Three
The Night That Brings The Day
As far back as Peter Parker can remember, he always wanted to help people. Doing good things made Peter feel good. During one winter they were hit with a particularly nasty snowstorm that knocked out the power in most of their neighborhood. Peter helped Aunt May make apple pies for everyone who had lost power using his heat vision and had helped Uncle Ben distribute them with his super speed. It hadn't brought people's electricity back, but it was the gesture that mattered, it made people feel better and it let them know that someone cared and was looking out for them. That was what was important to Peter.
Before superheroes had come to life, Peter loved reading about them in comic books. He still did, even if they weren't quite as exciting as turning on the news. His favorite heroes were Ultiman of Big Bang Comics and Apollo of Wildstorm Comics. He felt a sort of… connection to them that he couldn't really put into words. Peter's favorite birthday present had to be, hands-down, the first team-up of Captain Thunder and Ultiman after BBC bought Fawcett comics. The whole point of this is that this love of comics and capes and crusaders is probably where Peter's weird dreams came from, even before the Fantastic Four or Iron Man were things. He dreamed of flying around in a bright costume, beating up bad guys and stopping natural disasters. Helping people. It felt like what he was always meant to do.
When he'd told his Aunt May and Uncle Ben about it, they couldn't have been more supportive. Like Peter, Uncle Ben was a huge fan of comic books and had gotten him started on reading them, so it was his uncle who came up with the idea for how Peter could present himself to keep people from guessing that he might have a secret identity, from fake glasses to the way he carried himself. And Aunt May… Peter wasn't sure what she had planned, but he'd noticed her buying a lot of fabric.
"Come on, Peter!" Gwen Stacy called over her shoulder as Peter raced behind her and Randy Robertson. Gwen was Peter's best friend since the fourth grade, a frequent study companion, and someone that Peter totally didn't have a crush on in any way, shape, or form. Although also a nerd, she was slightly cooler than Peter, if due to nothing other than the contrast between her orange hoodie and blue cargo pants with Peter's sweater vest, white dress shirt, and khaki slacks.
"Seriously," Randy added, "As much as you've been talking about this science thing, you're the one who's gonna make us late!" Randy was on the football team and his father, Joseph "Robbie" Robertson, worked for the Daily Bugle which was one of the nation's most respected papers and a place where Peter wanted to work someday. Peter, Gwen, and Randy were originally stuck together with a group project in English class, but school-enforced interaction actually wound up with them becoming friends. He also kept Flash Thompson out of Peter's hair.
"It's not a 'science thing', Randy," Peter corrected, "Our class is going to–"
"I know, I know," Randy sighed, "We're going to a demonstration on experiments in radioactivity."
"That's gonna be safe, right?" Gwen asked as she adjusted her glasses, rectangular in contrast to Peter's big coke bottle glasses. Randy was the only one of the three who didn't wear glasses, which raised the trio's cool factor about thirty percent.
"Yeah," Peter said offhandedly, "Proba-whoop!" Peter intentionally tripped, falling forward onto his stomach so he could blow a blast of his ice breath at the wheels of a car with cut breaks that was speeding down the road, bringing it to a sudden halt.
"Jeez, Pete," Randy muttered as he and Gwen helped him up, "How can a guy who looks like you still be so clumsy?"
"Writes like a poet, moves like a landslide," Gwen teased as Peter adjusted his glasses and rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah…"
OoOoOoO
Peter had taken extensive notes on the radiation experiments for the school newspaper, which he was one of the top writers for. He had tried his hand at being a photographer but his superhuman vision meant that the shots he took never looked as good through the camera lens as he thought they would. The paper wanted a story on the radiation experiments and Andy Anderson was taking the pictures. He was a good photographer, if a little annoying.
"Now as you'll see," the chief scientist said as the students were carefully placed behind a protective lead shielding with plexiglass windows, "This machine will allow us to show different radiation wavelengths safely." He also said something about how the viewing screens on the outside of the shielding would show the different wavelengths of light to let the class see what the radioactive rays looked like, but Peter didn't really need those. The machine looked a little bit like those old Tesla coils you'd see in a mad scientist's lab in a movie, with two red balls clamped between massive four-pronged claws. The scientist flipped a massive, red-handled switch and the room was suddenly filled with a loud humming and the air crackled with energy. On top of the blinding array of colors from the various wavelengths of radiation they saw, Peter also noticed a spider dangling on a web between the energy conduits.
'Ouch,' Peter thought as he looked down at his notepad, 'Poor little guy.' Then Peter looked back up from his notes and saw a spider on his hand. "Huh," he muttered. Then the spider tried to bite him and he smirked. He blew gently on the spider and grinned to himself as he went back to scribbling on his notepad.
Then he heard Randy scream in pain and spun around to see Randy writhing on the ground in pain.
Randy was unconscious in the hospital for a week after the spider bite. Apparently, the spider had been the radioactive one that Peter had seen get caught in the machine before.
'If I'd just swatted it…' Peter thought the first time he visited Randy in the hospital. He visited Randy every day. Randy's dad Robbie had been furious that this had been allowed to happen and was threatening to use the power of the Daily Bugle to close down Empire State University. Even though Randy got better and was back in school in a week and a half, Peter still felt bad.
"They won't let me back on the team," Randy muttered dejectedly at lunch one day as he tossed his letterman jacket in the cafeteria trash can. "Coach says parents are worried about me giving their kids cancer or whatever."
"Seriously?!" Gwen asked furiously. "That's so messed up! We should complain to the school board."
"Yeah," Peter added, "They've got no proof!" Not that he could tell Randy that he could see with his radiology vision that Randy was no more radioactive than any other human, but still. Although that spider bite had clearly done something to Randy's DNA, Peter just couldn't tell what. He couldn't tell him that, either, obviously. Randy shrugged and gave him a half-smile.
"Hell," he muttered, "I know what it is. All these white parents are just mad that I'm gonna outshine their kids." Then he looked over at Flash, who had started sitting with them at lunch, and smirked. "No offense."
"What am I gonna get offended about?" Flash asked. "You're not a better player than me." Randy laughed and punched Flash in the arm. Gwen laughed too but, as Peter looked down at his banana and peanut butter sandwich, all he could think was that he needed to get better about using his powers. That, and…
'It can't get worse, right?'
OoOoOoO
Tony Stark grinned at the iridescent green glow of the fist-sized rock in the case in front of him. That SHIELD scientist had come through and, although it had been expensive, Tony had done it. He had created something that had not existed on Earth before. Even Iron Man wasn't this cool, from a scientific standpoint.
"Congratulations, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S chirped, "It appears you have synthesized a new element. What will you call it?" Tony pulled off his goggles and his grin widened, not even noticing the two or three hairs that came off with them. His first instinct was to name it after himself. That was tradition, right? Starkonium. Starktite. Starkirium. But then he was struck by inspiration and came up with a much, much better idea.
"I'm thinking… Kryptonite."
OoOoOoO
Ben Parker had been many things in his life. He'd been a star athlete in college and served a term overseas in the army. He had been an electrician, a factory worker, and was a manufacturing plant manager.
Today he was a mannequin.
"Careful with those pins," he muttered as he stood with his arms outstretched.
"If you didn't squirm so much," May retorted, "You wouldn't have to worry about me being careful."
