Alright, so first things first I counted all the votes and this was the result:

Gwen: 13

Matt: 13

Cindy: 6

Norah: 3

...I'm honestly shocked. I knew people shipped the leads, but similar to Bullseye I assumed Matt would take a landslide win. So, we're actually tied between romance (Gwen) or complete and utter chaos and dysfunction (Matt). If you haven't voted before do so now cause I'm gonna have to write that choice next chapter. Either that or we flip a coin.

Anyway, this chapter's a tad darker than the last. Apologies for that, but I figured it fits given that the drama didn't go away; the leads just have a better handle on it. MJ's segment in particular ended up in a darker direction than I intended. I'll try to tone it down in the upcoming chapters cause. Don't want to get too depressing again.


The impact of the blow made Matt stagger back, though he miraculously managed to keep standing, "Heh...nice." The blind bastard grinned despite the blood that ran down his twisted nose.

Peter punched him again.

This time he did fall, though (sadly) not ever the edge of the roof. Peter almost went for a third strike but something held him back. Here Matt was in front of him without any of his old puppetmaster's gifts. Was it just old habits, his ego getting the better of him that he wouldn't even raise a hand to fight back? A year ago he would've said yes to that thought without a moment's hesitation...

Peter grabbed him by the scruff of his armed costume and tossed him to the nearby wall away from the edge. He'd barely impacted to it back first when Peter struck his stomach with a third blow that made Matt fall on his knees, "...Nice to see you again, Peter." Peter turned away and took a deep breath as Matt stood and fixed his broken nose. He was sorely tempted to break it again, "You held back on that last one a bit."

"I could fix that, if you want." Peter growled.

"Maybe later. I do need my jaw if I want to talk." He wiped the blood from his mouth and took a deep breath, "I suppose you weren't expecting to see me."

"Thought Stick would kill you once they got all they needed."

"So did I." He chucked soflty, "But, they haven't gotten everything they needed from me just yet."

Peter's eyes narrowed, "I doubt you could keep your mouth shut. Never your game to keep quiet."

"Oh, I didn't. I told them everything I knew - what I remembered, at least. Parts of my life are a blur due to the whole demonic possession thing." Peter turned back and gave him a dirty look. Matt just kept grinning, "Like I you, I was certain that Stick would kill me once I spilled my guts - perhaps by literally spilling my guts. Despite his callousness he's not one for torture so I assumed that a quick death was assured."

"What, you're telling me felt merciful? The teacher felt pity for his prodigal student?"

Matt laughed like he'd been told a particularly funny joke. Peter's right hand clenched into a tight fist, "No, not mercy: pragmatism. Stick is many things, but he's not wasteful. You may not be aware of this, but the Chaste has been reduced to near nothing after decades - centuries - of warefare against the Hand. They refuse to profane their teachings by bringing back someone via demonic means or breaking mind. Though, they aren't above a bit of indoctrination themselves when it comes to children."

"Get to the point."

"The point is that even despite your victory the Hand isn't beaten. Far from it, actually. You've taken their main patron and a large chunk of their resources and now, for the first time in millennia, they're cornered; and you know the saying about cornered foxes and jackals. Or Spiders, in this case. Your group sans Moon Knight has abandoned the fight against the Hand and they're lacking bodies to throw into the grinder."

"...You've gotta be kidding." He almost screamed, both in disbelief and utter frustration, "They trusted you?"

"Trust is a generous word. Like I said, Stick is a pragmatist-"

"Cut the bullshit!" Peter grabbed him by the scruff again and pulled them close till their faces were only inches apart. Peter didn't get a chance to say anything before his other hand pulled out his pistol and pressed it against the underside of the ex-lawyer's jaw, "Everything you did, all the people that suffered because you, and he let you get away with it. I should kill you right now."

"Do it then."

There was no smile, no bravado in the words. Matt's expression was passive and his eyes looked into Peter's without so much as a blink. Peter's fingers inched towards the trigger and, just before he pulled, Matt smiled.

The gunshot rang out. Peter let go of the blind bastard's neck and Matt tapped his left ear, "I think you missed." The bullet impacted the wall next to Matt's head.

"Why?"

"Hm? I already told you-"

"No, that's not it." Peter put the gun back in its holster. No need to be tempted again, "Stick wouldn't have let you have free reign. Not without insurance."

