AN: We're at the point where Miguel's name will be inconsistently interchanged with Spider-Man more and more frequently depending on the context/my fancy. Hopefully it's not confusing/annoying? Sorry if it is eep.
Some more mixed Venture and Miguel POV with some Gabriel thrown in at the end. Gotta say I've always liked Gabe. He's coo'.
Also, this fic is on AO3! It's just behind a few chapters.
Venture
Northern District, Uptown Nueva York...
Just as Venture was recovering, there was another disturbance from under the bridge. A group of Thorites, dressed as some of their Norse idols, surged from the crowd and into the light. Many were wearing helmets, some with horns, others with ribbons coming off the top. Most had hammers. The only glorified cosplay that Miguel recognized was a woman wearing a Thor likeness. At first Miguel was bemused by their appearance, until he realized with dread that they were coming between him and the bounty hunter. Miguel had read enough of the Alchemax archives on Venture to know what he was capable of. He knew that the cyborg would tear them to shreds, if it suited him.
"Thou art an enemy of the Harbinger of Thor!" the ringleader's voice rang out in challenge, rallying his comrades to him. "That makes thee our enemy as well! Prepare to be thoroughly smited!"
Good grief. That Thorite on the skykite must've already started to spread rumours about Spider-Man's "return" to his peers. Might've posted the entire story to his social media blog or something. By now it'd probably reached legend status amongst these people, knowing them. Miguel couldn't really blame them for clinging onto hopes, no matter how ridiculous they seemed to him, but right now their well-being was a major concern.
Miguel snarled at them from his perch, "Get back you idiots! You don't know what you're dealing with!"
All Miguel wanted to do was try to throw Venture off his scent, but then these Thor-worshipers had come along and complicated things. He didn't know where they'd popped up from, and he didn't much care. The city seemed to be crawling with them these days. What he did know was that if they tried to slug it out with Venture, there would be a blood bath. On that point, Miguel was painfully right.
The glory-seeking, would-be defenders threw themselves at Venture, only to be batted aside like flies. To their credit, they didn't give up easily. One dropped down on Venture's back, seizing his coat and trying to swing his hammer at the cyborg's head. Up front, his buddy attacked as a distraction, and got a lump up the side of the head for his trouble. Nonplussed, Venture hurled the Thorite from his back by the very hammer he'd been holding, then threw him into the next attacker. The Thorites kept coming, the onlookers wincing and gasping at the brutality ensuing in front of them, but all the same not running or assisting. Some were even recording. Miguel wasn't much better. He crouched, a clawed hand outstretched helplessly. It was horrible.
"I can keep this juggling act going all day, son. 'Less it bores me. Then people start dying," said Venture. His voice was blunt, gruff, and maddeningly sage-like. Already Miguel hated him, moreso than before.
Venture thrust out two hands, knocking out two Thorites at the same time, the female Thor being one of them. His staff hit her, lighting up for a moment and making her shriek. More fanatics took their place, while another one dragged his downed comrades away and out of danger. At last Venture was open.
"You want their deaths on your conscience, son? Maybe you can live with it, but they can't."
Miguel bristled against the bridge, feeling his blood heat up under the skin-tight suit. "What I want..." He vaulted from the overhang, tensed muscles uncoiling like wound springs. "Is to be left alone!"
Unflappable, Venture let his target come to him. When he was close enough, the Cyborg thrust out his empty arm and hit the Man-Spider in the chest with the flat of it, knocking the air out of him. He flung the superhuman head over heels, letting the momentum of his leap carry him over. Venture's other arm, the one with the staff, jabbed at Miguel. Once more the end of the staff lit up for a split-second, humming with energy. It hit his wrist, and the ensuing sting laced up Miguel's arm like a barbed hot-iron. He yelped loudly, tumbling out of range.
"You've got guts, son. I'll give you that. But you've obviously got no style, no experience." Venture strode closer, kicking aside a groaning Thorite in his path. "And no chance."
Dazed, Miguel floundered to his knees and looked fearfully over his shoulder. He gripped his arm, wincing under the mask at the pin-pricking sensation the action caused. He hated to admit it, but Venture was right. His rod had nerve-numbed Miguel's right arm, and he was just getting started. The aghast and somehow entertained bystanders milled around behind Venture as he closed in, not knowing who to root for.
