A/N: I swear I write slower than George R.R. Martin but I'm back with another chapter. I did better this time. I didn't take a year to update. Please enjoy though! (And review)

'Knock them out or kill them!' she says! 'Simple' she says! Peter yelled in his thoughts as he swung under one of the sweeping, mutated assassin's wings. The mutant man let out a guttural howl as it dove down to grab him. Peter's precognitive Spider-Sense rattled his brain, blurring his vision slightly. Great. Warn me about danger, but do it so violently, my visual cortex can't process what's happening. Genius. Peter thought as the vibrations faded and his vision cleared up. The assassin swooped towards him and Peter braced himself as the mutant barreled into his chest and quickly descended down to ground-level. Peter's head rumbled again and he knew already why. The ground was getting closer to him.

His hands went out from his body and he sprayed out webs onto buildings parallel to each other, stopping their fall abruptly. The mutant cried out as they then rebounded back up into the air. This time, Peter went on the offensive. He had been holding back his punches for their health's sake before. Now that he knew what kind of monstrosities he was dealing with now, he could let loose a bit, but he had to gauge how much little by little. He trusted that the mutant wouldn't just lay around and let him hit him however.

Peter began to throw a barrage of punches at the assassin, who despite his monstrous form, hadn't forgot his training. He parried and countered easily with Peter's rumbling Spider-Sense and agility only barely keeping him from being dealt a fatal blow. Freefalling in the air only made things more complicated. Peter had to focus on dodging attacks as well as unleashing his own. In the back of his mind, he wondered how Felicia was faring against the other assassin. The last he had saw of her, she and her assailant were trading blows back and forth with the Cat nimbly avoiding the monster in front of her. Peter gritted his teeth.

The mutant assassin screeched into his ear and Peter punched him twice in quick succession and then locked his head in his arms. The monster thrashed under the pressure of Peter's headlock and as they descended back towards the ground, Peter tightened his grip. He had to get to Felicia's aid and he wouldn't be able to do it with this monster clawing at him. Peter continued to squeeze the assassin's neck until finally he felt his struggling cease. He wasn't dead, Peter had made sure that he hadn't snapped his neck. He wasn't waking up anytime soon, though. Peter tossed the unconscious assassin into the side of a building and wrapped him in a thick layer of webbing. Incapacitated, he was no longer a threat...at least Peter hoped so. Now all he had to do was find Felicia.

It wasn't hard. Peter followed the sounds of yelling and grunts coming from the roof of the building and swung upward. Felicia was battling evenly with the assassin, her quickness and agility keeping him at bay. Peter noticed that the closer the assassin got to her, the more apt he was to lose his footing or have some other odd calamity befall him. As Felicia continued to fight against the mutant, scoring claw slashes across his face, Peter's mind flashed back to their first meeting at Gravesend Bay. There, Felicia had avoided getting shot even at point blank range with the bullets appearing to just steer away from her. It was certainly odd...

"Hey! Webhead! A little help?!" Felicia screamed. Peter snapped out of his thoughts and saw that the assassin had finally pinned Felicia down on the ground. His mouth was ajar, his fangs dripping with saliva. Felicia groaned at the smell of his breath. Peter slung himself forward and sprayed a web-line onto the back of the assassin's head. As he flipped forward, the monster flew off of Felicia and Peter slammed him through the roof of the building. The assassin plummeted through several stories from Peter could hear from the commotion until he finally stopped. Tentatively, Peter and Felicia gazed into the hole and saw the last assassin flattened against a printer. Peter let out a sigh off relief.

"Glad that's over..." Peter said. Felicia nodded and folded her arms.

"So what're you going to do with the two circus freak ninjas?" she asked. Peter shrugged.

"Circus freak ninjas? They looked more like Giant demonic ninja Big Birds to me." Peter said. When Felicia raised her eyebrow, Peter realized he had failed to be funny. More serious now, Peter rested his hand on his chin, rubbing the red mask of his costume intently. A bright idea popped into his head and he smiled under his mask. "We leave them to the police." Peter said. Felicia's face twisted in confusion.

