AN: Okay guys, welcome to Responsibility. I'd like to thank everyone for continuing to read and follow along in this adventure. I've got a few things I'd like to say to clear things up for anyone with questions. I plan on making this thing a long, long story. I'll be following the Avengers storyline, adding my own contributions to it with a mix of Spider-Man comics plots to spice things up in the time between the movies. Updates will be fairly frequent, at least I hope so, but as I've never posted any of my writing before we'll just see how it goes. Another thing, no slash, don't have a thing against that type of story, it's just not what I prefer to write, and no harems, I hate those. I absolutely will not budge on that last one. Last thing is that there will of course be other superhero's popping up throughout the story, such as the X-Men or the Fantastic Four (Who will be younger than their comic counterparts, though they will notbe from the God awful Fox movie). And for those of you that ask, yes, this story was inspired by The Spider, but I won't be taking any of the I'm-just-trying-to-find-my-way's plots, nor will the relationships be the same as that story… Except maybe a thing with Sue Storm, because Sue Storm. Maybe, like I said, undecided. Reviews are always appreciated! If you have any preferences for pairings let me know.
AN 2:I am also aware the Shea Stadium was demolished in 2009 in real life, but, since this is my universe to mess with, Shea Stadium is still standing. Suck it Citi field, guess you'll just have to deal with your shitty parking.
…
Wait, what?
I rubbed at my eyes a few times and looked again. The building seemed perfectly fine, at least from this distance, so what was that? A memory? I shook my head, even if it was, it wasn't like there was much I could do about it, as it'd already happened.
Sighing, I started to make my way down the docks, only to stop shortly after. I looked apprehensively down at the mask in my hands, then back towards the New York City skyline. On one hand, I didn't want to put the mask on, it wasn't really mine after all, but on the other hand, I had the face of person who did own this mask, and he was probably wearing this for a reason. I hesitated for a few more moments before shrugging and pulling the mask on. Better to be safe than sorry.
The mask, I was surprised to discover, had a lot more going on inside of it than just some reflective lenses. The mask provided a simple heads up display, showing the date and time in the top right corner if my vision, I squinted at it, only for the the mask to zoom in, magnifying the rooftop of the warehouse. I blinked in surprise, and the magnification faded. I spent a moment playing with this to discover the black outlines of the mask acted like a focus for a camera. Huh, handy.
I jogged down the pier, working out a plan of action. First things first, find some clothes, I have a feeling walking around in this suit is going to get me more attention than I really want right now. Second, find a library, access to the internet is a must right now. Third, look up Gwen Stacy. I need to figure out who this girl is, if I can it might help me figure out the Original's identity. I snorted at that, out of all the memories I did gain, the name of whose face I shared was not one of them. Ironic, since I apparently shared his face.
I ducked into the nearest alleyway once I was on they city streets, losing myself in the maze that made up this metropolis. Every once in awhile I'd have to cross one through one of the streets and let me tell you, waiting for a light to change while your covered from head to toe in spandex is an experience. Most people waiting with me would give me weird looks, but nothing more. Some would stop to take pictures, which made sense, but left me feeling embarrassed, I needed some jeans stat!
After about half an hour of mindless walking I found what I was looking for. In one of the more open back alleys was a clothes donation bin. I sighed in relief, thanking whatever deity that took pity on me and made my way over. The big blue container was the type where you pull the handle, put the clothes in the compartment attached and push it closed again. Usually, the only way to get to the clothes is through a small locked door on the front, but with my increased strength I popped it open with barely a second thought. I felt a moment of guilt for stealing clothes that were supposed to go to the less fortunate, but the I reasoned with myself that I kind of was the less fortunate and I didn't feel that bad anymore.
After a bit of shuffling through I managed to snag a pair of jeans that fit relatively well, a belt, a snug blue hoodie with a spider sprawled across the right shoulder which I thought was pretty appropriate, considering what I'm wearing, and a ratty pair of red converse. The clothes fit over the suit well enough and after I took of the gloves and mask you couldn't even tell it was there.
