First things first, I'd like to thank Nerdman3000 for massively editing the Through the Looking Glass trope page :D It doesn't really matter considering it's already been three years or so since I started the story, but as a troper it makes me happy to see. For anyone interested, you can find a link to it by going to the tvtropes Spider-Man Fanfic Recs page and checking under General Fics.
Anyway, on to the votes. I won't bother with exact votes now, but the results came back and Mary Jane staying won out. This means we'll generally get less romance but at least we get more MJ Carnage plot with all three characters.
Speaking of, MJ got way more focus than I intended; she's gotten more than Gwen as of this chapter. I promise the next chapter will be Gwen-centric so we can finally get some actual Superhero action in this fic rather than Gwen worrying about living with her boyfriend.
Another thing that got focus on by reviewers are people wanting Peter to attend ESU and be normal. I'll ask about this in the lower AN cause this was an unexpected turn.
MJ had never felt more like a third wheel in her entire life.
The uncomfortable redhead shifted on the left side of the couch and tried to focus on the webflicks show. It was something about a bunch of uncomfortably hot teenagers who looked about 25 solving a murder mystery - typical nightly trash. Normally she would've already been making jokes about how goofy the performances were or playfully complaining about looking for something else to rot their brains with.
Now all her attention was drawn to the other two people on the couch.
She shifted on the couch again and gave the two Spiders a sidewards glance. Gwen took up the right side of the couch and propped herself up one her elbows while Peter took the center, leaving little space for gaps between the three of them. It didn't take her long to notice that Gwen's feet were on his lap and he was giving her...a foot massage?
He didn't even seem to notice that he was doing it. His thumb flicked up across the top of right foot while her left moved and tucked itself under his thigh for warmth. Gwen's expression showed no signs that she noticed it either and she made another comment about the latest joke falling flat. MJ wiggled her own toes in her flip flops and swallowed the lump in her throat.
MJ pointedly looked back at the screen, only to immediately regret it when the next scene showed two of of the actors making out. It was that time on the show again, "Ugh, really? Those two don't even have any chemistry," Gwen complained loudly. It did little to stop the heat on MJ's cheeks.
This was a bad idea. She wasn't a stranger to being the third wheel around couples; sure it sucked, but she was used to it. Band always kept her too busy and after Crimson...well, dating was off the table unless she wanted to risk cutting someone's dick off...unintentionally.
'Jealous?'
'Shut up.' The right side of her mouth twitched. Thankfully the scene cut away before the actress' breasts were out and the sight of the dead body with surprisingly good make up did little to stimulate her. Ever since she'd made the deal the sight of violence and gore on her hormones had dramatically decreased. Which was good; she didn't fancy looking at torture porn to get off.
'Nothing wrong with liking what you like.'
'I said shut it.'
The worst part of it was that Crimson was right. She was jealous, though a lot of people probably would've been confused as all hell if she told them she wasn't sure of who. She didn't like Gwen's feet on Peter's lap, but was it because she wanted to be the one getting a foot massage or be the one giving it? She bit her lip and tightened her grip on the couch's armrest.
She'd confessed to Gwen over a year ago and they hadn't said anything about it since. She knew Gwen well enough to figure that she wouldn't have told Peter anything about it, so that was one less load of her mind. She didn't know how much of the 30's he had left, but she got the feeling he wouldn't have been as accepting of her comments as Gwen had been.
Gwen tried to talk to her throughout the show, but MJ pushed her off. She wasn't blind. She knew what Gwen was doing - pushing, prodding, trying to get through the cracks now that she had someone else to fall back on. Peter seemed to notice the tense atmosphere in the room but said nothing. She appreciated it; the last thing she needed was two sets of pitying looks.
Eventually the show ended and she made an excuse of being tired to go back to her room. She didn't leave immediately, even if she was really tempted to. Gwen checked in on her sometimes to see if she was still there. The blonde hadn't left any of her little spiderlings to spy on her - not yet, at least. MJ didn't want to give her a reason to either.
She spent the next couple of hours just looking up at the ceiling. Crimson stirred impatiently and she ignored it. They both wanted to go out, but damn if she couldn't let the damn thing stew.
Eventually the clock ticked for 1 am and she was confident enough that Gwen was finally asleep. MJ opened the window and shivered slightly at the cold air that greeted her, "I need a better costume." She pulled up the hood of her sleeveless hoodie and jumped up to the opposite wall to start climbing. She couldn't stick to walls naturally like Gwen or Cindy, but her claws were sharp enough to leave some small holes to grab onto.