"The police? The New York Police Department? Are you stupid?" Felicia hissed. Peter decided internally that he preferred Felicia's purr to her hiss. He waved his hands to silence her but she ignored him and continued. "When those two wake up, they'll just transform and slaughter everyone at the precinct! Did you think about that?" she said. Peter rubbed his temples.

"Look...I just need time to find out who sent these assassins to kill us. Nobody else is going to die because of those two, I promise you that." Peter said. Felicia didn't look at all convinced and merely shook her head. Peter sighed inwardly. He wanted to convince her further of his plan's inability to fail. He wanted to tell her that his godfather was the director of a government agency that dealt with superhuman issues such as these and by the time the news crews had reported the arrest of two mutants, Peter's godfather would've already stole them away. He remembered the incident with Connors months prior and how Fury had come. He just prayed that he would have the same peculiar sense of timing that he had had then. But that was information Felicia would have to earn. She knew too much about the details of his life as it was. "Just trust me. It'll work. I just want to find out who hired them." Peter was relieved when Felicia waved her hand.

"Fine, whatever. Do what you want, superhero." Felicia said. Peter nodded and grabbed the assassin inside of the building, wrapping him in a thick coating of webbing and swinging down to where his twin was. Peter checked both of them and punched them both again, ensuring that they'd be out for a long time. Peter hoped he hadn't punched them too hard. With a quick leap, Peter propelled himself back onto the roof, landing perfectly in front of Felicia. The young woman was staring out over the skyline, her platinum blonde hair blowing in the wind. For a brief moment, Peter stayed where he was and let her think. After nearly half a minute, Peter stepped forward.

"Felicia..." he said softly. Felicia turned around and Peter thought he saw a tear streaming down past her domino mask and onto her chin. Peter frowned. He hoped that he hadn't caused her tears. Peter began to move toward her, but her gaze stopped him before her words did.

"I know who they are." she said. More tears rolled down her face as she continued. "They were hired by the Hand...the same people that killed my father." Peter froze and stared forward. For the first time since he met her, Peter glimpsed what lay underneath the flirtatious and sarcastic facade; a young woman that had been struck with the same pain that Peter himself had felt. He felt even more connected to her now and it scared him. At this moment, he felt even closer to her than Mary Jane.

"How do you know?" Peter forced himself to ask. Felicia shook her head.

"When I fought the twin, I saw a faint brand on his shoulder. It was Japanese kanji for 'hand'. I saw the same mark on the man that killed my father." Felicia said.

"But...why would assassins target your father?" Peter asked. The same reason your parents were targeted. a voice replied in Peter's head. Felicia shrugged then hung her head.

"He knew too much, particularly about Fisk..." she said.

"Fisk? Fisk who?" Peter asked.

"Wilson Fisk, the head of Fisk Industries. My father discovered a paper trail of Fisk's illegal actions. He hadn't been very careful in his early career. His 'business ventures' were virtually intertwined with police reports of strange import being reported. Eventually, Fisk put every police officer he could in his pocket to basically run the city. As he gained wealth, he amassed friends. Politicians, even reporters. My father was the only one with more than enough evidence to send him to prison for the rest of his life and hopefully to Hell for the shit he's done."

"But someone found out?" Peter said. Felicia nodded.

"And ratted to Fisk. My father was open with me and told me that I had to be prepared for him to not come home one day. He left all of his money to me and he said that he sent all the evidence he had collected to someone but wouldn't tell me their name. I was ten years old and for the next five years, I attended school and trained and then after that, I tracked Fisk's operations for two years around the country." Peter was stunned and speechless. Felicia had been dedicated to this life for so long and her quest for vengeance had brought in no results. Her father's killer was still out there and virtually untouchable from the sound of it. Peter scratched his head.

"Do you have any way to take him down?" Peter asked. Felicia's face darkened.

