Queens.
New York.
Miles Morales was sitting on top of a gargoyle named Bruce listening to "Good Enough" by Lifehouse over and over again, feeling like his head is about to explode from conflicting thoughts, motivations and feelings.
"Now, I know what you're thinking…", Miles thought as he addressed an invisible crowd.
"…Why the heck am I in Queens? I'm a Brooklyn hero!"
A comic book cover suddenly appeared, showing Miles cowering in fright in a fancy office, a shadow that spouts tentacles but looks like him rising over him.
The title reads "Spider-Man: Miles Morales": "Ionic Bonds": "Negative Electric Charge".
Shifting his right leg over his left one, Miles' mask hid a face full of discontent.
"Well…", he began to answer, turning his phone on to show a police scanner May had installed. "Rumored sightings of Doc Ock hoisted my depressed butt all the way here, which is just great, because after a crappy day at school, what I really need is to get another physical and mental beatdown."
Miles had had a terrible day at school (despite it being Saturday, Visions would sometimes take extra days for those who were… Struggling), no doubt about it: He had been late to all his classes (nothing new, but the scoldings didn't help matters), he had managed to make disastrous mistakes in every period (he had burned his home economics cake, his chemistry experiment, his homework, and, somehow, his gym shorts), and he even annoyed his principal by being a "smartass".
"I mean, can he blame me? Who wears flammable pants? You're bound to reveal your "Chester Cheeta" underwear like that!"
Miles sighed, watching the New York skyline, the weather beginning to transition to autumn.
Some trees were already dressing in orange, and the cold gusts of wind were getting more frequent, one gust sending a chill down Miles' spine, which didn't help his mood.
"And, of course, Doctor Octavius just HAD to cancel our meeting today!"
Doctor Octavius had not given any reasons, outside of needing some "me time" to prepare for the next session, but of course Ms. Calleros had chosen to see this as Miles being "irresponsible" again, and defying his mentor's wishes.
Miles scrunched up his face, an annoyed frown on it.
"Yeah, well, sorry, Ms. Calleros! I guess I should have just let Doctor Octavius destroy the fabric of time and space! I'm sure that B – will look "marvelous" next to my mutilated corpse!"
Miles took a deep breath and immediately felt bad. He wasn't usually this angry, even at Ms. Calleros.
"It's probably just nerves.", he thought, and he put a hand on Bruce the Gargoyle's head, the statue never phasing in his never ending look of steadfast moodiness.
Miles looked over at Bruce, pretending to pet the gargoyle's head like an overgrown dog with anger management issues.
"Oh, Bruce. I can't lie to you. It's not just nerves."
Miles sighed again as he felt very small in the big apple.
"…It's just… I don't know."
Some saliva was swallowed as he continued.
"I… Doc Ock is crazy, ok? Like, she's nuts! A total fruitcake!"
"But…", he admitted, "Even a Sociopathic octopus can be right once or twice a day."
Miles scratched his chin.
"…I'm pretty sure that's the saying."
Maybe that's why his English teacher called him a "boon on the very concept of human intelligence", or something like that.
"Still…", Miles continued, feeling a terrible truth rising in his chest. "She does have a point."
Sure, Doc Ock was wrong about most things…
But she had nailed ONE particular concept: He WAS holding back.
Miles hadn't meant to, of course! He wasn't being lazy or anything like that!
But…
The video didn't lie.
Miles could have easily taken her out with one of his punches, yet he held back, and the result?
"One octopus on the run and one spider with massive confidence issues.", Miles answered his own question.
"And now, the ENTIRE MULTIVERSE is in danger, all because I have confidence constipation, all because I couldn't just take her out like a normal spider powered hero type person!"
Miles flopped back onto the wall, feeling so incredibly tired, his neck tense and rigid, like a pillar.
In his eyes, a mixture of fatigue and frustration reigned supreme.
In his legs, muscles refused to relax, tensing up a storm that made it hard to even consider moving.
And in his hands…
Was a newspaper clipping.
"Now, I know your second question: Who the heck buys newspapers anymore?", Miles admitted, but right now, he wasn't interested in answering his own question.
Instead, he was busy looking at the clipping's article.
THE DAILY BUGLE (September 21st, 2009)
HE'S BACK!
The headline was quite the evocative one, leaping at you and grabbing your throat with vim and vigor.
But it wasn't the headline that caught Miles' eyes.
It was the picture, taken by Peter Parker himself.
Surrounded by blinding light, a light that almost ruined the picture, Peter Parker (that is, Spider-Man) was dueling with Doctor Octopus in what seemed to be an abandoned warehouse.
Miles couldn't really see Doc Ock's face, but it was clearly her: The arms, the labcoat, the piece of metal being hunked towards Spider-Man's head.
Who else could it be?
Miles sighed again, feeling cold and lonely alone on his gargoyle as he looked at what he could never be.
For a moment, he tried to imagine himself there instead of Peter.
For a moment, he tried to picture himself being so competent, so daring…
So brave.
And…
He eyes squeezed shut.
And…
His fists clenched.
And…
His chest tightened.
And…
"Aw, man…"
He slumped back to the wall, head hung low, a hurt heart beating slowly.
And…
He couldn't.
Sighing, Miles placed the picture down on his face, staring straight at Spider-Man's face, resilient against all…
And he wondered if he could ever be confident for more than a few minutes.
He wondered if defeating Kingpin and saving the multiverse was a fluke.
He wondered…
If he was a fluke.
"THEN YOU'RE LEFT IN THE DUST!
UNLESS I STUCK BY YA!
YOU'RE A SUNFLOWER!
I THINK YOUR LOVE WOULD BE TOO MUCH!"
"Woah!", Miles exclaimed, so startled by the sudden noise of his ringtone that his phone began to bounce around, from right hand to left hand to the air to…
THWIP!
Thinking quickly, Miles shot out a speedy web that just caught his phone, the device now peacefully rocking over the New York streets.
Letting out a sigh of relief, Miles threw the phone back to his right hand (nearly dropping it again), and, sheepishly, he answered the call from…
"Hey… Dad.", Miles greeted, still feeling down in the dumps but not wanting his Dad to know.
"Hey, Miles…", Jefferson started, sounding a little…
Concerned.
"Better be careful: I don't want him to worry over nothing.", Miles thought, and he worded himself cautiously.
"Why… Why, why are you calling?", Miles asked, a hint of nervousness in his tone.
"Oh, nothin'… I just wanted to… Well…"
Jefferson pinched his nose and took a deep breath.
He had to get this right.
"…I heard that something is wrong with you."
Miles nearly choked on his own saliva, a coughing fit forcing itself on him as he tried to settle his voice and nerves.
"You ok, son?", Jefferson asked, that ever present alarm and readiness for action dominating his speech.
Miles shook his head, even though Jefferson couldn't see him. "No! Not at all, Dad! Just… Just wondering what possibly made you think that…"
"Ganke told me."
If Jefferson had super hearing, he may have caught Miles' scream of frustration and panic all the way from Queens.
"What? What did he say?", Miles asked, mortified at the possibilities.
Had Ganke actually told his Dad he was Spider-Man?
No, wait, that doesn't make sense.
If he had, Jefferson would have magically teleported all the way to Bruce the Gargoyle and he would then kill Miles, only to then resurrect him so he can give him a talk.