"Know him that well, do you?" He smiled wryly and pulled down the collar of his armored suit. At the edge of his neck he caught a tattoo of a letter he couldn't read. It looked like old Japanese, "This isn't a style choice, by the by. Think of it as a...collar. I so much as a take a step outside of New York, enter anywhere I shouldn't belong or, God forbid, don't check in every hour? I will die slowly and painfully, which you'll no doubt take some well-justified satisfaction in."

Nothing, his spider-sense hadn't rang at all. He wasn't lying.

"Huh...how far are we from the road out of the city?"

"Very funny." He let the collar cover it again, "That and I'm useful in other ways. I was the former Kingpin, and while the law has cracked down on my and the former Mr. Fisk's empire as best they could, a confession from the man himself is just the final condemnation they need. Karen was very quick to assure me that I'll be on a short leash since, officially, I was just Mr. Fisk's lawyer."

"You fought with Cindy's deranged twin and you were possessed by a demon."

"Yes, and if you recall I also fought alongside you in Times Square. The videos still sell for a lot." He smirked slightly, "Karen argued that I was possessed, and considering there's a very dead demon in Times Square it's hard to dispute. Granted I'm certain many more criminals will use the 'I was possessed by a demon' excuse to try and escape taking responsibility. You'd be surprised how often people claim they were mind controlled into cheating on their wives or stealing that expensive purse."

"Huh, so that's it? You don't get to pay for what you've done..."

"We all pay in the end, Peter." His next smile was somber, "If you're worried about me escaping punishment, then don't. I'm going to Hell."

"...So what?"

"I meant I'm slated down there. It's inevitable." He walked past him and stared over the edge of the roof again, blocking his face from view, "The Beast's possession corrupted my soul. The Big Man upstairs isn't very forgiving when it comes to people who accept deals from the devil, you see, and in the eyes of whatever Justice there is I'm Hellbound. I could spend the rest of my life doing every good deed and sacrifice myself for Christ himself and I'd still go to the lowest circle."

Again, his spider-sense was quiet.

"You expect me to feel sorry for you?" Peter sneered.

"Sorry? Oh no. I can take a lot of things, but pity's simply distasteful. Pride is one of my many, many sins." His smile was back in full force when he turned around, "I just wanted to reassure you that justice is coming, whether it be now or later. I expect Stick and Karen derive at least some pleasure at the idea of me attempting to atone for my past transgressions only to fall into the inferno regardless."

He stepped closer and grabbed the pistol from Peter's holster. Peter grabbed the handle and Matt put the end against his jaw again, "Of course, if you're impatient you can take my life now. Can't do it myself. Suicide's a sin, you see."

"Enough games." Peter pulled the gun back and re-holstered it, "You came out here for a reason." He gestured to the costume.

"You like it? Melvin Potter designed it. I had my doubts at first, but considering he received your approval I assumed he could be trusted." Well, that he couldn't deny. That body armor saved his life more times than he wanted to admit during his year long trip.

"I don't care about your costume. I meant why are you wearing it?"

"You want to see me bare that badly?"

"Sure. It'll let me know where to shoot."

"Hah, you have a sense of humor now!" Peter's right eye twitched, "Well, to answer your question, it's not as if Matt Murdock can exactly run around on rooftops fighting ninjas. I am supposed to sell that I was possessed and without the devil pulling my strings I'm just a helpless blind man. People so easily believe that those with disabilities are helpless and worthy of automatic sympathy."

"I don't see any ninjas around..."

"Fine then, you've caught me." He held up his hands in mock surrender, "I told you all those months ago that when I was younger I'd wanted to try my hand at vigilantism. A foolish thought, and it still is, but it's not as if I have much to live for. A little foolishness is harmless, and if I make a mistake then I die. Either way no one loses anything worth worrying over."

This time it was Peter's turn to laugh. Matt Murdock, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, the Kingpin, the monster who'd causes suffering to hundreds if not thousands...wanted to try his hand at heroism.

He punched him in the face again. He stumbled over the edge and Peter grabbed his neck again before he fell out of sight, "Is this going to be a habit, Peter?" Matt looked up at him cheerfully, still hanging over the edge with his feet barely touching the rooftop. He could let go right now and let the bastard fall. Maybe he died, maybe he broke his spine like Captain Stacy. Either way it would've been satisfying for him.

His phone rang. He and Matt stared at one another in silence for a brief moment before Peter sighed and pulled Matt back and shoved him away roughly, "What's up, Lana?"