"I know where his office is and I know his fat ass barely ever leaves. If my goal was to simply kill him, it'd be done." she then sighed. "But my father wanted more than that. He wanted the truth about this drug-smuggling crime boss to come out. He wanted the people that Fisk was in league with to take the fall as well. He wanted Fisk's reputation to be shattered and his money gone. He wanted true justice." Felicia said, wiping her face free of tears. "So I will carry out his dream." Peter nodded and then began to pace. There had to be someone as unafraid of the Kingpin as he and Felicia were. Someone had to be also seeking to take him down. Peter looked up as a lightbulb went off in his head.

"Do you know if any news publication employees or owners had been bought off by Fisk?" he asked. Felicia thought for a brief moment and then shook her head.

"Just about all of them had someone paid by Fisk in the higher level...except the Daily Bugle." she replied. Her eyes then narrowed. "Why? Do you have another plan?" she asked. Peter nodded.

"I do but just leave it to me. Hopefully by tomorrow, I'll have what we need. I'll help you take down, Fisk. I promise." Peter said. Felicia eyed him. Her emerald green eyes shining in the night and causing Peter's heart to flutter. He inwardly slapped himself out of it and waited for Felicia's response. Reluctantly, Felicia nodded.

"Fine..." she relented. "I'll trust you on this one, Mr. Webs." she then walked over to Peter and grabbed him in her arms, hugging tightly before purring. "Thank you so much. I'll figure out a way to pay you back." she smirked and switched away, Peter fighting to keep himself calm as Black Cat somersaulted from the top of the building. Peter looked down at the pressure in his pants and let out an exasperated sigh.

Damn teenage hormones...

-/-

Meanwhile, at the Osborn Residence...

Harry Osborn entered the illustrious brick mansion that was his father's home, staggering after a drunken night at a party. He was full of cheap liquor. Amsterdam, Grey Goose and a couple shots of rum and Pepsi all made him feel lighter than a feather and made his heart filled with joy. And the blowjob in the club bathroom wasn't too bad either, Harry reflected. The ride home had been one filled with laughter. One of Harry's friends had done the honors of driving him home. When Harry stumbled out of the black Camaro, his friend then drove off. Harry giggled at the thought of his car being technically stolen. He'd have to beat Eddie Brock's ass the next time he saw him.

But in his drunk mind, nothing really mattered to him. Winter Break was closing in and he had no Finals for the week. With glee, he had decided to come home and spend Christmas with his father for the first time since he had been at college. Whether his father was excited and happy to see him was a different matter, entirely. Harry could never tell when his father was happy and inside, he knew that his father blamed him for the death of his mother. Harry was sorry often...sorry that his birth had caused the death of his mother.

Despite that, Harry's father had always saw him as a blessing in disguise, affording him the best education that he could until Harry himself fucked that all up after getting expelled from private school...thrice. After that, Harry ended up at Midtown High for his senior year...and that's when he met Peter.

Harry giggled again as he stumbled up the steps, grabbing onto the wooden railing and hoping to keep the contents of his intestines inside his body at least until he had made it to the bathroom. He remembered Peter fondly, the little brother that he almost wished he had. Harry stopped as he also remembered nearly killing him when he hit him with his Camaro, the one that wasn't parked outside and instead, was probably getting driven all around New York. Harry rubbed his head as he finally made it to the top of the steps. The bathroom was in sight.

For Harry, the simple walk to the bathroom seemed to be like crossing the GW Bridge with weights tied to his ankles. He trudged forward, the door within sight. A burp rose in his throat and Harry could taste the acids of his stomach in the burp and tried to work his way quicker to the bathroom. Finally, Harry pushed the door open and fell to his knees in front of the sink and crawled to the toilet. He wretched and gagged until his relief came. When he was finished spilling the contents of his stomach into the toilet, Harry wiped his mouth and laid back. As he started to descend into unconsciousness, he thought he heard a voice speaking in the house. It sounded warped, distorted and frenzied.

It said, "Parker...kill Parker."

New Midtown High School, Next Day

Peter raced through the halls, ducking and dodging everyone that stood in his way, his spider-sense causing his head to vibrate at every obstacle. He checked his phone and gasped. He only had another minute before the bell would ring and he needed to get up to the third floor. Peter ran to the stairwell at the end of the hallway and found it to be empty. With a leap of joy, Peter was up two flights of steps and in another, less enthusiastic and careful bound, he was on the third floor. Now, he had to run down the hallway.