Ben was dressed up in the costume May was making Peter so he could become a superhero. She hoped to have it done in time for his birthday. Being entirely honest with himself, he wasn't crazy about it. He didn't quite get the idea behind making it look like Peter was wearing trunks over his tights but May had gotten the idea from old circus strongmen and Ben wasn't going to argue. The cape, which was the fabric Peter had come to Earth with, was fastened to Ben's back with those pushpins he had mentioned. Which were pushed in a little too close for his comfort.
"Why in the Sam Hell do I have to do this, anyhow?" Ben asked. "Peter's gonna be taller than me in two weeks, May, never mind his birthday."
"That's why it's loose on you," May explained as she looked back and forth between two chest emblems she had made to match the emblem on Peter's cape. One with a red S and outline and a yellow inside, one with a yellow outline, black inside, and red S. The latter was more triangular and the former was a pentagon. "Besides, I can't ask Peter for his measurements out of the blue, can I? Then he'll know something's up and I don't want to spoil the sur–" May came to a stop as she heard Peter's bedroom door open and his footsteps came closer to their bedroom. Thinking quickly, May shoved her husband into the closet and slammed the door shut before standing with her back it.
"Ow…" Ben groaned.
"Shh!" May whispered as Peter knocked at the door.
"Aunt May," came the voice from the other side, "Can I come in?"
"Of course, dear," May replied perhaps too nonchalant. "What is it?" Peter walked into the bedroom and eyed May curiously. The benefit to standing in front of the closet was that, well, if Peter wanted to see what was inside, that would involve using his X-Ray vision on her. Somehow she doubted he was that curious.
"I've been thinking," Peter began, "About how I need to get better at controlling my powers." It wasn't just the incident with that poor Robertson boy that Peter was thinking of, May knew, but also those new sneakers Peter had run holes through a few weeks ago when he first put them on. He wouldn't let her or Ben throw them out, telling them that he'd look at them "Whenever I get a big head." "And I was thinking," Peter was saying, "There's that school for gifted youngsters we've seen commercials for."
"Oh, Peter…" May started to say.
"I know I'm not a mutant," Peter interrupted, "And I know I can't just change schools. I don't want to. But I was thinking, you know, I could at least talk to Mr. Xavier. See if he'll let me use the facilities, considering I'm a special case and everything." Peter looked pleadingly at May and she heard the unspoken question; "And maybe I'll meet other kids who have powers like me." She chewed her lip thoughtfully but knew that she couldn't last more than a second when Peter looked at her like that.
"Have you finished your homework?" May asked. Peter broke out into a grin that nearly split his head before he dashed back off to his bedroom. May chuckled as she heard the sound of pages flipping madly and a frantically-scribbling pencil. Then Peter was back.
"Yep!" he declared with a grin.
"Is it correct?" She asked with her hands on her hips. Peter gave a sheepish shrug.
"I'll have my phone if it isn't," he told her, "You can call me and I'll come home to fix it." May sighed and shook her head.
"Alright," she allowed, finally admitting defeat, "Alright." Peter ran to give his aunt a hug and lifted her off the ground which caused her to whoop with surprise. "But don't be out too late," she told Peter firmly when he set her down, "It's a school night, after all." Peter nodded emphatically and rushed out the door. "Make sure no one sees you!" she called. Peter was, of course, already long gone.
"I hope you had more blue fabric," Ben grumbled from inside the closet, "Because I'm definitely bleeding…"
OoOoOoO
It took Peter a few leaps to reach North Salem and, in total, about ten minutes. Sometimes when Peter jumped high enough he could swear he was flying. Maybe someday…
Once Peter was in the general area of the school's address it took him a few minutes to get to the front gates. Mostly because he kept outrunning his GPS and confusing it. Then it was just another quick leap over the iron gates and up the driveway to land Peter directly at the front door of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. Peter adjusted his glasses and smoothed down his sweater vest before knocking on the door. The person who answered the door was a young girl around Peter's age, perhaps a year or two older, with long red hair, dressed in a blue skirt with a matching neckerchief and a long-sleeved black shirt with stockings and black heels.
"Can I… help you?" she asked suspiciously as she eyed Peter up and down. Peter felt his face reddening and cleared his throat, hoping he hadn't been staring. Gosh, though, she was pretty.
"M-My name's Peter Parker," he said as he held out his hand, "I'd like to speak to Mr. Xavier, please." Her expression lightened considerably and she smiled while took his hand.
"Oh, hello, Peter," she greeted cheerfully before she stepped aside to let him in. "Please come inside. I'll go and tell the professor. Are you a mutant as well?" Peter paused for a moment as he thought about that. It would be a bad first impression to lie but what if they didn't take non-mutants? So he just shrugged.
"Not exactly," he told her with a little smile. She squinted slightly at Peter and his mind felt suddenly… fuzzy. "Please don't read my mind," he blurted out. She stared at him with wide eyes and turned before quickly making her way up the spiral staircase to the professor's office. Peter followed her up, looking this way and that as he did and taking in the whole expanse of the mansion. It was definitely big enough to be a school. It completely floored him to think that this was someone's house, too. His superhearing picked up the other students throughout the building. He heard someone named Scott talking to someone named Bobby, and a ping pong game between someone named Warren and someone named Hank. This giant school, only for five students? That was… weird.
While Peter was thinking about all of this, Jean was thinking about the few things she had picked up from her brief scan of Peter's mind as well as the fact that he could tell she was doing it! Even the other X-Men couldn't notice that. It was a little embarrassing knowing that he knew. It made her like she'd been peeking on him in the shower! Especially since she'd seen, along with his thoughts about not being a mutant and wanting to control whatever powers he had, his first thoughts upon seeing her. Not surprisingly, he'd thought about kissing her. All the boys did. Except for Bobby, strangely enough. There was something strangely… wholesome about his version of the thought, however. Jean pushed it quickly from her mind as she brought Peter to the oaken double doors of the professor's office and gestured to a seat.
"Wait right here," she told him, "I'll go and tell the professor." Then she opened one of the doors and slid inside while Peter sat down in one of the brown varnished chairs with green cushions. Peter calmly drummed his fingers in his lap while he waited. He saw one of the other students run past with… snow in his hair? In April?
Before Peter could go and see what that was about, Jean opened the door again. "The professor will see you now," she said before walking down the hall, presumably to join her friends. Peter got up from his chair and walked into the office. There were bookshelves practically on every wall as well as a display case for Xavier's multiple doctorates and a wall of windows behind the professor's desk. There was a large globe to the right of the desk and a fireplace up against the left wall and, also sitting behind the desk, was Professor Charles Xavier himself. Dressed in a green jacket with a white undershirt and blue tie, the afternoon sun glinted slightly off of his bald head and his hoverchair hummed softly as Peter entered the room.
"Mr. Parker," Xavier greeted warmly as he gestured to the seat across from him. "Please, have a seat. I understand that you're looking for my help, although you are apparently 'not exactly' a mutant." There was a wry quirk of the professor's lips as Peter pulled out the chair and sat down. "Then what, my dear boy, are you, exactly?" Peter pulled off his glasses and rubbed at the bride of his nose for a moment before responding. He'd never actually told anyone this out loud.
