CHAPTER 7: UPTOWN FUNK YOU UP

***GWEN***

Upon reaching the apartment where I apparently lived before - the doorman recognizes me, and asks me where I've been - the first thing I want to do is make cocoa. I can't really explain it - it's just a very powerful urge.

"Maybe you should look in your room or something?" Tadashi asks. "It's all right, Gwen. I'll keep an eye on the kettle for you."

"It's never gonna boil if you do that, you know," Clint chuckles.

I sigh heavily, then move on down the hall. I can't even remember which of the closed doors leads to my room, other than the fact that my room is somewhere on the left-hand side.

"Any particular reason why you wanna make cocoa?" Skye asks as she follows me down the hall.

I try one door, but reject that room because the decorations are so obviously those of my brother Howard. So many video game posters - and they're exactly the same ones he has in San Castiel, eerily enough.

"Maybe you've got an alien parasite that thrives on cocoa?" Skye asks. She slaps the back of my head, hard.

"Ouch!"

"Dammit, it's not the tick." Skye laughs sheepishly. "Sorry, but I've been waitin' for a long time to do that reference."

"You do movie references too?" I groan. "No wonder you're so attracted to Peter. Birds of a feather flock together."

"I'm not attracted to Peter," Skye says. "That's just a character. Although I do like him and all the amazing Spider-Man stuff he's done." She chuckles at her own joke, spoiling another otherwise casual reference. "Believe me, you don't gotta worry about me tryin' to horn in on your territory."

"Peter's not my 'territory,'" I say. "I don't own him." I try another door - this one ends up being a linen closet. The third door finally leads me to my room. Just like Howard's room, mine is nearly identical in appearance to the one I know on the West Coast. The layout is different, of course, but just about every detail is something I have in my room in San Castiel.

"Of course not," Skye says, hanging out in the doorway. She lapses into awkward silence for a few seconds before finally asking, "So, are you remembering anything?"

"No," I say. "And you're not helping me concentrate here."

"Oh, sorry." Skye twiddles her thumbs as she leans against the doorjamb. "Should I leave? I'm, uh, kinda supposed to keep an eye on you. In case you get any memories back with, uh, catastrophic effects."

I glower at Skye. "If the sheer force of my recovered memories gives me a brain aneurysm, I'll be sure to scream for help."

"Oh, trust me, if you're gonna get a brain aneurysm, you want someone close by to help you out," Skye says. "Like, within touching distance."

I turn away from Skye and look out the window for a few seconds, familiarizing myself with the skyline view. "You'll probably be better off stayin' out of my personal space."

"By that, do you mean your own private bubble, or this whole room?" Skye asks, spreading her arms.

I sit in a blue armchair by the window, my head in my hands. I think about something I saw on the drive from the airport - a piece of graffiti on the side of the road bearing the familiar Spider-Man logo. They had that in the movies, and I guess in this alternate world where Spider-Man was real, they had it too.

But it wasn't the Spider-Man symbol that I really noticed. It was what was next to the symbol - a simple, if grammatically messed-up, sentence written in blue spray paint. It said, "COME BACK SPIDEY WE NEED YOU."

Sure, everything outside the window looks normal. It doesn't seem as if Spidey's absence has caused the city to devolve into a war zone or anything. But that's just what I'm seeing on the surface. Spider-Man has always been known for not only taking on Big Bad supervillains and reprehensible criminals, but also for smaller issues. Literal kid stuff.

For instance, one of my favorite scenes in The Amazing Spider-Man 2 (one which, unfortunately, Coulson did not show us today) has Spidey stopping to save a little kid and his wind-turbine science project from the bully boys who want nothing more than to break them both. Not only does he scare away the bullies, but he also uses his webline to do some emergency rapid repair for the turbine, and then, for maximum heartwarming factor, he walks the kid home.

(Obviously, I'm not remembering this like I was there - because if the alternate version of the movie is the actual record of events, I wasn't.)

If Peter really belongs in this world as Spider-Man, I really hope he can return to it soon enough. Being a superhero must have been a big part of his life. I can't imagine he wouldn't return to that, knowing the good he does in the world.

I look up and see Skye still standing in the doorway. "Seriously, if you want me to leave, I'll leave," she says.

"No, that's okay," I say. "Um, so Peter and the others are supposed to meet us here later, right?"

"Yeah, so we can just do a quick hop over to Stark Tower from here," Skye says. "That's our next stop, in case you didn't know."