"Pete! Murdock's alive!" His (might as well be) sister shouted in a panic, "I'm leaving school now, tell me where you are-"

"I know he's alive. I'm standing in front of him now."

"What?! Where are-"

"It's fine. I dealt with it." This wasn't a conversation to be had over the phone, "Don't worry about me. I'll talk to you tomorrow and explain."

"But-"

"Trust me." He terminated the call and sighed again. He couldn't believe this was happening...though, maybe he should have. It wasn't like he hadn't dealt with worse, "Who else knows about you?"

"Your sister, for one. Stick and Karen I already mentioned, and Moon Knight is aware as well. I'm somewhat surprised he hasn't told you." Peter wasn't. The moon worshiper had a habit of keeping information close to his chest, "I expect Stick and the rest will expect us to cooperate. It's one reason I came to meet you tonight. If Stick sprung it on you I doubt you'd be so open to the idea."

"I ain't open to the idea now." Peter scoffed, "I dunno what game Page and the rest of those wackjobs think they're roping me into, but I ain't playing. You wanna play Superhero? Fine, just stay away from me. And if I hear anything about you going back to how you were I'll personally send you to Hell."

"I hope that's a promise." Matt hummed. Again he was reminded of the bastard smiling just before he pulled the trigger, "I feel like I should warn you that Karen will try her hardest to persuade you and I know from experience that she's got a way with words."

Peter scoffed. Yeah, like anything would convince him to work with the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.


"What do you mean you can't do that?! You can't talk back to me!"

Mary Jane took a deep breath and counted to three internally, trying to ignore the red-faced, screaming woman and her brat of a child on the other side of the counter. She wasn't like Gwen - she didn't have people lining up for her endorement or so much merch money that she could probably outbid the Kingpin.

This was fine with her. She grew up middle class and, while she was always hungry for attention on the stage, money really wasn't something she thought about all that much. All she really cared was that she had a roof over her head and enough food to buy her daily dose of fast food and soda.

But of course, money made the world go round and she needed a job to pay for rent. Gwen had insisted on trying to pay for everything, because of course she did, but MJ didn't have it. Maybe she didn't make as much money, but she wasn't gonna be a leech like her deadbeat of a father. So, she looked around and found a job close by in a local theater stand. It wasn't glamorous, but it'd help pay her part of the bills.

"Let me talk to your manager! Now!"

In hindsight, taking this job when she had a murderous symbiote attached probably wasn't the best idea.

'Your boss forgot to turn on the cameras. We can kill her and her little chub ball and no one would ever know,' Crimson (calling it 'the symbiote' and 'crazy monster' was getting old) whispered.

'Shut the hell up...' She hated to admit how tempting that sounded.

As expected, the night shift on a local theater wasn't exactly the most...enjoyable. She'd dealt with it - shitty gigs were part in parcel when they first started out - but sometimes she dealt with shit like this, "Ma'am, for the last time, I can't do what you're asking."

In the month she'd spent here she'd dealt with all types. Kids trying to sneak into R rated movies, couples who held up the line by making kissy faces at each other, and assholes who spoiled every movie up on view. You name it, she'd dealt with it. Most of the time they went away after she told them off and sometimes they even apologized, which helped restore her faith in humanity.

And then there were people like this.

"I said I want to speak to your manager!" The older woman said. She was old, probably in her mid 40's at least, with streaks of gray on her brown hair and a thin, bony body that reminded her of that Vulture guy Peter killed. Her kid looked about 12 or 13 and continued screaming and crying, "I want to tell him you mistreated my daughter and me! You are in so much trouble!"

Mary Jane's hands under the counter shook and her fingers turned into claws, 'Tempting now?'

'Shut up or I'm starving myself.' She forced herself to smile at the woman, "As I said, I can't-"

"You're so selfish!" The woman interrupted. A flash of her clawing the woman's face off while her brat watched burst into her mind, "All I'm asking is that you give us the movie we want! What's so hard about that?!" Her brat cried again about wanting to see Thawing.

"Well like I told you over and over again, it's not showing anymore. I. can't. change. that," she said the last part slowly.

Big mistake.

