned. Maybe it'd have something to do with the bruised ribs!

He sat up and got out of the bed. The entire apartment was about as warm as it had been under the covers, due to the recent heat wave. It had apparently been breaking up last evening, though, because when Peter approached the window, he saw that moisture had been collecting on it.

Well... guess that means that a form-fitting costume will be a nice source of warmth on any future endeavors...

If I even have any more future endeavors...

He groaned again and made his way to the TV and his favorite chair. As soon as he sat down, he realized that the remote was nowhere to be found. Aloud, he muttered, "Okay, who stole it this time?"

He got down on his hands and knees and hunted for it for no less than five minutes. He noted to himself, with more than a little bemusement, that this was not the first time in the last few days that he'd gone in search of the device and found himself spending more time looking for it than he might spend actually watching the set. He was also expending more energy to find the device that he could have expended to simply change the channel manually.

What can I say? I love gadgets.

He found the remote sitting on one of the kitchen counters. He harrumphed and headed back out to the living room, where he activated the television and sat back down in his favorite chair. Credits were rolling for the previous show... some kind of kid's show involving a magical baseball cap. News was up next, and Peter found himself holding his breath for what would appear there.

"Good morning, I'm Chuck Zander. Today's top story: the city council meeting last night received some unexpected company when a pair of juvenile mutants attacked the council members, most seriously Councilman Rex Daniels."

The shot switched to a clip of Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch in the mist of wreaking havoc on the chambers, an action that Spider-Man had apparently missed while in transit to the building.

"The mutants, identifying themselves as Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch, were protesting current human-mutant relations. Their rant was disrupted, however, by Spider-Man, who engaged them in combat and proved successful in stopping their wanton destruction of the chambers and attempted murder of Councilman Daniels."

The shot again changed, this time to a view of Spider-Man leaping and bounding across the chambers as Scarlet Witch, and then Quicksilver tried to attack him repeatedly.

Peter's eyes grew wide. Duh! Of course the cameras were rolling the entire time! He chuckled. Wow... all those slides of good shots... I'd love to get a hold of just one of them and shove it in Carson's face. Better yet, Jameson's. "Here's your real grit!"

Speaking of them, I guess I'd better head to the Bugle for any new story assignments. But first...

Peter got himself some breakfast and a quick shower before heading out the door. Time to go make some money.

***

The first thing Peter saw when he walked across the floor was Ben Urich's grinning face. "Hey, Peter. You hear the good news the other night?"

"How could I not?" Peter responded. "Hopefully that all means that Spider-Man wasn't the robber."

"Oh, I'm sure of it," Ben replied. "But it was still good to see that he's out, doing his thing, even with all of these allegations against him. I refuse to believe for a minute that it was Spider-Man that committed those robberies, anyway. So why dwell on it too much? I'll bet he's on the case of finding out who the real culprit is right now."

You bet he is, Peter thought. "Did you get the pics taken care of?"

"Sure did. Got 'em right here." Ben pulled out a drawer and removed a photo envelope from it. "Take a look at these... I think you'll find something paper-worthy in there."

"Hope so." Peter searched through the photographs. Jeez... he wasn't kidding. These really are good quality. I'm gonna have to find out where he gets them developed.

"Oh! And good news for you, I'm sure... Kate's in today." Ben winked at Peter.

Peter frowned. "Is it that obvious?"

"Depends. What do you think is obvious to me?" Ben's smile turned mischievous.

"I'm just figuring you somehow knew I don't like Carson."

"Newsflash, kiddo... nobody likes Carson. Except for Jameson."

Peter chuckled. "So, as you said, nobody, right?"

Ben winced. "Ouch. That's harsh." He smiled again. "The kid's a brown-noser; everyone knows that. More power to him, I guess... he wants to get to the top, and meanwhile, we don't want him to stay here with us lowlifes. That's pretty much the only reason he gets to be an editor when Kate's not around."

"Ah. Stick him in the broom closet and wait for the day to end, eh?"

"Basically."

A loud bang suddenly sounded, and it was followed by a burst of expletives. Peter turned in the direction of the origin, then raised an eyebrow to Ben.

