Disclaimer: I don't own shit, this is just fanfiction.
Chapter 1 – Intuition
"Fuckin' bug," Aaron growled as he pushed in through his living room window.
Fisk had sent him out to eliminate someone who was supposed to take the stand in a few days time. Aaron didn't know who the hell was on trial, and frankly, he didn't give a fuck.
He got to the targets building, scaled the outside, brick by brick, stuck to the shadows, and just as he reached up to quietly open the window of the targets apartment so he could sneak in and take her out, he felt something sticky and familiar hit his back, before finding himself yanked up into the air, and down onto the building's rooftop.
He spent the next ten painful minutes after that dukin' it out with the cities self proclaimed 'guardian', Spider-Man.
Self proclaimed.
Ha.
That asshole caused more damage than he prevented.
Anyway, while the bug never threw all that many hits, the ones he did throw, landed, and they hurt like a fuckin' bitch, even with his body armour. He really ought to 'invest' in some Vibranium.
Now, none of that is to say that Aaron didn't get a few hits in himself. Hell, by the end of the fight, while The Prowler got away with a couple of heavy bruises, he'd made sure the Spider got away with more than just a few bleeding cuts. He left with a fractured wrist, what Aaron was assuming was a black eye, and his signature red and blue suit in tatters.
Though he'd bet that if the bug went swingin' around tomorrow, he'd be wearing a brand new suit, not a scratch in sight. He doubted the Wall Crawling Dumbass had the craftsmanship skills to fix a suit that had been shredded down to almost nothing but a bare few threads, and it seemed fairly obvious he'd cashed in on his 'heroic' image to be able to buy and make a new one.
Not that Aaron could or would fault him for that. It was a smart move. Hell, if it didn't land him in jail for the rest of his life, he'd gladly cash in on his own Alter Ego.
He sent a text to Tombstone on his way back, tellin' him the bug interfered, and the target was still active. Got a reply thirty seconds later sayin' the boss was sending out someone who will take her out, nice and quiet like.
Which was fuckin' great of course. Meant he wasn't gonna get paid this week. Granted he could just as easily sneak into some rich assholes apartment, steal some valuables, maybe his wife's jewellery, or the ones belongin' to his Mistress. Could probably get a fuck in too. Pompous rich bitches always complained and bitched, but once he played a little rough, they'd become more... compliant.
But the job tonight was supposed to be quick, and he'd have gotten a pretty penny for it too.
And now he was gonna go a week empty handed, not really any energy to do any other shit. All thanks to that piece of shit Spider-Man.
Fuck how Aaron would love to just rip that mask off, and bash his pathetic fuckin' skull in.
Pulling his hands free of the claws, and putting the gauntlets down on the small island countertop in his small kitchen, Aaron reached up and opened the medicine cabinet, pulling out a small, white, plastic container, the word 'ALCHEMAX' scrawled across the label, unscrewed the top, and gently plopped out three purple and black capsules into the palm of his hand, before tossing them into his mouth, and swallowing them down.
It'd be about a minute or two before the meds took full effect. They were long lasting, and strong as hell, he'd have to thank Octavius the next time he dropped by Alchemax. Although he'd have to be careful when he chose to drop by. The last time he walked in unannounced, he found Octavius taking some... liberties, with her hot young female assistant, while using those four extra limbs of hers.
Plopping down on his red leather couch, Aaron picked up the remote, and began to flip through the channels as he waited for the drugs to kick in.
'Alright, let's see what we got. Soap Opera, fuck off. Period show, not gonna happen. Documentary, not a chance. Jameson, debate shit, cookoff, fuck!'
Aaron really hated nights like these. Not only did he not get his target, but there was fuck all on tv too.
At least the drugs were kickin' in.
Aaron leaned back in his seat with a sigh, the palms of his hands rubbing his eyes as he yawned.
Normally he'd head of to bed, but the smell of sweat was enough for him to know he'd need a shower first.
But he'd wait for the drugs to take full effect beforehand, so he just sat back and surrendered himself to whatever channel he'd landed on.
