New York 2.0
Cold. He felt only cold. A chilling sting at the end of each of his limbs, bringing him back into consciousness. Feeling returned to his body slowly; he was lying down, his back pressed against a hard surface - stone, most likely. His clothing felt alien, like he wore it for the first time in his life. Every place of contact felt overstimulated, akin to a feeling of ants scurrying on a single spot in a loop. He couldn't get up, his body didn't listen to him; it honestly felt like it couldn't. He opened his eyes, the only part of him that obeyed his brain. Although they didn't work very well right now, everything was blurry, unfocused, like he was underwater.
The sky was dark, the stars hidden behind the light of the city. He could hear the usual hustle and bustle of the city, but it sounded...wrong. The car horns sounded odd, but he ignored that, for now. He remained in a lying position for a while, for 5 minutes at least, just listening to the unfamiliar sounds of the city, until his limbs were feeling somewhat responsive. He tried to sit up, all of his muscles and bones felt awful, like they could snap or break at any given moment.
Finally powering through the pain, he sat up, waited for his vision to focus a bit, and observed his surroundings. It looked like he was on a roof, with a small brick wall around its edge. There was a small hut in the middle, probably the entrance into the building. He tried to stand, his legs were wobbly, he nearly fell forward, but caught himself by putting his left leg in front of him at the last second. His arms hung limply by his side for a second, until he put them on his knees. He stood there, panting slightly and looking at his feet.
'Where am I?' he thought 'Did somebody drag me here while I slept?'
Judging by the fact he was in his Spider-Man outfit, which he didn't go to sleep in, that wasn't the case. If somebody wanted to kidnap him, he wouldn't wake up on some roof, unrestrained and unharmed, even if a little sore. His M1911 was also in its holster - that was reassuring - although he didn't have any spare magazines. He pulled it out of its holster, ejected the magazine and checked the chamber.
'One in the chamber. The magazine's full. 8 in total.' He inserted the mag back and holstered his pistol.
Standing up straighter, he clumsily walked closer to the edge of the roof, and looked at the city, at New York. His eyes finally regained their usual clarity, and he could see properly again.
It wasn't New York, at least not his New York. Everything was different, the cars were some weird long shape, some buildings were similar , but the giant glass towers beside the skyscrapers he was used to looked alien to him, like a badly placed prop not fitting into the scene. He rubbed his eyes, but the visage remained the same.
He looked down onto the street. The building he was standing on was approximately 7 stories, he assumed it was somewhere in Queens, if the Queensboro Bridge nearby was any indication. He backed off from the edge of the building and just stood there, perplexed at his current predicament.
'What is this? What happened to New York? How long was I out?' All these questions swam around inside his head. His hands felt clammy, he kept flexing his fingers in and out of a fist every few seconds, unable to keep calm in his confusion.
'I have to find out what happened to me. Maybe I was drugged? No. Who would drug me and dump me onto some random roof, and dress me too'.
He went to the side of the building that was away from the street, parallel to another structure, an apartment complex, three stories taller than the building he was standing on. He looked down, and checked if there were any people there. None. Perfect. He jumped on the ledge, attached a line of web to it, and rappelled down.
The clearing he descended into was a half empty parking space, made to accommodate 10 cars, there were five of those weird ones parked there.
He laid his hand on the closest one while passing it by. The hull was smooth, smoother than any car he's touched. Although he hasn't touched many of them in his life, one or two, if his memory serves him right. The car looked like a flat slab with wheels and a small hump in the middle. The colors were exotic too, this one was white, not very common, but not unseen. The other cars were another story, one was purple, the other was a bright green color, bordering on neon. The remaining two were simply black, although one was slightly bluish.
The one his hand was on had a brand on the front of its hull, something akin to a pretzel, or three circles, one going through the other, and the third encompassing them both. 'Did some pretzel company start making cars?'
He stopped inspecting the car and looked to the part of the clearing closer to the street. A pair of dumpsters and some plastic bags were tucked into a designated spot, a sign displaying the words 'GARBAGE' in bold, yellower letters was plastered on the wall above it. The plastic bags specifically confused him. 'Why use something as expensive as plastic to store trash in it?' he wondered, just before something caught his eye.