Content with what I had, I tried to swing the door closed, intent on moving on, but was shocked to find the door had stuck to my had like it was covered in superglue! After shaking it a few times to no avail I stuck my foot on the side of the door to get more leverage only to find that go stuck as well. I was just beginning to panic when both my appendages came free, as if nothing had happened at all. I rubbed my hand in confusion, was this another power? I had to test. Going over to the alley wall I placed my hand on it and pulled it away, nothing out of the norm there. I placed my hand down again but this time I focused on how my hand felt when it stuck on that door. This time I felt the change, it was like there was a thousand microscopic spikes latching on the the wall through my finger pads. After a few times I had it down to instinct and I could switch it without so much as a thought.
I thought back to that memory of the original trying to pull himself up from a ledge. I hadn't thought much of it at the time but what if…? I looked upward towards the rooftops, the walls on both sides were shear without any form of handholds. I placed one hand on the wall, then the other, slightly higher than the first. I hesitated, then pulled myself up, placing my feet along the wall and started to climb. It was easy, almost as easy as walking, my confidence grew as I sped up the wall, nearly laughing to myself at the wonder of it all. I could climb walls!
Halfway up I stopped, then firmly planted my feet on the wall and lifted my hands from the wall. I sat there for a second, testing my balance and strength. It was a weird sensation, gravity trying to enforce its will on me as I crouched vertically along the wall. Slowly, ever so slowly, I extended my legs until I was standing straight, horizontal with the ground below. I tentatively lifted my leg, further testing myself. My muscles didn't so much as tremble. I walked the rest of the way up the wall, cresting the roof with ease. Though I hadn't planned on it, this new power of mine made getting around so much simpler, why walk the streets when you can take the rooftops? Less chance of getting stopped up here anyway.
I hopped the gaps without much thought, the distances nothing with my inhuman strength. I needed answers, and while most couldn't be answered until I got my hands of The Jackal there were a few that could be solved in a more mundane fashion. I needed a library. I followed my instincts, using the innate memories of the Original to guide me where I needed to go. Whoever he was, he knew this city like the back of his hand, small blessings I guess. Fifteen minutes later and I was crawling my way down the side of a smaller library, it looked a little rundown but it'd suit my purposes.
Walking in the library attendants didn't give me so much as a second glance as I made my way over to the computers. They were old, just fast enough to run the internet and an open Word file without slowing down to a snail's pace, not worth even the effort of stealing it, which I suppose was the point. That was fine, I didn't need them for anything strenuous anyway.
I flicked through a few windows until finally settling on a search engine and considered my options before finally deciding to type in 'Gwen Stacy". The first link on the page seemed to be a news article from a paper called "The Daily Bugle", the title read "Girl Dead By Spider-Man's Hands?". Spider-Man, that resonated with me, and I absentmindedly rubbed the spider symbol hidden under my clothing. I shivered at the rest of the title, a sense of dread beginning to well up in me, but forged ahead and clicked the link.
The article read, 'The Bugle is in shock today dear readers. While many of the Big Apple's atrocities can be linked back to the masked menace that is Spider-Man even we thought that the rogue vigilante couldn't stoop so low. Gwen Stacy, 16, daughter of NYPD's Captain Stacy, was declared dead today, many witnesses declaring that they observed Spider-Man holding the poor young girl's corpse as he swung through the city. The NYPD are refusing to comment at this time, as the case is currently under investigation but insider information tells the Bugle that the girl died from having her neck snapped in a violent manner-'
I stopped reading after that, I couldn't read it anymore. My heart beat hard in my chest and I was sweating all over. As the article went on it was like I could see it happen in slow motion. A bridge, the fall, the desperation as I shot a webline out to grab her, the snap… I jumped out of my chair and raced for the bathroom, throwing open an empty stall and voiding my stomach of all its contents. Even after my stomach had purged whatever had been in my gut before hand I continued to dry heave for the next few minutes as my brain flipped between confusion and grief. Logically, I knew I had no actual connection with this girl, that it was Spider-Man who had actually lost someone. I knew that, but my heart ached, and there wasn't anything I could do about it.