Ben shrugged. "He used to bang his desk with his fist, but that hurt... he changed it to a newspaper, but it was too light... banged drawers, but that broke them... he's got a rubber mallet in one of those drawers now."

Peter laughed. "Are you serious?"

"Honest to God."

"Parker!"

Peter tried to stop laughing as Jameson stalked out of his office. The cigar worked around in his mouth... apparently in consternation. "What the hell are you so happy about?"

"Nothing, sir," Peter responded, trying to put out of his mind the image of a rubber mallet-toting J. Jonah Jameson sitting at his desk, waiting for a Spider-Man report to pop up.

"Well, good. No time to be happy. Only time to work!" Jonah emphasized his point with an upraised index finger. He jabbed that finger at Ben after a moment. "And you... you'd best get yourself down to the council chambers. Yet another of the wall crawler's rampages down there. We need that. Go to it!"

"Whatever you say, Jonah."

"Hmph. And you..." Jonah's finger moved and pointed at Peter. "You go with him. We need some good quality pictures of what the webslinger enjoys doing in his spare time."

Tony Stark couldn't pay me enough to give you pictures of that. "Yes, sir."

"Good." Jonah stalked back into his office mumbling something or another... Peter couldn't make it out, but he presumed it was some gripe about Spider-Man.

Ben glanced up at Peter. "We'll go do that in a little bit. There's a bit of revision I want to do on this story first, and I'll be right with you."

"All right." Peter sauntered down the hall and stopped at the soda machine. He bought a 20 oz. bottle of Coke, wondering why as he did so. This stuff goes through my system faster than a Clydesdale can fill a Dixie cup.

He headed back to Ben's desk and grabbed a nearby seat, waiting patiently.

"So," said Ben, "how do you figure Spider-Man will get himself out of this one?"

Peter shrugged. "Same way he always has. In and out, one step at a time."

"I find myself worrying about this 'Brotherhood' that was mentioned, though. I saw the newscast last night... pretty intense, don't you think?"

Um, yes. Play along, Parker! "Yeah. But why are you worried about the Brotherhood, or whatever it's called?"

"Common sense. Sounded to me like somebody was trying to get Spider-Man to join this Brotherhood, and he doesn't want to, and now they're on really evil terms with each other."

"I suppose that rings true enough."

"Hope so. You're a bright kid. Anyway, it almost seems as if..." Ben sighed, trying to find the right words. "Seems like Spider-Man's being drawn into the open by the sudden rash of mutant violence. First the warehouse yesterday, and then the council meeting last night. And drawing him out only allows the police to get closer to finding him. And it's not like he can really tell them that he's not the one who did it, when they've got video evidence that says otherwise."

"You and I know he didn't do it, though."

"Unfortunately, strong inclinations and passive observation of the behavior of a superhero is not going to provide ample evidence against the videos."

"Shame."

Ben snorted, then got to his feet and picked up his jacket. "Let's get going."

***

The council chambers were almost exactly as Peter recalled them. The only noticeable differences were that there were no mutants webbed to the floor, nor was there any webbing here at all... and police tape blocked off a majority of the chamber. The press were only allowed in a certain area.

Ben and Peter didn't especially mind... there were plenty of people to talk to, and there were plenty of pictures to be taken. The view of the chambers itself seemed to tell a large portion of the story... something akin to a war had happened here. Ben made sure to talk to as many people as possible, while Peter filled two rolls of film with snapshots of the chambers, emphasizing the warped furniture and wreckage. Even if Jonah's views on the incident were skewed, there was no point in hiding anything from public view, not as far as this sort of thing went.

The entire job took far less time than had the task of attending the meeting the other day... Peter found himself morbidly grateful for that. Soon enough, he and Ben headed back to the Bugle. There wasn't much else to say between the two of them... they'd gotten all the information they needed for the moment, and they were content with that.

Still, things weighed heavily on Peter's mind. Lehnsherr would still take me into the Brotherhood, even after all this? I don't think he would... I've never know someone to be so forgiving.