A strange object was lying near the bag, judging by its position it fell out of a hole on the bag's side. Picking it up with a crouch, he examined it. A thin metal sheet, half an inch thick, with one side made of glass. It had three small buttons on its sides, one on the right, and two on the left, which didn't do anything when he pressed them. 'I haven't seen anything like this before. Judging by the buttons it's supposed to do something, but what?' he mused, intrigued by the small piece of unknown machinery.
His thoughts were interrupted when he remembered his primary goal 'Focus, Parker, you can tinker with this later.'
He put the little half glass/half metal brick into his left pocket, took off his mask and gloves, and put them in the other one. Patting down his disheveled hair, he made his way into the street.
The people were...unusual. Dressed in clothing that looked strangely puffy. Most of the people wore jeans; odd choice of attire if you're not a farmer. But the shoes were the biggest offender. Everyone wore something that just spewed color: pink, green, red, white, orange. The most exotic one's he has ever seen were red, worn by Felicia, and those were for special occasions. And the shape of some was rather awful, looking more like balloons than shoes.
A glowing billboard showed one of those glass bricks, being held by a smiling man with soulless eyes, a glowing panel where the glass was, displaying some blocks with diagrams on them. 'Is it supposed to glow?'.
He looked around. At least a dozen people were looking at these same glowing boxes in their hands, using their fingers to swipe across the screen.
He looked around the street. On a roadside sign was an address - "42-3 Vernon Blvd". That didn't really tell him anything. He couldn't remember if he's been to this place before. Walking further along the street he saw a corner shop, animated neon signs all around the front window. One in particular caught his attention, it seemed to display the time. Red lettering moved horizontally, scrolling rather quickly across the weird sign. It displayed the time first: '6:16 PM', and then the date 'October 21'.
Wait. October?
It was November the last time he checked. Is this thing busted? He put his hands in his pockets, and walked past the shop looking for something else displaying the date. He walked for about five minutes, taking in the sight of the changed city he spent all his life in, before stumbling onto a giant television high above a road. In the top left corner he spotted a small clock.
'6:21 PM 10/21/22'
'22?! 1922? No, the technology is too advanced. 2022? A hundred years? '
He felt dizzy, nausea creeping up from his stomach to his throat. Walking to the closest wall, Peter pressed his back against it and slid down to the floor. Looking at the ground, he brought his hands up to his face. His right foot started compulsively tapping against the ground.
'One hundred years. How did this happen? Am I dead? Am I in hell? Is this just a nightmare?' Were his immediate thoughts. He wanted to wake up, to see Aunt May, to go back, to go home.
"Hey…Are you okay?" Somebody asked. It was a young woman, judging by the voice. "Did something happen?" He brought his hands away from his face. A young woman, 20 something years old, shoulder length brown hair, dressed in one of the puffy jackets, hers was red. She was crouching in front of him, looking at him with worried eyes.
"...No, everything's fine. But...could you tell me what year it is, please?" He wanted to confirm it, to hear it from someone's mouth. She looked at him with a confused expression, her answer was somewhat hesitant. "It's...uh...2022". His eyes widened slightly, 'Fuck'. "Are you alright? You look kind of...ill". This woman was too nice.
"...No, thank you. I think I'll be fine" he said, standing up. After dusting off his butt Peter briskly walked away.
'The hell am I supposed to do now? I don't know anybody, I have no home, it'll be winter soon, and I don't know how anything works in this...this...madhouse.'
He took out the gizmo he found near that dumpster from his left pocket and looked it over. He only now noticed the glass panel was cracked, and a piece of it was missing in the bottom left corner. Judging by the people walking around and staring at these things, it was supposed to display something on the glass. 'Is it like a small television'? he wondered. It had to work on some form of energy. He heard of batteries, but he has never seen or used one before. There was a small hole on the bottom or top side of the phone, he couldn't really tell which is which. 'What's this hole for? Maybe you connect the telephone cable here? No'. He looked to the left and saw a man pressing the thing to his ear, talking through it. 'Doesn't seem like it needs wires at all'
He needed to get some info. He didn't want to ask anyone directly (too much hassle for both parties), and he doubted anyone would go out of their way to explain one hundred years of history to some unknown man. Libraries should still be around, he could read up on history and figure out how things work around here, and how this thing worked.