"Well, professor," Peter began, "I'm an alien. I came to this planet when I was a baby. I've been born with incredible powers and I'm only getting stronger. I want to use my powers to help people and be a superhero like your students, but I need to know how to use them and how to control them." Xavier eyed Peter curiously and stroked his chin. "I know it sounds crazy and all but it's the truth." The professor nodded and folded his hands on his desk.
"Well, Mr. Parker," he said, "While the facilities are normally only open to my students, I believe I can make an exception in this case." Peter beamed at that and nodded eagerly.
"Thank you, Professor!" "
Of course," Xavier added, "My school is not exclusively open to mutants. You may have noticed that the plaque outside said that this is a place for 'Gifted Youngsters', and if what you say about your abilities is true then you certainly belong here." Peter smiled but shook his head.
"I'm grateful, professor," Peter said, "But I just couldn't accept that. My aunt and uncle couldn't afford the tuition on a place like this. Besides, I've got friends back at Midtown High. Basically the only friends I have." Xavier nodded and the humming grew slightly louder as he began to move his hoverchair.
"Very well," Xavier replied, "Nevertheless, let me show you to the Danger Room. I've just sent a telepathic message for the others to do the same."
"Danger Room?" Peter asked incredulously as he followed after the professor. Xavier chuckled and shook his head.
"It's really not so bad as all that," he assured Peter, "I think Mr. McCoy started calling it that and the others just picked it up. It's more of an obstacle course, to be honest."
"Ah, crud," Peter muttered, "I forgot to bring any gym clothes." He hadn't expected to be doing anything today, honestly. Talking to the Professor had been his main goal. But he supposed there was no backing out now.
"Not to worry," Xavier assured him, "I believe we'll be able to accommodate."
Xavier's accommodations turned out to be a spare X-Man uniform. Although the cowl was a little stuffy so he left hanging down his back and the gloves didn't fit right so he left those off. All in all though, it didn't feel bad. A little… snug, but not bad. He hoped his own superhero costume would fit this nice. Peter waited in the "Danger Room", a featureless room covered from floor-to-ceiling in large steel panels, as the others filed in. Peter read two things in the newspaper: the comics and any stories about superheroes. Three if you counted The Jumble. Either way, he knew who they were.
There was Cyclops, who was by all appearances the team's leader. He wore a ruby quartz visor and seemed to have some form of heat vision like him, although his was red where Peter's was a blue-white. Or at least, that was how Aunt May described it. There was Beast, who had the build and musculature of neanderthal man but the swiftness and grace of a master acrobat and a genius cunning. Because of his massive hands and feet, he went barehanded and barefoot. Iceman, who really looked like more of a Snowman in boots; Angel, a young man with gigantic white bird's wings coming out of his back; And finally, Marvel Girl, who Peter figured must have been Jean, her bright red hair spilling out of the back of her cowl.
"Well whaddaya know," Angel remarked as the X-Men filed into the room. "Who's the new guy?" Jean couldn't help but note, with some surprise, that Peter finally got the psychosomatic response from Bobby that the other boys gave when they looked at her. Very interesting...
"I, uh, I don't have a cool name yet," Peter stammered as he held out a hand, "So you can call me Peter." Angel smiled as he took Peter's hand and shook it.
"In that case, you can call me Warren." Then Cyclops walked up to Peter and shook his hand after Peter let go.
"I'm Scott," he greeted, "Scott Summers. Nice to meet you, Peter."
"Are you enrolling?" Iceman asked as he shook Peter's hand next, "I'm Bobby, by the way. Bobby Drake."
"I don't think I'll be able to enroll," Peter admitted, "But I hope I'll be able to come by often."
"And I'm Hank McCoy," Beast greeted last as he loped up to Peter and shook his hand. "Stars and garters," he remarked, "That's quite a grip you've got, Petey!" Which was quite a surprising thing to say, given that Hank's hand was about three times the size of Peter's. "Are you a mutant like us?"
"Not exactly," Peter and Jean said at the same time.
"That's what he told the professor and I, at least," Jean explained. She decided she'd leave it up to Peter if he wanted to tell all of them. He shrugged and she decided that he didn't.
"So," Warren said, "Hank has his acrobatics and his strength, Jeanie has her mind powers, I can fly, Bobby throws snowballs–"
"Ice powers!" Bobby objected hotly as he folded his arms irritably.
"And Scott," Warren continued, "Has his…" He turned to Scott with a perplexed expression. "Now I know it's not heat vision," so Peter was already wrong. "What are your eye beams, Scotty?"
"They're heatless beams of concussive force," Scott explained in the slightly weary tone of someone who had explained something several times already. "The professor hypothesizes that I'm actually channeling the energy from some kind of pocket dimension."
"Punch beams!" Hank simplified.
"From the Punch dimension!" Jean exclaimed. They all laughed before Warren turned back to Peter.
"Anyway," he said, "My point is: what can you do?" Before Peter could explain, he was interrupted.
"X-Men," Xavier's voice crackled over the intercom, "And guest! Today we are going to start off with a low-level exercise to gauge Mr. Parker's abilities." Peter heard something mechanical clicking and moving from inside one of the walls but couldn't guess what it meant. The Danger Room's walls had some kind of shielding that blocked his X-Ray vision. Without warning, a panel opened up in one of the walls and something popped out of the wall that looked not unlike a tiny satellite dish. A yellow beam of energy hit Peter squarely in the chest and sent him staggering back. The others looked surprised that the blast didn't knock him over. As the beam persisted against Peter's chest, he scowled at the dish and froze it solid with a blast of ice breath.
"Jeez," he muttered as he rubbed at his chest, "That actually felt a little sore." Then he broke out into a grin. "What's next?"
It went like that for a couple of weeks, Peter visiting the school every few days after school and definitely on weekends. Every day he got a better grip on his powers. Scott helped him control and aim his heat vision, Bobby helped him control and understand his ice breath, Hank and Warren aided Peter in his agility and coordination, and Jean and the professor helped Peter build blocks against telepathic attacks. Unfortunately, they had no way of measuring or gauging his strength except confirming that he was several orders of magnitude stronger than Hank. All of this and Peter began to actually make some friends who had superpowers like him. Then, something happened that screwed it all up again.
In the middle of a training exercise, the X-Men suddenly stopped rigid and ran for the door out of the Danger Room.
"Hey," Peter exclaimed as they left him, "What's going on?"
"The Professor summoned us telepathically," Jean explained, "We must have a mission!" Without being asked to, Peter followed after them. "What are you doing?"
"I know I'm not an X-Man," Peter admitted, "But I can help! I mean, I've been wearing the tights for two weeks, for crying out loud!" The group came to a stop and Scott sighed.
"Peter's right," he allowed, "Besides, if it's who I think it is, we'll need his strength. Now come on!" The six of them darted to Professor Xavier's office where he was waiting for them tensely.
"What's the problem, Professor?" Warren asked.
"It's Magneto," Xavier explained with a weary sigh, "And his Mutant Brotherhood. I fear they've grown more daring than ever. They're making an attack on the United Nations building during a peace summit!"
"Oh my Stars and Garters," Hank exclaimed, "That's beyond the pale!"