When Peter had made it to Biology, Mr. Warren was in the process of closing his door. Peter squeezed the quickly closing door with more agility than he felt he had ever used as Spider-Man and glanced at Mr. Warren who raised his eyebrow and looked as if he was about to say something, but changed his mind. Peter smirked. He had just narrowly avoided a tardy. Feeling smug, Peter strutted to his seat and sat down placing his bags to his side. His face fell when he turned to his right and saw that Mary Jane wasn't in her seat...but Felicia was. The blonde young woman waved at him with manicured fingers and Peter looked around the room, searching desperate for his girlfriend.

"She's not here." Felicia purred softly. "Not yet, anyway." Peter gawked at her. He felt like his heart was about to climb out of his mouth.

"Are you frickin' crazy? That's MJ's seat. Her seat. She will fucking kill you if she sees you sitting here." Peter whispered frantically. Felicia scoffed.

"Oh, please. I've been training in martial arts since I was a little girl and we also happened to fight a pair of mutant assassins last night. She doesn't scare me." Felicia flipped her hair. "Besides, it's just a seat." Peter's head started to vibrate. He wondered if it was a sign that MJ was on her way or the aneurysm that Felicia was causing him.

"It's a seat next to her boyfriend. Felicia, believe me. I've seen you fight. I've fought a giant lizard in the old school gym and even I'm scared of what she'll do to you. Just move, please, before she-" Peter's breath fell short as the door to the classroom opened and he spotted the bright red highlights against black that made up MJ's hair. Her hazel eyes darted directly to Felicia and Peter. After she had received her tardy slip from Mr. Warren, Mary Jane was in front of Felicia. Her glare had the virulent burn of hydrochloric acid.

"If you wouldn't mind moving your seat, please?" MJ asked calmly. Peter got even more afraid. He had never seen MJ angry yet calm. Felicia chuckled softly and rolled her eyes, but moved from her seat. To Peter's horror, she sat to the empty seat on Peter's left. As the two girls sat down, their eye contact never broke. If looks could kill, Peter would've been collateral. He dared not look in either direction so looked forward at the board or down at his books.

When he finally did venture to turn his head towards his girlfriend, he could see that she was fuming. Peter was distraught but as the bell sounded for the class to end, he breathed a soft sigh of relief. He wouldn't have to see Felicia until lunch, he hoped. As the people began to rush out of class, Peter rose to his feet and walked to the front with MJ. When he did, Felicia cut in front of them, squeezing between two desks. When she came by, she brushed past Peter like a cat. Peter could smell the rich aroma of cherries and cinnamon on her hair and clothes and almost floated to the sky with pleasure. MJ's nails dug into the palm of his hand and MJ's hazel eyes followed Felicia as she sauntered out of the room.

"I'm going to fucking kill that bitch."

-/-

Lunch at Old Midtown used to fill Peter's heart with dread but ever since the rebuild and increased budget, New Midtown was able to afford actual food and not the beige slop that was served in the old days. It was still a far cry from Aunt Mae's home-cooked meals, but Peter could eat it and not feel like he had started a nuclear war in his intestines. Normally around this time, he and MJ would've been outside on the bleachers making out and teasing, but his girlfriend was far from in the mood. Felicia's antics earlier in the day had rendered MJ a walking bomb. Peter didn't even want to talk to her out of fear that she would snap on him.

While MJ was still in line, Peter looked for a seat for them. He found a quiet, secluded spot in the corner where he hoped they wouldn't disturbed. Before had even settled himself in the seat, did he smell the cherry and cinnamon scent. He looked up and his jaw dropped. It was Felicia.

"What the actual f...are you crazy?" Peter said. Felicia giggled.

"What? Is the Little Red Riding Hoodrat here?" she asked. Peter frowned.