And Miles wasn't sure what he feared more.
"Look, Ganke just told me that you've been a bit… Down."
Miles sighed, appreciating Ganke's worry, but not really desiring it.
"Look, Dad, I'm…"
Suddenly, it hit Miles.
"Wait…", Miles began to ask, his eyebrows furrowed. "How did Ganke tell you? He doesn't have your phone number, and vice versa!"
Now it was Jefferson's turn to sound nervous and reserved.
"Oh… Well… You see…"
Miles, an unamused expression on his face, took a "wild" guess. "Don't tell me that you've been going to MY dorm room to pressure Ganke to spill about my feelings?"
"In my defense, your Mother proposed the idea."
Miles felt betrayed, flabbergasted, and downright annoyed.
"I wonder if this is what Dad felt about me with the graffiti…", He pondered, as he went about scolding his Dad.
"Dad! Seriously?! If you want to know how I am, just ask!"
"Well… How are you?", Jefferson shot back immediately.
"I…", Miles hesitated. "I…"
Miles protectively hugged himself, trying to feel some warmth. "I'd rather not say."
Miles could practically feel the raised eyebrow from the other side of town.
"So, maybe asking Ganke wasn't such a bad idea."
Miles half groaned half laughed, his Dad managing to be a lovable pain in the butt. "Ok, ok, I'll admit, that was a tad hypocritical."
"You and I clearly have different measurement systems for hypocrisy.", Jefferson joked, with a hint of amusement.
The two laughed, and for a moment, silence reigned supreme between Father and Son.
A leaf fell down on Miles' face, but he didn't feel the power to blow it off.
The tension was thick as Jefferson tried again.
"Look… Miles…", He started, a little…
Scared?
"…I know that… Things can be hard. I don't make them any easier."
His words felt almost comforting, as Miles lay on the wall, staring at the clouds, feeling longing.
"There's a lot of pressure on you right now… Lots of… Responsibility."
Miles almost chuckled. "Understatement of the millennium, Dad…", he thought fondly..
"And… For once I'd like to be the one that… Calms you down."
Jefferson cleared his throat, and Miles thought that he detected… Fear, in his tone.
But also…
Love.
"Miles… Whatever it is you're going through… You can talk to your Mother… And me. You know that, right?"
Miles didn't respond.
He didn't know what to say.
And then he got stuck with this:
"…You're not alone, Miles."
Miles suddenly felt a growing tension in his throat, and a stinging in his eyes.
And he decided to end the call.
"…Ok, Dad… Whatever you say… Thanks…"
He then mumbled that he would be back home after some important study sessions.
"Stay safe…", Jefferson parted, and Miles silently ended the conversation.
He then held his head in his arms, feeling a sob coming up.
"Oh, Dad…", Miles breathed out.
"…If there's one thing I am, it's alone."
Suddenly, Miles' phone rang, and Miles was sure he was getting another call to guilt trip/depress him.
But how could Peter call him from the dead?
"All units move in PRONTO! Hardy Foundation Research Center is under attack by Doctor Octopus! I repeat: Hardy Foundation Research Center is under attack by Doctor Octopus!"
"Also, Salim, I love you, but if you make a pretzel mosque in our bed one more time, we are through! I repeat: We are through!... Stay safe, I love you honeybear!"
Oh, wait, police scanner: Yep, that makes more sense.
Sighing, Miles stood up and readied his aching body to a web slinging stance.
He definitely didn't feel like another beat down, but stopping Doc Ock was more important than his self pity.
"At least I'm still responsible: That's gotta count for something.", Miles thought with a sprinkle of hope as he swung into action, whipping past buildings to reach the newest location of our drama: Hardy Foundation Research Center...
10 Minutes Earlier…
The walls of Hardy Foundation, swaths of blue, orange and purple shining bright, 19th century paintings hanging proudly, and photographs of VERY important people scattered all about, had heard many sounds over the decades.
Sounds of typewriters turned to computers, clicking and clacking away to the hours of the night.
Sounds of innovation, of expansion, of risk taking, going boldly where no man had gone before.
Sounds of dealings, of compromises, of crimes we dare not speak.
Sounds of passionate, tragic, fleeting love…
Sounds of footsteps, walking away forever, never to return…
Never to walk again…
All those sounds had been heard from these walls, and all those sounds would be heard again, for nothing ever really changed at Hardy Foundation.
In fact, todays sounds were fairly typical so far:
"Kyle, progress report on the Oscorp Purchase, now!"
"Young Harry refuses to relent, but his lawyers have much less in terms of a spine."
"Perfect! Buy them from Harry! This fish will flounder instead of flourish!"
"Right away!"
5 steps to the next room, as ever, precise, direct, efficient.
"Cedric, super collider report, pronto!"
"Baby steps, but soon baby will be running, striding!"
"Excellent! It stays hush hush or you will make that sound!"
"Perfectly understood, Madam!"
7 steps to the kitchen, but the way she takes them, it may as well be none.
"Jerome, that coffee and Monte Christo better be in my office in exactly 15.7 seconds!"
"Yes, Ms. Hardy! Right away!"
3 seconds to enter…
THWASH!
2 seconds to remove Gucci fur coat and autumn hat.
CLUNK!
2 seconds again to sit on her leopard coated chair.
"Reggie!"
FLIP!
2 seconds AGAIN to catch the phone that Reggie so expertly flipped.
BEEP BOOP BOOP BOOP BOOP BOOP BOOP BOOP BEEP!
2 seconds to dial the number, 2 seconds to connect to the call, and 2 seconds to without even looking, lift her steaming espresso to her lips, before uttering 0.7 seconds later, a sound that the walls hadn't heard in ages.
"Hello, Felicia, It's Mummy."
Composed, balanced, rigid as a rock and sturdy as a tree, Lydia Hardy was THE most competent and professional business woman around New York.
Which may not sound very flattering when you put into account that the competition was a maniacal green goblin, a literal kingpin and that weirdo who was REALLY into ancient mythology, Dario Aggar.
How the hell did Roxxon end up with THAT nutcase?
Point being, Lydia Hardy was the best CEO around.
But like all great leaders, like all those who consolidate power, she had a liability, a weakness, an Achilles heel…
A threat to her position that could destroy everything.
And hard as she wished, no amount of money that she threw at the screen could change her weakness to something way easier to handle, like insanity, or deceased loved ones, or even golden string!
For alas, Lydia's greatest threat to her hard earned, by the teeth, totally on her own and with no way thanks to a certain scoundrel she may or may not have been associated with, was…
"Mummy! How's it go-in'?"
A metallic clang could be heard. Probably more room service for the princess.
A not too modest but not too greedy spoonful of Caviar later, and the voice resumed the conversation.
"Did you know that if you so much as wink at the staff here, they start giving you stuff for free?"
A haughty giggle sounded across the line.
"I have never seen this much soap in my life!"
Lydia took a deep breath, trying to keep up her "pleasant" tone.
It would take much convincing and fake niceties to persuade Felicia Hardy to do anything, let alone get off her ass.
"Felicia, darling, sweetest, precious, princess, my eency weency kitty…", Lydia started, adopting the third most obnoxious kissy face she had ever made in her life.
Silence, then a sigh that didn't sound totally exaggerated.