"Okay." Since Peter's house is supposed to be in Queens, I'm guessing he'll probably pass by the same graffiti I saw along the way. Hopefully, he'll see it and get the message too.

I sit in the chair a little bit longer. When I'd been talking with Peter earlier on the plane, I told him I remembered a time when he came into my room at night, all cut up from a fight. He'd made a joke about "of course you'd remember that," probably alluding to the fact that at the time, he was half-naked.

Another memory connected to that one is starting to surface. This event took place before I'd started tending to Peter's Lizard-induced slashes - at least, so I think, based on the fact that he was fully dressed at the time. I remember Peter making a "you should see the other guy" joke, then my dad calling down the hall, asking me if I wanted cocoa.

"Oh," I whisper to myself. "That explains it."

"What explains what?" Skye asks. She tilts her head and looks down the hall. "Sounds like the cocoa's ready. You wanna come and get it?"

I rise from the chair, stretch my arms, then follow Skye. "That's why I wanted cocoa," I say. "Because my dad was offering me some."

"In a memory?" Skye asks.

"Yeah." I reach the kitchen, where Tadashi is pouring mugs of cocoa for everyone. "But I didn't get a complete picture."

"Maybe if you went back there, you'll get more?" Clint asks. "Could be important."

"Could be," I agree, taking my cocoa back to my room. As I do so, I think about the strangeness of the situation. I've never been one to take food or drinks into my room - in my family, that's not even allowed.

I drink the cocoa, allowing more of the memory to filter into my brain. After Dad called me, Peter went and hid behind the very same chair in which I'm currently sitting. Meanwhile, I stuck my head out the door and told him to go away (okay, I didn't actually say that, but it amounted to the same thing.) He reminded me of my fantasy about living in a chocolate house, to which I responded that it would be impractical. And fattening. Then I turned around and saw Peter's head sticking out from behind the chair, and he was trying not to laugh at the whole "chocolate house" thing.

I even remember going back to Dad and passing my whole outburst off on a nonexistent period. I can't believe I didn't start laughing my head off at how uncomfortable he was, especially since I was lying my ass off to cover for Peter's presence behind my closed door.

I don't really know how long I spend lost in that memory. It must be a good long while, though, because the next thing I know, I'm hearing Tony's and Hiro's voices coming into the apartment, talking to Skye and Tadashi.

And then I hear a clunking noise outside my window. I turn around to see Peter crouched on the fire escape, a silly grin on his face.

"Did you really just climb twenty stories?" I ask as I open the window.

Peter's grin expands, as if to say, "Stupid question." "Yeah," he says. "Stark thinks I'm just bein' a show-off."

"I think he might be right," I laugh as Peter climbs through the window and dusts himself off. "So, did you get anything?"

"Got some of these," Peter says, showing me the inside of his wrist. He's attached a small metal disk to the cuff of his shirtsleeve, and is keeping it hidden under the sleeve of his hoodie.

"What are they?"

"Webshooters," Peter says. "I tried 'em out before leavin' my house. I made a bit of a mess, but nothing I couldn't clean up." He sniffs the air. "Is that hot chocolate?"

"It helped me unlock a memory," I say. "Remember when my dad was teasing me about the chocolate house thing?"

"Is that really your fantasy?" Peter asks. "'Cause if so, when can I join you there?"

I laugh out loud - something I try not to do all that often, because it sounds really fake and obnoxious. Unfortunately, I'm naturally a terrible laugher.

"I got an idea," Peter says, pulling his jacket sleeve back over his webshooter again. "I think I can unlock another memory of yours. Hell, I'd be surprised if it's not already unlocked, you know what I mean?"

I'm a bit unnerved by the gleam in his eye, but I go along with his plan anyway. Peter leads me out of my room and onto the balcony just outside the apartment's back door.

"So, uh, what are we doin' out here?" I ask, glancing back at the door in case anyone's followed us. I'm sure Skye and/or Tadashi will be coming through that door any moment.

"I think it's better if I show you," Peter says, standing about five feet to my right. "Turn around."

"Why?" I ask, my suspicions raised.

"I promise, it's nothing nasty," Peter says.

I give him a sideways smile, then turn around. A second later, something small and sticky hits me in the small of my back, then I'm pulled towards Peter. In a lightning-fast movement, he's got me in his arms.

Even before Peter points it out, I remember exactly what he's emulating. Our first kiss - which was also the moment where he confessed to me that he was Spider-Man. Not in words - he just couldn't spit it out - but with the webline to my back.

