Disclaimer: I don't own Spider-Man or any of the Marvel heroes listed here. It'd be utterly wonderful though. This is just my take on their lives.
Warning: Major Character Death. If you have emetophobia, you'll want to skip the middle of the document.
Trigger: None. Navigating The Curve
By Juliette Lyst
Hunter
Shortly after leaving the hostel, Peter took a detour through Theodore Roosevelt Park. Looking around at some of the people there, families or friends out for late picnics, he felt his teeth grinding together a little. How long has it been? He wondered. If he were honest with himself, he couldn't remember the last time he'd done anything with family. Heading to the footpath, he started a light jog, trying to find some privacy. He'd heard that there was mostly silence from the villains he typically faced. Was that true or was it worse?
When he worked at the Bugle, he had access to the newest and freshest news… or as fresh as they had to offer. Knowing how much time he had left until the 'festivities' increased his anxiety. Under most circumstances, Peter wouldn't be so upset to see so many people in his immediate vicinity. But… He needed somewhere secluded to change his clothes.
As he approached a section of the park that was more densely forested, he slowed a little to catch his breath. What was he running from really? No one even remembers what I look like. Nor did he look like his old self with so much hair growth.
So, what was the problem?
If he wasn't going to return to life as Peter, he wouldn't have cared. Then again - Peter Parker and Spider-Man were intricately tied. One couldn't be found anywhere without the other nearby. Would his sudden reappearance along with the webslinger tie them together? Did it even matter? I can't focus on just that… Lives could be at stake while he wasted time trying to wax philosophical about his life choices.
Deep down, Peter had known that the peace and quiet he'd grown accustomed to was not to last. Even if I wanted to stay back there, I couldn't have. He'd gone on the run again, but this time from a man who wanted his blood back in Pennsylvania. He couldn't have lasted much longer or gone too far without exposing who he was to protect himself. Sometimes, he wondered though if Missus Knott was safe. Her husband seemed far too much at ease with taking another person's life. Even if the shopkeeper played music on a radio, that was no excuse.
Letting out a soft grunt as he struggled to pull on the upper half of his costume, he let out a sigh as he managed to barely wedge himself back fully into the skintight material. I need to upgrade this outfit. He thought, placing his gloved had on a tree trunk. Can't be bursting out of my clothes.
No… that particular indignity was reserved for other individuals.
He twisted his upper body a little, hearing the seams creaking. Pulling his mask on, he stifled a laugh at the thought of needing some grease to slip back into his tight-fitting costume again. I'm glad I didn't need to lubricate all of this.
He didn't want to think what could happen if he'd needed to use butter and was in close quarters with a foe. He'd probably start cooking in his costume the longer they fought.
Quickly, he checked his inventory, ensuring that he had extra cartridges for webbing with him. He had never used the extra slots - yet filled them too. I hope this doesn't last long. Looking at his watch, he slung the duffle bag across his body and went straight up into the trees.
Pier Sixty - Evening
Otto grinned as he traversed a long hallway with Roderick alongside him. It was absolutely brilliant. Since he no longer had to deal with that meddling Spider-Man, he had time to endear himself to several of those who were powerful in this city. To combat the issues of superpowered beings rampaging in the city, the man formerly known as the villainous Doc Ock had become a local hero. His octobots had traveled far and wide, easily dispatching foes. He had been given a tentative pardon in the last month due to his heroism in the past few months. His health had also been taken into consideration, and he was allowed to serve his sentence on more or less - house arrest.
He'd taken the time to move his operation fully into the laboratory under the Kingsley Industries banner. He was in the basement of the building, which he hadn't minded. Now, Otto never had to worry about power outages or meddling reporters trying to spy on him and uncover what he was working on. Roderick's security was Top- Notch. There was no risk that someone would uncover anything or steal his ideas.
Roderick had been curious as to exactly what all Octavius was working on for his company, but he had turned a blind eye to monitoring all of the scientist's actions. He didn't want to risk losing his latest 'acquisition'. With his money and Otto's genius, he was going to be catapulted to the top in the technological field. He only knew of three projects Otto was working on, but was certain that the scientist had other plans as well. He had taken to the term 'a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.'
There was no way that he was going to dive deep into finding out what the ailing man was doing or planning. It was better that they were both on the same side. Ever the businessman, Roderick had pulled out all of the stops for Otto's "Unveiling". He wore a well-fitted gray suit with a blue kerchief sticking out from his left breast pocket. There was staff under his employ here for the entirety of the event. Food had been catered from his personal chefs for this.
He had to admit that he was curious as to what Otto was going to reveal.
"This all looks perfect, Roderick," Otto spoke aloud as they moved near one of the large windows near the front doors. Unlike the businessman, he was wearing a white laboratory coat and blue slacks. He did not need to pretend to be of importance. "I didn't think you would go to this extent." Otto chose his words carefully.
Time was gradually ticking down, and he needed to remain on the businessman's good side. He knew Roderick always preferred to have his ego stroked and had worked hard to do so. "Such extravagance," he shouldn't have been surprised though. Roderick had not risen to where he was by remaining humble. To be powerful in this world, ambition was needed. The all-consuming desire to be rich had been ample motivation as well.
"You could expect nothing less," Roderick buffed his nails against his suit jacket. Movers came in the door then, carrying large wooden crates with "Kingsley Industries" imprinted boldly on the front of them. "Yes… those will go over there." Roderick instructed the movers, remembering the specifications he'd gone over with Otto about placement of the machinery.