"Alright, enough is enough." he said as he stood up. "I agreed to help you get evidence against the Kingpin as Spider-Man but you're overstepping boundaries in my personal life. Mary Jane is my girlfriend and if you don't stop slinking around, she's going to get suspicious and I'd like to keep our interactions a secret. So can you-what?" Peter saw that Felicia was now pointing behind him. Quickly, he turned around and saw Mary Jane standing behind him. Peter searched quickly through the words he had chosen and his heart stopped. Before he could ask how much she had heard, MJ turned from them and stormed away. Peter turned back towards Felicia and the irreproachable expression on her face made him nauseous.

"Oops." Felicia said with a shrug. She then walked away, leaving Peter alone in the corner. He sat down and sighed, rubbing his face.

Well, shit...

-/-

Daily Bugle, hours later

"Who the hell let this kid in?" Jameson called as Peter walked up to his office. After school, Peter had searched desperately for MJ but hadn't seen her. He had no clue where she was or if she had even stayed in school after the incident in the cafeteria. Even though he was absolutely livid at Felicia for hurting his girlfriend, Peter had made her a promise. He had to keep his word.

"I've new pictures of Spider-Man." Peter said as he came forward. Jameson raised his hand.

"Spider-what? No, no, no...around this office, he is called the 'New York's Masked Menace'." Jameson said with a smirk as he lit another cigar. Peter coughed and waved smoke from his face.

"Don't you think that title is a bit too long?" Peter said. Jameson let out a contemptuous laugh.

"Ha, kid, you're here to deliver pictures of New York's Masked Menace and nothing more." he then held out his hand. "Let's see what you've got." Peter reluctantly dug into his bag and pulled out his freshly printed photos. Taking pictures of himself without MJ had been difficult and the pictures weren't nearly as clear as they were before. He had just barely missed the timing on his swing and he looked like a red and blue blur in some of them. Peter figured that if they weren't as clear, they wouldn't look staged. Jameson had other questions. "How in the hell did you get this angle, kid? What's your name again?" he asked.

"Parker." Peter said. Jameson nodded.

"Right, right. From Brooklyn." Peter narrowed his eyes.

"Queens."

"Yeah, whatever. How'd you get this angle?" Jameson said, pointing to the picture where Peter had zoomed past the camera he placed on a flagpole above him as he swung. Peter hadn't exactly thought of an explanation for any angles.

"I, uh, was on the roof. Sight seeing. Heard the whooshing of Spider...New York's Masked Menace and decided it'd be a good time to get some shots." Peter said. Jameson didn't even seem to be paying him any attention. He seemed more intent on trying to decide picture he'd put on the front page.

"These are good. Looks like you caught him fleeing from a crime scene." Jameson grinned diabolically.

"But he looked like he was just going on a casual sw-" Peter tried to interject.

"Go give this to Ms. Brant." Jameson said, handing Peter a check and shooing him away as he flicked through each and every picture. Peter sighed and then smiled as he approached Ms. Brant. He had remembered he request from earlier and had made sure to get a very clear shot of himself for her. When he approached and pulled out the picture, Betty nearly jumped out of her skin with glee.

"Oh my God." she whispered, turning her brown gaze onto Peter. "I didn't think you'd actually be able to get another shot of him, let alone something this clear and deliberate..." she said. Peter smiled.

"Guess I caught him on a good day. Glad you like it. I wasn't sure how long he'd stay still." Peter said. Betty smiled and put the picture into her bag.

"Well, Mr. Parker...this earns you a $50 bonus." Betty said. Peter looked apprehensive.

"You can do that?" he asked. "Won't you get in trouble or something?" Betty shrugged.

"What Jonah doesn't know won't hurt him or me." she said simply before handing Peter his check. As Peter took it, a man dressed in black with slicked back brown hair and goatee rushed forward. Betty reached out to grab him, but he jogged into Jameson's office. Immediately, Jameson erupted. Betty gave Peter an apologetic look and went over to Jameson's office. Peter felt an overwhelming urge to eavesdrop and followed Ms. Brant slowly until he was within earshot. Even through the glass door, Jameson was loud enough for the first three cubicles to hear him.