A dumbass celebrity talk show.
Granted these things could be funny as shit, so long as they talked to the right people.
The host was some greasy haired fucker who for the life of him Aaron could NOT remember the name of.
"And coming up next we have our cities very own Mrs Mary Jane Watson-Parker!" the host crowed to a thunderous applause, and Aaron smirked. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad.
He'd seen a few of her films, the Thrillers anyway. Her last one was his favourite, even if the reviews sighted it as not being the most feminist, what with the red head's characters being forced to strip and dance in nylon pantie-hoes for an enemy agent, before being heavily sedated and spending most of her scenes being tortured in her undies.
Aaron fuckin' loved it though. She was hot as hell, unpredictable in interviews, and took fantastic care of her body. Hell, Aaron wouldn't lie if he said he'd looked her shoots up online every now and again on nights where he was too lazy to go out and pick up a bitch at a bar. And maybe a few other nights too.
"Now, if you've read the papers, or watched the news, because who the fuck reads newspapers anymore? Am I right?" the host smirked with a wink to wild laughter, even Aaron couldn't hold back a soft chuckle. "Just last week, Mrs Watson-Parker was caught in another supervillain attack right here in New York City. Yep, you heard it right, just last week, the bad guy known as Mysterio made an attempt on an up and coming actors life right in the middle of Times Square. If you've seen the video, then you'll no doubt recall how Mrs Watson Parker threw herself into the fray to protect her fellow performer. Of course the two ended up getting captured together, she wasted no time in degrading Mr Beck for his many failed attempts at not only trying to take over the city, but also to become a successful actor."
It was impossible for Aaron to hold back a laugh right there. The day of the fight, he'd decided to sleep in after pulling an all nighter for Fisk, guarding one of his spice shipments down at the docks. He didn't know what was really in those containers, and he really didn't care. But when he woke up, he'd found Tombstone had sent him a link to a video on YouTube of the fight. He didn't give a shit about when Spider-Man showed up, but listening to that red head ruthlessly tear apart Mysterios ego, fuck, that left him in stitches. That gorgeous bitch had one hell of a sharp tongue and he respected that.
"Now of course, this isnt the first time our dear Mary Jane has found herself in the middle of a supervillain attack. No no, Mrs Watson Parker has been involved in a surprising number of fights over the years."
Now that caught Aaron's attention. It wasn't much really. Just a small tickle to his intuition. A part of his brain that Aaron trusted with his life.
It was one thing to be caught in the crossfire between a supervillain and their target, Aaron had seen it happen a bunch of times over the years, had even taken advantage of the opportunity a few times himself, no hero could resist a random bystander in distress, and while the hero was busy saving whoever got caught, Aaron would either make his get away, or dive in even harder.
But he'd never heard of someone who wasn't a hero finding themselves in the middle of an attack more than once. Usually once was enough, the stress of the situation would either have 'em hightail it outta the city, or avoid every fight like their lives depended on it.
"I'm sure you all remember more than a few of them. The Lizard incident about eight years ago, that time Green Goblin had made an attempt on the life of an up and coming scientist who refused to join Oscorp, then of course there was that time Doctor Olivia Octavius made her first appearance, ending with that whole Devil's Breathe situation that left far too many in danger, and of course, more than a few of Venoms appearances. The ex scientist Eddie Brock had made multiple attempts on her life, even kidnapped her a few times, many theorists on the internet have the idea that Brock may have an attraction to the actress, with the kidnappings being him trying to force her to be his bride, and the attempts at killing being because of her possible rejection, but this is just speculation."
"In the end, our cities hero and guardian Spider-Man was there to save the day, and the damsel in distress. Everytime I might add, and this has led to a series of theories that perhaps Mrs Watson Parker and the Spider-Man share a somewhat romantic history." He paused to throw another wink to the audience, this one a little more suggestive than the other, which was met a rush of laughter and wolf whistles, but Aaron had tuned it out.
