A/N: At long last, we get a classic Spider-Man villain! It took a second, but we finally get to... well, I shouldn't spoil it. TW: implied mass unaliving. Onward!

Issue Twelve: Shocking Debut

As Spider-Man swung through New York, he ignored all the gasps and snapshots below him as he considered his evolving situation. 'Yeesh, what a day! Pete comes back, we shake down Dopehead Brock, and Harry unloads his whole backstory on my lap. And, for an added bonus, somebody blew up a bank, I guess? Sure hope Manic Mondays don't become a thing…'

Finally reaching his destination, Spidey landed on a lamppost. The street corner was crowded, all eyes across the road and focused on Goliath National Bank… or the half-crumbled remains of it. "Whoa. Bye-bye, building. What did this?" Outside the bank, police and rescue teams were swarming the place, digging out people from the wreckage. Some of the rescued were coughing up dust as they were carried away on stretchers. Some… were not.

Looking at the senseless destruction, Spidey felt his blood boil. He didn't know if he should be angry at himself for the late arrival, or the criminal who did this! 'No,' Spider-Man thought, taking a deep breath to steady his thoughts. 'Focus, Spidey. Let's help who's here, then track down whoever did this.'

Settling on that, and shoving his emotions to the back of his mind, Sirius surveyed the carnage and wondered where to start. 'Let's see… I could hop around and help everywhere. Or, I could use the fact that I can see, hear, and smell 10 times better than everyone here.' Closing his eyes, the masked teen tried to filter out the sounds of the city.

Perking his ears, he tried to listen for any sound being buried in the noise. For two minutes, he stayed like that; ignoring the police sirens, car horns, and the chatter of the crowds. Finally, he heard something: incredibly quiet sniffling, muffled under a lot of debris. "Got ya!"

Leaping from his perch, he swung down to a pile of rubble where the bank's logo sat atop. Ignoring the police's startled surprise, Spidey crouched and peeked through the cracks of the pile. Normal human eyes might have missed it during the search, but the hero saw someone small in the darkness, curled into a ball and crying as the cement groaned over their head. "It's… a kid."

"Hey!" Spidey turned to see a lot of officers, standing ready to remove him… led by a stone-faced George Stacy. True to Gwen's words, he did not look well; despite being dressed in uniform blues, his eyes looked red, and his face unshavened. "This is a police matter, citizen! Remove yourself from the perimeter!"

Spidey looked at all the police behind the captain. "I-"

"I said move, citizen! That means now!" Stacy nodded to two officers, who did come forward-

"Wait!" Before anything else could be done, a police officer came forward and cut them off. "He's not just some civilian!"

"Officer Watanabe," Stacy gave her a tired but intimidating glare. "What are you doing?"

"Remember last month?" the now-identified Watanabe asked. "The night at the Baxter Building?"

Stacy winced slightly, something most everyone noticed, before returning to his stoic expression. "Yes. I… remember that night. What about it?"

"This was the man on my report." Watanabe pointed out. For some reason, that got a few chuckles from the surrounding officers.

"Oh right," another female officer jested. "Watanabe's goo-slinging rescuer. The one who took on… zombies, right?"

"The overdosed addicts, DeWolff," the young officer spat back. "You clearly only focused on the gossip of my report and not the letter."

"Whatever, so your little fantasy happens to be real," the new officer, DeWolff, retorted. "That doesn't explain why he's here now!"

The debate was interrupted when several thwips brought everyone's attention back to their crime scene interloper. Any questions about what he was doing gave out before they were uttered as police and New Yorkers watched in silent awe as the masked teen launched several strands of webbing to lessen the weight on the pile. "Oh no, please continue," Spidey quipped to the crowd of cops. "I'll just be over here saving this kid you missed."

Once he was sure the lines were secure, Sirius webbed the large sign and gave it a single tug. To everyone's surprise (including his own), the sign was lifted up with ease before he secured it by connecting the webline to a new strand. After that, he was able to pick up and shift the cement off of the pile. Right underneath it, the child was still curled into a ball, unaware he was no longer in danger.

"Hey, uh, kid," Spidey tapped him lightly, but he still jumped back and crawled away. The child's eyes frantically looked around, as he scrambled back until he bumped into half a wall. Spidey held up his hands. "Whoa, easy there, dude. I'm unarmed, see? 'Cept for these bad boys." The hero flexed an arm, clearly trying to calm the kid down. The frightened child looked at Spidey with watery eyes, still looking very confused about what was going on.

"Okay… It's the mask, right?" the teen hero asked out loud, more to himself than to anyone in particular. "Yeah, probably the mask." Turning back to the kid, he tried a new tactic. "Hey. Do you like superheroes?" The kid's expression does not change, but that doesn't stop Spider-man from talking. "Mine's gotta be Batman. 'Cause, ya know, even though he's scary, he always tries to help people."