Why am I even thinking about it? The entire thing's already done and overwith! I said no, and no means no, right? After all, I could just abandon it all and go for one of the bad guy groups... right?

But these are mutants... and they're attacking with a definite, legitimate complaint. They're doing things the only way they know how... and the only way to correct that vision is to find a way to appeal to them. There's no way I could do that as an enemy. As a friend, though...

No! I can't join them. I just can't do it. It's not for me. They're harming innocent people, and they have to be stopped... even if they are "my kind".

He sighed heavily. Ben heard it. "Problem?"

Peter shook his head. "Minor moral dilemma. Nothing for you to worry about. I'll take care of it."

"Heard from MJ recently?"

"Last night, actually. Just a little while before the council meeting."

"Good. Communication's important."

"You sound like a college psychology textbook."

"No doubt."

They spent the rest of the trip in relative silence, and Peter continued to ponder Lehnsherr and his strange Brotherhood.

***

When they got back to the Bugle, Peter made sure to get his pictures processed first thing. While they processed, he grabbed a copy of the morning edition and skimmed through the stories. He found it rather amusing, in a dark way, that they were only now beginning to realize something was wrong with the superhero groups in town; none of them seemed to be responding to calls, and the crime levels were beginning to rise. The police were holding down the fort rather admirably, taking care of most of it... but there were a few people who were proving very tricky for the law.

Peter had taken up a seat next to Ben Urich's desk, finding that area to be one of the few pockets of silence and civility in the otherwise chaotic building. No sooner had he finished off the story about concern over missing heroes than the pocket was turned inside-out by a loud bang, followed by another, longer string of expletives than they'd heard before they'd left for the council chambers. Jameson stormed out of his office shortly afterward.

Peter again had to restrain himself from laughing at the image of Jameson banging his desk with a rubber mallet, and well that he did, because Jonah was looking even more angry than he had before. He glared menacingly at Ben and Peter. "And what are you two doing back so early?"

"We've got what we need. Peter's waiting for his pictures to be developed, and I'm typing up the story," Ben replied blandly. "What about you? Done anything special for the paper lately?"

"Doing the story for the Thanksgiving Day Parade, if you must know," Jonah sneered. "And going over the layout for the front cover, too. I'd love to see the look on the wall crawler's unmasked face when he sees the headline." He chuckled.

Peter frowned. "What does it say?"

Jonah held his hands up, as if envisioning the letters just in front of him. "Mutant Violence Takes Its Toll On Spider-Man'." He chuckled again. "Good lord, I wish I could see what he'd have to say to that."

If only you knew.

Ben spun around in his seat and frowned at Jonah. "This is a new low for you, Jonah... making the headline so that it would implicate Spider-Man is part of the mutant violence."

"Oh! Is that what it implies?" Jonah made a show of stroking his chin and shaking his head thoughtfully. "I hadn't thought of that, Ben. Got any other implications hidden in there?"

"Far as I'm concerned, that's the one that stands out."

"Oh, come on, Ben. You know it and I know it. I'll bet Parker over there knows it, too. Spider-Man is just another one of those lowlife mutants who thinks it's okay to not only trash the city, but bring new trash into it! It's despicable. And you don't think I'm not going to let the public know that that's what he's doing? You're all blind, I say."

Ben snorted and turned back to his computer. "You're wasting your breath and your ink, Jonah. Print something the public actually think is worth reading. Then maybe this paper will make some decent money."

Jonah ground his teeth, his cigar almost shredding between them. He looked at Peter. "What about you, huh? You see it, don't you?"

Peter paused for a moment, then folded up his paper and tossed it next to Ben's fax machine. "All I see is that Spider-Man is someone who's looking to protect the city from the ones who want to do it harm. I'm not sure what harm you see in him. It's not like he's got it out for you."

Jonah groaned. "Argh! I'm surrounded by blind people! Come on, Parker, use your head! All Spider-Man is concerned with is self-image! Everything else is tertiary! Why else would he let the council chambers get wrecked in favor of his little dance with those kid mutants? It's not like he couldn't simply have taken them down if he really wanted to. Oh, no, Parker, he's looking to be like a movie star, always the hero, always doing what's good and right! And popular, by the way. It doesn't work like that in real life, though. The problem is that he doesn't know it!"