Something was off here. Again all Aaron could think of was all those other people who'd found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time, the ones who regretted it immediately. There was a fine line between bravery and stupidity, and he'd seen that video with Watson, among other interviews. Even in the scripted ones, she was never stupid. She was smart, funny, seemed to enjoy tricking up the interviewers, so the idea of her going into all those situations filled with psychos in colourful suits by random chance was just a little confusing.
Sure, she could have just been doing it to be brave, be a hero, there were plenty of heroes without any powers, they pushed harder than anyone with em, but she wasn't a superhero, she was a regular person. A famous one, but normal non the less. Brave too.
But being at the centre of so many attacks, and all that speculation about her and the bug, it was possible she may have had more intent with her being there. She could actually be close to the web head in real life. Wanted to protect him, or help him take down whatever bad guy was around.
Then again, she was called Mrs Watson-Parker, whoever Mr Parker was, he was a lucky bastard. Maybe he could do a little research later, see if there are any interviews with him, see what he thinks.
"So now, let me introduce to you, the star of the night, Mrs Mary-Jane Watson Parker!"
And just like that the pain killers kicked into full gear, relief flooding his system, soothing away all the pain as the star herself walked out on stage with a bright, ruby red lipped smile and a wave.
"Damn," was all Aaron could think to say.
She was decked out in a tight red cocktail dress that hugged her beautiful figure and ended in the middle of her luscious, pale, creamy thighs, her feet decked out in some of the sexiest red heels he had ever seen that perfectly accentuated her sexy arches, her lips and nails adorned in red lipstick and nail polish, and gold hoops hanging from her ears. Her red hair thrown over her left shoulder, showing her beautiful face to the camera.
She had a whole modern, Jessica Rabbit thing goin' on, and Aaron could feel his cock begin to stiffen.
As much as he would love to just take care of business right then and there to the sight of one of the hottest women on earth decked out in a sexy cocktail dress and heels, he knew he couldn't. He was tired as hell, and covered in sweat. What he needed now was a nice, long, hot shower, and long nights sleep.
Picking up the remote, and switching off the tv, he moved to make his way to the bedroom, picking his claws up off the island on the way.
Taking off his suit, piece by piece, Aaron placed it all in the hidden compartment in the back of his closet, the boots, the claws, the belt, the suit, which was now covered in rips and tears, he was definitely gonna try and get his hands on some vibranium, and finally the cape.
It didn't take long for him to realise he'd forgotten a very vital part of the ensemble.
The mask.
Aaron sighed.
It was a force of habit at this point. Whenever he came back to his apartment in his suit instead of storing in his hideout, he always took his mask off first, and he always plopped it down on top of his records shelf by the window. It was a stupid mistake he was making too often, leaving it by the window, if anyone were to climb down and see, he'd be screwed, hell, if Miles dropped by for a surprise visit and saw it, Aaron didn't even want to think of what would happen then.
Had he been able to carry out his hit uninterrupted, he would've gone straight to his hideaway and stored his suit properly, with all of his other equipment. But of course, that fuckin' arachnid had to mess his shit.
Before he headed back out to collect his mask, his phone beeped. The one he used as Prowler.
Plucking it out of his belt, he read the text.
'T: LeRoche just finished, cleanup going quick and smoothe.'
Just as promised, the big man had sent out another hitter, LeRoche of all people.
He was pretty good to be honest. Aaron's kills had always been more along the lines of quick, quiet, and untraceable. Snapping their necks nice and quick, their lights goin' out before they even realised what was happening. Of course there were those few times Fisk wanted it to be messy. Saw it as sending a message. Those were the times Aaron really got to use his claws outside of a fight and a heist.
LeRoche on the other hand was quiet. Quiet but messy. A silencer to the head, or a knife across the throat, both within the first few seconds of the target seeing him. Said he loved seeing the surprise and fear, and the look in their eyes as they die. It was a thrill Aaron could understand.
If the cleanup was already in progress, then it was just a silencer. The targets body was probably being moved to another location. Maybe cut up and fed to some animals, buried somewhere off the beat and track, or just burned to ash. The blood gone, no trace left of them ever having been there. It was pretty surprising how many times it had happened over the years.