'Know where to go?'
'Remind me.' This was the only time the two of them even came close to getting along.
She felt a pull to the south and she followed. The webbing she used wasn't like Gwen's and Cindy's. It was razor thin and blood red, the tips stabbing into the surfaces it hit and disappearing back into her body as soon as she let them go. Still, enough people had caught pictures of her mid-swing to decide that she had some sort of connection to Gwen. Just another Spider, they thought.
Which made it all the more necessary that they never realized she was the one who was running around leaving scumbags to hang on poles.
This next shining example of humanity was Carl Burbank, an esteemed soldier with a chest full of medals who also happened to be a complete piece of human garbage. He'd been stalking a woman with a young son and, lo and behold, beat the kid to death and had his buddies take turns on the woman when she tried to stop him. Judge was in his pocket so all he got was a slap on the wrist and some mandatory psyche meetings to 'deal with his obvious PTSD', which he didn't even bother to go to.
This one almost did slip through the cracks; only reason she knew about it was cause Norah managed to dig the guy up. Apparently Mr. Burbank had a liking for the sauce and he ended up bragging to anyone within earshot - one of which was one of Norah's sources - about how slick he was for getting away with it. A few follow ups with a grieving sister and parents later and they had all the info they needed.
Burbank wasn't alone when she found him. Mary Jane crawled through the slightly ajar window into the dark room. She counted him and six of his buddies in the next room over, which fit the numbers of what Norah's sources said, 'More meat for the grinder.' She could practically see Crimson licking its lips and she knew why. There was no leaving these bastards for the police. They were leaving here either with her dead or them in bodybags. No scouting places out so she could change her mind.
The seven of them were gathered around a small table with cards and chips in front of them with only a couple of bulbs above for light. She could charge in there now, but the last thing she wanted was for one of them to run if she missed. Without Crimson in control she wasn't as adept at using her powers, not like when they fought evil Cindy.
Thankfully the kitchen she'd landed in led to the basement and she knew places like these weren't too different from one another. She stalked down the stairs to the basement and found the breaker box. Damn thing looked barely held together and she almost felt bad slashing through it.
The resulting blackout was instantaneous, "What the fuck!" Someone screamed above followed by a bout of cursing, "Shit, breaker musta tripped again. I'll check it out."
Perfect.
She crouched behind the stairwell and waited. Slow footsteps passed over followed by a flashlight scanning the wall, "Hey, what the fu-"
That was as far as he got before a blade cut through his stomach. He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out, "Hey, guys! I need a little help fixing this thing!" 'He' said, barely able to widen his eyes in disbelief. Another little gift Crimson had. At first she'd thought it was morbid, using people like puppets, but then she remembered she ran around looking for people to maim and kill.
Two more sets of footsteps came down. Mary Jane tossed the soon to be dead body on the corner and jumped up to the space right above the doorway.
People never looked up.
There was enough distance between the two that she could grab the the stockier one lagging behind. She 'webbed' his mouth shut and pulled him up. Poor bastard barely had time to struggle before she broke his neck and let him drop to the stairs with a sickening crack.
His much lankier friend turned around just in time for her to jump on top of him. There was no grace or finesse to it like Gwen. She grabbed the tall guy's head and, without so much as a quip or a warning, slammed it down. The back of his skull broke on the first hit, but she kept going at least four more times. By the time she was done her hands and the floor were covered in blood.
"What the fuck?!"
Her eyes widened and her head snapped to the top of the staircase. One of Burbank's buddies. Mary Jane didn't have time to think; she already heard the other two scrambling. She ran up the stairs and cut his throat open as she passed, "Burbanks!" She got to the living room and found it empty with the door already ajar. The bastards were running.
'Don't let them escape!'
'I know!' She rushed out the door and looked around briefly, 'Do you know where they are?'
'Alley across the street!' It growled, 'This wouldn't have happened if I was in control!'
'Keep dreaming!' She jumped up the length of the small building and saw them racing down the alley. She couldn't tell which was Burbanks, 'Screw it.' She jumped down to the closest one just as they crossed into the empty parking lot. The guy turned around and she got enough illumination from the streetlight above to tell her that it was not, in fact, Burbanks.