He asked some random man for directions to the nearest one, and went there as fast as he could.
The library wasn't like I remembered it. He has been to this particular one before - he could tell by the building, which was largely unchanged, except for the windows, that were now a white plastic, instead of the wood he was used to - although the interior was almost unrecognizable. The shelves of solid oak from his memories were replaced with thin, cheap looking wood. The shelves themself were more numerous, the books on them more colorful. Adorned with pictures on their covers, bold colorful lettering, and who knows what else the designers came up with.
He walked through the library, in search of the history section. After a short trek through the library, he finally found it. Looking through the shelves he sought something rounded, something that would have everything he needed. His gaze fell upon a thick book - 'History of the world' . Should be alright. He slid it out of the shelf, inspecting a cover. A collage of different objects and people: The Eifel tower, military Canons, Albert Einstein and many more things - a significant portion of which he couldn't even name - were displayed on the cover; He walked over to a nearby table and plopped the book open. Skipping most of it, he navigated to the time period just after 1934. He looked through the pages quickly, reading only the headlines and the first paragraph of each topic.
WW2, The invention of the Atomic Bomb, The Cold War, Man went to space, the Apollo mission - mans fist moon landing , the Soviet Union crumbled - the Cold War ended, The creation of the European Union.
There was a photo on one of the pages - the ones about space - a picture of a bright blue globe, with green islands all over it, labeled Earth.
'I missed so much'.
He went back to WW2. Hitler started his crusade in 1939, plunging Europe into chaos for 6 long years.
In 1941 the US created a super soldier. The walking embodiment of 'Freedom', as the book described him. Birth name - Steven Rodgers, however to everyone he was simply known as Captain America - a tall man in a red, blue and white suit, carrying an impenetrable shield with a star on it. The picture depicting him was old, dated to 1943, although it was in color; it was of him and his unit, dubbed "The Howling Commandos"; The man who beat the Nazis, stopped the Red Skull - colorful character, that one - and disappeared off the face of the earth. Well, that was the case, until he resurfaced as an agent of some spook agency called "S.H.I.E.L.D" in 2011.
'He could be the same as me. A man out of time, dumped in a foreign future. I need to find him - contact him - somehow. Right now, however, I need to find out more about this world'
He went back to the history aisle and picked another one - 'History of tech'. Again, he skipped everything prior to the 1930s and began skimming through the articles.
Computers, nuclear energy, micro transistors, jet engines, space travel. The internet, a World Wide Web that connected everything and everyone. Cell phones, the small glowing bricks everyone used, were so widespread there were less people on Earth than them.
'Technology advanced far slower than was anticipated' - he mused - "people thought there would be automatons and flying cars by now. Oh well, it will be easier to adapt to this society'
Even with that small comfort, however, it really was a hundred years. Everything was different. Everyone he knew was certainly dead, or near death, if they were lucky.
He pulled the 'smartphone' - as the book called it - and put it on the table, glass side up. Looking it over one more time, nothing particular stood out. He opened the latest book on the corresponding article, trying to figure out how to interact with the machine properly. There was a diagram depicting a similar machine to the one he had, a line pointing to the hole on the bottom, labeled - 'charging port'. He looked around the page looking for anything about what the port did. Apparently it charged the battery inside, making the phone reusable. 'So, I need to charge it. Although it's most probably broken - it was thrown into the trash' he reasoned. No one in their right mind would throw away a perfectly functional device, even if it was a bit scuffed. 'I wonder how much these things cost. Everyone has one, so they can't be expensive'.
