Nearly one year ago,
Mac Gargan was on patrol with his partner Brent Morton.
"Mac, your kidding, right?"
"It's true! I swear." He said laughing
"You're a dumbass."
"We're on the same footing of dumbassery. Don't think I forgot you did the same thing!"
"That was like ten years ago.
"Try ten months at most." They both laughed.
Over the radio officers in their vanity called for backup. They responded immediately and zoomed towards the scene.
When getting there, people were under fire.
"What's going on," Morton asked getting to cover with two other officers along with Gargon.
"We got multiple shooters. SWAT was supposed to be here 10 minutes ago!" The officer replied.
Another officer joined in saying, "we were on portal and saw some sketchy crap, moved in, get the fire of hell raining down on us."
"We can't stay here! We're sitting ducks!" Gargon said. After he said this, an RPG was fired right at the four officers. They all had minor injuries. They used the opportunity to get somewhere safer. However, they continued to get shoot at. Morton took a shot to his gut from behind.
More backup arrived, however, SWAT was still nowhere to be seen.
"We have an officer down!" One of the officers cried into the radio. Gargon kept pressure on his partner's wound.
"Mac," Morton tried saying faintly before closing his eyes.
"No, no-no. Goddamit keep your eyes open. Your parents are going to be pissed if you die on me, you don't want that."
"Yeah, they would be pissed," He said faintly, attempting to get out a laugh.
"I hear the ambulance you're going to be-" Mac Gargon and his partner were shot by stray bullets before he could finish. The shooters started driving away, continuing to fire from the back of their vans and trucks.
His partner laid dead next to him, while he struggled to keep breathing, he saw three other officers in the same position as him. Ambulances and SWAT arrived a minute after the final shots.
Gargon was rushed to hospital with the events that just ocared playing over and over again in this mind. Along with memories from his nightmare of a childhood.
He recalled his crap dad. Yelling at him, coming him useless, that he would always be a failure. Sure felt like it was all true. He failed to save this partner. Couldn't save himself.
He laid in a hospital bed for a few days. Missed the service. Heard it was beautiful. Lots of cops visited during the recovery, all strangers.
It was difficult having the course of his life being changed forever.
He was forced on leave for a couple weeks getting psychiatric support to deal with any mental health issues.
It was simple to convince them everything was fine. Able bodies were needed. Mutations continued to rise with the population every year. Along with terror groups. Can't forget organized crime. Every year they also stepped up their game. Police had to follow. Therefore, as long as they got an officer who could get things done, that's all that mattered.
A few months after Gargon's partner was killed, he continued looking into the people who did. He was not a detective, so all his searching lead to nothing.
He was once more on portal. He had a new partner, her name was Jean DeWolff.
"Gargon, how much you want to bet those detectives are going to take to solve this crap. I give it a week of they don't drop the case first." She said to him while at a crime scene. It was a series of Grand Theft Auto that was the third to happen in a couple weeks. Multiple people stole a bunch of non-expensive cars in at the exsect time in the same parking lot.
"Na. It's an open and shut case. They have to be blind to not solve this." Gargon said.
"I blind person could solve it. They're the lest bright detectives in the department."
"I bet they'll screw this whole thing up."
They went back to their car and drove off to continue their portal.
"Hear about the drug bust gone wrong?" Gargon asked while Dewolff drove.
"I was at the briefing."
"I just heard at it a few minutes ago. Why did you not say anything?"
"I was hoping you wouldn't hear. No point in lying to you. It's speculated Silvermane's people were involved. The ones that ambushed you are the people suspected of hitting them. Thank god none of ours died."
"Yeah, thank god," Gargon replied passively-aggressively.
"People in the department thought you shouldn't know about it. I disagreed."
"Thanks. It makes me feel all warm inside."
"It's a rough subject, I know."
"You've never lost a partner. It's hard for you to understand it completely. I appreciate how much you torate from me. I can be a bit of jerk at times. What happened is not an excuse."
"Your right. If you opened yourself up to more people, maybe you'd be doing better."
He laughed. "Talking about my feeling wouldn't fix what happened."
"Of course not. Nothing will ever fix what happened. You have to live with it. Bottling it up will not help you. I don't know I'm not a shrink just read a lot."
"I know, thanks, Jean."
"We gotta look out for one another, you know?"
"Brent would've liked you. Not sure if I've ever said that before."
"You have a couple times."
"Right, I'm tired. I'm forgetting stuff, I guess."
"Why do you think I'm driving? I don't want you to pass out on the road."
"Your not serious, right?"
"Half."
"Shit. I'm sorry."