Peter got to his feet. "I don't think so."

"No? And who asked you?" Jonah leered at Peter.

Peter glared. "Free country, free opinion. And you're entitled to my opinion just as much as I'm entitled to yours."

As Jonah was stuck trying to figure that out, Peter continued. "I think the problem is that since you sometimes don't see eye to eye with him, you choose to never see eye to eye. And because you choose to ignore the information when it's right there in front of you... well, according to many sources, that's the definition of stupidity."

Jonah stepped up to Peter. "You saying I'm stupid, Parker?"

"Hey, you're the one that said it, not me."

"Don't get cute with me."

"Cute?!" Peter stepped up to Jonah until they were only an inch away from each other. Peter was slightly taller than Jonah, and any reasonable person would have been expected to be intimidated right about now. "You know what's 'cute'? Using the headline as an attack against the man who's worked to defend people like you and Carson Roberts and a whole list of other people he's got no reason to like... you've all worked so hard to discredit him because you've got some unexplainable grudge against him. What's the matter, Jonah? Couldn't just write an editorial? You have to go after him with something as petty as a headline? How low can you get?"

Jonah's expression was one of pure fury. "Get out of my face, Parker!"

"Tell that to your cigar," Peter retorted, even as he stepped away. He deliberately ignored Jonah then, turning to Ben and saying, "I'm heading out for a while. I'll be back when the pictures are ready."

Ben nodded, keeping his eyes focused on his computer screen.

Jonah was left standing there in shock.

***

In the privacy of one of the Bugle's bathroom stalls, Peter slammed his fists against the wall again and again, until he was afraid he put them right through it. Damn him! Damn all those people who make this work so thankless and miserable! It's times like these I might almost accept Lehnsherr's offer just to get back at them, those good-for-nothing...

He stepped back, dropped to the floor, and brought a hand to his eyes. Why am I doing this to myself? What is there to accomplish, other than gaining a lot of pain and grief? Why can't I put this sort of thing behind me like I used to be able to?

This isn't like me at all. I need to just be able to let go...

He stayed there on the floor for a long time. Fortunately for him, no one else entered.

***

Hours later, Peter stood outside the Daily Bugle bearing the evening edition. He was not very happy with what was in it... Jonah had placed an editorial in a column next to the main story's picture (one of Peter's pictures, he noted), and the editorial's headline said, "The Menace Of Mutants". In the editorial, Jonah pointed out just about every obvious thing there was about mutants, up to and including the rather obvious fact that Spider-Man was also a mutant. It went on to point out the problems that some of the more troublesome mutants had caused in the city (including Spider-Man, of course) and generalized to include all mutants in the category of "troublemaker".

Oh, yeah, this is liable to make mutants more happy than they already are about the present situation... Peter scoffed and raised his hand, looking to flag a taxi.

Suddenly, his spider-sense tugged at him.

He looked around for danger, but couldn't see any. He bristled, ready for whatever action might take place... then remembered that out here, he was still Peter Parker. He tried to calm himself, but the spider-sense was going haywire.

It jerked him hard to the right.

Automatically, he dived to the right and sprawled on the ground.

An instant later, a massive character landed where Peter had been standing.

Peter heard people around him screaming; he stared up at the figure, and his eyes grew wide. Him...!

There was no mistaking the gigantic creature. Long, thick, pale hair flowed from him like mane, his huge muscles flexed under his ripped brown clothing, his teeth were feral, and his razored nails glinted in the fading sunlight.

Sabretooth!

His black eyes didn't even give Peter so much as a passing glance... they were concentrated solely on the building in front of him.

He roared and leaped through the door, shattering the glass as he did so.

Peter scrambled up off the ground. Maybe he's working for Lehnsherr now... maybe it's Lehnsherr that's protesting, but too much of a coward to do it himself... so he sends in the true muscle. If he's protesting, he'll be heading straight for the one that wrote the article...