"Alchemax wants your black-clad butt, and I'm here to bring it to them. If you want to make this tough, it'll only be tough on you," announced Venture intimidatingly.
This is insane, Miguel reasoned to himself. Cradling his injured arm, he stood to face his opponent once again, stance low as though he wanted to flee. The last time I was in a serious fight, I was six years old... And I got clobbered. And now I'm trying to slug it out with Alchemax's number one hired Cyborg? What was I thinking?! Maybe... Miguel swallowed, adam's apple bobbing and shoulders sagging. Maybe Alchemax will cut me a break. Maybe if I surrender, we can work things out. I can talk to them. Talking's my strong point, not heroics.
About to give up but anxious to do so, Miguel backed up a step. He still couldn't move or feel his right arm, while his left arm itched something fierce. Enough was enough. The smart, survival-oriented part of his personality knew it was time to pack it in. Venture eyed him coolly, completely collected. He sensed that his target was on the brink of surrendering, but perhaps he just needed another nudge to cement his decision. The opportunity for that nudge came in the form of a Thorite sneaking up behind Venture. The man might've gone undetected, if not for Venture's heat-tracking function and his poorly-timed battle cry.
"Well, 'Spider-Man'?" Venture drawled, just as the Thorite lifted his hammer in preparation to strike.
"In the name of Thor, God of Thunder, I-"
His patience for these meddling antics at an end, Venture whipped around and brutally cross-checked the young man in the gut with his staff. Wheezing and spitting from the force behind the rod's length, the Thorite buckled over. A second swipe aimed at his ankles swept him off his feet.
"Shut up, kid! I wasn't talking to you. In fact," Venture turned his staff vertically and stabbed it downwards. His machine-enhanced strength propelled the end of it into the Asgardian-dressed mortal. Skin, muscles, and bone yielded, the broken body emitting a sickening crunch. In a bored manner, Venture leaned on the weapon and twisted it ever so slightly. "You're such a waste of protoplasm, I don't think anyone will benefit from talking to you."
"Grrrkh!" the man gasped before he went limp.
Venture yanked the staff the staff free of the cadaver and brought it up to eye-level. Casually, he flicked the blood dripping off it in Miguel and the appalled Thorites' general direction. "In case you thought I was kidding, Spider-Man... I don't kid, and I don't scare. But I don't think you can say the same. I can smell your fear from here, and you're smart to be scared."
Aghast and stunned, the Thor-wearing-woman wailed, "Balder's dead! He's dead! The first sign of the end is upon us!"
Venture directed his next words to her, her companions, and the masked man. "Hey, kill one of you or all of you... makes no difference to me. I'm on overtime. How many more that'll die will depend entirely on the man in black."
Miguel's eyes travelled up from the corpse to the expectant cyborg. Silent and shivering, he shrank into a half-squat. His one hand still hung limp at his side, but the other slowly opened and closed into a fist. Without warning, Spider-Man launched himself at the murderer with legs bent outwards.
"Well, now this is just plain stupid, son. You don't have to prove anything to me, in fact, you can't..." said Venture. He sidestepped and took a swing at Spider-Man, but Miguel dropped into a wide stance and ducked, one hand on the ground for support. "...Except that maybe you aren't as smart as I thought you w-" While Venture was off balance, Spider-Man hurled himself upwards at the bounty hunter and rammed his fist into his jaw, eliciting a pained grunt.
"Shut up!" Spider-Man spat at him before jumping onto an adjacent building, then springing from there onto a pole. Venture promptly recuperated, retrieving the gun on his back and levelling it at Spider-man's retreating form.
"Hit and run, eh?" Squinting, he swiftly undid the safety and aimed. "Not the way a real man does business."
A blast of blistering heat and light turned the spot where Spider-Man had been a second before into molten magma. Spider-Man felt the hairs on the back of his head rise at the close call. This guy was playing for keeps, now. All Venture needed to do was drag him to Alchemax, half-alive if needed, where he could be fixed up at a later time. He had to hurry, had to ignore Venture's yammering. It was designed to distract him, and so far it'd worked.