"So it is," Xavier agreed, "So there is not a moment to lose! Take the Blackbird!" Bobby's face lit up as they quickly dashed out of the room. "Scott is the only one trained to fly it, Bobby, not you!" Bobby was deflated slightly but rushed all the same.
"What's the Blackbird?" Peter asked while also confused as to why they were heading for the gymnasium.
"Our jet," Hank explained as he loped along on all fours.
"Your what?!" Peter exclaimed as they burst into the gymnasium. Warren pulled the fire alarm along the wall and the basketball court slowly split open. Peter stared open-mouthed as a sleek black jet with red-tinted windows rose out of the ground with plumes of smoke billowing out of the floor. "You have a jet…" Peter mumbled in shock.
"I'm the only one qualified to fly it," Scott told Peter as a panel lowered along the belly of the Thunderbird and transformed into a set of stairs. "So don't get any ideas."
"Wait," Peter asked as they ran up the stairs, "You've flown this thing before?"
"No…" Scott admitted, "But I've got a perfect record on simulations!" Peter swallowed nervously and hoped he was durable enough to withstand a plane crash as he buckled into one of the chairs. Sure was lucky there were six of them. As everyone buckled in and the roof opened up, it finally hit Peter that he was actually about to do some superheroing. With the X-Men. A team-up and he didn't even have his own costume!
Holy crap.
"Hey," Bobby said as he nudged Peter, "Don't forget to put your mask on."
"Oh, right!" Peter exclaimed and slapped himself in the forehead. "Duh." He grabbed the cowl and pulled it over his face as the Blackbird lifted off the ground in a horizontal takeoff and blasted off across the evening sky.
"Holy cow," Jean muttered as she was pressed back against the seat, "This thing moves at a clip." Peter nodded while Warren was… unimpressed.
"Not much faster than me…" he muttered.
"I… uh… still don't have a cool name." Peter muttered as he scratched at the back of his head nervously.
"How about Superboy?" Bobby suggested. Peter eyed him curiously and Bobby's face flushed. "Uh… yeah, it was a dumb idea. Never mind."
"Actually…" Peter said, "I like it." Bobby beamed.
"Okay," Scott called back from the pilot's chair, "We'll be at the embassy in three minutes so let's hurry up and strategize. Peter, you're the fastest. Your first priority is to get civilians out of the building."
"Got it."
"Bobby-"
"I've got Blob, don't worry. I'll freeze that big bowl of custard!"
"Don't ever say that again. Hank, can you handle Toad?"
"Could Irving Berlin write music?" Hank asked rhetorically.
"I'm… going to assume that means yes. Warren?"
"Vanisher won't be able to escape me this time," he assured Scott.
"I'll handle Avalanche," Scott declared, "Jean, you're the one best-equipped to face Magneto–"
"And I'll do it just fine," she assured him, silencing what was probably the question "Are you sure you can handle it?" Scott nodded and turned his attention back to the controls.
"Alright, X-Men," he said in a commanding tone, "Get ready to drop!"
OoOoOoO
It was pandemonium inside the United Nations headquarters with diplomats, dignitaries, and world leaders scrambling to escape the wrath of the Mutant Brotherhood, led by the malevolent militant clothed in mauve and crimson, the Master of Magnetism: Magneto.
"You come here to talk of peace," Magneto boomed, "And yet you would turn a blind eye to the suffering of mutantkind in your countries!" He raised his arms and spread his hands and the building began to tremble as steel and iron shrieked in protest before they began to contort. "We, the Mutant Brotherhood, shall see you answer for your crimes against mutantkind, where it is a crime for mutants to even be born!" The shaking grew worse as Avalanche thrust out his fists. The mutant in blue and silver armor projected a destabilizing force that made the entire building tremble. Meanwhile The Blob, a monstrously obese man clothed in a black singlet, and Unus the Untouchable, a black-haired and muscular man dressed all in red with a massive orange metallic belt, guarded the exits. Vanisher, in a rather unfortunate studded lime green number and a dark green cape, grabbed any who managed to slip by and teleported them back into the conference room while Toad, dressed in an orange and purple jester's outfit, clung to the walls and cackled like a madman.
Among the panicking politicians, one man remained icy calm. His name was T'Challa and he was the King of Wakanda. While everyone panicked and looked for an escape, T'Challa looked for a space where he might be able to summon The Avengers and transform into his secret guise of The Black Panther. Before T'Challa could attempt anything, however, he was suddenly outside of the building and on the ground. He was only vaguely aware of having moved, with a rush of air and the sound of shattering glass giving barley an explanation. T'Challa looked back up at the Headquarters and saw one of the windows was shattered. He also saw that there were about twenty or thirty other diplomats around him. They all watched as a yellow-and-blue blur raced up the side of the building and into the broken window before coming back down and depositing another two or three dozen leaders. Back and forth the blur ran, even grabbing custodians and other workers, before it vanished back inside the building. T'Challa was… confused. Even Pietro wasn't this fast.
OoOoOoO
Inside the building, Beast leaped up and ripped Toad off the wall, swinging him by his tongue and flinging him through several desks. He bounded after Toad and leaped onto him but Toad pulled his feet up under him and shoved Beast away, sending him hurtling into an opposite wall. As they tussled, Iceman moved evasively around Blob on his ice tracks, blasting the big man with cold beams as Blob swung his massive, jiggly arms.
"Get down here, you little idiot!" Blob demanded as Iceman once again slipped through his grasp. "Don't you know that nothin' can hurt The Blob?!"
"Well I've got a question for you," Iceman asked as he slid along on his ice track upside-down on one hand and his other hand fired an icy blast at Blob. "Do you know what happens when you expose jell-o to subpolar temperatures?" He flipped and formed a giant snowball in his hands before dropping it right on Blob's head. "The same thing that happens to everything else!"
"Oh my Gooood," Angel groaned as he escaped Vanisher's teleporting grasp and socked him right in the face, "That was the worst line ever!" Vanisher turned a tight cartwheel through the air and teleported in a flash of light and leveled his gas gun at Angel's back as he reappeared behind him. Angel spread his wings and knocked the gun out of Vanisher's hands before spinning around and smacking him with those wings to send him tumbling away again.
Above them, Magneto and Marvel Girl engaged in a psychokinetic tug of war, hurtling objects and deflecting them with increasing speed and ferocity. Marvel Girl had incredible raw power and potential, but Magneto had far greater mastery of his abilities and vast experience. As such, Marvel Girl was mostly fighting defensive and keeping Magneto occupied, as he was the most powerful of the Brotherhood.
"Charles trained you well, child," Magneto remarked as he threw a jagged girder at Marvel Girl like a javelin, "But not well enough!" She plucked it out of the air and swung it back around at Magneto with the cockiness of youth.
"He taught me well enough to beat a villain like you!" she retorted as she ripped chunks out of the floor and yanked them upwards to attack Magneto from beneath and knock him off-balance. Cyclops ducked and rolled and dodged to avoid Avalanche's tremors and the objects he tried to drop on him before knocking him back with a high-powered Optic blast. A few more well-placed blasts kept Avalanche from focusing long enough to retaliate and eventually put him down for the count. Cyclops barely had time to register his victory before something crashed into him and sent him sprawling. Cyclops looked up to see a man in a red suit looming over him.