She brought a clawed hand through his face right before a gunshot rang out. Mary Jane's head snapped up and she saw Burbanks pointing a pistol at her. At first she thought that he'd shot her, but then they both noticed the pool of rapidly growing blood in his midsection. Burbanks looked down his mouth parted open slightly in shock right before he fell on his back.
"Who...?"
She stood up and turned around to the source of the shot. Her adrenaline immediately washed away and she felt like she'd been doused in ice cold water when she saw Peter lower his handgun, his expression hidden underneath his mask, "T...Tiger..." her voice came out soft, meek. How much of that had he seen? Was Gwen around? Why was he even here?
Peter stepped past her without a word and kicked the gun away to keep Burbanks from grabbing it, "What'd this guy do?" he asked, so softly that she almost didn't hear him between Burbanks' moaning.
"...He murdered a baby, and he and his buddies raped the mother."
Peter shot him through the head. Despite her own plans for him Mary Jane couldn't step herself from wincing when the bullet made impact, "Let's go before the police arrive." He nudged his head and holstered his gun. Mary Jane paused. She'd seen him like this before, but was he really the same guy who gave Gwen a foot massage and laughed along with her lame jokes just a few hours ago?
She followed him without a word till they arrived at the top of a small building. Peter took off his mask first and Mary Jane followed, her sweat slicked hair sticking to her face. She felt naked standing there without her face covered and the blood still on her fingers, "How...How did you know I was here?" she forced herself to say. Anything was better than the silence.
"I heard you leave and followed. It wasn't easy."
"...Is Gwen with you?" She cringed as soon as the words were out.
"No. She was asleep when I left." Mary Jane let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. Somehow knowing only Peter knew relieved her. Gwen knew what she did, but she'd only ever seen the aftermaths; never the graphic process, "...How long have you been doing this?"
"A few months..." She walked past him and sat at the edge of the building, heels clicking against the wall. Anyone who looked up would just see a woman in a cheap and ill-fitting costume, "I...made a deal with Crimson back when we were fighting Cindy's evil twin."
"Crimson? Well, guess it's a better name than Webster."
'I still preferred Carnage.'
'Shut it.' She pursed her lips and looked ahead as Peter sat next to her a short distance away, "Deal was it stops trying to kill Gwen and innocent people. In exchange I look for people who won't be missed instead." Saying it out loud reminded her of just how grim the entire thing was. They'd kept going so far, but how long could she really keep this up?
'You act like humans will stop being terrible. We'll never run out of people to kill for years even if we stick to just this city.'
'That's not the point.'
'Then what is? It's not hard to find targets. We can go to different places if you get tired of New York. I heard that Mexico place is good for it.'
"What if I don't want to keep killing people for the rest of my life?" she said aloud in frustration. Peter didn't say anything about her sudden outburst, "I'm not like Gwen. I wan't something besides costumes and risking my life. I want a life, I don't want to do this forever..." The fingers on her clenched fists turned to claws, "I'm sick of having to hold myself back from killing people. My first instinct shouldn't be to cut someone's neck open!"
'You made the deal.'
"Don't remind me..." She looked to Peter with a bitter smile, "You must think I'm crazy, huh?"
"You kill people and you hear voices, so no, not really." The butterflies in her stomach worsened at the wry smile he gave her. There was no judgement in it, "Trust me, Mary, I've seen and done a hell of a lot worse than that." The blunt admission was comforting in a way. Peter could understand her in a way that Gwen and her perfect symbiote couldn't.
"Yeah, I guess you have..." She raised one knee and hugged it close to herself, "So...what happens now?"
"What do you mean?"
"You're gonna tell Gwen about this." She couldn't stop herself from frowning. So far Gwen had been hesitant to talk to her, but as soon as he said something all that would go away. She couldn't tell which was worse - dealing with Crimson on her own or having Gwen hover over her constantly and tell her what she could and couldn't do for her own good.
"...Do you want me to?"
"No." She hugged her leg tighter, "I...I don't want Gwen to look at me like I'm some kind of monster."
"You're not, and she'd never do that."
"No offense, Tiger, but I'm not the one fucking her." She knew it was bullshit as soon as she said it. So what if she and Gwen weren't in bed? Gwen was one of her best friends and the blonde was so self-sacrificing that she helped people despite the years of scorn and ingratitude she got in return. Gwen wouldn't turn against her now, "I just...I want to control this without being a burden again."