"Mother, what do you want?"
Felicia turned around in her humongous bed, feet kicking up in the air, lying on her stomach with a glazed look in her eyes, her wavy blond hair covering nearly all her face in a protective blanket, and a look that knew all too well what her mother was like.
"My phone is, thank GOD, always blasting out "Rich Girl", yet, funny story, the ID never says "Mommy". I wonder why?"
Lydia readied herself. Felicia was such a pain in the ass, always straight to the point, always sharp, seeing through people's schemes and lies and deceptions like a pro.
Like herself, but also like…
No. Don't think about him.
Try again, Lydia. You've outsmarted literal supervillain business men, your pampered daughter should be a piece of cake.
"Felicia, dear, can't a Mother call in and ask her dearest daughter how she's doing? What's she been up to? Why is it all over the tabloids?", Lydia "innocently" asked, browsing down thousands of squakes over "Felicia Hardy buys priceless painting, surfs it down Eifel Tower and somehow also makes out with 3 different young men".
"Must be a slow news day, since I've done WAY more interesting things than that.", Felicia commented, now applying silver nail polish and admiring her latest compulsive purchase: A Garfield parade float in her bathtub.
She lazily waved at it, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes and taking another spoonful of caviar.
Lydia massaged her temples. She was nursing a headache of 13 fucking years now. "Felicia, no more playing around."
"Finally! I was waiting for you to get real.", Felicia cockily challenged, and Lydia got to the point.
"You've been attracting WAY too much attention! Hardy Foundation is undergoing its biggest projects ever! We can't take over Oscorp and change science itself if every interview I have centers on what batshit thing you did this time!"
Felicia, meanwhile, did the "blah blah blah" sign with her hand.
Lydia flared her nostrils. "I sent you to Paris to gain a higher education, remember?"
Felicia fake laughed and pointed at her brain. "I'm already a genius, Mother! Why waste time learning shit I already know, when I can learn how to charm French boys? They're a lot more receptive to my true skills…", she trailed off, an odd pause at the end of her sentence.
"That's not the point! I can't have you give the company a bad name!"
"Ugh, this is so like you! You only ever call to scold me!", Felicia complained, tired of her Mother's "attentiveness".
She then said something she shouldn't have said. AT ALL.
"You know, if Dad was here, he'd…"
"Quiet!", Lydia snapped, even making Felicia jump in fright, before regaining her composure.
"…Daughter… I cannot have you interfere with business anymore. I need you close so I can supervise you. Close so I can stop you from acting out. Which is why…"
She took a deep breath.
"…I'm moving you to Visions Academy in Brooklyn."
Felicia spat out her caviar, ruining a VERY expensive carpet. "WHAT THE FUCK, MOTHER?"
"Yes. You will be coming home, and that is final!"
Felicia hissed, furious at this development. "Mother, I am a goddess here! I refuse to be sent back to this stupid place for your stupid deals! I am Felicia Hardy!"
"And I am Lydia Hardy! And you will do as you are told, Felicia! End. Of. Discussion."
Felicia sighed, resigned to her oh so shitty fate. "FIIIIIIIIIIIINE!"
Lydia pretended to smile, grateful for victory. "Oh, that's just peachy! See ya, honeybunches! Mwah!"
Lydia shut the phone, not noticing that the cold she felt was from a draft from the open window.
"Ugh… She has way too much of her Father inside her…"
"Teenagers, am I right?", a familiar voice said, slowly inching closer.
"Tell me about it…", Lydia replied, massaging her temples, before realizing…
GRASP!
But it was too late.
A claw connecting her to the wall, Lydia could only kick and flail as she was face to face with who else but…
"Doctor Octopus…"
With the excitement of a child being told to finally wake up and go to school, or perhaps more fittingly, a rich person being told to pay their taxes, Lydia Hardy "welcomed" Doctor Octopus into her research center.
"To what do I owe the honor of being choked by you in my office?", Lydia asked, with more than a hint of annoyance.
Stifling a chuckle, Doc Ock tightened the hold, causing Ms. Hardy to begin to grasp for air.
"Oh, darling, it's been TOO long!", she said in fake affection, letting Harry grab a seat for her and sitting down, Larry and Moe still grasping onto Ms. Hardy.
Using Flo to file her nails with a nearby file, Doc Ock barely looked up as she addressed the subject of her visit.
"Unfortunately, it will have to stay too long. This is a quick visit, really a snatch and go."
Wrestling a little bit out of the monster grip, Lydia was able to answer the ridiculous request.
She knew all too well what Doc Ock wanted.
Not that you could prove that in court.
"Your visit, just like my attempts to reign in my daughter, are for now fruitless. And I intended for only one of those to continue to fail."
"You think I only visited to get something from you? And after all the trouble I went to? Why, I had to build a fake robotic decoy of myself to send our boys in blue the other way and you think I only visited to get something?", Doc Ock protested in faux hurt, pouting almost as she dropped the nail file and neared her face to Lydia's.
"Why, I wouldn't dream of it!"
"Somehow, that feels like a sucker bet.", Lydia bit back.
Doc Ock grinned menacingly as Flo and Harry joined in ganging on the businesswoman.
"Let's not mince words, Olivia: You're here for the supercollider."
Doc Ock could barely contain her enjoyment at this scrap of information: While last night's vow still hung high on her head, she always enjoyed a little chit chat before a fight.
"Why, Lydia! The only way you could know that is if you talked to Wilson Fisk!"
She wagged her finger and humorously chided the woman. "Naughty, naughty Lydia!"
"If I must get my hands dirty…", Lydia started, not needing to finish her sentence.
"Well, someone better be careful. You wouldn't want that dirt in the hands of the NYPD."
"Blackmail? Really? Are the tentacles not subtle enough?", Lydia remarked, but the air was really beginning to squeeze out again.
"Considering I was able to find out that you were making a supercollider with my hacking program, perhaps you should bite your tongue and cease your scathing critique."
It was now Lydia's turn to smirk: She knew that Doc Ock had one disadvantage, which was why she was here.
"Yet you came to me; Something tells me you ran into a small problem with the EXACT location of the project."
Doc Ock's smirk slowly dropped to a more serious scowl.
"Locating warehouse numbers that are kept off the cloud isn't my specialty."
Suddenly, Lydia found it really hard to bite back.
"However…", Doc Ock taunted, almost in a sing song voice. "Convincing people is a little more my style…"
Lydia began to kick and flail. "You think… I'll tell you…"
"No… But I think you will once you realize the…"
Doc Ock looked back at the window with a twinkle in her eyes.
"Gravity" of the situation…"
Lydia's eyes widened: When Doc Ock got serious, she got serious.
This was no empty threat; she needed a way out of this.
Doc Ock tilted her head, observing her opponent with almost a childlike wonder as Lydia began to turn purple, sputtering and letting out guttural shouts of pain.
"What's the matter, Lydia? You miss our earlier chit chat?"
Doc Ock tightened the grip, turning Lydia nearly crimson.
"Too bad. I'm on a mission."
She brought Lydia up to her, the hot air from her nostrils blowing into Lydia's face.
"And not some cockamamie comic book scheme to prove that I am the greatest mind of our time or some bullshit like that."
She nearly growled with rage and determination.
"I'm here to save the multiverse."