The kid sniffled, some leaking tears cutting streaks through the dirt on his face. "…I like The Flash."

Internally sighing with relief, the hero took the opening. "Flash, eh? Neat! What's up with him?"

"…h-he's funny."

"Okay! Yeah, funny. Flash is pretty great!" Spider-man spread his arms out exaggeratedly, hoping to seem less frightening. It must have worked because the kid did let out a giggle, even though he still looked off-kilter. "Okay, so how about I get you out of this hole and we get you to your parents? You can beg them to get you all the Flash comics, and they totally will after this, alright?"

The kid paused at that, a small smile growing on his face. "O-okay…"

What happened next was a bit of a blur; no sooner had Spidey carried the kid out from the rubble, than paramedics ran up to check on the kid. The rescued boy didn't let go of of the hero's hand during the whole check-up. Eventually, two people whom NYPD identified as the parents rushed up and took their kid, tearfully relieved to see him. As they carried the child away, he looked back over his father's shoulder and waved. "Bye-bye, Goggles!"

"Ah, it's Spider-Man," the teen mumbled to himself, before looking down at his outfit. "Actually, I guess not everyone would get that. Maybe I should add a logo or something…"

A cough from his right drew his attention to Watanabe standing to the side. Now that things had settled down, Sirius was able to take in her appearance and, unless he was imagining it, she seemed slightly paler than when they last met. Also, with her cap off, he could see the white streak running through her hair. "So, 'Goggles,' was it? Is that the name of the kid I owe my rescue to?"

"I prefer Spider-Man," the teen corrected.

"Spider-Man?"

The hero shrugged at the policewoman's eyebrow raise. "Well, I considered ' The Amazing Arachno' but that made me sound like some spider-themed street magician."

"Dear lord." She shook her head at him. "Is talking to you always going to be so… this?"

"Yeah, you just gestured to all of me," Spidey said, sensing some deja vu. "Also, if you want me to be serious, you'll have to get to know me better!" The hero laughed at his in-joke, not that Watanabe was amused. Clearing his throat when he realized his humor was falling flat. "So… falling building? Like, what happened with that?"

"Are you asking me, a uniformed officer of the law, to give you, a vigilante, information about an active crime scene?" Watanabe asked.

A few sarcastic barbs came to mind at the officer's reluctance. 'Should I save another kid to show I mean business?' 'I could ask Captain Stacy. He looks like the kind of guy who likes having his time wasted.' 'What, do you want me to buy you dinner first?' But Spider-man stopped himself before any of those were said.

Instead, from behind his eyewear, he glanced at all the destruction around him. At the people in the crowd who looked lost or scared. At the victims who were still crying or in shock from the collapse. If he was being realistic, the injured were… probably the lucky ones.

… a 52-year-old male. Caucasian, grey hair, 175 pounds, 5'9"…

"Yes." The hero's gloved hand clenched into a fist as he spoke, but he relaxed it just as quickly. "Yes, that's… what I'm doing. I mean, people are – people already got hurt, didn't they." It wasn't a question, and he didn't need to look at Watanabe's face for confirmation. "And more people are going to get hurt if this happens again. If we don't… find who did this."

Finally looking back to the policewoman, he spoke in a softer tone than he had before, like he was afraid his voice would break if he spoke any louder. "If I promise to call in anything I find out as soon as possible as long as it's not, like... a situation where actual police like you would storm in on probable cause, can you at least share something so we aren't doing any extra legwork the other's already done?"

Watanabe looked at the vulnerable young man before her, looking him up and down quietly, before sighing. "Can't believe I'm doing this," she said to herself, unaware of Spidey's super hearing. Louder, she said, "I… may know some things that can help." Pulling out a PDA, she began reading off it. "Eyewitnesses report a man wearing a gas mask and a… puffy coat walked into the bank at 2:55pm. He walked up to the vault and blew it up."

"Blew it up?" Spidey questioned. "Like, with a rocket? Dynamite?"

"That's… where things get strange." Watanabe shook her head before continuing the report. "From what we can gather from… various conflicting stories, either he punched the vault or he… blasted it with a wrist-mounted cannon."

"Sorry, what?" Spidey blinked under his mask.

"Yeah, I have no clue. Technically, one witness reported he 'kamehameha'd' the vault door down. Nobody was putting that down on report." The officer muttered as she pinched the bridge of her nose, "Can't even smoke the same anymore, and I really need to…"

"Anything else?" Spidey prompted.