Do this by the numbers. Go back to your original plan. Namely, the plan was to retrace the path he took when he was just plain, confused Miguel O'Hara, staggering home with his brand new spiderpowers. That was the heat path Venture was tracing, the path that would have brought him straight to Miguel's apartment. By double-tracing over it, Miguel would wipe it out. Hopefully it won't occur to Venture that I'm following my own trail. After all, I'd have to be out of my mind to deliberately lead him right to my place. At least, I hope that's what he thinks. Otherwise I'm dead.
Spider-Man kept ping-ponging between points, desperately dodging shots from the flying cyborg on his tail. Wait, flying?! He fleetingly glanced over his shoulder to check the authenticity of what he'd seen. Venture was indeed hovering with the aid of jet boots, closing in fast. Oh, shock. Miguel didn't remember reading that in the file. Filled with even more urgency than before, Miguel made his way to back to Babylon Towers. He charged through the lobby and coincidentally ran into a familiar face leaving just at that moment.
"OUT OF THE WAY!" Spider-Man yelled at Gabriel O'Hara. His surprised younger brother bent over sideways to avoid the costumed man jumping over his head, then flailed to the other side when Venture blazed past him with his jet boots seconds later. Gabriel seemed OK, and that was all that mattered to Miguel, besides keeping himself alive. Unlike Miguel, Venture had no interest in Gabe.
By the time Venture was inside the lobby Miguel had already gotten in his regular elevator, which skyrocketed through all the preceding levels until it got to his own. On the bottom floor, Venture could see Spider-Man's body heat move through the shaft. He pressed his lips together in a thin line. He's running scared. Thinks he can hide. Poor kid, I almost pity him.
"Welcome to Babylon Towers, sir, may I be of assistance?" the well-dressed concierge stuttered.
"No," answered Venture shortly, getting into his own elevator.
Whilst waiting for the indicator panel to hit his floor, the east tower's two-hundred-and-fifty-second floor, to be exact, Miguel contemplated how foolish he felt in this costume. He must've looked ridiculous. Wearing it in Mexico for the Day of the Dead festival was one thing, with everyone else dressed up somewhat similarly, but this... Well, so long as nobody recognized him, he would worry about living first and fashion later.
No sooner had Miguel gotten off, then Venture blasted through the doors of the neighbouring elevator. "AAACKK," Spider-Man cried, tumbling forward from the sudden force of the explosion. Convalescing quickly through the aid of adrenaline, Spider-Man sprang to his feet and sprinted for cover. Yep, his mode of dress was definitely the least of his problems right now.
He didn't see Venture emerge from the flames of the elevator, but he heard him speak. "Taking lives is bad enough, but now you're forcing me to use plasma bolts on innocent machinery just to get to you, son. When's it going to end?"
It was much easier at this point to block out Venture's taunts and threats. Swiftly and with surprisingly strength, Spider-Man ripped his door free from its frame. After all, he couldn't have the door suspiciously open for him as the registered owner of the unit. With the door tossed to the side, Spider-Man darted inside just as another bolt blazed into the apartment behind him. Without the protection of the UMF, Spider-Man was sure that the shot would've singed his skin and blistered his back.
Lyla started her spiel immediately upon his entry. There was no hiding who he was from her, costume or no costume, especially since she had seen him put it on earlier. "Hello, Miguel. You're home early. You have two calls from-"
"NOT NOW!" Flinching from another blast, Miguel ran through her and into his bedroom, hands over his head. The sight of a shattered window pane was there to greet him when he got there. Lyla had followed him all the while, projecting herself beside him. Venture was literally lacking seconds on overtaking Spider-Man's lead, so he had to be quick.
"Lyla, listen!" barked Spider-Man sternly. Lyla perked up posthaste, almost like a soldier at attention. With firm emphasis, Spider-Man pointed at the window he'd broken prior to this whole game of cat-and-mouse. "I want you to point right there and repeat after me: 'There was a horrible man in black! And he went through there!' Okay Lyla? Good girl!" With that out of the way, Spider-Man forthwith flung himself from his window, falling for the second time that day.