Lydia was starting to see spots. Soon, her daughter really would be free.
"So unless you don't want a credit for saving us all, cough up the intel. NOW."
Suddenly, just before Lydia could collapse onto a heap on the floor, which would really only raise a small eyebrow from Doc Ock…
CRASH!
Shards of glass flew all over the office, scratching Lydia's face and freeing some blood from her right cheek, and being deflected by Doc Ock's arms as if they were harmless specks of dust.
But while the glass shined and sparkled all over the cashmere carpeting, what really grabbed Ock and Lydia's eyes was the helpless heap on the floor: Spider-Man, breathing heavily, a few tears in his costume now thanks to the crash.
"I… Miscalculated… My webbing… Strength…", Spider-Man barely choked out, the tears in his costume being covered by tiny droplets of blood.
He was supposed to have the proportional strength of a spider: How the hell was he hurting like this?
"Spider-Man!", Lydia shouted out, thanks to Doc Ock finally letting go of her grip a little, allowing the CEO to scramble for air in near hysteria.
"Oh, it's you.", Doc Ock lightly acknowleged the obstacle (if you could call it that) in her way.
Without a second glance, Ock turned back to Lydia and waved off the boy. "As much as I would LOVE to tear you apart again, you're not worth it. That, and I am far too busy doing your job and all that."
She did allow herself a small smirk, while still turning her back. "You're welcome, by the way!"
Miles was incredulous. Flabbergasted. Stunned to near silence.
"Wait… WHAT?"
Ok, I did say near!
Still on his knees, almost looking more like an underling than a hero, Miles had to understand. "Are you not going to even pin me to the ground?"
Doc Ock sighed as she scooped up Lydia and pinned her to the wall instead. "Why bother? You and I both know that this will end up just like last time, if not worse. And I for one have no time to waste."
Miles shouted back, sweat dripping down his neck, making him even angrier. "I… I… I'll stop you! I have to!"
Suddenly, Doc Ock turned around and dropped a truth bomb that may have been… Badly timed.
"Who are you telling this to? Me… Or you?"
That. Does it.
"Ok, no more!", Spider-Man shouted out in utter frustration and unkept rage, getting back up to his feet slowly but surely, though he did fall back on to his knees for a moment. "I've had a really crappy day…"
"Stop the presses: "Person had bad day. Felt bad.", Doc Ock belted out, which only made Miles angrier.
"No, shut it!", Miles shouted out, but it wasn't just at her. "I'm tired of screwing up, and I am SOOOO tired of you stopping me from doing what's right!"
Lydia and Ock didn't show it, but they were a little startled, as was Miles: He had never shown such aggression in his voice before.
There was good reason to it though: His head was still spinning from the crash, he had overheard a purse snatcher before he had arrived, but his web had missed and he had to get here anyway, and in general, he had grown tired of his constant mood swings and confidence drops.
Miles had managed to fail in so many ways in just two days: It was amazing to him how just one failure could send him crashing down so hard.
And frankly, he was fucking DONE with this.
He was DONE with himself.
"I don't care: I'm going to stop you! I am Spider-Man!"
Miles then leapt towards Doc Ock, hurtling through the air and aiming a right hook that would surely knock her out…
THWACK!
Not looking for even a moment, Ock swiped with Harry, sending Miles hurtling towards the elevator, which she then closed, sending him down to the first floor.
"Wait, no!...", Miles shouted, but it was too late: He was going down.
Crossing his arms in the silver booth, Miles shook with anger and disappointment, blood still slowly seeping out of his costume.
"Don't give up… Don't give up…", he whispered to himself, even though his inner voice was screaming the opposite, and his body was seconding that.
He gritted his teeth, determined to do the right thing.
Determined to prove himself worthy.
"I WILL stop her. I AM Spider-Man."
Still going down, Miles began angrily shaking to the monotonous tune the elevator shilled out.
"WHY IS THIS SONG SO CATCHY?!"
Meanwhile, back in Lydia's office…
Lydia surveyed her now very messy office, but it was the window that interested her most.
"Tempered glass…", she whispered, in near shock and amazement.
She looked right into Doc Ock's eyes, who was still choking her, albeit not as hard as before.
"…You realize that he's more of a threat than you present him as, right?"
In response, Doc Ock let out a VERY mocking chuckle. "Why, my dear Lydia! Trust me: I know."
She began to walk around the room, Lydia Hardy carrying after her, still choking.
"And that's exactly the problem!"
A little bit of righteous fury painted Ock's face a different shade than usual.
"The original Spider-Man was a rival! A true obstacle in my way! An arch-enemy that was worthy of my unbridled hate!"
She sent Lydia crashing back into the wall, which made the well off woman cough up some blood onto the already ruined carpet.
"But this runt? This pathetic excuse of a human being? This waste of perfectly fine oxygen and atoms?"
She stomped her foot, indignant at this insult at her expense. "He's holding back! If he has anything to hold back!"
Larry and Moe sent the desk crashing onto the other side of the office, sending Lydia's computer out the window and down to the sidewalk.
Wincing, Lydia made a small comment. "I had just sent the last payment to that one."
Doc Ock raised an eyebrow, for once surprised.
"…These things still cost a shit ton, and my daughter isn't very conservative with my budget."
Nodding, Doc Ock leaned over Lydia Hardy menacingly, her shadow nearly enveloping the woman.
"Lydia… Isn't this such a waste of time?"
Harry cupped Lydia's chin while Doc Ock smiled, nearly cheerfully at her hostage. "Wouldn't it be easier to just let me have the collider? I would honestly consider letting you live. Tentacles not crossed!"
They weren't.
I know! Shocking, right?
Ock reached over to pat Lydia's head, the woman still slowly dripping blood from her mouth.
"You're a brilliant woman, at least financially, and for years no one recognized that. I'll need that for the plan. I NEED people like you."
For a moment, Lydia felt oddly safe: It was as if for a second, a different person, a nicer person was speaking to her.
Someone who truly cared about people.
It didn't last long.
Raised by her throat again, Lydia began to really feel hurt as Doc Ock returned.
"But for that I need co-operation."
An evil grimace greeted her.
"So… Are you in with the program? Or will the janitor who sweeps your sidewalks enjoy a little pay raise?"
Meanwhile, Miles bolted up the stairs, thinking that the elevator would be too predictable and not quiet enough for a sneak attack.
As he passed one flight after another, ducking and dodging passing workers, Miles tried to come up with some sort of game plan.
"Doc Ock is ready for everything! It's like she's got eyes on the back of her head!"
JUMP!
"If I want to beat her and not get stuffed in another elevator…"
LEAP!
"I'm gonna need to be a little creative…", Miles thought, a plan concocting in his mind.
He was going to live up to his responsibility.
No matter what!
As he dodged one last employee, Miles found himself before the door to Lydia Hardy's office.
Getting himself ready, loosening up his tense shoulders and mutter singing "Sunflower", Miles noticed that time was getting slower and his breath was more pronounced.
His heart pounded and his shoulders were sticky with sweat.
Trickles of blood were dripping on the stairs, ruining the cashmere carpets.
"I hope they don't bill me… I doubt my lunch money will cover the fee…", Miles thought, cracking a small grin as he looked to the side.
A window…
Maybe, if he was subtle enough…
He could sneak in like that!