"Are you mocking me?" MJ almost rolled her eyes. She reined it in, "You can't talk to me that way! You're just a cashier! And you're so selfish that you won't even help a hardworking mother!" Oh yes, the 'poor single mom excuse'. She'd heard horror stories from Gwen about these when she worked at the Dollar Dog. She had nothing against them - especially since her own mom was a shining example - but anyone who used it as an excuse to be an entitled bitch can go jump on a tentacle.

'That can be arranged.'

'That's it. I'm cooking the burgers extra well done tonight.' It always liked things raw.

Crimson growled just as her boss came to her rescue. Mary Jane tuned out the conversation and took her daily allotted 5 minute break. She should've been used to crap like this already, having Crimson in her head made it difficult. She wasn't delusional enough to think that the idea of clawing the woman's face off wasn't hers. Everyone had those thoughts when the hormones kicked in. Of course, the fact that she could actually do it made her pause.

She pulled out a packet of gum from her packet and chewed in annoyance as soon as she was in the bathroom. She would've tried smoking, but it still tasted like someone took a crap on her tongue, "We can use your aggression in more productive ways." Crimson jutted out of her shoulder and grinned that damn grin of its (hers?), "Come on, you know you want to."

"Do I have to bring you to Wasp again?"

"What? I'm following the terms of our deal. I don't even want to kill that Murderer anymore." Well, she'd definitely give it that. Honestly rooming with Gwen was a terrible fucking idea, but the blonde seemed to think it was the best way to keep an eye on her, at least for a bit. So far it worked out and Crimson hadn't done anything apart from make some insults, which Gwen mostly ignored anyway, "I'm satisfied with our deal. I stay alive, you gain power. We both win."

She spat out the gum without a word and walked out only to almost immediately bump into her manager. Thankfully Crimson had already returned inside; she was not looking forward to explain why she had it on her.

"Oh, hey, Brad." She looked up at the taller man, "What happened to the Miss. Glamorous Single Mom?"

"She told us she'd never come here again." He gave her a sheepish smile and a careless shrug.

"Aww, such a shame." She liked Brad. They didn't hang out after work or anything, but he was a decent boss. Better than the one at the place she last worked at, at least, "I should probably go anyway. My shift's over."

"Oh, yeah..." He scratched the back of his dark hair awkwardly, "Hey...now that we're officially off shift, you wanna go...out or something? Like, get something to eat? I figured you wouldn't wanna watch a movie."

MJ blinked and didn't say anything for a few seconds, "Are you...asking me out on a date?" Was that even allowed? Sure this wasn't exactly Starktech, but rules were rules.

"I mean, only if you're cool with it."

"Oh...well, that's..."

'He's harmless. Go for it.'

'So glad you approve.' MJ grit her teeth and took a deep breath, "Sorry, I don't think that's a good idea. I mean, you're my boss and all." That wasn't the reason. She didn't even care about that or the fact that he'd already graduated college and this was his peak.

It was everything else; especially this extra passenger of hers. Again she felt a burst of jealousy for Gwen and Peter. They knew each other's problems and they didn't have to walk on eggshells on each other. What was she supposed to tell Brad - tell anyone, really - when she kissed them and a tongue the size of their fucking face came out? She knew Crimson would do it just to fuck with her.

'I would not.'

"Oh...yeah, guess you're right." Brad deflated and MJ felt like an ass, "I'll see ya around, I guess.."

"Sure..."

She went to her usual alley and shifted to her Scarlet Spider costume "Ha..." She looked at her reflection on a nearby car window. She looked silly, wearing the same halloween costume she wore that time they tried to cheer Gwen up. It made her look innocent, like she was just one of the dozens of people who bought into the Hero Craze.

That was the farthest thing from the truth.

'You remember where to go?'

"Yeah." They'd put a tracker on a scumbag last night. She overheard some women in the movie theater talking about it a few nights. Typical case - wife beating asshole, petty criminal, somebody no one would miss. She didn't kill most of the time, but she'd done it enough to call herself a killer. Gwen knew. She didn't say anything, but she knew. She didn't judge, at least not too harshly. Having Spider-Man for a boyfriend probably helped with that.

The place was small. MJ raised the window and came inside. The woman was gone now - they'd celebrated her officially leaving her husband a couple of nights ago. Of course, she overheard the bastard making threats soon after when she put the tracker on him. He wasn't going to let her go.

'He's not here.'