Peter found himself hesitating for a moment. What's wrong with me? Come on, get going already! Just because you don't like Jameson is no reason to let him get torn to shreds... but it's what he deserves... still, you have to do it! Come on!

Peter forced himself to take one step, then another, and another... he seemed to be moving through peanut butter, even though each step was faster than the last.

The sounds of more shattering glass didn't seem to help him move any faster. But the crowd of people rushing to get away from the building didn't deter him from it, either.

So it comes to this. What do I do?

Do I let him butcher a man that I don't think deserves to live?

Or do I stop him and let that man keep his life when he never had it coming to him?

What is the right thing to do?

Is it right to let a man die?

Or is it right to fight for humans, as a mutant?

Peter continued to move toward the Bugle's entrance, now moving at a slow, steady pace.

In the end... it all comes down to what I think is right. Not what anyone else would think is right... but what I think is right.

Lehnsherr can't decide it for me. Neither can Jonah, or Ben, or Black Cat, or anyone else...

I have to stay true to myself.

So what is true for me?

Peter stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes.

A long moment passed as more roaring and noises of havoc erupted from the Bugle.

I have to save him.

He nodded once, slowly. And he spoke aloud.

"I have to."

And what's more... I believe it.

His legs suddenly surged with energy, and he raced through the entrance and looked for a place to change into something more comfortable.

***

He still wasn't sure why he took orders from the old man... but at this point, he didn't really care much. He was terrifying people, and he liked that.

And hearing about what the windbag had written had just provoked him into anger. He might have done it even without being told... simply because he didn't much care for that kind of opinion.

Thus, Sabretooth launched himself through the halls of the Daily Bugle, searching for J. Jonah Jameson, anticipating the scream he would hear before ripping out the puny human's vocal cords with his teeth.

Something touched the back of his mind... there had been a scent about that man that he had almost landed on top of. Something vaguely familiar. He couldn't place it, exactly. He couldn't remember the man's face, however, and at this point, it made little difference.

He roared at every frightened passerby he encountered, and the response from all of them was pretty much the same: a high-pitched scream, followed by a sprint in the opposite direction.

He finally found what he was looking for: the nameplate "J. Jonah Jameson" hung outside one of the office doors, embossed in well-polished brass. He shoved against the door, and it simply gave in as a result of the pressure. He stepped inside, his huge feet destroying the fragile glass on the downed door as he walked across it.

He smelled a distinct scent... a scent of cigars and terror. He smiled, then delivered a crushing blow to the desktop. A frightened cry emitted from underneath, and the origin of that cry scrambled out from under the desk and stared up at his attacker.

Sabretooth leaned down and grabbed his victim by his neck. The diminutive man scrabbled at the arm that held him, but to no use... the mutant gripped harder, causing the man's jaw to drop open reflexively. His cigar dropped to the floor and bounced once.

Sabretooth lifted the man into the air, then pulled him close so that they were face to face. His fingers released an almost infinitesimal amount of pressure, just enough for Jonah to draw breath.

"Scream for me."

Jonah's mouth opened wide, and he yelled...

A familiar scent passed under Sabretooth's nose, and his lip curled...

"S-Spider-Man!"

Sabretooth whirled, to see that Spider-Man was standing in the doorway, fists and web-shooters at the ready. "Wanna go another round, kitty?"

Sabretooth took another glance at Jonah, then hurled him across the room. Jonah bounced off the wall and came to rest atop a copier.

"We've gotta stop meeting like this," said Spider-Man, moving carefully to the left.

Sabretooth grinned, and a trail of saliva ran down his jaw. "What a treat... I haven't been fed all day!"

He bounded straight at Spider-Man, who dodged easily. Sabretooth went sailing through one of the inner office windows, taking a shutter array with him on his way out.

"Eat floor!" Spider-Man called out after him.

Sabretooth got to his feet, roared, and leapt at the wall crawler again.

Spider-Man dodged to his right and fired a line of web at the mutant as he passed. The web caught in Sabretooth's mane, and Spider-Man pulled hard on it.

Sabretooth flew straight toward Spider-Man, hanging by his head on a webline.

Spider-Man delivered a heavy slug straight to Sabretooth's jaw. He grimaced and tried to shake the pain out of his knuckles. "Better yet, eat that."