"Huh," Cyclops muttered, "You're new." The man crossed his arms over his chest and threw back his head to laugh.
"I am Unus," he declared boldly, "Unus the Untouchable!" Cyclops smirked and brought a hand up to his visor.
"Untouchable, huh?" he asked, "Let's see how you like this!" He fired an Optic blast and was shocked as he was shoved back with equal force as he'd fired and his blast seemed to bounce off an invisible shield and flew up through the ceiling. "Oh…" Cyclops murmured weakly. Before he could come up with a plan, however, Superboy was in front of him.
"How about you try me on for size?" Superboy asked as he drew a fist back and smashed it into Unus's field. The Untouchable man was sent staggering and the blast between the two of them exploded the floor under their feet. Superboy swung another punch, his left this time, and the explosion was larger and sent Unus back further.
"Superboy, wait!" Cyclops ordered before Superboy went ahead and followed through with a mighty two-handed blow that knocked them both ass-over-teakettle. When they got to their feet, they noticed an Unus-sized hole in the opposite wall that showed the New York skyline.
"Hey," Superboy quipped, "Does that count as touching him?" Superboy couldn't see it but Cyclops was rolling his eyes. "I'll help Marvel Girl deal with Magneto!" This was great, Superboy thought. He was helping the X-Men, saving people and beating up bad guys, just like a real superhero! He thought he was doing pretty great so far.
"No, wait!" Cyclops protested but Superboy already leaped into the air to grab Magneto by his cape and yanking him to the ground, accidentally pulling him out of the path of a section of desks Jean had hurled at him.
"Superboy," Jean exclaimed in confusion, "What're you doing?!" Superboy turned back to her and flashed a thumbs-up as Magneto rose to his feet.
"Don't worry," he assured her as he turned to face Magneto, "I've got–" and caught a steel girder square in the teeth. He groaned and yanked the metal off his face. "Oww…"
"So Charles has picked up another lost fool, I see," Magneto observed as he dusted off his cape and brushed away the undignified manner of Superboy's attack. "Another wayward soul swayed by words of peace and equality. You're on the wrong side, 'Superboy'!" Superboy shrugged.
"I dunno," he quipped as he cracked his knuckles, "You're the one attacking world leaders. Besides, I'm not even a mutant." Magneto bristled and the entire building trembled with his anger. "Oooh… wrong thing to say?"
"I will beat you bloody, you parasitic charlatan!" Magneto bellowed before he began to hurl veritable tons of iron and steel at Superboy, who brought his arms up to shield himself from the attack, stomping forward as he weathered the storm. Superboy charged forward suddenly and slammed his fists down on Magneto's magnetic shield. The building buckled as Superboy rained down blow after blow, the shield rippling under his fists like water. Magneto's legs began to buckle from the strain as Superboy kept up the onslaught. Superboy was practically dizzy with excitement as he used more of his strength than he could ever remember doing before, determined to break through the shield and bring Magneto in to the authorities. He couldn't even hear the others yelling until he heard Bobby.
"Peter!" Iceman screamed as he hurled a blast of ice at the back of Superboy's head. It snapped him out, but too late, and the final blow swung down like a sledgehammer and Magneto's shield burst like a bubble. Cyclops fired a full-strength Optic blast to send Superboy away just as the shockwaves from Magneto's ruptured shield blew up the top five floors of the U.N. building. When the dust cleared, Angel was holding onto Toad and Hank as his wings beat furiously, Iceman had Vanisher and Avalanche on his ice track, and Superboy was holding onto Magneto with one hand as Cyclops hung off his back. The Blob was unmoved.
"Don't worry," Superboy grunted as his fingers dug into steel, "I've got it."
"No," Cyclops growled as they looked up, "She's got it." Everyone watched in open-mouthed amazement at Marvel Girl, her hands at her temples as she held up five floors' worth of steel, concrete, glass, and marble in a giant ball over her head. Blood began to trickle down her nose from the effort and she let the ball drop onto the ground below before she fell to her knees. The others deposited the Mutant Brotherhood they were carrying onto the ground and Superboy started to leap up to grab Marvel Girl before Cyclops clamped a hand on his shoulder in an iron grip. "You. Stay right here." Superboy nodded and looked down at his feet as Angel flew up to collect her and Cyclops went off to get the Blackbird. While Peter was alone, he had nothing to distract himself from the murmuring of the civilians, many of whom were the leaders they'd just saved.
"Did you see that explosion?"
"-ver seen anything move that fast!"
"-nator Kelly said mutants were dangerous…"
"Didn't know there were mutants with that kind of power!"
"So," Beast remarked as he lumbered up to Superboy's side, "You had a chance to play the part of superhero today." He looked up at Superboy, whose face burned red with shame. "How do you like the sound of your curtain call?" The Blackbird landed before Peter could answer and they all walked up the stairs, with Marvel Girl leaning on Angel for support. Bobby dropped out of his snowy form and Peter pulled down his mask as they buckled in. Bobby gave Peter a slightly sympathetic look, quite a contrast to the glowers he was receiving from the others. They rode back to the X-Mansion in silence.
OoOoOoO
"-Completely irresponsible!" Scott was shouting once they were back in Professor Xavier's office. "He put not only the lives of his teammates in danger, but the civilians as well!"
"It was an accident!" Bobby protested in Peter's defense. Peter himself still hadn't said anything in the last ten minutes.
"You throwing a snowball at Hank is an accident," Scott shot back, "Warren flying into me is an accident! Peter destroyed the U.N. capital!"
"He also took out Magneto!"
"As far as the press cares, a mutant blew up an international diplomatic building!" Hank retorted. "I know Peter meant well but there's no telling how badly his stunt tonight damaged mutantkind's reputation, never mind the harm he put Jean in!"
"Guys, really, I'm fine!" Jean assured them wearily from one of the armchairs in the office. Scott wheeled around and leveled an accusing finger in Peter's face.
"I was completely wrong to put my trust in you," he spat, "You're dangerous and reckless. You treat this like some kind of game! You can't be trusted to come into the field!"
"Scott," the Professor said as he suddenly raised his voice, "That's quite enough! There's no need for that kind of–"
"I'm sorry to interrupt, sir," Peter finally spoke up, "But Scott's right. I was stupid out there. I've never been in a real fight, I'm not really part of your team. I screwed things up pretty bad and it could have been a lot worse. I need to take responsibility for my actions… so I'm not coming back." The others looked stunned and even Scott looked saddened.
"Peter," Bobby said softly as he put a hand on Peter's shoulder, "No…" Peter shook his head and pushed Bobby's hand away gently.
"I'm not a mutant," he reminded them, "But as long as I dress like you guys, people will think I am one. And they'll think mutants can get as strong as I am and as strong as I keep getting. People are going to be afraid of me and I don't want to make things worse for you because of that. I know you said I belong here, professor… but I don't." Scott started to walk toward Peter, shaking his head.
"Peter," he started, "I-I didn't mean…" Peter sighed and pulled off his cowl.
"It's okay," he muttered, "I'll figure this out for myself. No use putting you guys in danger while I stumble my way through. Besides," he added, "I knew the Parker luck was gonna screw it up sooner or later." Then he turned and left the office. Bobby looked at him as he left and looked like he wanted to say something but didn't. Peter hung up his costume, put his clothes and glasses back on, and walked out the front door. That would be the last time Peter Parker would walk through the doors of the Xavier Institute for a very, very long time.