'I know.' The tracker said he was out in the city. She came here to wait...and find something to change her mind. She did this almost every time. She needed to be sure of what she was doing. Sometimes she found proof that the bastards weren't completely irredeemable. Sometimes she had to stretch it - maybe they went to church every Sunday, maybe they gave a stranded person a lift one time. Anything to show they should just be put in prison or maybe they were harmless enough...and if not, then...

Fuck, she was a serial killer.

'You say that like it's a bad thing.'

She was spared from arguing back when she heard the car outside, "Come on, bitch! Quit strugglin'!" He wasn't alone. MJ jumped into the roof and blended into the surface, hiding almost completely unseen in the shadows. She was far too used to this.

What she saw made any and all hesitation melt away. The man carried his bound ex-wife inside as she struggled. Her face was bruised and covered in dried blood while her mouth was gagged, though she still tried to scream and cry through the dirty cloth. He dragged her to the living room table and set her down on top of it, knocking down beer bottles and days old takeout.

"Thought you could get away, huh?!" He brandished a knife inches from her face, "Now I'm gonna make sure you know what happens when you-"

She sliced his arm off. He was stunned silent for a few seconds, just staring at the stump where his hand used to be, and then he screamed. The man stumbled back to the corner in a panic, arm pressed against his chest, while MJ dropped from the roof in front of the woman. Her eyes were wide with fear.

Mary Jane cut the bindings on her arms and legs and pulled down the gag, "He won't hurt you anymore." Her fear was slowly replaced by understanding as MJ pulled her up, "Leave now."

"Th-Thank you." The woman nodded gratefully and stumbled her way out. She'd call the police. Whatever she was about to do she had to do it fast.

"F-Fuck..." The piece of shit cried and squealed. She didn't feel any pity. She'd seen his smile, seen the way he laughed when he had that knife to a defenseless woman's face, "Wh-What do you-"

She grabbed his head and tossed him to the opposite wall. He cried out weakly and and spat out blood, "Sh-Shit..." His crying worsened and snot mixed with the blood, "P-Please, just..." She formed her right arm into a blade. His eyes widened and he found the strength to scramble, "Fuck, please! Please! J-Just take me in! Please" She stalked closer without a word, "I-I won't do it again, I promise! I-"

She stabbed the blade down and he screamed. The symbiotic blade cut through what was between his legs, "I see you out of prison, and you'll wish I killed you tonight." She pulled the blade black and blood splattered the wall. She heard the sirens already. They could take him to a hospital and fix him up, assuming the pain and shock didn't kill him.

Mary Jane jumped out the window and swung away back to where she usually went, 'We should've killed him,' Crimson said, as expected. Mary Jane ignored it, 'You always do this. We find scumbags who don't deserve any mercy and you always give them it. You don't take nearly enough.'

'That wasn't mercy.'

'He still has his life.'

'So does Evil Cindy.' And Red Skull's daughter and that Jack-o-Lantern bastard. She wouldn't call breathing a blessing for any of them, 'Besides, it's not like I always leave them alive.' That thought came out more bitter than she intended.

This was what she did with her time - hunting down the scumbags who slipped through the cracks ever since the Defenders decided skipping town was the best way to cool off. Sometimes she found them, sometimes Norah helped her. Abusive husbands, rapists, pimps...the 'shitstains of humanity', as Norah once called them. Norah knew what she was doing. She never said anything about it; just called her up every time there was someone who slipped through the cracks the police couldn't or wouldn't get.

She stopped and sat at the edge of the roof of an all too familiar building, taking off her mask as she went. On the dimly lit window across from her was Philipp Watson, drunk and sleeping with some prostitute as always. She just watched him. She came here every time she finished one of her nighttime 'excursions'. She didn't know why. Did she want to make herself feel angry, or did she want to convince herself that she wasn't too far gone if she didn't kill that bastard who called himself a father?

His arm was still in a sling. She remembered that all too well - she spotted him stumbling in an alley drunk as always and he got mugged by a couple of young punks. She was there, she could've stopped it. All of them saw her. Her dad thought he was saved - a hero come to his rescue - and the punks looked torn between fighting and running.

She just sat on the wall and watched as they beat him and took his shoes. The punks were confused but they didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth. Her dad cussed her out, screamed he always knew that the freaks were useless. She just swung away without a word.

Her phone suddenly rang. She looked down at the screen and narrowed her eyes at the emergency message from Gwen. That was something she used only for emergencies, 'Time to go.' She threw one last scathing look at her deadbeat of a father and swung to the texted address.