That was a load of shit. She just didn't want to disappoint her any more than she already had. Gwen trusted her and what did she do? Ran around like a fucking serial killer styling herself like an angel of vengeance. She didn't feel bad for the people she went after; she just didn't want Gwen to know it.
"What makes you think you're a burden?" Peter pulled out a cigarette and lit it quickly. Mary Jane waved away the smoke with a frown, "You've seen what we've all dealt with last year and God knows both of us tried to help you."
"And I appreciate it. It's just..."
"...Gwen said you wanted to move out." She took a deep breath and nodded, "Well...I can't force you to stay, but I'll tell you this. I know you think that the best way to handle this is by yourself, but...pushing people away won't help. Trust me, I've been down that road before." He smiled bitterly, "Me and Gwen and the rest of your friends...we're here for you."
"Haha, can't believe I'm getting a lecture on the power of friendship from the Dark Spider." He gave her an unamused look and she grinned. Her next words came before she could stop herself, "Hey, you wanna come over for dinner tomorrow at my place?"
"That's...random."
"Better than talking it out in this rooftop." She shrugged, doing her best to appear calm even if her heart was going miles a minute, "I can't talk to Gwen about this, not yet, but...but you get it. You and Gwen...you're practically in different worlds. When you heard about what that bastard did you didn't even hesitate to gun him down. Gwen could never do that." It was something Mary Jane both loved and worried about when it came to her.
"I suppose." He looked down at the streets below briefly, "You mind if I bring Lana along?"
"Uh...no, not at all," she said softly. It was an odd feeling, being both relieved and disappointed all at once, "The more the merrier."
The left side of his mouth twitched but their phones rang before he could say anything - a text for him and a call for her. For a second she dreaded that it'd be Gwen's name on the screen and was torn on what to feel when she saw her dad's instead, "Sorry." She turned away and answered the call while he read the text. She'd almost ignored it, but curiosity won out. He hadn't called her in years; she was honestly surprised he could still afford a phone.
The sounds of strained breathing came from the other end followed by her dad's voice, soft and strained, "Mary Jane? Sweetie?" Her grip on the phone tightened. Her dad only called her dad when he wanted something. 'Don't tell mommy about this, sweetie', 'She doesn't need to know, sweetie'.
'You know what'll happen if you talk, sweetie.'
"What do you want?" Mary Jane didn't bother to mask the distaste in her voice.
"I...I need your help." She raised a brow. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears and she didn't have any sympathy at all, "Please...come here...please..."
"Why should I?"
"Because I'll die if you don't."
The call cut off. Mary Jane looked down at her phone and pursed her lips. Die? Yeah, right. Probably just another cry for money - that was the only thing he ever needed from them.
"...You gonna go to him?" Peter asked softly.
"I guess." She let out a frustrated breath. Better her than her mom and Gayle, at least, "Sorry to cut this short."
"No problem. I gotta go anyway, just got a message from Page."
"I'll see you around, Tiger."
She was barely out of sight of him when Crimson decidd to butt in again, 'I know what you're doing.'
'What are you on about this time?'
'Your attraction to the boytoy. It's plain as day.' She almost missed the next swing at its sudden laugh, 'Oh, I'm not going to stop you, don't worry. Anything we can take from Stacy I'm all for.'
'It's...It's not like that.'
'Then why were you so disappointed when he invited his hatchling along?' Mary Jane didn't reply, 'Don't worry, your secret's safe with me, Red.'
"...Shut up."
She made it to her dad's house in record time. Mary Jane dropped in a nearby alley and shifted back to a set of casual clothes. As much as she had a love-hate (mostly hate) relationship with the thing she couldn't deny that it was convenient at times. She'd saved hundreds of dollars in Ooper fares alone.
'You're welcome.'
Her dad's place was unlocked when she got there. Mary Jane stepped inside and only managed a slightly raised eyebrow at the sight that greeted her: her dad on his knees, his face swollen and bloody, while two men in suits held him down by his arms. A third in a marginally more fancy suit was sitting close by on the ratty table and his face lit up when he saw her.
"Well, well. Ol' Philly here wasn't lyin'!" Suit guy exclaimed. The southern drawl was immediately distinct to her, "Pretty little thing, ain't ya?"
"What do you want?" Mary Jane crossed her arms. To think just a scant year ago she would've been scared of people like this and running to Gwen for help. Now she he to suppress the urge to chuck the grinning bastard out the window.