"It's fine. I trust you."
"No, maybe I gotta take a couple days. Putting your life at risk, not happening." He did this for himself as he felt his job was already at risk due to his performance continuing to slip. He couldn't admit this to DeWolff.
"Fine." She replied.
They drove around for the rest of the portal, not encountering anything of note.
Gargon went out with a fellow officer to get drinks after his shift finished. He wasn't close enough with DeWolff to go out someplace. Besides, she never drank.
He drove down to the bar to meet with his friend Katarina Jackson. With Brent gone, Katarina with the only other person that broke down the barriers that he built.
"About time. Thought you weren't coming." She said to him as he sat next to her.
"I'm thirty minutes early."
"Still don't understand jokes."
"Tired. I feel like a zombie. Most of it flew over my head."
"How about you feel like a zombie cause your drunk out've your mind? Drinks on me!"
"Why are you in such a good mood?"
"When am I not Mac?"
"More then, usually. Is that better?"
"I'm getting promoted to Sergeant!"
"That's great! You've been just climbing through the ranks."
"Yeah, well, I'm a good cop. In part, just excellent luck."
"Seems like a good reason to get drunk. I don't got to work tomorrow. Taking some personal days."
"Why?" She asked, taking a shot.
"Like I said. I'm a zombie." He replied, taking a shot with her.
"I work off no sleep and being an apparent near acholic. Look how well I'm doing. You're just too weak. Come on, man, you need to be stronger if you want to get where I'm at!" She ordered more drinks.
"Yeah, your right."
They drank for the rest of the night. They had a good time and took taxis home once they were kicked out for drinking too much.
The next day Gargon woke up with a massive headache, which was not a shock considering how much they drank.
For the first day, he was off, he sat around his small claserthobic apartment watching tv for the first day off. The second got more interesting.
Katarina called him early in the morning and invited him over. She wanted a second option on a case she was working on that she couldn't discuss over the phone.
She wasn't that far away, so the drive was quick.
When he got there, he just walked in as she left the door unlocked for him.
"Hey, I need some advice for this case. Not comfortable talking about it was anyone but you and my superiors."
"I'm not detective material."
"I don't need a detective. Crime Lord calls himself Kingpin of Crime. Bet he's got people on the take. Trying to take over the whole dammed underworld. Doing that would be devastating to the city. So what would you do if you were this nutjob?"
"I don't know. Kill the competition. Kill cops looking into me. And of course, take advantage of the raise of powered people."
"Yeah, I thought of that already. Thanks anyway. It's all good thinking, anything else?"
"Well, he'll want to hit Silvermane the hardest. Take advantage of that happening, maybe. I don't know. Just throwing things out there."
"Yeah, it's all good thoughts. If more people would pay attention to this guy, that'd be great. Nobodys on this guy. They just say he'll never be that dangerous. The last Crime Lord who threated Silvermane got taken out eight months ago. I suspect they're connected somehow. He's got the same resources. There explanations of course concerning how he got those, but it feels, I don't know."
"Sounds like your doing good work to me."
"It's career suicide. Some say."
"Taking on the mob?"
"Getting in the line of fire of Silvermane. All cops who go after him in any way pay a hefty price. One way or another."
"If you have a way of getting on his bad side. You take it."
"You're saying that because of Brent's death. He was my friend too. If we avenge his death, we're doing it smart."
"Can we go to Dewolff? I trust her."
"I don't know her. Therefore I can't risk letting her in. Just you and my superiors. Corruption can't go that far up the ladder surely."
After spending a couple more days on leave, he returned back to being on patrol with Dewolff.
"Had a good time off?" She asked as they started to patrol.
"It's was fine."
"Feeling more awake?"
"Yes. How about you? Everything alright while I was gone?"
"It was difficult not having you watch my back and vice-versa, you know."
"Thanks, Jean."
As they continued, they got a call about a bunch of criminals who were caught stealing cars. Backup was called due to how they were found. All of them were strung up by webs.
Getting there, they got involved in the clean up as the perpetrators were all ready taken away. People saw what they were up to so they were certainly getting to jail.
"What happened here?" Dewolff asked another officer.
"Some guy who calls himself Spider-Man. He's just popped up on the map recently. Some vigilante who's doing are jobs for free. No completes from me!"
"He's breaking the law technically. Still, appreciate back up in any form it comes in." She replied to the officer.
"I'm surprised you're okay with this," Gargon said to her.
"If he's stopping crime and not killing people, I see no problem with what he's doing. It's noble."
"Oh, right, forgot. He left a note too." The officer said.