Hell's Kitchen hadn't changed at all.

Matt crouched over the edge of the tower and focused. He heard the cries, the screams and pleas for help; enough to make any sane man lose himself. Thankfully he'd lost that a long time ago.

The Beast might have left, but traces of its influence lingered. Even before its possession of him it held a special attachment to the Kitchen. He'd never gotten a straight answer when he asked. It could've been anything from some ritual taking place on the land in eons past to just liking the name.

Either way the effects were all too clear. While the rest of New York slowly but surely clawed its way to progress the Kitchen lingered, a festering, bloated corpse that the city continued to drag. The Beast liked it that way. It fed on the fear and misery of its denizens and amplified any and all sin and vice to those that lived inside. He wondered idly how people like Lana Baumgartner or even he himself would've ended up if they weren't born here.

The cynical, biting part of himself already whispered that nothing would've changed. Perhaps he might've delayed his descent, but in the end he would've fallen into the web of corruption that plagued New York all the same.

A voice message came on his phone. He pressed it against his ear and smiled bitterly when he heard Karen's message. She got him.

He jumped off the tower and let the winds buffet him. For a brief moment he considered not shooting out the club and just letting the ground meet him. It certainly would've derailed Stick's and Karen's plans for him and he was sure Peter would find some momentary amusement at the fact that he'd committed suicide. He'd probably visit his grave, if only to spit on it. Only his mother - his dear, sweet mother - would mourn him.

His arm moved before he could think otherwise and attached the other end of the club to a nearby railing. He swung in a wide arc and thought of the irony that he was swinging through the air like Spider-Woman was wont to do.

The musings didn't last long. He'd just barely attached the club for another swing when he heard it: an arrow coming straight for him. Matt twisted his body to avoid the dull tip and only realized his mistake when it suddenly exploded behind him.

Anti-radar chaff.

His vision scrambled and the surroundings blended together into a headache-inducing haze, "Damn it." He landed on a nearby construction site and pulled the billy club. Whoever was coming after him had prepared.

A rush of air from the left. Matt ducked the circular projectile and shot his billy club into another crevice. He couldn't fight like this, not with the walls and ground flowing around like the stormy sea.

He was only halfway to his swing when a heartbeat suddenly came from his right. Someone was kicking him. He tried to twist, but they were too close. Both feet impacted at his right side and he let go of the club. Matt bit his tongue to keep from screaming as he landed and rolled roughly on the rooftop of a smaller building. Even before he landed he knew his ribs were broken.

Matt forced his hands to move and he crawled forward on his fingertips. He tasted blood on his tongue, "Heh..." Three figures landed a short distance behind him. They weren't rushing; they knew he couldn't fight back, "Seems a bit unfair, doesn't it?" he commented airily. The chaff was wearing off and he was beginning to recognize their heartbeats, "If you all wanted to talk, there are better ways to-"

He was cut off when he reached an arm forward and a figure suddenly landed from above and stomped on the outstretched hand hard enough to break bone. This time he couldn't stop himself from breathing out raggedly and choking out a soft scream of pain.

"Move and I break your other hand."

He knew that voice. The only thing he could do was laugh softly as he looked up at the blurry figure, "Ms. Stacy...long time no see." He recognized the others behind him now - Kate Bishop, Samantha Wilson and Mary Jane Watson (likely a replacement for Ms. Moon). No wonder they were prepared, "So...are Wasp and She-Hulk around? Should I expect a building to be thrown on me or to be shrunken down to micrscopic size and stepped on?"

"Quiet." Ms. Wilson pulled him up to a sitting position and pulled his arms roughly behind his back, ignoring the damage to his right limb. She bound his hands together with vibranium cuffs, "Matt Murdock, you're under arrest."

"Yes, that's what I figured." He forced out a laugh and grit his teeth at the next flare of pain that ran down his injured arm and side, "You know the vibranium is unnecessary? I've already lost the Beast's power. I'm just a normal man."

"Yeah, sure." Ms Stacy snorted, "Now shut up already. We're throwing you into the deepest, darkest hole we can find and throwing away the key?"

"Oh? On what charges?"

"Being the Kingpin, leading an international ninja terrorist group, a few parking tickets here and there. Any of these ringing any bells?" Ms. Bishop said lightly.

"I would argue extenuating circumstances considering my mental state." Ms. Stacy's symbiote thrummed. She was angry, "If you must know, I'm going on trial come the next week. You can ask Karen Page if you don't believe me."