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN, URICH! I'M NOT PRINTING ANY OF YOUR HALF-ASSED FINDINGS!" Jameson squalled. From what Peter could see, the man in black was desperately pleasing his case but Jameson rose up and yelled again. "GET OUT! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANYTHING ABOUT THIS 'KINGPIN' UNTIL YOU'VE GOT SOLID EVIDENCE!" With that, the man in black walked out, his head shaking and his face red. He stormed past Peter and threw a folder onto his desk and went straight to the elevator. Everybody in the office settled back down and went back to their desks. Peter watched and waited and then went over to where the man's desk was. Cautiously, he opened the folder on top and saw a picture. A man and two cloaked figures were walking into a building that said "Fisk Industries". Peter recognized the two cloaked figures instantly.

It was the twin assassins.

Hell's Kitchen, New York, hours later

Ben Urich stood out on his apartment balcony with a lit cigarette in his hand, blowing smoke out into the frigid winter weather of New York. Today at the Bugle had nearly broken him, but he refused to give up now. Not when he was so hot on the Kingpin's trail. Last night, he had scouted the building where a man named Wilson Fisk was suspected to be working out of and he had made a brilliant discovery. Three men had entered the building and he recognized the lead man as a Japanese criminal named Azuma Gōda, a former Yakuza underling who served a brief stint in jail in place of his leader. When Urich zoomed in on the man, he was able to make out a Japanese character on his jacket that read "hand". After research into ancient Japanese books, he discovered what it actually meant.

Ben turned to go inside and shut the door to his balcony, but he felt a presence behind him. He turned around and saw a masked figure dressed in red and blue balancing on the railing of his balcony. It was "New York's Masked Menace". Spider-Man. Why he was here was another question. Before he could answer, Spider-Man threw a folder in front of Ben's feet. With a quick glance down, he realized that it was the same one that he had left at the Bugle in his rage. He looked at Spider-Man who only sat still and looked at him.

"May I ask why, exactly, you are here? At my house?" Ben said calmly.

"I'm here to talk." the vigilante said in a gruff voice that sounded more like a teenager's attempt to sound older. Ben Urich took another smoke and blew out.

"First, I want to know how you got that." he said coolly, pointing down at the folder. Spider-Man paused before he finally spoke up. Was he deciding how much he would tell or creating a lie? Ben would see.

"I snuck in after the building was closed down to do some snooping. I heard from a little bird that Kingpin or Fisk has nearly everyone in New York in his pocket. Everyone except the Daily Bugle. I figured that at least one of you had the balls to be trying to take him down." the Spider said. Ben nodded. He believed the story and what the Spider-Man spoke was true. He even knew who Urich suspected the Kingpin was.

"Are you confirming that the Kingpin is actually Wilson Fisk?" Urich asked. Spider-Man still didn't move.

"No, but I was hoping that you could help me. Trade notes." he replied. Urich nodded. Then he smiled.

"I take it you read The Daily Bugle?" he asked. Spider-Man remained still before he shrugged.

"I like the editorials...sometimes the front page calling me a 'Masked Menace' gets my attention. Why?"

"How would you like to have irrevocable proof that you are, in fact, not a menace to society?" Ben said after another puff of smoke.

"You have a plan?" Spider-Man asked. Ben Urich nodded.

"I do. I don't think you're a menace. It's pretty clear to everyone that all you're doing is trying to help. You don't ask for a monetary reward. You just help. Your payment is that people are safe. You're kind of a humanitarian. I think you're doing a good job...but in order for this to work, I have to trust you and you have to trust me." Ben said. Spider-Man stared forward, his glassy gaze reflecting the light on the lamp stand.

"Alright. I have one condition." Spider-Man said.

"Which is?"

"You don't ask about anything concerning my identity or personal life. This is for the safety of New York not an interview." Ben nodded.

"I understand." he said.

"So, we have a deal?" Spider-Man asked. Ben smiled and beckoned for Spider-Man enter.

"Come in." Ben said as he picked up the folder and sifted through it. Spider-Man sat across from him and Urich put on his glasses. "We have a lot to discuss."

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