"Mary Jane, sweetie-"
"Not talking to you." She didn't so much as turn in his direction, "What do you want? You one of his bookies?"
"In a manner of speakin'." He leaned back on the chair, "See, ol' Philly cheese steak here 'borrowed' some money that he was very quick to assure he was gonna pay back. And for a while he was due on his money like a good little boy, but then tonight we found him inches deep in some sweet little thing 'stead of making his usual payment. Funny that."
"If you know anything about 'Philly cheese steak' you wouldn't have given him a single cent." Mary Jane shrugged.
"Yeah, we're figurin' that now." For a second she almost felt sympathetic to the slimeball. Just another person Philipp Watson screwed over, "See, now this is where you come in." He leaned forward and didn't even try to hide his leer. Mary Jane clenched her fists behind her back to keep them from seeing the clawed tips, "Told us about his pretty little daughter who was doing well for herself."
"Oh really?" This time she did look at him. He actually did have the decency to look guilty at that, though she was way past the point of caring, "And would him calling me over here lead to some kind of scenario where you and your boys try to find other ways that I can pay you back?"
"Whooo-weee, you got big brass ones on ya, girlie." He rubbed his dark mustache and grinned, "I apologize if my checkin' you out gave you the wrong idea, but we are not that kind of organization. We take cash and anything valuable we can sell for said cash. See, boss don't like us wettin' the whistle cause you'd be surprised how many are willin' to go for it. A good few minutes ain't worth it, ya see. We'd lose profits."
"So what do you want?"
"We want you to make a payment for Philly cheese steak here. Cash, check, don't matter."
"Ha..." Mary Jane looked down and smiled wryly. Here her dad was again, drugging her into his problems. She could just walk away. They'd kill him, but that was no skin off her nose. Her mom would feel bad about it for a bit but then she'd remember how much of a waste of skin he was and the years of hell they had under him. It would've taken no effort at all.
The other option, of course, was to kill them. They were loan sharks so chances were they weren't exactly squeaky clean. While she didn't have much sympathy for people who ran into these guys for money, they were criminals all the same.
But then her dad would find out she had powers and then he'd blab to anyone who could hear to try and turn it into his favor and despite everything she didn't want to kill him. She was suddenly reminded of that moral dilemma in her philosophy class about the train. People were all too willing to let one person over three get run over without doing anything but not when you had to pull the lever to switch the tracks.
Besides, she didn't want to kill anyone for him. He didn't deserve that much.
"...I don't have any money now." Suit guy raised a brow, "But I can get some. I'm a model."
"A model?" He looked her up and down again, "Well, you got the looks for it. When can we be expectin' our money then?"
"Next week. I've got a new gig, cash up front." That one wasn't a lie, at least. It was one reason she'd been tempted by the offer. Even the upfront offer was worth months of waiting the counter at the theater, "Here, look at this if you don't believe me." She tossed him the card.
He looked down at the card and whistled, "Kingsley? My daughter loves this guy." He tossed the card into the ground and stood, "Fine then, girlie. Cash next week with interest."
"Fine."
He called his goons over and they dropped her dad on the ground before leaving. Mary Jane looked down at her whimpering 'father' and pursed her lips. She had no idea why she was helping him. He made his bed and now he could lie in it...right?
'Feeling guilty?'
'For what? That was your fault.' She picked him up and set him on the bed none too gently, ignoring his groans. Despite her words she couldn't deny the bubbling feeling in her gut. She nearly killed him over a year ago and hadn't even checked in at all afterwards. Sure he didn't deserve it, but she had to be better than that.
'She says, after killing six people less than an hour ago and watched him get mugged just a week ago...'
Mary Jane sighed and walked out the door without looking back. She needed to clear her head...
A museum. This was new.
Peter jumped through the window without touching any of the panes and landed on the on the room's beams. Page told him to come here because of a break in. She wouldn't have bothered if it was just a bunch of idiots trying to pawn of a thousand year old jar, "Hmm..." He closed his eyes and focused. He saw the figures through the walls. Too many to be museum staff, and he was pretty sure security guards weren't supposed to be carrying swords around.
Here they go again.