"Said something like, "Some bad guys wrapped and delivered by your Friendly Neighbourhood, Spider-Man." Oh, also some bad jokes as well that I forget. Whatever, odd guy."
"Thanks, Abby," Dewolff said to the officer as she walked away.
"Guy seems a bit nuts," Gargon said.
"I think it's kinda sweet," Dewolff replied.
Five more months passed.
Gargon and Jackson got nowhere with the case into Kingpin. Whoever they are, they're intelligent and good with covering their tracks. That's all they could uncover.
"Did I tell you I meet that Spider-Man guy?" Gargon said to Jackson while they were at the bar.
"Yeah, you caught him with Dewolff stoping some crazy woman, right?"
"Forgot, I told that story."
"My memory is excellent. You're not so much. Or maybe you're dozy again. Jeez, you need to work out more. I don't know how you manage to be so tired all the time."
"How do you stay awake all the time?"
"Already told you numerous times. Not repeating it again." She started drinking heavily Gargon followed.
"I thought of telling Jean about everything again." He said with his speck starting to slar.
"For god's sake, man. Get off telling her we can't trust her, you dum dum." She replied, even more intoxicated.
They both continued to drink for the remainder of the night.
They both went home in separate taxis as they aways did it was just a typical night for them. The morning wouldn't be for Gargon.
He woke up, hungover. He could hear his phone on vibrate losing it. Picking it up Dewolff was on the other end.
"Mac, I've been trying to reach you. I'm sorry. Katarina Jackson was murdered. Apparently, by Spider-Man."
"What!? I was just with a few hours ago. This is a mistake."
"She died, that's all I know right now. Can you get down here? Already texted the address."
He hung up and drove down to the crime scene.
Officers were all over the place. When he got through, her body was already moved to the morgue.
"Mac," Dewolff called to him in a whisper not wanting to draw attention.
"I know where they brought her. I can bring you if you want." She said.
"How did she die?"
"Fell from the window. They say it was Spider-Man, but it feels wrong. She was heavily intoxcated."
Gargon ignored her while she spoke, looking around and up to where she fell from.
"Just take me to the morgue."
He approached her body slowly when getting there. Dewolff left him alone.
"I'm sorry for failing you. Should've known they'd relate against you. Whoever they are. I'll get them, I promise. I'll find a way to make sure your death was not for nothing. Thank you for everything. I'll never forget you, my friend."
For the rest of the day, he just went home and laid down in silence. All he had left on, his mind was revenge. The only who could be blamed at this time was Spider-Man.
A week passed. In that time, he encountered Spider-Man briefly and failed to bring him to justice. Since that time, he was put on leave once again. He refused to go to Katarina's funeral despite Dewolff's best efforts he wouldn't change his mind. Some part of him knew he'd regret it.
Along with this, he did not respond to the disaster that happened a couple days ago. Not like he'd get in trouble who'll know?
One day, while he was off a mysterious person came to his door.
"Who are you?"
"I've come to give you an opportunity that could help you achieve your goals of bringing the killers of your friends to justice."
"What are you talking about? And you still didn't answer my first question."
"I'm a respective of Wilson Fisk. J. Jonah Jameson has requested help from the public to deal with the menace that is Spider-Man. This was before he murdered your friend. With mister Fisk's funding a way to bring him to justice has been found."
"Haven't you heard? He's not responsible. Apparently."
"Well, we and you know that's not true. Most importantly, we are not doing anything illegal. My boss and Jameson wouldn't get involved in any unlawful actives. We're informed the police, and we told them we want you to be the one to bring him in. It's your decision, mister Gargon."
"I'll do it."
"Well, we'll have to give you a contract that states everything that could go wrong. You could die. Reading it before you make your choice would be-"
"Stop talking. Give me the dam thing, and I'll sign it. I've got nothing to lose."
"You'll have to come to the lab. I have a car waiting. I can bring you now if you want."
"Fine."
He went with the man to the lab without any care of consequences for the future.
The lab seemed small. But he never saw one outside of movies where they were aways humongous. Wilson Fisk was at the lab and introduced himself to Gargon.
"I'd like to thank you for protecting this great city, and I apologize for all your troubles as of late. My name is-"
"I know who you are. Can we get this over with?"
"Yes, I heard you wish to sign the contract without looking over it or inspecting the equipment that will be used on you. It's concerning."
"I have nothing left and nothing to lose. If I die, not really caring about that anymore."
"It could cause phycological damage. That could be worse."
"I don't care. I've got nobody. Do as soon as possible. Hell, today even."
"Earliest, we can do anything would be tomorrow. The risks would be huge."