He didn't kill her, at least not the way that article portrayed it, he tried to save her, her death was an accident. But what was Gwen doing up on that bridge? Did she climb up there? Did Spider-Man bring her there? I didn't know. What I did know was that whoever she was to Spider-Man before, she was no longer of this world. Which brought me to my next conclusion, which made my blood run cold. If Gwen Stacy is dead, then just who is the Jackal threatening me with? An imposter? An empty threat? No, the Jackal seemed confident that I'd already seen Gwen before that little production he put on, so there must be some truth to his claims.
I pondered this for a bit in the stall for a while before deciding to come back to it later, there were too many unknowns at this point and not enough concrete answers. I tiredly pushed open the stall doors and trudged over to the sinks.
Scooping out some cold water, I rinsed my mouth and washed my face a bit. Wishing I could scrub the memory of Gwen's death from my memories just as easily. When I looked up from the sink, my reflection stared back at me. This was the first time I was getting a clear look at my actual face, so I tried hard to commit it to memory. My hair was a darker brown, but still light enough no one could mistake it for black. My eyes were a ice blue with small grey shards, akin to a crack in a glacier. My lips seemed to be in a constant frown, not shocking given the past few… Hours? Days? I didn't even know. Not that it really mattered I supposed. I looked about 16, maybe 17 if I was pushing it. Surprising, I felt older than that, but that may have just been the results of different memories clashing. I wiped my face off with a paper towel and proceeded back to my computer stall.
Sitting back down I quickly backed out of the article, I'd seen enough thank you. I quickly went over what else I wanted to search before I had to leave. My thoughts briefly flashed back to the building I'd seen and shrugged, might as well settle my morbid curiosity.
Apparently that skyscraper was more interesting that I previously thought. Stark Tower, owned by one Tony Stark AKA Iron Man, was due to be the first building supplied with one hundred percent clean energy thanks to something Stark had made called the ARC Reactor. I read through some of the non-classified specs of the reactor and was shocked to find I could follow along without any problem. Since when did I know anything about reactors? The more I read the more I began to follow along, basically it had to do with some new element that Stark had discovered about half a year ago which he'd named "Starkium" apparently he had tried to call it "Badassium" but the patent office had denied that name.
After a few more random searches I started to realize that while Spider-Man and I had powers beyond the scope of human capability we certainly were not alone. Super soldiers, Giant green rage monsters, and a guy with lightning sprouting from his fingertips all seemed to be the talk of the internet. I checked the time, five minutes to nine. I did a quick check and sure enough, most people were starting to pack up and leave. I quickly looked up the directions for Shea Stadium and printed them out, stuffing them in my sweatshirt pocket for later perusal.
Once outside it was just one quick walk up the side of the building for some much needed privacy. I took the directions I had printed out and sighed, turns out Shea Stadium was on the other side of Manhattan, just my luck. While jumping from building to building saved me some time since I didn't have to deal with traffic, it was going to take me quite awhile to get from one side of the city to the other. I pulled out the mask and gloves , if I was going to get to Shea Stadium in time I couldn't exactly be discreet. As I pulled the items out from my pockets one of the gloves fell to the floor with a distinctly metal Chink!
Curious, I picked up the glove off the ground and turned it inside out, surrounding the entire forearm just below the wrist were a row of connected capsules hooked up to a pressure trigger located at the bottom of the palm and a miniscule tube that protruded just above it, the device was small and out of the way enough that I hadn't noticed it when I was wearing them previously. I tugged the glove on and, with the use of middle and ring finger, pressed down on the trigger. A warning from that sixth sense I'd been feeling was the only reason I didn't get a face full of gunk when the stuff fired out from the nozzle. I released the trigger and the line cut off, falling to the ground with a surprisingly heavy thud. Upon further investigation, it seemed to be some kind of elastic rope, but it felt more like a steel cable. My mind flashed back to the memory of Gwen, a… webline, I think I/he called it, and didn't that article say "as he swung through the city"?
…
Oh, this is a terrible idea.
AN: It seems the "Old Parker luck" still affects our hero, even if he doesn't quite realize it yet. I hope you're all enjoying the story so far, I know I'm having fun writing it. I seem to be on a roll with these chapters so far, but that's probably because I already had this part of the story sort of planned out. Ah, well we'll see how it goes.