Then an idea came to him - 'The Internet'. The book called it 'The biggest bank of information in existence', most of which was also free. And he wasn't swimming in cash right now, if that wasn't obvious. He gathered the books he used, went over to the history aisle, and placed them back in their spot on the shelves. If his memory was right, there was a small booth, with 5 computers near the entrance of the library, if he didn't confuse them for something else. He walked towards the entrance, his eyes scanning everything in his field of vision so he wouldn't miss them. They were ten meters to the left of the entrance, close to the librarians booth, probably to keep an eye on them. One of the machines was occupied by a young woman with blonde hair that ended an inch above her shoulders. He sat at the one furthest from her.
It was already powered on, the 'screen' displaying the 'desktop'. He didn't know what that meant, but the book called it a 'desktop screen'. The little thing under his right hand, the 'Rat' or 'Mouse' - he forgot how exactly it was labeled in the book - was supposedly used to 'move the cursor', he moved it around with his index finger, which moved the white arrow on the screen. 'Ok. So this thing moves the cursor. The left button should be for 'use' , whatever that means'. He searched for the 'internet icon', which...didn't exist. Oh, wait. There was an 'Internet Explorer'. That should do. He moved the mouse with his hand again and clicked on it.
A white rectangle popped up, Internet Explorer written in the top left. 'Ok. Now I need to find something about the 'smartphones', and how to get one'. A 'web page' displaying the word 'Google' in colorful letters appeared after a couple seconds, a bar with a looking glass on its left edge plastered in the middle. ' The book said I just have to write anything I want to know in the 'search bar' '. He navigated the cursor to the bar and clicked on the left rat button again. A vertical line appeared at the beginning. 'Alright. Now I need to write what I need', he lowered his eyes onto the 'keyboard', which was just a flat typewriter with square keys. He clumsily typed in 'smartphone' and pressed search.
A second later he got the results. Nothing on the page was relevant to him, most of it was just information on what a smartphone was. 'Let's clarify' he thought, and typed 'price' at the end. Now it was a bit better. Some website called 'NewEgg' - weird name - was the first result. After clicking on it, Peter was presented with a list, each with a name and a price. He looked at the first one on the list. "300 dollars!?" he said, rather loudly, before collecting himself. Looking around he saw the blonde was looking at him, the librarian too. Both seemingly confused, although the librarian had a slight frown on her face. He scratched the back of his head and just said - "Sorry" - turning back to the screen.
'What kind of price is 300 dollars? How does everyone have one around here?' The price was ridiculous, you could buy a car with that. 'Maybe the politics messed up the dollar value in the last 100 years. People are probably making way more money due to inflation or some other bullshit. Urich didn't really explain how that worked' He recalled Ben explaining some economics to him one time, when he asked something about the homeless. He couldn't remember, so he tried to scrub his memory clean of him after he found out about his involvement in Uncle Ben's death. Even now, his brows still furrowed with disdain for the man, even after what he'd done to atone for his sins.
He searched for minimum wage rates. Back home it was considered good pay to get a dollar an hour, but now, the minimum was seven and a half. And that was the minimum.
Suddenly a chair scraped across the floor. He shifted his gaze to the source of the sound. The blonde was hastily gathering all her belongings, shoving everything into a weird, blue backpack. She put it on her back a second later, and nearly ran out of the library. 'That's odd. Maybe something happened' He thought, and diverted his attention back to the screen.
He wanted to try searching for some other things. First thing that came to mind - his name. Searching 'Peter Parker' brought up dozens of news articles dating back to 2018, all saying "Spider-Woman suspected of killing Peter Benjamin Parker". Parker wasn't an uncommon surname, and Peter was certainly not a rare name either, but the photo attached wasn't common. It was a photo of him, at least him from when he was about 15 years old. Nothing like he looks now, and the eye color was different too. His eyes were gray, the kid's were brown. 'Alright. This is a bit concerning. But who is 'Spider-Woman'? Did she get inspired by me, or something?'
He searched for "Spider-Woman'', the first results being photographs taken from ground level, capturing someone swinging on cables, or most probably webs, in the streets of New York. But the one he was looking for was the close-up. The woman wore a black and white skin tight suit - he couldn't see a reason, but to each their own - with a hood over her masked head, with two triangular lenses adorning her face. 'The outfit seems a little...risqué'.