Peter clicked twice on Gwen's webshooter and shot towards the grate to the next room. Thankfully the museum was poorly lit and no one noticed him walking on the beams. He looked down at the assembled crowd and sighed at the suits and oni masks they wore. Hand goons, probably belonged to Murakami or Gao going by the suits they wore. Bakuto tended to go for cultists and Sowande preferred mercenaries.
"Spread out and find the scroll." The one in front, presumably the leader, said. The goons split off into their own groups while the leader went to the backroom. He counted at least a dozen of them. Best if he didn't make any noise.
He waited till only two remained in the backroom before he grabbed the closest one and and tugged him up to the ceiling. He didn't have time to scream before he was covered in a blanket of paralytic webbing. That new part of his gift wasn't too useful in most situations, but at least it kept people from trying to scream.
Maybe that was why Gwen wanted him to try it...he shook his head. Not the time or place.
The second one on patrol noticed her partner's absence and looked around. Peter jumped down on top of her and punched her in the face hard, breaking through the mask to expose the face underneath. Japanese by the looks of her with nondescript features. Murakami's then - Gao tended to focus on the more foreign members so they could blend in to different surroundings.
He zipped back up to the rafters and made his way to the East Hall. The remaining 10 had split off in groups of 5 and he knew from experience that these guys were suicidal in an open fight. It didn't matter if their patron was gone - Murakami trained his fighters to treat every fight like it was their last. At least Sowande's troops had the decency to cut and run when they figured it wasn't worth it.
Two of them were guarding the entrance. Peter tossed a mine into the wall and it began to sound out mimicked footsteps, "Let's check it out." The burly man told his shorter compatriot. His partner nodded and followed behind him...just in time for the mine to grab him and pull him into the wall. Peter jumped onto his stunned partner and webbed him to the floor before punching the struggling goon pinned to the wall.
The remaining three in the group we bunched up together and destroying the stands. Peter pursed his lips and looked around till he found the light switch on a nearby wall. Amazing how the smallest thing could be used.
He turned it off.
Peter rushed towards them and disabled them as quickly as he could. One of them managed to scream something out to alert their buddies before Peter knocked her out - perfect. Peter disappeared in a wisp of smoke (just in case) and pulled out a flashbang. Murakami also trained his goons to go in groups. Safety in numbers; a lesson he didn't take himself. Better if he got them all in one go.
The remaining five were barely in the room before he tossed the flashbang right at the center. The sudden brightness made them stumble back and Peter jumped down. He made sure to either web them down or snap an arm or a leg; it was the only way to be sure they wouldn't get back up again outside of just putting a bullet through their skull.
Peter snapped the last goon's arm and punched him in the head, "Last one..." Only the leader was left. He sighed and made his way back to the entrance of the backroom. He said they were looking for a scroll, right? He could only assume that meant another ritual of some kind. He shook his head. What happened to the days when he just had to deal with criminals trying to make a buck.
The leader wasn't in the backroom. Peter's eyes narrowed and he stepped inside, looking around warily. The backdoor led to some kind of storage room. The dim flourescent lighting and shelves full of crates contrasted heavily, "Hm..." He walked towards the camera hanging on the wall and picked it up. This didn't look like it belonged here-
Spider-sense.
Footsteps from behind. Peter made no show of noticing and continued to hold the camera with one hand while the other inched towards the gun on his jacket holster. A shot to the knee would keep him down.
He turned around and raised his gun just when something smacked the guy from behind hard. The guy fell on his face and the figure from behind grinned, "Hey, Ben."
Norah.
"Summers." He webbed the leader down and handed her the camera. She looked different. Her hair was longer and pulled into a ponytail and he made out a thin, faded scar on her right cheek close to her eye. She wore a brown leather jacket, a peach scarf, dark jeans and boots. It didn't draw attention, which was a rarity for her.
"Nice to see you too." She rolled her eyes playfully and punched his shoulder, "We should go."
"What are you doing here?"
"Who do you think told Karen about the break-in?" She hooked the camera around her neck again and checked the contents, "The Kingpin Empire trial's next week and people are trying to offload as much as they can. This was Fisk's otaku stas so Robbie told me to check it out, especially since the owner was 'close friends' with our dearly departed big Willie."
"Owner? Where is she then?"
"Those creeps were interrogating her about some kind of scroll. She wasn't much help, so they gagged her and stuffed her in a closet. Pretty nice of them, actually." Hardly. Murakami just didn't like leaving dead bodies; that got the police antsy, "Did some sneaking around and..."
"...What did you do?"