Cracking his knuckles (and wincing cause they hurt), Miles climbed out and began to crawl across to the other side of the building, the wind suddenly turning into a mighty gust, almost dropping him to the ground.
"Woah!", he thought, a little panicky, as he stuck his back tight to the building, breathing heavily.
Looking down, his once conquered fear of heights returned, prompting a curse from Miles.
"I thought I was through with that!", he complained, his voice cracking slightly.
"Great. Fear of heights, puberty… What's next? Guilt?"
Suddenly, a coloring book smacked his face.
Lifting it and taking a look, Miles saw a picture of Peter from his dimension, saying "Remember kids: With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility!"
Miles grunted with frustration. "REALLY?!"
But the man in red and blue spandex on a coloring book for 5 – 9 year olds was right!
Miles had to get this done.
Taking another deep breath, Miles slowly crawled towards Lydia's window, some fragments of glass still lying on the ledge, sparkling in the afternoon sun, which would soon begin to set.
As he got closer, Miles could hear the voices of Doc Ock and Lydia, the former still threatening and all too in control, the latter still trying to talk her way out of it.
"Olivia… Please…", Lydia was already begging, desperate not too go splat on the street.
Doc Ock tutted, finger and tentacle wagging. "Lydia! I thought you were above such frivolities."
She then growled. "And frankly, I'm getting tired of waiting!"
CRASH!
Miles winced, and then he cringed as he saw that Lydia was now coughing up blood, her eyes looking a little sunken.
"What's the matter, Lydia? Cat got your tongue?"
While Doc Ock let out an evil titter, Lydia began to breath heavily and berate herself.
"Is this really how I go? I, Lydia Hardy, who made this company mostly out of nothing? Who worked to the skin and bones to be respected? Who has slowly taken over the city, and with only a little criminal activity, which I got rid of?!"
She was getting truly pissed, her cheeks reddening.
"I clawed my way to the top! If I must go, I'm going with honor!"
With speed and agility that surprised even Doc Ock, Lydia wrestled out of the tentacle and karate kicked the villain, who stumbled backwards, startled, but only for a moment.
"I seem to have underestimated my hostage."
Lydia blew a strand of hair off of her forehead.
"Walter may have taken much… But he did give me some things."
Lydia then rolled over to the desk and extracted a pair of shiny and sharp claws, which she equipped on her hands.
Leaping towards Doc Ock, Lydia actually managed to land a few slashes, and Miles (who was currently crawling on top of the ceiling, using his invisibility) was in awe.
"That old lady kicks ass!"
Miles knew that Doc Ock could detect his invisibility…
But now she was pre-occupied with Lydia Hardy.
"Thank you, old CEO lady with cat claws!" he thought to himself as he readied a tazor web, aiming it slowly at Doc Ock, who was still struggling.
"It's over, Doc Ock. You're going down!"
Miles could feel victory in his grasp. Finally, he was back in the groove!
Meanwhile, Lydia stood over a bleeding Doc Ock, who was still off her balance thanks to the surprise attack.
"No one just comes to my company and beats the living shit out of me.", Lydia threatened, her claws now dripping with blood.
Doc Ock, spitting out some blood from her mouth, smirked. "Thank goodness I'm not no one."
Now, Lydia still had the advantage.
In fact, Lydia could have killed Doc Ock right there.
Ock was ready, but she was still too passionate, and the attack had really taken her out of balance.
If that wasn't enough, Lydia's next slash could have taken out one of her arms, and then Doc Ock would have really been in a pickle.
But…
Lydia then made a cocky mistake.
And before Miles could shoot his tazor web and end this story short…
It all came crashing down.
Grinning now, a dark chuckle making its way out of her throat, Lydia said it.
"…And I actually thought you weren't as crazy as your uncle."
As those words made their impact, something changed in Doc Ock.
Something… Snapped.
The previously cocky and playful eyes and smile were now replaced with the coldest, most serious and enraged expressions.
The hands that were almost limp on the floor were now balled into intense fists, almost cracking from the pressure.
The tentacle rose up menacingly, one shutting the lights, making Lydia jump.
"…What the…", Lydia wondered, when she saw it: There was nothing there but the almost red eyes of Olivia Octavius.
And she was out for blood.
"…Wrong move.", was all she breathed out, as she approached Lydia with utter rage, destroying her office with her tentacles and knocking the CEO out, a tooth flying out from the connection.
Landing on the floor, Lydia found herself being flung up to the ceiling by Larry, and then lifted by Flo and Moe as the street beckoned.
Miles gasped and flopped down, invisibility gone.
"She's going to kill her!", Miles thought, and he ran at Doc Ock, who kicked him back without even looking.
"I knew you were there, by the way.", she added, as if hurting him was STILL on the agenda.
Holding his throbbing chest, Miles lay on the floor in utter pain, as he saw himself fail once more.
"Doc Ock is going to kill that woman… I… I have to do SOMETHING!"
Suffocating, Lydia's eyes began to roll up as Miles bolted down the room and got kicked again.
"You insulted my uncle… And now, you're going to die!"
There was no subtlety, no grace, no poise to Doc Ock.
She was fully the monster in Miles' mind: A murderer and criminal of the highest order, hell bent on revenge and nothing else.
Lydia couldn't even muster words, choking sounds her only dialogue.
Miles ran again, and again got kicked, this time to the wall, which made his nose flood red.
Doc Ock smiled maliciously, as she could hear the life sucking out of Lydia.
"You know… I can find another way to get that collider… I'll tear apart all of New York if I have to…"
She brought Lydia up close, hot breath on the dying woman's face.
"Because unless you take it back…"
Miles' vision was blurry and his balance was inexistent.
But he had to!
Running one last time, his knees failed him and he buckled to the ground, bruising his chin.
His tongue now bolstered a fine cut, and his mouth tasted of metal.
He tried to shout out, but it came out as a whisper.
"You're DEAD, Lydia Hardy."
As Flo slowly and surely let go of Lydia, Miles knew he had to stop her somehow!
"I have to… I HAVE to… I HAVE TO!"
Forcing his voice to shout, Miles screamed as loud as he had ever screamed.
"DOCTOR OCTOPUS, DON'T!"
Doc Ock actually turned, so loud was the scream.
And what she saw made her almost laugh from how sad it was.
His costume half torn, his body aching and crying, his eyes drenching and his cuts almost overflowing his costume, the black turning red, until he looked more like Peter than himself, Miles pleaded and begged for Lydia's life.
"PLEASE! PLEASE STOP! DON'T KILL THAT WOMAN, PLEASE! SHE'S NOT A PART OF THIS! SHE'S NOT ME!"
Doc Ock almost wanted to laugh, but she didn't.
Instead, she slowly let Lydia down on the floor, the woman just managing to get her breathing back, albeit loudly.
Miles began to almost whimper, his cries turning into sobs as he felt so… Small.
"Please…", he whispered. "Please…"
Doc Ock stepped up to him, the glass crunching under her boots and her tentacle dragging on the floor.
Flo then lifted Miles' chin, and Doc Ock caressed his head.
"You know… Your biggest problem… Is that you think you can beg."
She almost seemed sympathetic.
"You actually don't believe in yourself this much. And you think… You can be Spider-Man?"
Miles didn't say anything.