There were a ton of articles about her, the highest being the one about his dead doppelganger. One in particular caught his eye, titled "Spider-Woman: Hero or Menace". Opening the page he was met with a camera recording, showing her jumping out from a flaming building with a child in her arms. Another one, showing her webbing up armed crooks with bags of cash on their shoulders. 'She seems nice enough. Although she did kill that kid. She could have been fleeced, some people tried that on me, although it didn't quite catch on. Oh well. If my luck is still at play, I'll meet her soon enough'
The last picture featured in the article was of her and Captain America, standing side by side, the man flashing a bright smile at the camera. 'They seem friendly enough. If I can't find him, I'd have more luck with finding her, and then trying to contact the Captain. She seems to be in the streets a lot. And swinging in the air isn't exactly stealthy'
He rubbed his eyes, a sudden feeling of fatigue coming over them. 'I think I had enough internet for today'. He pressed the red button in the top right corner of the window, closing the internet thingy. Rising from the chair, he checked if he forgot anything important, and left.
After leaving the library he made his way across the city, going nowhere in particular. It was dark enough already to be night. He needed some place to sleep. It was too cold out - he wouldn't get ill, but the cold wouldn't let him sleep either - the chill would keep him from falling asleep. Going a couple days without sleep wasn't anything novel to him, but he was only human. He would get exhausted eventually. The clock in the café he passed said it was 8:34 PM. 'I wasted two hours in that library'. Well, wasted was a strong word. He did learn a lot of things about this world, and understood how the economy and technology changed. He even learned how to use the internet. So all in all, time well spent.
His walk was interrupted when a muffled crash reverberated throughout the air, it was maybe 150 feet to the left. He turned towards it, a building obstructing the source from his view. The next crash was closer, the ground shook a little. The people around him noticed that, some started walking faster, some ran altogether, and some just stayed still, fear making them freeze up. Peter stood in place, anticipation making him nervous. Until, suddenly, his spider-sense blared.
MOVE
He did. Grabbing two people closest to him he dashed to the left, just in time to not be flattered by a giant in a metal suit with a horn on its helmet. It ran on, unbothered despite just ramming through a building headfirst. A woman in a tight fitting white and black suit - Spider-Woman - swung out of the hole he made and raced after him. "Stop, you dumbass!" She screamed at the brute. Firing a web at his legs, she stuck them to the ground, only for it to not make any difference as the asphalt came off together with the webs. The idiot didn't even notice that.
He let go of the two he dragged out of the way, and looked around to see if anyone got injured. Thankfully, nobody did, at least seriously. He ran into a small alley, put on his mask and gloves, and ran after the two freaks.
He couldn't see them anymore, the darkness of the evening didn't help, but the sounds of destruction were loud enough to guide him. It also helped that everything left in the Rhino's wake was reduced to rubble, ang he left 4 inch deep potholes with every step he took. Buildings missing walls, cars flipped and burning. Peter ran after the two, at speeds unusual even for him. Every time his eyes witnessed another destroyed building, or flipped car his anger only grew. What were they even doing? The dame was trying to stop the gollumpus, but where did he even get a suit of armor like that? The coppers were preoccupied with helping the people who got caught in the rampage. 'I'm guessing that guy is above their pay grade'
Running through alleys and clambering over small buildings in his path, he made his way through the city. He was gaining on them, he could hear the sounds of destruction growing louder with each stride. He jumped over a 2 meter tall fence, and exited the alley he was running through. The street was clear of civilians, he could see a police cordon on either side. 'At least they're keeping the civies out of here'
His gaze focused on a 5 story structure. A multilevel parking lot. These were pretty rare at home, but he'd heard about them. He could hear them fighting on top. Growls could be heard before each impact. The top of the structure was shrouded in a thin cloud of dust, kicked up by the fighting. "I have to help her stop this clown", said Spider-Man. Running up to the structure, he jumped 15 feet in the air, and clung to the wall. Climbing up as fast as he can, he reached the top in under 2 seconds.