When he repeats that kiss as well, it feels like I'm experiencing it twice in the same moment. Although the first time, we both had fish breath - I'm also remembering that I'd invited him over for dinner, and Mom had made branzino. This time, I have cocoa breath, which I'm sure Peter enjoys a lot more.

Peter breaks off the kiss a little sooner than I would have liked, but he makes up for it by gazing into my eyes. "I love you," he says. "So much."

I blink back tears as I see his own eyes starting to water. "Me too."

Sadly, this is when our sweet moment is shattered by someone's cell phone ringing loudly behind the door. Peter and I stomp over there and find Tadashi fumbling with his phone's screen while Tony tries not to laugh at his clumsiness.

"Is that 'Uptown Funk?'" Peter asks, pointing to Tadashi's phone. "In Japanese?"

Tadashi nods. "Yep. A friend of mine karaoked it, and sent the recording out to everyone she knew. I liked it so much I decided to use it as my ringtone." He finally answers his phone, but then hangs up a couple seconds later.

"Missed call?" I ask.

"No, it wasn't a call," Tadashi says. "It's just time for us to head to Stark Tower now."

Tony nods approvingly. "Finally. Now I can get the Iron Man suit on. If it fits me, of course. I think my body's still got some filling out to do before I finally become a man." He snickers under his breath. "Hey, could you play that song again, dude? I wanted to see if I could understand it."

Tadashi's face brightens. "Oh. Anata ga nihongo o hanasu?"

Peter and I exchange confused glances while Tony responds in Japanese: "Hai. Jakkan."

"Dono kurai anata wa sore o benkyō shite iru?" Tadashi asks.

Tony then breaks into a fit of embarrassed laughter. "I'm sorry, but I have no idea what you just said. Then again, I've only been takin' Japanese for a couple months now."

"Then you just answered my question," Tadashi says. "I asked how long you've been studying it." He smacks his forehead. "So you've been in that class for a couple months already and you don't even know that phrase? Unbelievable."

"Hey, you were talkin' way too fast there," Tony says. "I didn't even know that's what you said till after you pointed it out."

He looks at Peter, who holds up his hands. "Don't look at me," he says. "I don't speak a word of Japanese."

"I know," Tony says. "But what foreign language do you take? Didn't it seem hella fast at first for you too?"

"Of course it did," Peter says. "It's French. French always sounds hella fast."

Tadashi frowns as he leads us back to the apartment. "Are you guys sure you're not from San Fransokyo? 'Cause the way you say 'hella' all the time...I doubt you'd have said it before you were taken from here."

"What do you mean?" Peter asks. "I've always said that."

"He does have a point," I say. "I've always heard it was strictly a San Fransokyo thing. Or, I guess in this universe, we'd say-"

"San Francisco," Tadashi says. "That was the original name of our city too, but in our world - not this one - the Japanese helped rebuild it after the 1906 earthquake, so they renamed it to reflect the Japanese aesthetic the new city had."

"Yeah, we've heard that story before," says Peter. "In whatever fake memory implants of fourth-grade California history class we've all been given."

I nod along with Peter. "Yeah, except I'm starting to lose my memory of that. I don't remember any fourth-grade California history class."

"Maybe that's your memory implants losing the fight with the real memories?" Tony suggests.

Tadashi nods thoughtfully, then opens the door and takes us back into the apartment. "Good theory, Tony. All right, everyone," he says to the room at large, clapping his hands for attention. "Are we ready to go to Stark Tower?"

A rousing chorus of "Yes!" rings through the room. Tadashi and I spare a minute to wash out every mug that was used for cocoa, then we all head out. Peter insists on taking the fire escape - not to show off this time, but because he didn't want to arouse the doorman's suspicions by having one more person leave the building than there had been coming in.

It's not long until we get to Stark Tower and park in the underground garage at the base of the building. Skye is able to flash her SHIELD badge at the entrance, and that's clearly good enough for our entire party. The second SUV doesn't even get stopped.

"Hey," Tony says as we wait for the elevator to arrive. "Am I the only one who noticed the light on the tower change?"

"It changed?" Skye asks. Her eyes dart over to the garage entrance, as if deciding whether or not she should make the run over there just to look outside.

"Yeah," Tony says. "It went red. That's a bad sign, I take it? A red alert or something?"

"It means we're gonna want you in the Iron Man suit ASAP," Skye says.

"Tell me I'm at least gonna get some kind of training first," Tony says, even though we all know what the answer will be.

Skye shakes her head. "Muscle memory, dude."