Sabretooth roared even louder and faked left, then swept in to the right and slashed at the wall crawler. Spider-Man just barely dodged the razored claws, and his costume suffered a pair of parallel rips on his left side from Sabretooth's middle claws.

"I'll need stitches for that," Spider-Man quipped, firing a pair of weblines at his enemy as he did so. One caught Sabretooth in the chest and the other in his midsection. Before the mutant had a chance to rip them away, Spider-Man yanked back as hard as he could. Sabretooth soared straight at him, and he delivered another devastating blow, this time to Sabretooth's gut.

The gargantuan mutant hardly even winced. Spider-Man frowned as he danced away, staying just out of his opponent's reach. What, are head shots the only thing that'll get to him? All right, then... Spider-Man leapt as high into the air as the ceiling would allow, and drop-kicked Sabretooth. His heel landed on the bridge of the mutant's nose, and Sabretooth staggered backward, stunned.

As soon as he landed, Spider-Man caught both of Sabretooth's ankles in weblines and pulled back with all his might. Sabretooth toppled backward and hit the floor headfirst.

Spider-Man leapt up again and cannonballed Sabretooth in the chest, depriving the stunned mutant of breath that could be crucial to winning the battle.

The wall crawler got back up and didn't give Sabretooth a chance. He pulled the mutant up by his brown clothes and hurled him through the nearest window to the outside. He leapt through the shattered window quickly afterward, still intent on not letting Sabretooth recover.

Sabretooth had landed in a grassy area and was trying to struggle to his feet. Spider-Man drop-kicked him again, but the mutant was ready for it this time and caught the wall crawler's foot mid-strike. Spider-Man reacted faster than any human could have, quickly twisting his body around and bringing his other foot to bear across the mutant's face.

"Blast from the past," he said, as Sabretooth released his foot and staggered backward. "You fell for that one before. Now you can fall for this!"

Spider-Man jumped straight at the mutant's legs and bashed his shoulders into his opponent's shins. Again, Sabretooth went down, this time landing on his face. The wall crawler didn't waste an instant, grabbing Sabretooth by the back of his coat and hauling him to his feet, still hunched over. Spider-Man tossed him toward the nearest street lamp.

The pole clanged as Sabretooth rebounded against it, and he shook his head, trying to clear the stars, but Spider-Man would have none of it. He drove his right fist, then his left into Sabretooth's jaw, then grabbed his by his coat again and threw him at a nearby bench.

By this time, Sabretooth was realizing just how badly he'd underestimated Spider-Man in terms of physical strength and prowess. He smiled inwardly... a meal that fought was a meal well-deserved. He would no doubt be a delicacy.

Sabretooth landed on the bench, but when Spider-Man came for him, Sabretooth was ready with a powerful blow of his own. He wrenched a plank off the bench and bashed it into the webslinger's left temple. Spider-Man reeled from the hit, and that gave Sabretooth enough time to get up and throw a powerful punch that sent Spider-Man flying across the street.

Sabretooth grinned. "Fresh meat." He leapt at Spider-Man, looking for the kill.

Spider-Man drew his legs to his chest as Sabretooth came down upon him... when the mutant landed on top of his quarry, Spider-Man rolled back and pushed off as hard as he could, sending his opponent flying.

Sabretooth roared in frustration when he found himself lying on his back. He struggled to get up, as did Spider-Man. Both were pained from the fight now, though Sabretooth's healing factor was helping him recover faster than Spider-Man.

Spider-Man rolled to his feet just in time to see Sabretooth running straight at his, both arms outstretched.

The webslinger made a prodigious leap, and Sabretooth passed right under him.

He ran headfirst into another street lamp. The collision was hard enough to knock himself unconscious.

Spider-Man sprayed Sabretooth with webbing as soon as he hit the ground, making doubly sure to secure the tiger-like mutant's hands. He then strung Sabretooth up high on the lamp.

Spider-Man scoffed at the sound of police sirens. "A little late for the party, I'd say..."

He fired a web at the nearest building, and made his exit.

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