The two were fighting each other. The giant tried to punch the woman, which didn't work out very well. She dodged the strike, forcing his fist to collide with the ground. She webbed the giant's hand down, only for him to just rip out the concrete she webbed him to. He attempted to clobber her with it. She dodged, the clumsy swipe wasn't nearly fast enough to hit her, and the brute just smashed the ground, gouging out a piece of the floor in the process, as well as destroying the concrete webbed to his fist. "Stop trashing everything, man!" She shouted, jumping on his shoulders and punching him in the noggin. She jumped off his shoulders - just in time to not be grabbed by the brute's enormous hands - and landed gracefully 10 feet away.
"Stop bothering me, Spider!" he bellowed, charging at her. She leaped to the right, dodging his attack and landing 15 feet away from him. "I'll stop bothering you when you stop destroying the city, retard!"
"Hey!" they both turned to Peter, pausing their bickering for a moment "Care to explain why a 9 foot tall man is running around in a suit of armor, destroying the city?" he asked, stepping off the ledge.
"Who are you, leather man? Came to get your head smashed in by the Rhino?" The armored buffoon said with a laugh, before getting a glob of webbing in his mouth. It'd take him a minute to pry it out.
"I was talking to you, lady. Care to explain why this guy is running around town, leveling everything in his path?" He asked, walking closer to her. "How the hell should I know? I just saw him running around downtown, throwing cars everywhere and laughing about it. '' She said, pointing at the man still struggling to pull the strands of web from his mouth. "I spent the last 20 minutes trying to stop him, but the suit is just too much. I can't do anything to him. And he just rips my webs off, or doesn't even notice them." So, she's trying to stop him. "Alright. Let's work this doofus over. I need to ask you some questions." He said.
Turning her head to him, she inclined it to the left a little. "What kinds of questions? I'm not exactly looking to get interviewed"
"Don't worry, I'm not with the press. Just some simple one's, I'll be curt." He reassured her, and redirected his gaze to the giant. He has just finished fishing out the web from his mouth. "Alright, Spider-Woman, eyes forward. We'll finish our talk after we deal with this idiot." he tapped her on the back of her right shoulder, prompting her to face the Rhino as well.
"...Okay?" she said.
'I don't think my gun will penetrate his armor, and I don't want to waste bullets trying to hit his mouth, I only have 8 right now. And she said she couldn't do anything to him either. The suit should have openings on the joints, so if I could damage them, then his armor will become a handicap.'
Spider-Man surged forward, running right at the Rhino. The giant grinned, and started running as well. Just before both made contact, Spider-Man dropped down and slid between the idiot's legs, spun from his back to his stomach and shot a line of web at the giant's back. The giant tried to stop, but the momentum carried him another 10 feet forward, just enough time for Spider-Man to sling himself on his back.
Just as the Rhino stopped, he tried to pull his hand over his shoulder with the goal of grabbing the Spider.
Spider-Woman stopped the attempt. She shot two lines of web at the suit's hands and pulled. The Rhino struggled, forcing the concrete under Spider-Woman's feet to crack a little, but she didn't budge. The time offered was enough for Peter to find a small opening in the neck joint, he put his right hand inside, and ripped off the armored plate . Just as Spider-Woman was about to lose the tug of war, he jammed his hand between the machinery, and ripped everything not sturdy enough to resist his strength out, and jumped off the suit's back, landing 12 feet away. She took that as a sign that she could let go, and she did.
The inertia made the Rhino lose his footing, forcing him to stumble back. Spider-Man used this moment to finish the maneuver, shooting two strings of web at the man's head, and pulling as hard as he could. His goal was to force the man to fall, but his earlier escapade with pulling out pieces of the suit did more than he anticipated.
The helmet came off, exposing the head of a gruff, bald man underneath. "Fuck!" Was the only thing the man said before Spider-Woman caught on, and with impressive speed zipped to the man, punching him right on the chin. He fell like a stone, kicking up a small cloud of dust. He wasn't waking up anytime soon.