"…You're no hero. You can't even save yourself."
And he continued to be speechless as Doc Ock lifted him up…
And proceeded to throw him out the window.
Lydia gasped as the boy fell, his costume flapping in the wind.
"You… You've' killed him!", Lydia shouted, furious.
Doc Ock sat down on the desk, more interested in her nails then in the events before her.
"You really think I did? He has the proportionate strength of a spider, and if he's lucky, the trash recepticle below should catch him. And even if it doesn't, his strength will save him."
She then grinned. "If he can even do that."
Lydia slowly stood up, and felt her throat, which was almost for sure damaged, maybe for good.
Doc Ock grinned and looked up.
"Now… About that warehouse..."
His head was swimming and his vision was fleeting and his body was bleeding and his life was careening out of control like a car crash.
Sudden.
Instantaneous.
Yet somehow…
Tortorusly slow.
Miles, through blurry eyes, swallowed hard the ball of spit in his mouth as he tried in vain to move… Anything.
Metallic.
He'd never expected to taste blood so many times in one day.
…He assumed that twice though was pretty lucky for someone in his profession.
"Heh. Lucky."
That's what he was.
Lucky.
Lucky, dumb, amateur…
Pathetic.
What had she said?
"You're no hero… You can't even save yourself…"
Doc Ock's words echoing and colliding like a tidal wave, Miles tried to bolt up, but…
He couldn't.
It was like…
He could…
But…
Should he?
His tensed up neck suddenly realized that it was touching something rubbery, and Miles clasped with his hands, too tired and hurt to even look to the sides.
Thanks to his strength, though…
POP!
"…Ew…"
Miles didn't need to see to know that his hand was right now covered in banana peels, rotten eggs and wet cardboard.
Shaking his hand to remove some of it, Miles sighed as his other hand decided to inspect his face.
Yep. More blood.
"Yay…"
Another sigh, this time, a lot more downtrodden.
He looked up, finally able to see the bright sunset that was blinding despite its final embers leaving the sky.
It was soon replaced, not by stars but with Doc Ock's body as she leapt out, tentacles allowing her to traverse buildings as well as him.
If not better.
"If… More like totally better."
Resentment could not even BEGIN to describe his tone.
Regret, disappointment, anger…
Guilt.
Doc Ock had potentially world ending plans…
But Miles could barely move, let alone think.
And besides…
His eyes began to droop, as he felt a great shadow cover him…
"It's not like I could… After all…"
His eyes closed.
"I can't even save myself…"
"…Spider-Man?"
"ARGH!"
An hour later, Miles was finally moving and fighting, but one would agree that a karate chop to the trash collector's arm was not the right move in this particular scenario.
"Woah! Careful! I've only got two of these!", the trash man said, recoiling with a mixture of caution and surprise.
Scratching his head, the trash man looked at Miles, who was still covered in trash and blood, his mask slightly torn, but not enough to reveal his identity.
"…You ok? Whatcha doin' in the trash?", he asked, pity, even concern in his tone.
Miles was finally able to almost stand up, and he looked down to see the damage.
It was NOT fixable by flex tape, which says a lot.
Tears all over, red spots over black, black spots over his arms, his eye hole torn enough to reveal quite the bruise, his knees still shaking, and his mouth still tasting blood, Miles was a mess.
"Not good enough… Not good enough at all…", he whispered to himself, so utterly disappointed.
What would they say?
He was supposed to be Spider-Man…
He was SUPPOSED to be Spider-Man…
But today…
Today he was…
"…I don't know.", he admitted to the Trash Man.
Holding himself, tears in his eyes and crack in his voice, he added:
"…And I don't know how to get out of it."
The man nodded, understanding perhaps a little more than most, and smiling softly, he gestured towards his truck.
"Need a lift?"
Miles blinked in confusion and pointed at the truck, startled and stupefied.
The trash man, helping him out of the recipitacle, just nodded his head and winked.
"You've given us so much. Least I can do… Ya know?"
As he opened the door, he added another line, one that impacted Miles more than he thought it would:
"After all… We all need help sometimes."
"…Miles?"
Jefferson Davies had seen many, many horrors in his days as a New York cop.
He had seen mangled bodies, twisted limbs, scars beyond your wildest nightmares.
He had seen tragedy on a multitude that was hard to even describe.
He had seen and heard them all, and he had experienced most.
But somehow, all that was dwarfed by the sight of his son, his only son, covered in bruises and cuts.
Miles, who had stashed the costume in his backpack before taking an all too knowing step to their door, tried to postpone the storm.
"…Mom, Dad… Don't freak out..."
For a 13 year old genius, Miles didn't know his parents very well.
Two hours of freaking out later, containing among other things threats of violence on the hooligans that did this, 18 yelps of pain, every Spanish synonym for "calm down" and every… Ahem, "unsavory" word in the English language, and Miles was all bandaged up, already feeling better physically.
Emotionally, however, was a different ballpark, and even a trained nurse like Rio wasn't equipped for that task.
Over and over, two particular phrases were asked of Miles during the procedure: "How did this happen?" and "Are you ok?"
Miles had bullshit answers for both, but it was at bed that night, looking at an empty ceiling of nothing and feeling everything inside, that he was finally able to answer those questions to himself:
"Doc Ock kicked my butt…"
"And I am not ok…"
Miles felt the stinging of tears again. They were happening a lot recently, but could you really blame him?
He was a flop, in every way.
Spider-Man was supposed to stop Doctor Octopus, but…
But here he was, Spider-Man…
And even though he had accepted the great responsibility and the great power…
Somehow, he had managed to fail anyway.
Tossing and turning, Miles wrestled with a daunting problem, one that was keeping him awake far more than the external injuries.
"I know I must be Spider-Man… And I want to be Spider-Man…"
He sighed, standing up, feeling so…
Small.
"But can I be a good enough Spider-Man?"
Sure, he had done pretty well in his first two weeks, and sure he had stopped Kingpin the first time.
But he had had help that first time, and since then he had taken mostly on small time burgalors and trees containing cats.
And sure, those weren't nothing, but unless Doc Ock was secretly a car burglering tree, he was hardly trained for the big leagues.
This was serious: Doc Ock could be out there, with a half finished super collider.
Miles found his fists clenching alongside his jaw.
Doc Ock could be out there with a half finished super collider.
THUD! Went the floor as he stepped down, thwiping his backpack towards him.
DOC OCK could be OUT THERE with a HALF FINISHED SUPER COLLIDER.
In no time flat, Miles had his costume on.
And he was enraged.
"Doctor Octopus has the super collider! I can't sit here moping for myself!"
Opening the window, Miles began to scale the roof of his house, the night wind giving him a chill, but not as much as the thought of what Doc Ock could do with that power.
"I HAVE TO STOP HER! I HAVE TO!"
Miles had never been more determined in his life.
He had to do the right thing, he had to save them, save them all!
But Miles couldn't even leave the roof.
As his feet began to traverse the wet trappings of the top of his house, he slipped and fell, hitting his head one time too many.
Water splashed all over him and his shivers worsened as his sight weakened.
Damp clothes stuck themselves to his skin, and the blood soaked bandages fell off, his wounds opening again.
Squinting eyes, Miles could almost see Peter in the clouds…
Disapproving.