She winked and, with the most audacious grin on her face, pulled out a small scroll from her pocket, "Shadowed one of the goons who found this, so I knocked him out and took it. Figured it'd be better if these guys didn't get their hands on it."
"Nice job." He wasn't going to comment on it technically being theft. She probably wouldn't have cared, "We need to get out of here then. Murakami's like a bloodhound when it comes to what he wants."
"Then I guess it's a good thing that the owner cut the cameras before I even got here. Guess she didn't want anyone to see what she was smuggling in these things." She crossed her arms, "We should probably tell the cops that too. Robbie sent me here cause he was worried Fisk's old buddies were using the statues to smuggle drugs into the city."
"I'm on it." He pulled out his phone and tapped the third person on the speed dial. It only rang twice before she answer, "Hey, Cin?"
"Pete? I'm kinda busy, sorry-"
"There's been a break in at the museum by some of my old ninja friends." Norah began to pick the door leading to the back alley, "They were looking for something here, but it's not just that. Fisk's old contacts might've been using the art pieces here to smuggle things into the city. You're in good with the cops now, think you can get them here to check?"
"Well, since you asked so nicely." She sighed, "Alright, but please don't make this a thing. I'm not Commisioner Gordon."
"Dunno what that means." He cut the call and followed Norah out into the alley, "Where to now."
"My place."
Norah's new apartment was small and nondescript, which she attributed to the cheap pricing and the lack of questions asked by the landlord, "Benjamin, I'm home!" she said as soon as she was inside. Immediately Dog zipped out of the adjacent bedroom and scratched her heels with the telltale smile on his face. Norah took care of the little guy ever since he left the city and at this point he was more her dog than his. He didn't mind; Dog seemed to pick his owners himself.
Dog noticed his presence and barked happily, focusing all his attention on him. Norah laughed and shucked off her jacket, exposing the gray button up shirt underneath, "Looks like he missed you." She set the scroll down on the table and picked up her laptop as she sat on the couch, "Speaking of, you owe me a year of child support, mister! Dog food ain't cheap!"
"And neither's the rest of that stuff." He picked up the pug and stared at the assorted toys, bowls and even a small bed on the corner of the bedroom, "And wait, did you just call him Benjamin?"
"Yep. Just cause you're too lazy to name our kid doesn't mean I am." He was just gonna ignore that. A year later and her jokes never got any funnier, "Anyway, I didn't say it before, but it's nice to see you again. Somehow I knew we'd meet up again like this."
"That makes two of us." He sat beside her on the couch with Dog between them, "Looks like you picked up some souvenirs." He gestured to her cheek.
"What, this? Yeah, I was dealing with some Darkweb hackers who ran a red room. They got me a bit before I turned the tables." She scratched at the scar somewhat self-consciously, "You wanna know the worse part? Those guys weren't even the worst I had to deal with. Remind me to tell you about a creep by the name of Dollmaker when I get a few drinks in." She shuddered, "Thank God I had Frank's gun on me."
"Dollmaker? I heard rumors about that guy..."
"Chances are they're all true." She stood and grabbed two cans of beer on the wall and tossed one to him, "But enough about me. You recognize that scroll?"
"Hm..." He unfurled it and scanned through the lettering. He'd picked up on languages in his year of traveling. Not enough to be mistaken for a natural, but enough to converse pretty fluently. He scanned through the faded letters and the picture, "My fuedal Japanese is rusty, but it mostly translates to 'The broken pieces can be repaired to something new'. I think."
"What's that mean?"
"Who knows." He rolled the scroll up again, "The Hand put too much stock into legends and fairy tales.
"Do you know what they're doing?"
"Trying to keep breathing." He opened the beer and drank down a heavy gulp, "They've been alive for centuries, Summers. Alive and powerful. At this point they don't have a goal outside of staying alive and keeping the power they spent years stealing and killing for." His grip on the can tightened, "They'll dress it up, but at the end of the day they're all cowards scared of what's waiting for them."
"Good to see your sense of drama hasn't changed." Norah rolled her eyes playfully, "Anyway, I'm gonna do some research on this and another case. Make yourself at home."
"Sure..." He looked down at the can and said his next words without facing her, "You know about Mary's thing, right?"
Her fingers stopped typing briefly before she continued without missing a beat, "Sure," she said casually.
"...You're helping her?"
"Sure."
"Should I even ask why?"