OoOoOoO
Robbie Robertson let out a long and weary sigh as he pulled his car into the driveway late one night and made his way up the stairs of his front porch. It had been another long night at the Daily Bugle arguing with his boss, J. Jonah Jameson. As they often did, the argument revolved around the vigilante known as Spider-Man and the Bugle's portrayal of him. Robbie thought that words like "Menace to Society" and "Masked Marauder" were dishonest and bordered on slanderous. Jonah had reminded Robbie, first of all, that slander was spoken and libel was in print. Secondly, while it was true that Spider-Man was fighting "other costumed freaks" like Shocker, Vulture, and the Green Goblin, he had also assaulted six police officers in the last week alone.
"Those officers were all crooked," Robbie had retorted, "With records of taking bribes, committing extortion, and using force against minorities! Hell, he caught one of 'em in the act!"
"How could Spider-man have known that," Jonah shot back, "How do you know it wasn't some lucky coincidence?! You could swing a dead cat in the precinct and hit a corrupt cop, you don't know he attacked them because they were corrupt! No wonder police opened fire on him tonight when he was fighting that Electro lunatic? Speaking of which, Olsen! Get in here with those photos of the spider-fight!"
Robbie let out another weary sigh as he took off his shoes and laid them by the front door before he made his way upstairs. Everyone else was asleep, as he'd expected. He was just going to take a quick shower before he hopped into bed himself. That was, of course, until he noticed that Randy's door was slightly opened and a thin line of light peeped out through the crack. Robbie gave a lopsided smile and shook his head as he made for the door, figuring that the worst thing he'd have to lecture his son about tonight was being up at two in the morning on a school night.
There was Randy, sitting back in his desk chair and snoring. He was in a pair of black sweatpants and red athletic socks but naked from the waist up with dried blood on his chest. He had a hastily-wrapped pad of bloody gauze along his right side, the same spot that one of their writers said that Spider-Man had been clipped tonight. On the floor beside Randy's chair were the two large and clunky web shooters, the red balaklava and the red hoodie, which was also darkened with dried blood, that had the large black spider emblem on it.
"Oh dear mother of God…" Robbie muttered in shock as he leaned against the doorframe for support. His son was Spider-Man.
OoOoOoO
Another month passed, a month with no superheroing for Peter, just practicing his powers in private and going to school. No X-Men. He hadn't answered any of their texts or even listened to their voicemails. He never even walked past the Avengers Mansion or the Baxter Building. He just kept telling himself that he wasn't ready yet. Spider-Man, he'd seen in the paper, had gotten a costume upgrade. A sleek new blue-and-red deal instead of that sporting goods store look. Peter wondered who had set him up with the new duds, the lucky guy.
Peter was so deep in a funk that he was completely floored when he came home one day to find the Stacys, Flash Thompson, Mr. Robertson, and Liz Allan at his house with Aunt May and Uncle Ben, all of them standing under a large banner that said "Happy Birthday!"
"SURPRISE!" They all exclaimed. Peter wasn't sure what to say. He hadn't even known his birthday was coming up! He stared at them all in shock before breaking out into a wide grin.
"You guys!" Peter shouted happily as Uncle Ben, Gwen, and Aunt May moved in for hugs. Flash gave Peter a quick nod and that was just as good, considering Flash. He honestly would never have expected him to be there.
"I guess I owe you this much for you helping me get that B in Algebra, Parker," he'd admitted, which was as close as Flash would ever come to saying that they were friends. Peter talked to Mr. Robertson, who insisted that Peter called him Robbie, for a few minutes about the newspapers business and Robbie had even told Peter that he liked his writing and would see about getting him an internship at the Bugle, tailing after one of their writers.
Randy arrived a few minutes later, looking slightly disheveled with a present under one arm. Peter wondered why Randy's heartbeat was so erratic and why he smelled like smoke, considering Randy didn't smoke. Peter wondered if he'd ran past that fire he'd heard Spider-Man helping at on 29th Street.
Uncle Ben had made his famous beef stroganoff for dinner and Aunt May made probably the best chocolate cake Peter had ever eaten. Judging by the looks on their faces after taking a bite, it was definitely the best chocolate cake any of their guests had ever had.
"Mom," Gwen muttered around a mouthful of cake, "Am I grounded if I say this is better than yours?"
"No," Mrs. Stacy responded, "This is much better than mine. I have to get the recipe, May!" After the cake came presents. Randy got Peter a DVD copy of "Ultiman Returns", which Peter had moaned about not being able to see in theaters. From Gwen. he'd gotten a copy of Reed Richard's autobiography: "How I Got To A Fantastic Life". Aunt May wasn't entirely thrilled about that because she knew that there was a chapter dedicated to the stimulative powers of smoking certain natural substances and other natural hallucinogens, but she also knew that Mr. Fantastic was one of Peter's heroes so she supposed she couldn't object too much. Flash, to Peter's great surprise, gave Peter a letterman jacket like his and Randy's.
"I know you don't play any sports," Flash told Peter as he tried it on, "But I pulled some strings with the coach to get it for ya. Now I can afford to be seen in public with you." Liz elbowed Flash in the ribs but Peter assured Flash that it fit great and he appreciated the gesture. Liz, for her part, got Peter a collection of Hank Pym's college dissertations. Everyone left a little while later that and Peter helped with the dishes afterwards, insisting on it even when Aunt May reminded him it was his birthday. Once everything was washed, dried, and put away, his aunt and uncle brought Peter back into the living room. Uncle Ben had a box with blue paper and a red bow sitting on his lap as he and Aunt May sat on the couch.
"You were probably wondering,"Aunt May began, "Why we didn't get you anything." Uncle Ben grinned broadly and handed the box to Peter.
"Let's just say," he explained, "That we figured you wouldn't want everyone else to see you open this particular present. Happy sixteenth birthday, Peter." Peter slowly took the bow off and carefully peeled off the wrapping paper. He lifted the lid off of the box and looked down into the box with a slightly confused expression at a red and yellow 'S'. He reached into the box and pulled out a blue long-sleeved shirt with a red-and-yellow pentagon 'S' insignia and a long red cape. He set it down on the coffee table and his puzzlement turned to dawning wonder as he pulled out long blue-and-red tights, a yellow belt with a buckle that matched the chest insignia, and red boots. He set it all down on the coffee table and stared at it open-mouthed.
"This is…" he started to say. "I can't– you– how did you make all of this?!" Aunt May grinned and looked on the verge of tears as she stood up to give Peter a hug. Peter pulled her into his embrace and practically lifted her off her feet. He planted a great big kiss on his aunt's cheek and laughed as he set her down again. "A costume!" he exclaimed. "You made me a costume!" Ben grinned and laughed, slapping Peter on the arm.
"Well don't go telling the whole neighborhood," he teased, "Otherwise there was no point in us kicking everybody out." Peter smiled bashfully and blushed. "So you like it?" He asked. Peter nodded enthusiastically.