Venture arrived the moment his target was gone, and Lyla was there to receive him with her freshly programmed performance. "There was a horrible man in black!" she told him, gesturing to the empty window frame. "And he went through there-!"
"I can see that, thanks." Venture peered out and dipped the barrel of his gun over the window sill.
At the Cyborg's back, Lyla flashed a winning grin. "-Okay Lyla? Good girl!"
Not thinking much of the AI-Holo's parting comment, Venture activated the jets in his feet and followed after his prey. It didn't take long to see him. In fact, he was hard to miss. Spider-Man was about halfway down to the bottom of Babylon Towers, but Venture was in hot pursuit.
This may have only been Spider-Man's third sky-dive of his lifetime, but by grace of necessity and haste he was getting the hang of it. It was still awkward, but he was able to angle the sophisticated light byte material with much more ease to utilize updrafts. His arms were extended to help facilitate this process, claws raking the air. The few interspersed anti-grav particles the "cape" contained were of a great help. Even if his limbs sometimes swung about wildly, Spider-Man found he could keep himself almost entirely upright when he wanted, or plunge head-first for more speed.
The numbness had worn off on Spider-Man's arm, but now both forearms itched like the devil. It was so intense at this point that it was almost painful, and impossible to ignore. Like barbs, needling in and out of his flesh. He'd noticed the sensation earlier in his apartment with Gabriel, but hadn't had much chance to think on it. The feeling, whatever it was, filled Spider-Man with a sense of pessimistic dread. What the hell is going on? Am I going to sprout more arms or something?
"You can't escape, son!" called Venture after him.
"For someone who's so positive I can't escape, you sure keep mentioning it a lot." Finally, Spider-Man landed daintily on a floating traffic controller. It had a light and a few advertisements attached to it, one of which Spider-Man clung to.
Venture shrugged to himself. "Well, you got me there, son. Actually, I'm talking to keep myself awake during your 'escape attempts', It's more polite than just yawning." On that last word, Venture's gun shredded a sizzling hole straight through the "SAY NO TO PLUGS" sign that had previously been Spider-Man's perch. Not for the first time that day, Spider-Man found himself remarkably adept at dodging. He grabbed the bottom of the billboard and swung off it like it was a monkey bar, out of sight.
I wonder if I get on people's nerves this much when I mouth off as Miguel? thought Spider-Man, steaming. He slipped behind a glowing "ALCHEMAX" sign, then scuttered to the other side to try and catch Venture off-guard again. He felt in his element, here, hiding and letting his foe come to him rather than being on the run. Venture was still hovering around him, circling like a tiger on the prowl, in search of some sort of sign of Spider-Man's whereabouts. Stumped at where his fast-footed target had gotten off to, the cyborg turned his back to Miguel's hiding spot, head twisting this way and that.
"I'm running out of warning shots, son. My goal is to bring you back in one piece... But if it's several pieces, then that's your choice-UNNH!"
Taking his chance, Spider-Man used the sign like a springboard and landed a single, devastating punch right across Venture's scruffy mug. Spit flew from his mouth, and Spider-Man felt something dent. Although the bounty hunter's boots maintained his altitude, the force of Spider-Man's wallop sent him careening backwards. He wobbled in the air for a while before regaining his equilibrium. Spider-Man was watching him, stretched out on all fours on another billboard, but at seeing Venture sneer in his direction he was already starting to scurry away. Venture was having none of that.
"Nice move, son. Skittered back around the other side and bush-whacked me. Good thinking," said Venture in a commentative tone. He came closer, readying his nerve-numbing rod. When Spider-Man made to jump, the cyborg was already upon him. He darted in, activated his staff, and slashed it in a small arc at Spider-Man's chest. It instantly lit up and Spider-Man screamed. Venture jabbed him again for good measure, the motion not unlike that of a shock-stick used for animal control. In a way, his staff was more of a glorified stun-gun baton, but it got the job done.
"Now, if you'd done some good thinking before wrecking an Alchemax lab, you might have avoided some serious shit."
The contact had been quick, but enough. Spider-Man felt almost his entire body go numb, spreading out from the epicentre of the staff's connection at his chest. Pins and needles played across his skin, and his limbs became limp at their furthest extremity. Dazed, Spider-Man dropped. For a time, Venture let him fall.