"Because I don't know what else to do." She was still typing like nothing was wrong, "I tried to help her. The two of us spent months just...trying to rein her in. It didn't help. She made a deal with that monster and she couldn't just ignore that. That and...maybe MJ isn't as against it as she says."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't mean that she likes killing people or anything. I mean that...the power she gets, the fact that she's making sure scumbags don't get away with their crimes and that they can't hurt anyone else...I think it makes her happy. There's nothing else I can do at this point, Ben. I'm sorry."
"Wasn't looking for an apology." He couldn't judge. How long had he indulged Bullseye? "Just be careful, both of you."
"Pfft, who do you think you're talking to?" Her smile wasn't as confident as she might have liked, "We'll be fine. Besides, now that you're back in town things can only get better. Did you hear Hitlerstache's latest broadcast? I think he got a heart attack cause he heard you were back in town."
"That's a tragedy," he snarked, "Anyway, I should probably go. I'll see you around."
"Count on it."
He took the scroll from the table and stuffed it into his jacket. Page would want to see it.
Boring plot chapter done. Sadly almost no one voted for the epicness of Frog-Man. It's alright, I know greatness has to be prepared for rather than sprung on without warning. We'll see when I can put him in again.
Anyway, at this point I think it's fair to say that Mary Jane counts as the fifth protagonist for V2, even if she's very closely tied to Gwen. She even has her own planned arch-enemy - Calvin Zabo/Mr. Hyde. Creator of the Hyde formula which is what makes up half of the Carnage symbiote in this fic.
Questions:
1. MJ's segments ended up far darker than I originally intended. She was going to be a regular Ideal Hero at first, but then I remembered, oh yeah, Carnage Symbiote. Still, are you guys fine with her current tone or would you prefer her shifting to a more idealistic scenario?
2. Speaking of MJ, I've also gotten reviewers asking for a Peter/Gwen/MJ threesome. I mean...seriously? Now that Noir/Gwen is a thing do you guys really want me to up-end the relationship dynamics to squeeze in MJ as a third branch? It seems kinda needless, doesn't it?
3. Would you guys want me to focus on Peter attending ESU and doing normal life stuff? When I had Gwen suggest it I meant for it to come off as a joke but it seems to have gained traction. I never really intended for Noir to be normal in V2, but it seems like a really popular idea.
Review Answers:
Bagration - Something tells me Noir wouldn't survive symbiote sex. Also, Peter will NEVER stop smoking.
Eragen - Overseas is unlikely. I can probably do a beach trip if we need some kind of break chapter, though, and other heroes can visit New York if needed.
NeverendingZero - I'm fine with reviews since I tend to update relatively quickly. As for innocence, it's relative. A conman never kills while a soldier does, but I'd consider the latter more innocent. Noir wouldn't shoot MJ; he trusts her not to go nuts. As for your other questions - Peter's identity is never going to get a concrete answer so it's ambigious if he's responsible. As for Glory and Betty, not really. Noir doesn't like them, especially Glory.
Cha0s4ever - Shame, Matt would've made a great roommate :(
Brave2000 - Gwen wouldn't let ANYONE she loves near Matt, and that includes MJ. MJ wouldn't be for it either.
Davidashton2099 - Considering Noir's backstory I already did do Clone Saga.
Anti-W.T.F - No hook ups. Peter and Gwen are, for better or worse, the couple for this volume. That and neither Norah or Cindy are interested in Noir romantically, as they've made clear last volume.
There are new villains, but not the Sinister Six since they're jokes. As for Original Noir? He's back home doing his own thing. It doesn't matter in the context of this story since he accomplished his goal and got home, so he's done. Also no, not planning to include Web Warriors so far. Don't want this to get too bloated again.
Noisy-Cricket - Uh...Fisk is dead. Matt and Peter talk about how the former had him assassinated last volume.
Leaptallfics - Just cause some characters are bi/gay doesn't mean they're not monogamous. Gwen made it clear in the last volume that she prefers one-on-one relationships and doesn't even consider the idea of a threesome.
Jk41kiwi - It's not down, it just got renamed slightly. Check the instrucions above.
Guest C23 - She's getting her own costume. Check 'Scarlet MJ' over on deviantart to see what it looks like.
DreameroftheDay - The leads are definitely better all around compared to how they were in V1. This does mean they don't struggle as much, however, which leads to less drama.