"Yeah, there's more," Watanabe answered. "Our super-human bank robber didn't bother to attack anyone. Several people claim he was brandishing his 'cannons' threateningly, but most say they heard him yell to 'get on the ground, I don't want to liquefy nobody.' He then proceeded to grab as much money as he could stuff into a bookbag, but failed to notice a clerk press the panic button.

"Units surrounded the bank, and negotiators were called, as were snipers. Guy panics and, according to a security guard, screams 'this had better work,' before he did whatever-he-did to the vault to the floor. Created a hole large enough to rupture the foundation, then jumped down with $500,000." Watanabe put the PDA away and, despite her earlier gripe, lit a cigarette and began taking a drag on it. "First zombies, now supermen? Sounds like a bad acid trip…"

"He, uh, missed the subway, right?" Spidey asked, waving some of the wafting smoke from his face.

"No subway below Goliath," Watanabe answered. "Just fell straight down, should have hit the sewers. Tunnel collapsed, of course, so no following him that way."

"So," the webhead thought out loud, "either it's an idiot with powers, or an idiot with a really cheap weapon? Wonder which one's worse…"

"Does it matter?" Watanabe huffed. "We need to find this guy. I'd like to live in a city without any more potholes on 5th Avenue."

"Any leads or idea where Mr. Big Shot popped off to?"

"None yet. Police sketch artists are caught up in traffic, so this could be an all-nighter."

"Sketch artists?" Spidey leaned on some of the moved debris. "You're telling me Goliath National Bank didn't have cameras?"

"No, but they are buried," she gestured all around them. "The on-site servers were crushed when the building fell down, and their main branch is dragging their heels on releasing the footage."

'So, there are back-ups?' Spidey thought. 'Five bucks and a ticket to Coney Island says Pete could get that easily.' Pushing that thought aside, Spidey turned back to Watanabe with a new idea. "Well, while you're waiting for the footage, let's sweep the sewers."

The young police officer gave the masked teen a strange look. "Sweep the sewers?"

"Yeah, like that old movie The Fugitive! We scour every inch of the sewer from 1 1/2 to 3 miles from here! Block every sewer grate with officers! Let loose the hounds! Like that." As he spoke, he gestured with his arms as if to paint the picture for her.

Even still, her eyebrow did not lower, nor did her face look break into awe. "First of all, you watch too much TV-"

"No such thing, but go on."

"…And Captain Stacy is already handling the 'scouring' of New York's sewer system. My job is to get those files." Watanabe sighed again, shaking her head. "Which Goliath won't hand over until they're absolutely sure they need to. And bureaucracy's on their side."

"Right…" the teen hummed and nodded. "Okay, well, in that case… I might have a way to get those files."

"Oh? And just what is this plan you're not shouting out loud like before?"

"I…" Spidey trailed off, scratching awkwardly at his cheek. "Can't say?"

"Why did that sound like a question?" Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "You're not gonna break into Goliath's HQ, right? 'Cause if you are-"

"I can promise you I am not going to break into Goliath," Spidey raised his hand as if making a pledge. "At least… probably not."

"Probably?"

"Wellgottagobye!" Firing a webline from his raised hand, the hero went zipping into the skyline, people snapping pictures in his wake. He headed towards Queens, and possibly the only person smart enough to pull off his idea.

…Which hopefully (maybe?) didn't involve breaking into a bank headquarters.

One railway ride to Queens and a quick change to civilian clothing later found Sirius entering Peter's Hideaway. Lifting up the secret hatch, he skipped the ladder and jumped straight down. "Hey, Pete! Aunt May said you went out, so I… figured you'd be…?"

The reason for Sirius' loss of words? Seeing Gwen and Peter working on something like a ray gun from an old sci-fi movie, pointed at a target on the wall. Despite Gwen having her back to him, she looked over and noticed him first. "Oh! Hey, Dog Star! Pete, Sirius is here."

"Wha-" The teen looked up, the sudden jerk of his body causing the tool in his hand to jab whatever he was working on, eliciting a click and gurgle from said project. "Oh no-!" was as far as he got before white goo exploded from the open compartment he'd been fiddling in, covering his face, and splattering the back of Gwen's head.

Pausing to take off his glasses, absolutely coated in what seemed like very familiar material, Peter looked up to Sirius. "Hey, Sirius! Come in! Also, could you grab that spray bottle and bring it over here?" He pointed with the hand that didn't have a screwdriver glued to it to the open train car and a blue spray bottle sitting next to his homemade microscope.

"Is that my webbing?" Sirius asked as he got the bottle and brought it over.

"Well, not quite-" Peter cut himself off to spit out – try to spit out the adhesive goop as some leaked from his hair into his open mouth. Sirius handed him the bottle, and he sprayed himself in the face. The semi-liquid dried up and flaked off, allowing Peter to spit out his mouthful. "Thanks."