As sleep fell over him, Miles could only hear one voice:
"You're no hero… You can't even save yourself…"
And as his nightmare started, Miles could only say:
"…Sorry… Peter…"
MILES' NIGHTMARE.
21:48 PM.
ABSTRACT COLOR FILLED HELLSCAPE.
TODAY'S MUSICAL SELECTION: "The Rose With The Broken Neck" by Danger Mouse (check it out, it's great!)
Floating in clouds of red, pink and orange, Miles, purple and green from head to foot, his costume all but gone except for the spider emblem that defiantly stuck on, slowly opened his eyes as he saw the ground…
And he's falling.
Greeeaaaaatttt…
He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out.
And no one was there to listen.
Panicking, Miles tried to use his webshooters, but they were seemingly out of web fluid, because of course they were out of web fluid, WHY WOULD ANYTHING WORK?
He clicked again and again as clouds with May and Ganke and his parent's faces raced past, but he didn't have time to notice that weird detail, since he was falling to his death and all that jazz.
Also, what's up with this song? He's never heard it in his life.
What was really annoying was that he could still say nothing, it was like his mouth was being covered up.
Huh.
Why was he applying plaster to his mouth?
More importantly, why couldn't he stop?
I mean, it tastes great, could probably use a little more something something, maybe some chilly sauce WHAT THE FUCK WAS HE THINKING?
Whatever, doesn't matter if he's going insane, gotta focus, gotta web myself out of death, which is taking a lot longer than it should.
But despite all his pressing, the webshooters came out dry, before turning into his face.
"You're not trying hard enough…", it taunted, dead eyes and tired expression.
Miles growled. Of course he was trying hard enough! He was trying so hard and it was all crashing quite literally down anyway!
Angry and resentful, he threw the web shooters away, and they crashed into what looked like Hardy Foundation, suddenly spewing out a ton of webfluid.
"Now?", Miles thought, disappointed with the timing, and then horrified with the result, as the webs began to surround him.
The white net began to envelope him in darkness, and Miles tried to get out, punching and kicking and headbutting and scratching every which way but it was all for naught, the webs choking harder and harder, squeezing him and turning off the light.
His eyes started to pop out and his breath shortened as the webs tightened their hold, suffocating and restraining, his position immovable, unchangeable.
He mouthed "Let me out", but the webs decided to hold even harder, making Miles wheeze harder and harder and harder and harder and it was harder to keep his eyes open and it was harder to keep going and his hands hurt and his knees buckled and his neck tensed and his ears buzzed and his heart stopped and…
"Little fella?"
Miles opened his mouth but again nothing came out.
In fact, he couldn't even stand up, but that was the least surprising thing.
What was really weird was that everything was now black and white, yet he was still Purple/Green.
Looking in front of himself, there was nothing but miles and miles and miles of nothing, and behind him, there were Miles and Miles and Miles filled with nothing, dead stares.
Wait, what?
Miles jumped, startled. Still flinching, he cautiously extended a terrified pinky to touch the first one, which slightly rocked.
Opening his eyes, Miles slowly resumed his standing position, and waved a hand back and forth at the first Miles, who didn't respond despite his open eyes.
Miles was absolutely confused. What the hell was happening?
It was honestly a perfect replica, as were the hundreds if not thousands stretching out to infinity.
Curiosity got the better of Miles, and he stared straight into the first Miles, who was now suddenly in costume.
Jumping again before straightening himself, Miles couldn't help but sigh as he stared at the blacks and reds that HE had made, the costume HE had designed to stand out, to be HIS Spider-Man.
It was a work of blind, immediate passion…
"And it's just junk now.", he said, not noticing that he could talk.
He caressed the mask's cheek, and he saw himself.
"…Look at yourself. What happened to that confidence? That belief? That passion?"
Miles hugged himself, feeling cold, not hearing the footsteps behind him, slow and deliberate, echoing down the caverns and halls.
"…What happened to me?"
"I'll tell you what happened Miles."
Shouting out in fright, Miles aimed a finger gun at the new figure before him, only to suddenly relax and adopt a gigantic surprised grin.
Sure, there was a sinkhole in front of him that was slowly sucking him in, perhaps forever, but…
Noir was standing in front of it.
"NOIR?!", Miles shouted out, enthralled.
Noir nodded, but his mask hid his expression.
If only Miles could see that it was not the smile he was sure it was hiding.
Miles held his head, his mind blown. "How did you end up here? Wait, you're here to help me, right?"
Miles cheered, pumping his fist. "Just what I need! Thanks, man!"
As Miles began a run up, he explained his problem. "You have NO IDEA what I've been through! I was falling down, my webshooters didn't work, and my mouth is covered up so I can't even talk! You probably can't even hear me!"
Miles leapt over the sinkhole, not even noticing that he had done that, and he offered Noir a high five.
But Noir didn't return it.
Miles, confused for a second, laughed it off. "Oh, yeah! I don't think we taught you that."
He grabbed Noir's arm and tried to teach him the modern custom. "See, you just need to kind of slap my…"
Now, it was sort of expected that Noir wouldn't know high fives.
What wasn't expected was Noir twisting his arm and then kneeing him in the stomach.
Wheezing, eyes wide and shocked, Miles could only cough as Noir grabbed him by the throat and webbed him tight, now only Miles' head sticking out.
Miles, still failing to believe what was going on, tried to talk but found his mouth covered again.
Noir removed the plaster and glared at Miles, his angry face very apparent through the black and white mask.
"Noir? Dude, what are you doing? It's me, Miles!", Miles tried to explain, begging and pleading for mercy.
"No… You're not Miles.", Noir suddenly articulated, slowly and coldly.
Miles could only stare as Noir suddenly removed Miles' "mask" and revealed a classic red Spider-Man mask.
"You're not Spider-Man, either."
The second mask was also removed and Miles found himself now with his usual face again, but his plaster was off.
"You're barely a kid…", Noir whispered harshly, rage in is voice.
He pointed at the long row of Miles', and Miles looked behind himself to see that somehow, they had all fallen.
"Your fault."
Noir tightened his hold.
"ALL your fault."
Miles shook his head. "It's not like that! I can still do it!"
Noir then laughed, a cold, cruel, almost evil laugh, that sent a chill down Miles' spine.
"You made two mistakes, kid: One!"
Harder. Miles could barely breath.
"I HATE jokes."
The hold was now loosening. Was he saved?
"And two…"
Suddenly, Miles felt the hand remove…
And he was above the sinkhole.
He couldn't scream…
Since he was once again applying the plaster.
"…You're holding back."
Miles fell down and down and down and as he did he suddenly saw the black and white place turn futuristic and anime-esque, and Noir was replaced with the pint sized genius Peni, who aimed a blaster at Miles.
"Peni? Not you too!"
But Miles' words were not heeded as Peni's blaster recharged and began to load its shot.
"Why not? You're letting me, aren't you?"
BOOM!
Miles fell down again and…
"You think you can save us by constantly beating yourself up?"
Ham too now?!
Ham punched Miles, and Miles, getting pissed and figuring out it was not really them since they would never do that, punched back.
But instead of "Ham" it was himself he punched, and Miles felt the pain he inflicted on other Miles on himself.
His nose was bleeding now and the blood turned into Peter's mask.
Peter didn't like that.