"The D.A? Seriously?" Ms. Watson asked.

"Even if I wasn't, that's not the only reason this would be unethical. Peter-"

As soon as the name was out of his mouth Ms. Stacy lashed out and grabbed his neck. Unlike Peter she skipped grabbing his armor entirely and gripped his neck in full, raising him up with one hand as if he was a child, "Stay away from him." Matt let lout a choking breath when her grip tightened, "I don't care how 'innocent' you are, Murdock. You come near him and I will end you."

"I...don't mean him any harm..." His voice came out in a soft rasp, "We're...working together...to fight the Hand..."

Her grip slackened, however slightly, and her next words were almost a growl, "Bullshit."

"Call him here, then. I have no reason to lie about this."

"You're not going anywhere near him."

"Spider-Woman," Ms. Wilson cut in, "I called Karen...Spider-Man's on his way here."

"What?! No fucking-"

"This isn't a discussion. He's on his way and we need to meet him."

They dragged him inside the partially completed hallway of the construction site and sat him on the corner wall. Ms. Bishop and Ms. Watson kept a close eye on him while Ms. Stacy paced and threw him frequent dirty looks. The only one who seemed to not mind his presence was Ms. Wilson, who focused all her attention to talking to Karen on the phone. She'd already lost - as soon as you let Karen talk it was only a matter of time.

Minutes passed and eventually Peter arrived. Ms. Stacy pulled the mask of her suit back and took him in a tight embrace, "Peter..." She continued the hug for a few seconds before reluctantly separating, "What's going on? He said that..."

"He said you two were working together," Ms. Watson finished for her, "Is that true, Tiger?"

"...It's complicated." He practically saw his scowl, "Page made a deal...and she's got a leash on him."

"No..." Ms. Stacy shook his head, "No! You can't be serious! You know what he did-"

"I know, Gwen! I know..." Mr. Crest...he doubted Peter would ever forgive him for that act, "Let's meet back up at your place, okay? We'll talk about it."

"So...what do we do with him?" Ms. Bishop gestured to him.

"We let him go so he can blow the whistle on the Kingpin's entire empire." Ms. Wilson said in a clipped tone. She dragged him up to his feet roughly and unlocked the cuffs with more force than necessary, "But make no mistake, Murdock. The second you step out of line not even Karen's word will save you. Are we understood?"

"Crystal, Ms. Wilson." He smiled.

Ms. Wilson, Ms. Watson and Ms. Bishop all left, leaving just the three of them. Peter stepped closer while Ms. Stacy watched them both warily, "...I'm guessing she made you a tantalizing offer," Matt said softly.

"You could say that."

They didn't say anything else. For a second he thought Peter would punch him again but he and Ms. Stacy just left without another word, leaving him alone in the abandoned hallway, "Heh..." He sat back down and hissed. The pain in his ribs flared with every breath and his right arm was most definitely broken. Even with Stick's old teachings he'd need a cast for a week or two.

He smiled and started laughing, trying to ignore the tears of pain that threatened to burst. That went better than expected.


"Here..."

Gwen accepted the cup of hot chocolate without a word and took a small sip. She felt naked, sitting in bed in nothing but her underwear and Peter's shirt. All she could focus on right now was the hot chocolate on her tongue; anything else and she would've exploded.

"...Do I even wanna know how you found out about Matt?"

"Lana called me. Apparently a friend of hers got 'saved' by him and she tried to warn you too." Her grip on the cup tightened, "When I heard that he was running around dressed like the fucking devil I just...I lost it. I called the Avengers, but Cindy was busy, She-Hulk's out of town and Wasp was in the middle of an experiment. I thought...I thought that he..."

"He didn't..." He shook his head and tried to offer her a calming smile, "I would've killed him if he tried."

"Yeah..." He was definitely weaker than before. Human, he said. It would've been so easy to toss him off the building and watch him crash on the pavement, "So...you two are really working together?"

"Stick and Page are using him as an attack dog. He steps out of line and he dies, then he goes to hell." Good, she thought. It was where he deserved, "Page offered me a deal. It was...hard to refuse, so for now we're stuck with each other."

"I dunno about this, Peter. You think you can trust him?"

"No, but I don't have to. Just have to trust that the ones holding his leash want the Hand as dead as I do. That, I can trust. Only thing Stick cares about is his war. Nothing else."