"As it is, you're done," he gloated. Before swooping in to save Spider-Man from becoming a smear on the sidewalk, Venture made sure to rummage for something in his jacket. The thing he was looking for turned out to be a strange, yellow compartment, small and compact. With a lazy underhand toss, he loosed it at the winded superhuman. Upon touching his target the compartment expanded outwards, spewing out its contents of thick bands and loose streamers made from some strong element. Faster than the eye could accurately track, the bands turned into bonds, smoothly winding around the contours of Spider-Man's body and shaping themselves accordingly. They constricted snugly, but not enough to be suffocating.
Spider-Man writhed as Venture snatched him out of the air like a kitten. He carried his captured quarry by the end of his rod, fitting it easily through the bonds that covered Spider-Man's ankles. The fastenings likewise automatically attached themselves to the staff, adding an extra layer of security. Spider-Man's arms were pinned across his chest, like a straitjacket, and his legs were bound together so tight that he might as well be hogtied. This didn't stop Spider-Man from struggling, but it was supremely strenuous even without his body reeling from effectively being tasered.
"LET ME GO!" His tongue may have been numb, but Miguel's demand rang loud and clear. Venture was less than impressed. The cyborg's mind was miles away, on the money and other rewards awaiting him at Alchemax. The mission was over.
"No can do, son. For what it's worth, you gave me the longest workout I've had in a while. Rejoice in the little victories, Spider-Man. But the big one is all mine."
/
Earlier... Babylon Towers...
Drop dead, Miguel, thought Gabriel O'Hara grumpily. The digital programmer and animator, and former full-time net glider, was pissed. He strode down the last lobby steps, head downturned, hands in his pockets, lost in thought.
Ever since they were kids Gabriel had had a bad feeling about his brother's job. Only recently had his newest girlfriend Kasey helped Gabriel to put a finger on that feeling, and what it meant. From the moment that Tyler Stone's company limo had come for Miguel all those years ago, Gabriel had known deep down that Alchemax wasn't good for him. Wasn't good for anyone, although Miguel insisted it was a necessary evil. That was another thing that bugged Gabriel about Miguel. Miguel was always right, and if the answer was subjective, then he was always right in his mind.
Well, he wasn't right about this.
Maybe it'd been a blessing that the prodigy, golden child Miguel had gone off to lose his humanity, while artsy and meek Gabriel had been left at home. Sure, he'd been underappreciated by their Dad, since he wasn't bringing in Alchemax benefits, but Mamá had always preferred Gabriel. That still didn't stop a swell of jealousy in Gabriel, thinking back on those days. Under that undercurrent, though, Gabriel was both grateful and saddened on Miguel's behalf. He'd rather be himself than some disillusioned supergenius, trapped in the corporate machine. Shame that Miguel didn't see it that way.
Those people would eat him up alive, or what was left of him, anyway. Alchemax might've already swallowed most of Miguel's morality whole. Miguel didn't talk much about work, but from what Gabriel could gather, none of it was entirely ethical. He must've finally gotten spooked though, if they'd broken out the Rapture...
That call from Dana last night had been both terrifying and expected. Dana had once been his girlfriend, and even if their romance hadn't ended on the best of terms, they had retained the best parts of their relationship. Now she was more like a sister to him, especially now that she and Miguel were engaged. He'd be lying if he said there weren't any lingering feelings there, but the both of them had moved on for the better. It'd hurt to hear her so scared, but somehow, Gabriel had been waiting on news like this. Something bad had been bound to happen, eventually. Miguel's involvement with a ruthless megacorp would blow up in his face, either before or after Kasey's predicted revolution. Gabriel wanted to save him, since Miguel certainly wouldn't save himself.
We're supposed to be brothers, but you treat me like-
Gabriel's thought broke off. He paused at the top of the outdoor entrance stairs. A flash of black, blue, and red flashed across his field of vision. The sound of distant jets rocketed in his ears. Two colourful figures were headed his way. "Huh?" he said, just as all chaos erupted.
"OUT OF THE WAY!"