"I love it," he declared, "Once I make friends with the Fantastic Four, I'll make sure to ask Mr. Fantastic to make me a costume just like this out of those unstable molecules." Uncle Ben's face fell and Peter could feel all the air leave the room in a rush. Now Aunt May really did look on the verge of tears but for a different reason entirely. "I… I just meant," Peter stammered, "I-I'd hate for anything to happen to it…" Aunt May rushed from the room and Uncle Ben put a hand firmly on Peter's shoulder.
"Back porch," Uncle Ben muttered, "Now." Peter sighed and followed his uncle out onto the back porch. "How could you say something like that?" Ben demanded tersely. "All these months your aunt's been working on that costume, all the time she spent making sure it was perfect, and the second thing out of your mouth is that you can't wait to get rid of it?!"
"That's not what I meant!" Peter insisted hotly. "God, it was an accident! I just let it slip and it came out the wrong way, okay?!"
"That's the thing, Peter!" Ben snapped as he pulled at his graying hair. "You can't afford to keep making these accidents! One day it's the shoes, the next it's the U.N.!"
"You said you wouldn't talk about that!" Peter snapped back, heat rising in his neck as he loomed over his Uncle.
"Well it looks like I have to," Ben told him, "If that's what it takes to get things through your head! You've got great power, Peter, and I know you could do great things. But you've got to understand the responsibility that comes with that power!"
"I do understand!" Peter roared before he threw up his hands. "Y'know what? Why am I even listening to you?! You're just some guy who I got dumped off with after someone else picked me up in… in a field or something! You're not my dad, so why don't you stop pretending to be?!" Before Ben could say anything else, Peter crouched low to the ground and jumped into the air, taking off. He'd intended to just leap up but after about a minute of going straight into the air, Peter quickly realized he wasn't jumping anymore. He… he could fly! He threw back his head and laughed, all his anger forgotten as he whirled through the sky in loops and leaps. He could race The Human Torch, or Iron Man, or go… anywhere! Anywhere he wanted! As Peter looked up at the sky, he knew just where he wanted to go.
Up.
Peter put both fists forward and rocketed up into the starry night sky, the world ever-receding beneath his feet and he soon left all the sounds of Earth behind. For the first time in Peter's life, things were quiet. Even when he'd learned to tune out the things he didn't want or need to hear with his superhearing he could still hear a soft buzz under everything. But out in space, it was just… quiet. Peter hung there for a moment and looked down at the planet. It was so beautiful and blue, so… perfect. Then he turned back to the moon and smirked before he decided to keep going. He pushed off of nothing and flew faster and faster, the moon growing larger and larger until he landed on it with a great kickup of moon dust and the softest "Thoomp."
Peter Parker was on the moon.
He bounded lightly across its surface and stopped to salute the flag that Buzz Aldrin and Neil Armstrong had planted there. He kept walking for a while and wondered idly how long he could hold his breath. Then, Peter saw something he never thought he would find on the moon.
Another person.
He was gigantic, nearly three times Peter's size. He wore a white robe and a blue cape with a high collar. He had a gold medallion at his neck and golden gloves and boots. His enormous head was bald and his glowing white eyes studied Peter curiously. Peter quickly realized that this wasn't just a person. He was standing before The Watcher. And he was looking at Peter as if… as if he wasn't supposed to be here. He had read the articles and the interviews with Reed Richards about The Watcher and knew that if anyone could tell Peter where he was from or who his real parents were, it was the guy whose job was to watch everything. Peter took three steps toward The Watcher and, suddenly, found himself breathing. So apparently there were certain spots on the moon that had oxygen and an atmosphere. Huh. They never taught that in science class. Not only was Peter breathing, though, now he was hearing again. He heard… his Aunt May. She was screaming… and crying.
Peter completely forgot about The Watched and looked back toward Earth before immediately rocketing off, using his telescopic vision to guide him back to his Aunt and Uncle's home. He flew so fast that his body glowed orange on reentry, so fast that the friction made his hair catch fire. As Peter got closer he saw, to his horror, the flashing red and blue lights of police cars outside of his house. He hit the ground with a thud, sprawling out onto his stomach in the backyard before he staggered to his feet and stumbled in through the back door.
Peter walked through the kitchen and saw Aunt May sitting on the couch, her face in her hands while she wept hysterically and a pair of… police officers stood over her. There were blood stains on the floor and… and caution tape across the front door. Peter used his X-ray vision to look outside and watched two EMTs load a body bag onto a gurney. Inside the bag…
"No…" Peter whispered, "No… Uncle Ben." Aunt May heard Peter and sprang to her feet, running to Peter and flinging herself against him. Peter wrapped his arms around his aunt and let her sob into his shoulder, struggling to hold back his own tears as he spoke with the officers.
"What happened?" he asked coldly.
"A bank robber ran his car into a lamppost," one of the officers explained, "Tried stealing your uncle's car. Your uncle came out to see what happened and the guy shot him. Then he managed to hotwire the car and drove off. We're looking for him, don't worry." Aunt May let out a muffled wail against Peter's chest and he looked down at her and black waves of shame and guilt washed over him. If he'd been here…
Peter gently squeezed Aunt May's arm before he separated himself from her and made for the door.
"Hey," the other officer said, "What do you think you're doing, kid?" Peter ignored both of them, walking straight through the caution tape. "Hey! I said we're going to–" But Peter was already gone. Neither officer knew what happened. They'd just blinked and he was solid gone.
Peter hovered about half a mile in the sky over New York City, his eyes looking for his uncle's car and his ears listening for nervous mutterings and an erratic heartbeat. He tuned everything else out because nothing else mattered. Someone killed his uncle. It was all his fault. He had to make it right. He had to fix his mistake.
"Uh… hey there," said a voice to Peter's left. He turned and was surprised to see The Human Torch, Johnny Storm, hovering in the air next to him, a tail of fire trailing behind him as he folded his arms and looked at Peter curiously. "Don't really see a lot of fliers around here. You're new, huh?" Peter ignored him and went back to looking. Johnny Storm was not a man who was used to, or enjoyed, being ignored. "You– you do know who I am, right?" Peter finally saw Uncle Ben's car and a pair of police cruisers outside a derelict warehouse. He took off down to the streets below, knocking Johnny end-over-end in the air. "Whoa!" Human Torch blurted out before he recovered and tailed after Peter. "Hey, where's the fire? ...Aw, c'mon, that was funny!" Peter heard windows shatter and the asphalt rupture under him from the shockwave of his flight as he hurtled down toward the abandoned warehouse that he'd tracked the robber's heartbeat to and punched through the roof.
The crook had his money bag clutched desperately in one fist and the gun in his other hand, finger already on the trigger. He spun around when he heard Peter crashing through the roof. He immediately fired until the gun clicked, his eyes wide with terror as Peter advanced toward him unflinching with white-eye malevolence. He looked back and forth between Peter and the gun, his mouth hanging open.
"What the hell are you?" he asked in a horrified whisper. Peter glowered and slammed his shoulder into the man, sending him reeling and crashing painfully against the brick wall.
"I'm the guy whose uncle you murdered, you piece of garbage!" Peter roared. His eyes glowed and he wasn't sure what he might have done if Human Torch hadn't flown in through the hole Peter had made in the roof at that exact moment and put himself between Peter and the robber.