"I don't like this."

"Neither do I."

She finished off her cup of hot chocolate and set the glass down on the bedside table, "Well, just stay as far away from him as much as you can. Uh...speaking of, did you think about my offer? I'd feel better if I knew where you were now that that bastard's running around."

He looked away. That was not a good sign.

"Peter...?"

"Page wants me to stay with Matt." She blinked, then blinked again, then pinched herself to see if she was dreaming. She wasn't, "She thinks it'll be better if I keep an eye on him...thinks that'll it'll help, somehow."

"Uh...is she fucking crazy?!" She screamed loudly, likely startling their neighbors. She didn't care, "No, you are not rooming with Matt fucking Murderdock! I mean, you wouldn't even consider it, right?!" No answer. Her blood ran cold, "Peter...please tell me you're not-"

"She said she'd owe me a favor," he said softly, "Gwen...I may be able to get Bullseye out of Hell. If I do this I get a chance to get him out. He's down there because of me, because he saved my life."

"And now you're going to throw it away by sleeping in the same roof with the guy who sent ninjas to kill you." She reached two shaky hands out and cupped both sides of his face, "No, Peter, please don't do this. There are other ways you can get a favor from her, ways that don't involve you doing something so damn suicidal." She pressed their foreheads together, "Please. Just stay here. With me."

"Gwen-"

"Please."

"Gwen, I...I'm..."


So...who'll Peter be rooming with? His overprotective girlfriend who can be just a tad smothering or the reformed(?) Kingpin trying to make a go at the Hero business? Oh, and before anyone gets any smart ideas - no, I don't plan to have Peter/Matt/Gwen room together. Gwen would probably beat Matt to death on the first night if we went that route.

And like I said before, MJ ended up being pretty anti-heroic. I wanted to make her lighter, but having Carnage as her symbiote makes this a very difficult process. At least she mostly sticks to scarring and maiming rather than killing every criminal like Bullseye or Punisher. She's more on Moon Knight's level, though she does angst about this.

Question:

1. So I'm curious; did people find Matt sympathetic when he was getting his ass beat by Peter and, especially, the Avengers? Or do people still consider him (not the Beast) guilty of what happened in V1 and feel he deserves it? I'm still deciding on how much POV he should get.

Review Answers:

NeverendingZero - Bad feeling? Why? The worst they'd get are noise complaints. As for the plot, it's more like a cohesive comic - each lead has their own baddie but they're all tangentially connected together so it's not completely disjointed.

Bagration - Hope the edge here wasn't too bad.

ObscureAbsurdity - What references? The only intentional one I kinda made was Lana being in a private school and I planned that before watching SV.

HopeIsAnIllusion - Netlix version. He needs that padding.

Davidashton2099 - Red spandex pure insanity. Might appear later, might not. Depends.

Deathtowaterbottles - Considering how wonky Earth-65 is, who's to say Miles Warren is insane and obsessed with Gwen?

Brave2000 - Noir still has nightmares about France.

Titan616 - I'm pretty sure if Chat and Ladybug came to New York Peter would run away screaming :P Anyway, it's come down to Gwen and Matt. Unless we get a landslide, Cindy's out.

Vengeance208 - I ask questions cause it helps get the audience invested and because half the reason I'm writing is for the readers :) I don't find your review arrogant; as I mentioned before I love long feedback. Also, my main complaint about Peter/Gwen is many people tend to dismiss their very real flaws and say they're 'made for each other'. If they took the good and the bad I'd be cool with it.

AnUnorthodoxDecision - Cindy's out. Now it's between Matt and Gwen.

That One Guy - Jean De Wolfe is Wraith in this story.

Koryu - Thanks for the compliment :D

Guest 1 - Gwen does nudge Peter to be more normal by hanging out on campus. It's...slow going.

Cha0s4ever - Gwen and Peter would definitely be kinda mushy/have a newlyweds feel. Noir and Matt is more dysfunctional.

Guest 2 - Matt teaming up with a civilian is difficult since no one else trusts him, especially not Norah who was the one who first exposed him.

Guest 3 - Peter does still get banged up; it's just less frequent.

RedHood001 - Huh, been a while since I saw ya :) And yeah, Matt and Peter would be kinda destructive, but some people would like that.

Guest 4 - Hmm...I'd definitely be interested in doing podcast sections. Maybe little omakes.