Peter pulls a webshooter out of his jacket pocket, then puts it back. I can hear a faint clinking, suggesting that he's got a pile of them where that came from. "Whatever's gonna come after us," he says, "I'll be ready. I think."

"Don't think, just feel," says Hiro, putting on a headband. He'd explained about his neural-cranial transmitter and microbots on the drive from the apartment.

"Now I'm startin' to feel useless," I groan. "I don't have any cool weapons."

"Oh, that's right," Simmons says. "We almost forgot. Fitz, the Night-Night Gun?"

"I thought we weren't usin' that name anymore," says Fitz as he hands me one of the modified pistols.

"I like it," I say, tucking the gun in the waistband of my skirt. Now I'm starting to feel like a badass. "It's a ridiculously cute nickname for an efficient weapon."

Simmons nods approvingly. "There's something to be said for dichotomy, is there not?"

The elevator opens, and I join Skye, Tony, Peter, and Hiro. Skye hits the top-floor button, but it does nothing to make the elevator move. "Oh, right, I forgot," she says. "It needs your thumbprint, Mr. Stark."

Tony presses his thumb to the button, and the elevator responds by going up. "Welcome back, Mr. Stark," says a smooth, English-accented male voice. "May I ask what beauty regimen you've taken up? You look twenty years younger, sir."

Tony looks around at all of us, but doesn't respond to the electronic voice's question. This leads to a long and awkward silence, even throughout the relatively short elevator ride.

But then, as soon as we arrive at the top floor, we're greeted by the biggest surprise so far today. A tall man in a red-and-blue outfit - not unlike that of Spider-Man, but with eyeholes instead of mirrored lenses - is waiting, a big automatic-looking gun pointed right in our faces.

"Deadpool?" Skye asks incredulously. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"What do you think? Startin' the ball rollin' on the next level of this silly story plot," Deadpool laughs. We've been told he was insane, but his laughter doesn't sound as maniacal as your usual garden-variety Renfield-type. "Step into my office - oh, wait. No, it's your office," he says, casually poking his gun into Tony's face. "You just don't know it yet."

Skye levels her Night-Night Gun in Deadpool's face. "Give me one good reason not to ice your ass right here."

"The writer won't let you," Deadpool says, pointing somewhere vaguely overhead. "Sure, that skinny-ass geek's got a crush on you, but that doesn't mean he'll let you do whatever the hell you want."

"I'm serious," Skye says, cocking the gun. "Why are you here? No more games."

Deadpool lets his eyes rove over Skye's body - and mine as well. "Yo, perv," I say, snapping my fingers in his face. "Eyes up here if you wanna talk to me."

"Right," Deadpool drawls. "Lemme see if I got all your names right. Skye, I remember you. Gwen Stacy, of course. You're a real pretty one."

I don't know which disturbs me more - the fact that this cuckoo knows my name, or the fact that he's continuing to check me out. "You do realize I'm only seventeen, right?"

"Yeah, so what? I was seventeen once too." Deadpool looks at Peter. "Peter Parker. You know, I was told you were a total nerd. I guess the definition of 'nerd' changed sometime in the last twelve years. Seriously, any girl you wanted, you could get into her pants." Peter gapes at him, clearly shocked by his frankness. "Or guy, if that's how you roll. Not that I'm gonna judge."

Now it's Tony's turn. "So you're the famous Iron Man," Deadpool says. "Or are you? I mean, I know the writer says you are, but you're not even a man yet. Hell, has anyone ever told you, you look exactly like that kid from The Internship? Great movie. Great, great movie. Very hilarious."

And finally, he reaches Hiro. "And you. A prodigious young man, a genius in the robotics field. But you've got a tragic backstory of your own. One that, like everyone else in the room - excluding your not-really-sister, of course" - he nods at Skye - "you've managed to forget."

Outside, sirens start to wail. "And that's my cue," Deadpool says. "The Dark Elves are coming, and I gotta keep you guys safe. So you should probably get behind me. Oh, and Stark? You can send me the repair bill, but don't expect me to pay it."

Deadpool goes outside onto the balcony, then leans over the edge of the building and starts shooting at something below.

"Guys?" Stark says. "Is this what we're here for?"

I turn to see what he's talking about. Standing in a niche behind a big office desk - with Tony's name engraved on the nameplate - is the distinctive red-and-gold Iron Man suit.

Not only that, but to its right is a stars-and-stripes-colored suit and disk-shaped metal shield - Captain America's uniform. And between these is the distinctive red-and-blue spandex Spidey-suit.