"Hey," Gwen turned to show the mess of goop up and down her back and in her hair. "Mind a little help over here, too?"

As Peter squirted the clear chemical at Gwen's back, he said, "Anyway, as I was saying before, it's almost your webbing, but not quite."

"'Not quite?'" Sirius repeated as Gwen dusted herself off.

"Well…" Peter sprayed his glasses and began wiping them off as he explained. "Remember that sample of organic spider's silk you gave me a while back?"

"I thought you said my webs dissolved after-"

"They do, that's still true!" Peter smiled clearly getting excited. "B-b-but I recorded their c-chemical makeup, r-r-researched their chemical b-bonds, a-a-a-and-"

"Pete, breathe," Gwen prompted, patting him on the shoulder. "And slow down."

Taking her advice, the teen took deep breaths before the tremor in his voice steadied. "I… I'm okay. Thank you." Taking one more breath, he began again, "During the last month… I was at home with… only my thoughts and Aunt May. When I couldn't sleep, I was… inspired to create items and the like. To make New York safer. To… To help you." He looked away from Sirius, cheeks slightly red as he said the last part quietly.

"Okay," Sirius nodded, curious what Peter came up with. "What did you come up with?"

"A-ah, well… I wrote it down. Here." Peter got a notebook from his bookbag. "They're really not much. Just… ideas. Rough drafts. Nothing serious."

"Aw, I thought you were making them for me," Sirius joked, while Gwen looked through the notebook.

"Telescopic lens to lessen glare, suits for different terrains, and… wait, what's this?" Gwen gestured to a messy sketch of wires and nodes.

Peter scratched at the back of his neck. "Ah, that. Figured it was inconvenient for Sirius to have to pull out his phone while he's running around town. I'm… trying to figure out how to wirelessly connect his phone to a headset in his mask. I… er, just need to figure out how to not… like, blow up his head. But!" He rushed on quickly as the other teens' eyes snapped up from the book to look at him. "They are just, you know, rough ideas. Nothing I could do yet."

"Doesn't sound like nothing," Sirius smiled, lightly punching Peter's shoulder. "Peter, you should patent this stuff! Somebody'd be willing to buy this."

"Yeah… maybe in a few years," Peter's excited face deflated, hands stuffed in his pockets. "Patents are not cheap, and neither are the materials. The junk I scavenge won't cut it, and even the best parts in the Danger Room could maybe make only some of the ideas I have in there."

"Well, they are still good ideas, Pete," Gwen gave him a one-armed side hug as she handed the notebook back. "If there's anything we can do to help…"

"Gee, I don't know," Peter chuckled with a snort. "Got half a million dollars you can loan me?"

On the subject of money, Harry's expression of guilt reflexively crossed Sirius' mind for a split second. 'Should I…?' He paused, then shook his head subtly. 'No. Harry told me all of that because he couldn't bring himself to tell Gwen or Peter. They know some things about it, but until Harry tells them himself, I'd better keep quiet for now.'

Sirius shrugged, shaking off his inner monologue. "Maybe Harry's got some spare change he can lend us?"

"Asking Harry for a loan?" Peter winced slightly. "I don't know if…"

"Actually," Gwen clapped for attention before sitting in Peter's only chair. "That's not a bad idea." She smiled at the two boys. "It wouldn't be a loan, Pete. It'd be an investment. Whatever Harry gives, if you agree to make him a partner or investor, it'd be an equal share. Plus, no interest until you pay it back."

The two just looked at the victorious expression on Gwen's face in stunned silence. "Pete?"

"Yeah, Sirius?"

"Am I dreaming, or did Gwen agree with getting money from Harry instead of telling us it's a bad idea?"

"No. I heard it too." Peter paused for a moment. "Is this like that old movie, Invasion of the Body Snatchers? Do you think she's been replaced-"

"Shut up!" Gwen stuck her tongue out at her friends' absurdity. "It's called brainstorming! Just trying to make sure you two don't go robbing a bank or something."

While Peter was still laughing at Gwen's fair indignation, Sirius paused as her words reminded him of something. "Rob a bank-!? Crap!" Sirius facepalmed. "How'd I forget!? The reason I came here! Guys, have you seen the news?"

"Only thing I know is Dad's calling in a 'Pizza Night,'" Gwen sighed. "And on his first night back, no less. It's why I came over when Pete called about his project. Figured it beat staying at home alone. Why? What's happened?"

"Well…"

A/N: Beginning of Chapter: countless people are injured or worse, and we might never find the guy who did this...

End of Chapter: Sticky situations, and teens being teens.

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