Walking over to the window, and plucking up his mask, Aaron paused.
His intuition had always been one of his greatest assets, couldn't count how many times it saved him over the years. How many advantages he'd been presented with because of it. And it had been a little to aware when the host talked about Mary Jane and Spider-Man.
If it really was true, and not just a theory among fans that the two knew each other on a more personal basis, then this presented something an unbelievable advantage to Aaron. A chink in Spider-Man's armour. A very dangerous weak point.
He was aware of a lot of Spider-Man's enemies in the city, why they hated him, and what they tried to do to him. He studied his enemy as best he could over the years to keep a leg up on him for whenever they went toe to toe, but The Prowler had never intentionally sought out the web slinger. Too dangerous. He preferred to stick to the shadows, stealing and killing quietly. Doing his level best to avoid him, only ever taking him on if the spider even sought him out in a fight, or Fisk instructed him to take him down. Never succeeded in that, but he always did damage.
Thing was, none of the villains that he'd ever met as The Prowler ever brought up the thing with Mary Jane. Venom by far seemed to be the only one with any personal connection to the spider, given the physical similarities, and that one week the spider wore that thing that now covered Brock. It was more than possible that he knew about the connection. If it really did exist. But even so, Aaron had no plans of going near that freak, no matter how much of an advantage he'd gain.
If the connection really was real, then that put the bug in a lot of danger. But he needed to be sure.
Walking back into his room, and tossing the mask in with the rest of his suit before shutting the compartment, Aaron sat on his bed, and plucked his iPad out of his bedside table.
Opening the browser, he googled her name.
'Mary Jane Watson Parker'
Within a single second his screen was flooded with pictures and info about the New York native actress. News articles about her new movie that came out a few weeks ago, a romantic comedy. Not really Aaron's style, but that didn't mean he wouldn't give it a watch.
A bunch of YouTube links to a few of her trailers and interviews. Nothing really of note.
He scrolled back up to add on the hero's name, see what came up, when something in the knowledge panel caught his eye.
Spouse: Peter Parker (2016)
"Peter Parker…" Aaron mumbled softly. The name sounded so oddly familiar. It was blatantly obvious that he was the Mr to her Mrs, but that wasn't it.
Reaching up, Aaron tapped the name.
What came next was interesting.
Images of a handsome young man in his mid twenties. Blonde hair, blue eyes, bit of a cocky edge to his smile. He was good lookin', Aaron would give him that, even if he wasn't gay or even remotely bi, he couldn't deny it.
His bio was what really caught his eye.
'Peter Parker, born to scientists Richard and Mary Parker who died when almost ten years ago, was taken in by his Aunt and Uncle, Ben and May Parker.'
'May Parker… why does that name sound familiar?' Aaron thought.
'A scientist like his parents, Parker is most well known for his marriage to up and coming film star and supermodel Ms Mary Jane Watson, and for being the Daily Bugle's photographer tasked with taking pictures of Spider-Man.'
It was like being struck by lightening.
That was how he knew him.
That was why the name 'Parker' was so fucking familiar.
Aaron may not have been a fan of Jameson or the Bugle, but he'd seen the papers here and there, on the subway, the streets, every time there was a picture of Spider-Man on the Bugle's front page, Parker's name was right underneath listed as the photographer.
Once again, Aaron found himself truly blessed to have his intuition.
It was doubtless at this point.
Mary Jane Watson Parker and Spider-Man knew each other personally, and her husband was involved as the spider's photographer. He didn't just have one weak link to exploit, he had two.
Even if that didn't explain why she threw herself into those fights, maybe it was to keep her hubby from getting hurt, Aaron didn't know, but he didn't care.
He'd found something. A weakness he could exploit against that fucking insect.
But for now, all of that shit would have to wait. Because he really needed a fuckin' shower.
He'd leave the rest until tomorrow.
And so, with a smirk on his face, Aaron stripped down to nothing, and hopped in the shower.
Chapter 2 – Secrets up next