The masculine figure in front vaulted straight over Gabriel. He was in full-body costume that felt familiar to Gabriel, though only later would he have time to fully think on it. He'd shouted something at Gabriel, and though the content was a generic warning, the source had struck a chord in Gabe. That voice... Muffled as it was, it meant something to Gabriel. He didn't have much time to ponder it as the costumed lunatic bounded overhead. They were so close that their clothes brushed together. Alarmed, Gabriel leaned over, almost falling.
"Move it or lose it, boy. I'm in pursuit here," a vastly different voice commanded.
Seconds later Gabe was forced to clumsily sidestep out of the path of the first figure's pursuer. This one was wearing a long brown coat and a stetson hat. Gabriel didn't get a good look at his face, but his getup screamed "cowboy". It called to mind all the "Old West" models Gabriel had been utilizing in his latest commission. The heat from the second person's metal boots almost scorched Gabriel's jacket, and Gabriel let out a wordless yell. Neither chaser nor chasee ever looked back.
Gabriel turned in time to see duster-wearing-guy head into an elevator. The closing doors blocked him off from view, but at last Gabriel got a look at his face. What he saw made him shudder slightly. Cyborg. A crazed cyborg, in Miguel's building, chasing...
Gabriel blinked. The outfit, the agility, the voice... "It... it can't be. Was that...?"
No goddamn way.
Before Gabriel knew it he was barrelling back inside. He barged through a few other people, including the speechlessly mortified secretary. Public Eyes were already swarming around outside, like a disturbed hornets' nest. Whoever those two loonies were, they'd attracted a lot of attention. Speaking of them, they'd both went up the elevator shaft. Gabe had to follow, get up to Miguel's place, fast. There were plenty of unused, undamaged elevators, so Gabriel picked the nearest one.
"Holee shock," he muttered to himself. What a mess. Gabriel's mind was racing a mile a minute. All he could do was repeat: get to Miguel's place, get to Miguel's place...
The elevator couldn't seem to move fast enough. Immediately upon exiting Gabriel could smell and see smoke on Miguel's floor. Not a good sign, and not likely by chance that of the hundreds of floors... Some of Gabriel's initial suspicions were confirmed when he saw the smoke curling in tendrils from Miguel's apartment. The door was carelessly tossed to the side like a piece of trash. The kitchen-lounge was an absolute mess; Gabriel rushed through it without much sightseeing. God damn it, Miguel. Your luck is shocking shit.
"Lyla!" he hollered, poking his head into the bedroom. The LYrate Lifeform Approximation stood demurely in the center of the devastated room, a broken window at her back. She greeted him with an inhumanely composed smile. Miguel was nowhere in sight.
"Hello, Gabriel. Your weight's increased by 2.3 pounds. Have you changed your dietary habits?"
Breathing and coughing through his sleeve, Gabriel carefully entered the bedchamber. For right now, the AI-generated holo was his only available witness, his only means of deciphering this shit show. "Lyla, what's going on?"
Nonchalantly, Lyla pointed a slender finger over her shoulder. "There was a horrible man in black, and he went through there. Okay, Lyla? Good girl," she recited, almost robotic-like. As if pleased with herself, the hologram draped her bent arms over her golden locks. Gabriel came to stand directly in front of her, a hand on his hip, the other jerking at the window in question.
"Lyla... What. Happened?"
"Destruction of private property. Building service maintenance 'bots have been notified. Full door and window repair and cleanup is projected to be completed within thirty-seven minutes."
"But why?!" pressed Gabriel in frustration.
"Because the repairs on elevator #2 take priority. Normally door and window repair and cleanup would be completed within sixteen minutes."
"Lyla, where's Mig?"
"Not at home," she chirped, as though confident in her helpfulness. Gabriel was less than satisfied, however.
Dios, could she be any more damn vague? he thought sarcastically, then said, "When did you last see him?"
"Five point three minutes ago."
Gabriel blinked at the specificity. I stand corrected. Lyla's answers tended to either be too nebulous to be of any help, or too elaborate when it came to useless details. Now came the moment of truth. Gabriel took a deep breath, his eyes piercing the yellow hologram.
"Lyla... What was he wearing?"
End of Chapter
Dundundun D:
Had to divide this chapter into two but the next part is coming. Review if you'd like it soon!