"JESUS, MILES! YOU'RE NOT ME!"
Punch again and now the Peter Miles knew was replaced with the Peter Miles lost.
"YOU'RE NOT EVEN YOURSELF!"
Punch and…
Leaning down, cupping his chin, Gwen grinned maliciously.
"As if I'd ever love someone like you… Someone who gives up… Someone who can't notice what's underneath his nose…"
Miles didn't look down, but his parents were there.
May was there.
Ganke was there.
They all held a safety net, but Miles didn't notice, too busy he was crying.
"You're holding back!"
Punch and punch as each spider replaced the other taking turns beating him up.
"You're stronger than this!", Noir shouted.
"You're better than this!", Peni shouted.
"You need to roll with the punches, baby!", Ham shouted with a Mr. Incredible mask.
"You're smarter than this!", Gwen shouted.
"You need to stand up and let them stand you up!", Peter shouted, and his punch sent Miles into the arms of his Peter.
His Pete looked at him with disgust.
Miles looked down. "I'm sorry… But you can't hear me."
"No… You're doing this to yourself."
Miles looked down to see himself applying more plaster.
Why was he doing this?
Peter shook his head.
"You wanna be Spider-Man?"
He threw him down to the ground.
"Stop giving up."
Miles fell and fell and fell as octopus arms began to rise from below him.
"Oh crap!", Miles thought and he tried to escape but the arms enveloped him, Doc Ock's face one of horror and utter madness.
She had a long tongue that slithered down his neck and a knife to his throat.
"Don't you see? WE are one!", she announced with a terryifing voice that echoed and feedbacked in his ears.
Miles screamed again, only for something even odder to happen:
Doc Ock hugged him.
Like, really hugged him, with tears and everything.
"Nothing is as it seems…", she whispered, caressing his hair and kissing his forehead, making Miles feel very warm.
"Look inside yourself… And find the man in the spider."
She touched his emblem and it began to burn as Miles folded into himself.
"Alone alone alone alone alone alone you are…"
Miles crashed down suddenly back on the roof, through the word "Alone" and he smashed onto the roof, which oddly made no sound.
As Miles' head shook back awake and he panted hard and heavy, a split screen formed and Doc Ock was too on her knees.
She wasn't in the warehouse…
Since there was nothing in the warehouse.
Despite her best planning, despite her real threats, despite her highest efforts…
Despite her love and commitment…
She had failed.
Lydia had managed to order the machine destroyed just in time.
And unfortunately there was no point in killing her.
So Doc Ock stood up and Liv knelt down as she looked at the grave stone in front of her, rain soaking it and thunder crashing above, almost as if the spirit in said grave was angry.
As he should be.
Tears soaking her cheeks even more than the rain, Liv held the grave close, hugging it, sobbing and shaking, a fraction of her former self who was so triumphant and jubilant before.
Miles was still trying to digest the dream.
He looked at the sky and saw the web he had made above him.
He didn't remember doing it, but he had done it.
Weaved beautifuly, the silk shone in the night sky like a diamond, its bright light his only company.
Sitting up, Miles shook as he took the wrong message from his dream.
Tears soaking his mask which he took off, Miles looked neither like a hero nor like himself.
He was a boy…
And he was utterly, utterly…
"Alone" read the web.
Feeling his spit in his throat, Miles cried out, quietly and silently and broken, "Help… Help, please…"
"Help… Please help me…", Liv said, nearly breaking the stone.
"I'm… I'm lost. I'm alone. I… I need help.", Miles called out, but no one answered.
Together, at the same time, Miles and Liv expressed one terrible thought.
"I'm not good enough. Please… Help…"
They shook and shed one single tear.
"I don't want to be alone…"
Easter Egg List:
1. Once again, Bruce the Gargoyle is a reference to "Spider-Man: The Animated Series" (1990's).
2. "Good Enough" may be an obvious title, but the lyrics fit Miles all too well!
3. Negative Electric Charge (obviously) stands for Miles' restraining of himself, particularly in this chapter.
4. Do I need to explain "Marvelous"? Fine, Marvel Comics, ok?
5. The Daily Bugle Headline "He's Back!" is a reference to Spider-Man 2's famous headline moment.
6. Once again, "Sunflower" was in the movie and was Miles' favorite song, so it HAD to be the ringtone.
7. I don't need to explain why Jefferson said "Responsibility".
8. Hardy Foundation Research Center only really exists in "Spider-Man: The Animated Series" (1990's), so that's another reference from that.
9. The footsteps that walked away are… Well, I'm pretty sure you could guess with some research.
10. The "All these sounds had been and would be heard again" is a reference to Peter Pan's "All this has happened before and all this will happen again" line.
11. Reggie, Jerome, Kyle and Cedric are all humans from "Shrek 2". Yes, really.
12. Also, the coffee and Monte Christo line is a reference to Fairy Godmother's lunch order from "Shrek 2", as is Jerome's answer of "Yes, Ms. Hardy. Right away."
13. Leopard coated chair because of the whole "Black Cat" theme.
14. Dario Aggar is one of the CEO's of Roxxon, one of the many evil companies in Marvel Comics. Dario can turn into the minotaur, if memory serves.
15. The three examples of better weaknesses reference each one of the other CEO's: Norman's insane, Fisk misses his family and golden string was the key to beating the Minotaur in Greek mythology.
16. And finally, my version of Felicia Hardy enters the scene! It's definitely different to most versions, and I'm sure that not all of you will like her. To those of you who don't: Patience. She has a LOT more depth than you think…
17. Do I even need to explain why Felicia is called "Kitty" by Lydia?
18. Again, "Rich Girl" may seem obvious, but the lyrics tell more.
19. Squakes are Tweets because alternate universe jokes are great!
20. Garfield is a cat and Felicia is a cat cat cat cat cat puns she be a cat!
21. For those interested in Felicia going to Visions, you'll have to wait for the sequel to this story.
22. Hissed LIKE A CAT GET IT?
23. End. Of. Discussion. Is an Amphibia reference. Sasha says that to Anne when she's being a toxic friend.
24. Doc Ock attacking Lydia is a reference of sorts to the "Spider-Man: The Animated Series" episode where that happens.
25. Also, Lydia massaging her temples looks like Yzma doing that in "The Emperor's New Groove", in her first scene.
26. Tempered Glass is the strongest type of glass there is, and it means that Miles is stronger than he thinks.
27. Miles' calming down process from the film is used in the scene when he's outside Lydia's office door.
28. Do I EVEN need to explain "Cat got your tongue"?
29. I thought it would be interesting if Walter Hardy had some Black Cat esque gadgets, and it made sense to me that Lydia would have some left over, just in case.
30. I tried to go for a horror movie tone when Doc Ock gets really pissed at Lydia.
31. There's a reason Miles looks more like Peter than himself at his worst, and I'm sure you all get it.
32. The "Heh. Lucky" moment is a reference to a similar scene in "Batman: Year 1".
33. "The Rose With The Broken Neck" is one of the MANY great songs from Danger Mouse's underrated album "Rome". PLEASE HEAR IT IT'S BRILLIANT!
34. There's some color theory in the dream, in terms of color wheel.
35. The many Miles' scene was inspired by the hall of Rey's scene from "The Last Jedi".
36. Ham referenced Incredibles 2 cause he would.