They both stood there, panting for a few seconds, their eyes focused on the unconscious man on the ground, before Spider-Woman broke the silence. "That was easier than last time. Thanks for the help...uh, what's your name?" she asked, reminding him that he hasn't introduced himself yet. "Call me Spider-Man. And no problem" He said, approaching the fallen brute. Flipping him over he started examining the suit. It was mostly seamless, except a small opening on the left side of the rib cage armor, just under the arm. He put his finger inside, inspecting the inside of the hole. There was a small moving object inside, he pressed on it, and the suit opened up. The man was in a tight gray bodysuit, with a strange hexagonal pattern embedded into the fabric. "Spider-Man? Very original."
"I didn't know you existed until today, so I didn't copy you, if that's what you're implying." He picked him up by the scruff of his collar and started dragging him toward the edge of the roof. Then a sudden question made him stop "What are you doing?" He turned his gaze towards the other Spider. She stood with her hands on her hips, he couldn't see her face, though he'd bet a dollar she was frowning. "I'm going to get some info from him. We need to know why he started trashing the city all of a sudden. I also want to know where he got the suit." he said, before starting to drag him again. Spider-Woman didn't like his answer "And you're dragging him to the edge for...?"
Peter let out a sigh.
"Surely you don't think he'll talk if we just ask him, right? I'm just going to web him up on the wall, let gravity do the persuasion. If that doesn't work, I'll punch out a couple of his teeth. The usual." She wasn't happy with that either. Stalking over to him with an aggressive gait, she grabbed his arm, making him let go off the man's neck. Rhino's face smashed against the floor with a meaty thud. "You are not going to torture him for info, got that?" He yanked his hand away from her grip, surprising her a bit with his strength. "...Okay. What do you propose? How do we get 'info' from him, huh?" A moment later she uttered the most idiotic thing she probably could "We won't be getting info from him. We'll just leave him to the cops, and then they will get the info from him." He looked up at the night sky and let out a hoarse sigh. 'Is this girl retarded?'
"Ok. And then what?" He looked back down at her, waiting for another sensational thought to be vocalized. "And then we get the info from them, without torturing anyone." He walked past her and sat down on the ledge barrier, placing his hands on either side of him. "Why would the cops give us info? Aren't you on their wanted list for killing that kid?" As soon as he mentioned that she tensed up.
"I didn't kill him! How many times do I have to prove it for you people to understand!? Ugh!" She turned around and gripped her head with both hands. Muttering something under her breath, he couldn't make out what exactly, she sounded angry though. "Wait wait wait, I'm sorry." He said hurriedly, standing up simultaneously.
"The article I read on the internet said you killed some kid. I don't really know what happened."
Her hands fell from her head and she looked at him, letting out an exhausted sigh. "...An article on the internet? And you believed that, no questions asked?" She sounded a bit...sad? Or maybe just slightly annoyed. " I'm really new to, uh...this. I've been here less than a day. I doubted you actually did it, my first thought was that you got framed or something similar. I'm guessing my suspicion was right?" he asked.
"...Yeah. I wasn't really framed, but it's more complicated than that."
They both stayed silent for a few seconds, before Spider-Woman let out another sigh and said "Let's dump him with the cops. I'll answer the questions you wanted to ask after that."
'Alright. I can't argue with her too much, I need her to give me info on Captain America' he thought.
She approached the man lying on his face, webbed him up, attached a line of web to the cocoon and swung away, leaving Peter sitting alone on the ledge. He didn't try to follow her, expecting her to come back in a minute. Either way he'd be halfway to the cordon before she'd already start swinging back. 'I need to learn how to swing like her. I'll have to measure how far I can shoot my webs.'
She came back just as he finished his thought, landing just in front of him with a slight bend of her knees. "Why are you just sitting here?" she said. He stood up. "I was just waiting for you. I can't really swing like you, so I'd just waste time getting there. Now that you're back, we can talk."
She suddenly came up to his right side, wrapped an arm around his waist and warned him to "Hold on".