"Whoa, whoa, hey, enough! I think this guy's way under your weight class so you can just stop whatever you're doing." Peter glared at Johnny and moved toward the Torch, even trying to move around him. Human Torch glared and drew his fists back. "I said that's enough!" Human Torch blasted Peter with a high-pressure torrent of flame that knocked him backwards. Peter got up to his feet as Torch continued to blast him and brought up his hands to shield his face as he stomped forward. "Stay down!" Torch urged, raising the temperature of his flames. Peter took a few staggering steps back before he regained his footing and stomped toward Torch again.
"Get… out…" Peter growled as he spread his arms wide and pulled them back as far as he could, "Of my way!" He swung his arms forward and clapped hard enough to knock out all the windows in the derelict building before yanking them immediately apart, sucking all the air out and creating a vacuum that snuffed The Human Torch's flame. Peter jumped over Johnny Storm and went searching for the crook, who'd escaped during the fighting. Peter knew he couldn't have gotten far. With a quick sweep of his X-Ray vision, he realized that the guy hadn't even made it out of the building. Peter was in front of him in the blink of an eye and plucked him off the ground by the front of his shirt.
"W-w-wait," the robber begged, "Please don't hurt me! J-just gimme a chance, man! Just gimme a chance!"
"What about my uncle," Peter spat, "Did you give him a chance?! Did you?!" His hand moved to the man's throat and his eyes glowed white hot. "ANSWER ME!" But something stopped Peter before he could blast the other man's head to ashes. His heat vision faded away as he looked at him. His clothes, a pair of jeans, a heavy overcoat, and no shirt, were torn and ratted and stained. His shoes looked like they were the only pair he'd worn for the last five years. His sloppily-bleached hair was a matted mess and his chattering teeth were yellow. As he stared down at Peter with wide, terrified eyes, Peter asked himself if this man was worth killing. If ending his life would bring back Uncle Ben. If Uncle Ben would have wanted this. He realized that the answer to all of those questions was no.
As Johnny Storm groggily struggled to his feet, Peter ripped a piece of steel rebar out of the ground and wrapped it around the whimpering criminal before welding it together and tossing him at Johnny's feet.
"Take him down to the precinct." Peter muttered halfheartedly. "Robbery, Grand theft auto, murder." He started to lift off the ground and made his way for the hole he'd made in the ceiling.
"Hey," Johnny called up, "Where do you think you're going?" Peter shrugged.
"Home."
OoOoOoO
It was a long and miserable flight back to the Parker residence. The police were gone by that point and Aunt May had been waiting on the couch for Peter to come home. She ran to him and hugged him again and cried again. Peter looked down at his aunt's face and what he saw in her eyes would haunt him forever. Not her heartbreak or her grief, not her sorrow or her loss. Buried deep under all of that, so deeply that Peter might not have been able to see it otherwise… was blame. After they went to bed, Peter sat in his room all night and stared at the costume his aunt and uncle had worked so hard to make him. He looked down at the bright, shining red and yellow 'S' and flung it into the closet in disgust.
'How did I ever think I could be a hero?' He asked himself bitterly.
OoOoOoO
Stephen Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme, sat in his Sanctum Sanctorum in New York City and reflected upon how he had come to this point in his life. Once upon a time, he had been a callous and arrogant surgeon. Saving lives, to be sure, but not caring for them. Then he finally happened upon The Ancient One in Kamar-Taj in Tibet and appealed to him for teachings. Soon he became Dr. Strange, Master of the Black Arts. That was, until his fellow disciple Baron Mordo struck the Ancient One down, leaving a vacancy for the Sorcerer Supreme to be filled. Strange proved himself against Mordo, Victor Von Doom, and many others, to become the Sorcerer Supreme: the single-most powerful magic user in the universe. For several years now he had lived in solitude with his servant and friend Wong as his only company. That was until he found a young man named Khalid Ben-Hassin in Egypt two months back. Khalid was an archaeologist and fancied himself an adventurer-explorer like Indiana Jones. During a conflict with the time-displaced Pharaoh Rama-Tut (an awfully caucasian pharaoh that Strange suspected might be a time-displaced and amnesiac Victor Von Doom), Khalid found the magical artifact that Rama-Tut and Strange had been battling over, the Staff of Ra, and used it to help defeat Rama-Tut and send him back to the past. That was when they discovered that Khalid had a great potential for magic that rivaled his archaeological knowledge, and so Strange brought him to live in the Sanctum.
A sudden pulse of panic swept through Strange that shook him from his contemplations and made him leap to his feet and throw out his hands to gesture incantations. "I sense a great peril," he said to no one in particular, "And it requires a great force to defend against it! So I call upon my fellow Defenders!" In a blinding flash, The Silver Surfer, The Hulk, and Namor the Sub-Mariner were standing in Dr. Strange's study. Namor was dripping wet and looked furious.
"This had best be of dire need, Strange," Namor warned as he leveled his trident at Strange's face, "The King of Atlantis is not one to be summoned to your heel like a dog!" The Hulk snarled and pushed Namor's trident away, towering over him.
"Fish-Man no talk bad to Cape-Man," Hulk growled, "Cape-Man is Hulk's friend! Hulk smash any who talk bad to Cape-Man!"
"We shall see who does the smashing, brute!" Namor spat as he glared up at Hulk, his swagger undiminished. The Surfer stepped between them and effortlessly pushed the pair apart.
"Enough," he told them in a soft voice of cosmic serenity, "Let us hear why the good doctor has called us all to this meeting." Dr. Strange nodded appreciatively to his silvery stalwart.
"My friends," he said, "I have received a dreadful premonition from the Lords of Order and Chaos! We must leave the realm of men immediately to travel to The Dread Dormammu's dark dimension, for I fear he has a plot so devious in mind as to tear apart the very fabric of reality!" He gesticulated wildly and spoke an incantation that teleported himself and the others to the Dark Dimension. He only hoped that Earth would not be struck by some peril while they were away.
OoOoOoO
Half a universe away, Thor the Thunderer and Beta Ray Bill were up to their elbows in the minions of Surtur, bashing them aside with Mjolnir and Stormbreaker and cutting a mighty swath through the endless horde. Thor spied his brother, Loki, amidst the fray and rushed to him.
"Brother," he bellowed, "Yield now! I know twas thee that allowed Surtur's forces to bleed over into this world, yet thou must know that they shall fall before us! Yield now and help us turn them back and I shall see that father grants you mercy!" Loki threw back his head and laughed.
"You may yet win the day here, Thor," Loki agreed, "Yet while you stop the fire demon's advance here, who is to save Midgard should it burn?" He laughed maniacally and held out one hand, which gently cradled one of the Norn Stones. Thor's eyes went wide and his face contorted into a mixture of terror and rage.
"What hast thou done to Midgard, Loki," Thor demanded. "Answer me!" Thor swung Mjolnir viciously down but Loki dissolved like stardust and fluttered away.
"To me, friend Thor!" Beta Ray Bill called as he battered demons aside. "I know your heart fears for Midgard, but it will do them little good if you fall here!" Thor nodded and rejoined the fray. He only prayed, to whatever Gods may pray to, that beloved Midgard would stand against his brother's mad machinations until he could return.
OoOoOoO
Loki raised the Norn stone overhead as he stood atop the Empire State building and grinned manically while the stone began to glow bright. "Let there be… calamity."