"I'll be back tomorrow."
"You should see it before you leave."
One of Fisk's people brought showed them to the glass case that was holding the suit.
"What's so dangerous about that?" Gargon asked, puzzled.
"It's not just a suit. There are scientific elements that Dr. Stillwell could explain better then I could."
"What's with the tail? And why green? Black would seem better."
"A scorpion is a natural enemy of spiders. Therefore, that's what you must become to succeed."
"Fine, whatever I'll be back tomorrow," Gargon said, walking away.
"You can be driven back home, Mr. Gargon," Fisk called out to him.
"I'll find my own way back. Not too far."
"Get somebody to follow him back home. I want eyes on him." Fisk whispered to one of his people.
Gargon began drinking once he walked, and the door proceeded to do that until he passed out. He wanted to drink away any thoughts of changing his mind. Whatever happens, tomorrow would bring an end to the pain that he felt with any luck, one way or another.
The next day he went to the lab. As said, they were preparing to begin. Gargon could hear J Jonah Jameson yelling at Wilson Fisk about the project.
"I may not understand how all this sciencey nonsense works. I do know that this is insanity! How can you be certain this is safe!"
"Speck to Stillwell, he will explain."
"The man's a nutcase! This could go disastrous!"
"Then why have you thrown your full support behind this. You practically have started the project. You came to me about costs."
"I was given assurances that this would be safe! Rushing, the procedure is not wise from my understanding!"
"Do you want Spider-Man brought in or not?"
"Of course, I want that rotten menace taken in!"
"Well, Mr. Gargon appears to be here. Shall we proceed?"
Jameson ignored him and went to speak with Gargon changing his tone.
"Hello, officer Gargon. Thank you for your service." He said, shaking his hand. "I'm glad about having such a good officer taking the lead with bringing in that wall-crawling menace!"
"Thank you, sir. As I told your friends, I'm ready to get this done."
"We're not friends. But I do believe in what's being accomplished here as long as your safety comes first."
"Mr. Jameson, I've been weak, and people have died because of it. This is my chance to make things right. So one last time. Let's just get this started. Contracts signed. Nothing illegal here."
Jameson nodded and shook his hand again.
As Stillwell fired up the machine that would bind the suit with Gargon. The time is unknown to him. He decided to send Dewolff a voicemail in case he died here. He never told her any of what he was planning on doing it was likely she wouldn't want to work we him after his multiple lies.
"Hey Jean, it's Mac. I don't know what to say. We've been working together for about a year now. Still got no clue of what I should say. Don't know if this is goodbye. Hell, you could have been on this Kingpin's payroll for the time I've known you. So what does it all matter anyway? Perhaps I just see how the world really is. Whatever I'm done. I have regrets. I wish I could have been better than I am in every way. Maybe I've just completely lost my mind. Crazy, that's all that I am, a broken idiot who'll never do anything worthwhile. Maybe that'll change today." He hung up and got ready for it to begin.
Jameson and Wilson Fisk watched as Stillwell begin the experiment.
Gargon remembered what his father told once that was burned into his mind as the machines fired up.
"You're never getting to amount to anything being the way you are. Your fat, lazy, stupid and hell! You're uglier than my dirty ass! How can you be that way, Mac! Grow up and do something useful."
For his whole life. He knew his dad was a terrible person, but maybe just he was on to something. Perhaps he'd finally make him proud. Brent and Katrina would be. He'd make sure of that. His days of being a screw up were undoubtedly behind him. Right?
Hello, I hope all is well!
(Quick disclaimer cause it bothers me, his dad is a terrible person and stay away from anyone like that. I'm sure you know, but it just makes me feels dirty)
This has been a different chapter, as said previously. This was an idea that interested me because giving antagonists as much depth as possible is essential to me. I find making them human is good. If not, then make them so despicable that they gotta be taken down. I usually prefer the former personally. (Though of course they still need depth even minor)
So you all might have noticed this is, in fact, my longest chapter I have written as of yet. This is crazy as when I first thought about it figured it would be more on the shorter side. That, of course, is not the case now. Apologizes if you feel this brings the story to a screeching halt. Once more, I'm still new to writing, and I'm not certain if the story is good. I can only hope that it is, and I'll make it even stronger with time.
Also, apologies for a more depressing chapter. (At least I found it to be) (Wrote everything above in Oct/Nov)
Most importantly, Watch Mr. Robot. The show finished a couple of days ago, and I can't get it out of my mind. Hopefully, you will understand why, after watching it.
Also, Also, Also, Happy holidays, because I can't get anything out when I want it out.