"What are you doing?" he asked, reluctantly wrapping his arm around her right shoulder. "I don't wanna talk here, I'm gonna find a better spot." Before he could respond she made a 30 foot leap into the air, bringing him with her. Releasing a line of web that attached to a nearby building, she gripped it and let them fall. They flew in an arc, at a speed of 60 miles per hour at least, and at the end she let the web go. The adrenaline Peter felt from just one swing was insane. He'd been on a rollercoaster before, however this was somethin else. They flew through the air for a second, weightlessness enveloped him for what felt like a solid minute.
He'd never felt anything like this before. Even while being at the mercy of some woman he met 20 minutes ago, he felt free.
The second swing was even faster, the arc of it twice as big as the first. It didn't pump his adrenaline as high, though the feeling was still as exhilarating. But the time in freefall was his favorite. The feeling of weightlessness couldn't be replaced by anything.
After three more swings they landed on the roof of the highest building in a 5 block radius. She let him go, and as soon as she did he realized he was holding his breath. He let out a big breath, and crouched in a squat, with his arms on his legs and his head looking down at the ground, panting slightly. She took a step back from him. "So, you wanted to ask me some questions?" she asked, sounding a little worried. "...Yeah. Just let me" - he took a deep breath in - "...let me catch my breath a little."
"Ok...So while you're, um, recovering, I just wanna ask - what's with the getup?"
He turned his head to her, took a couple more breaths, and said. "What? I don't see anything wrong with it. And you're not someone to give out fashion advice, you know?"
"Hey, my suit is an icon. People recognize me when they see me, you just look like a hobo in a mask" she huffed.
"I'm not aiming to be recognized. The mask isn't to sell an image, it's to not let people recognize me."
"Yeah. OK. But what's with the trench coat? Are you like a private detective, or something?"
He stood up straight. "No. I'm not a private detective, I don't have a job at all. Now, you are going to answer a couple questions, just as we agreed."
"Okay. Ask away." she said, passing by him and sitting on some metal box near the entrance to the roof.
"Do you know any way I can reach Captain America? I've seen a couple photographs of you together. You seemed well acquainted"
"Cap? What do you need him for?"
"Let's just say he faced a similar...hurdle, as me. I just need to find out what he knows."
"Similar hurdle? Were you frozen for 80 years?" she asked, a bit of suspicion in her voice.
'Frozen? That wasn't in the book. It just said he disappeared.'
"Something like that. I wasn't frozen, at least I don't think so." He said, approaching her and sitting on a box to her left.
"I don't really know how to explain this. Just yesterday it was 1934. I went to sleep at my Aunt's house, and the next thing I know I woke up here - just a couple hours ago, actually - on some random roof."
"So, you're telling me you're some guy from 1934, who also has Spider powers? And you just spawned in randomly?" It didn't sound like she believed him
"I'm going to assume 'spawned in' means appeared, right?" She nodded in response. "Then, yes. I know it sounds insane. And I can't prove I'm not lying, but please, believe me. Captain America is my only real lead, and you are the only one I know of that can lead me to him." He turned his head to look at her. "Please. You are my only chance."
Their dialogue paused for a second. Peter, waiting anxiously for her to respond, felt like it has been 5 minutes.
"Okay. I'll see if I can set up a meeting with him." she said. "But if I find out you duped me, I'll web you to the spire of the Empire State Building, are we clear?" Her attempt to sound threatening wasn't very convincing, sounding more like a joke than a threat.
"Crystal. Don't worry, I didn't lie." he reassured her. "Also. You webbing me to a skyscraper is OK, but me webbing a guy to a wall of a 5 story parking lot is not? Seems unfair, don't you think?" he said, the smirk audible in his voice.
"Shut up" she said with a chuckle.
A/N: Hey guys. This is my first time writing anything, so criticism and advice would be very welcome. I decided to write this story on a whim. As some of you have guessed, it's inspired by Through the Looking Glass by vendetta543. I don't really have a concrete plan for this story, apart from the ending and character goalposts. This chapter is named after the reveal track from Crysis 3 - New York 2.0.
Thank you for reading.