"Be careful!" He yelled, watching one of the movers nearly tip the biggest box over. The chastised man flushed red - in anger or embarrassment was anyone's guess - and scrambled to correctly arrange the shipments. Soon, everything was going to be set out where it belonged.
"Understood." Otto spoke simply, however his eyes seemed huge behind his thick frames. His terrifying gaze would have made many feel weak in the knees. Most notably, after the near slip of the mover, he kept his attention on the man. "I can handle it from here." He said, lifting himself from his wheelchair with two of his mechanical arms. The mover stopped in place, afraid.
Few had seen the scientist rise out of the wheelchair like that. Gradually Otto knew that his physical presence, one of vitality, was being replaced with a shell of a man. He hated his wheelchair with a passion. He remembered when he'd been able to easily walk and felt such disappointment in his own body at how it was failing him.
"Otto…"
The scientist shook his head in response, and Roderick threw up his hands.
What could he do to stop Octavius really? "Please be careful." It wouldn't do for Otto to overwhelm himself and aggravate his condition. "Remember what we learned at the last visit."
The last doctor's visit hadn't gone well. The damage to his heart was worsening, necessitating he take breaks during the day to rest. Roderick hadn't been able to physically make Otto stop working, which he was sure was accelerating the scientist's decline in health. He also knew that it was wise not to bring it up in such a public place.
In the middle of work to pry open the first box, Otto frowned at Roderick. He didn't want to be reminded. Having someone constantly telling him that he needed rest and surgery was just - painful. "What good would tonight be if the main displays were irreparably broken?" Otto reasoned, not wanting to think more over anything aside from his exhibit. He had ulterior motives for the evening as well. The mover stepped back as Otto advanced to the boxes and began opening everything. The truth was, the scientist knew he was running out of time too. If tonight's spectacle failed before it began…
Pier Sixty - The 'Unveiling'
Peter found - much to his glee - that there was no traffic between the park and Pier Sixty tonight. It was a neat place too, right by the water. Traffic didn't normally bother the wallcrawler anyway, but tonight he was trying to be inconspicuous - leaping and climbing from building to building. The distance wasn't that far from Manhattan… Something he was very happy for. Less traffic on the streets meant less chances for people to see him. Securing his duffle bag in the trees, he leapt onto the roof of the popular venue.
Usually, people used Pier Sixty for parties or as a wedding venue. Tonight… was supposed to be special. As he leaned down to look in one of the windows, he saw Otto speaking to various reporters. The local news stations all had a vested interest in how the scientist had made such a sudden change from supervillainy to becoming one of the most loved - and trusted men in town. There were plenty of cameras rolling and Peter even recognized Jameson there with one of his employees. He didn't recognize the young man at all though.
"This discovery is going to change the way we view travel and its effects on the human body!" Otto stated, likely responding to a question he was posed. Ock was set on an elevated platform, with plenty of space for those around him to observe. A tall steel chamber was placed right near the stairs of the platform. Between it and Otto was a long table. A device that looked much like an oversized helmet was seated in the middle of the table.
Sitting in a motorized chair, Otto backed away from the reporter to an opposite end of the table.
Another reporter was there, microphone at the ready. She'd been close to stepping up on one of the stairs to speak with Otto, so he obliged by rolling closer to her instead, his seat swiveling around.
"Doctor, you say that you are here to introduce us to a new method of travel," she began. Her brief pause was to ensure that her next words would not be misinterpreted. Swallowing, she continued.
"However, we already have established methods. Automobiles and public transportation are primarily used by the masses. There are airplanes and jets. And we've known about technology that promises teleportation for the last two years."
Otto listened patiently. The beginning of the conversation almost sounded like one he'd have with Roderick.
"What makes yours so different?" she continued. Her expression was open and displayed genuine curiosity.
At that, he grinned and leaned close so she could hear what he had to say. "My dear, the difference is what you will see tonight. I promise you; it is revolutionary. Teleportation will be a thing of the past. Nary a glimmer in memory shortly."
Seeming satisfied, the reporter stepped back away from the platform.
"Are all of these devices safe?" Another reporter asked. The man's identity badge moved in time with his gesticulations, which were just as animated as he. "We know what you're promising, but not the science behind it." He stepped a bit closer to the raised platform Otto was on. "Have you had it independently studied?"
Instead of the violent outbursts that Otto had been known for in the past, the scientist sighed and adjusted his glasses before responding. "I assure you; the machines are perfectly safe."
Having slipped in the door without alerting anyone, Peter secured webbing to the section of ceiling he was attached to and got ready to swing down. It was now or never. "He's lying!"
The sudden shout astounded the news reporters. One of them cried out in surprise as a very familiar form swung overhead. Cameras turned and multiple flashes began to go off as everyone's attention was diverted from the scientist to the masked webslinger.
Nearing Otto, Peter let the webbing go. Executing a perfect backflip, he landed on the ground in front of the scientist. Everyone was shocked at his quite literal 'appearance' out of thin air. "Whatever you're up to, Doc, I'm here to stop you."
Otto spread his hands out, flexing his gloved fingers. Using the four tentacled arms attached to him, he lifted himself out of his wheelchair. "I swear on my honor, this device is going to help others." The last thing he needed was Spider-Man of all people stopping him. Not when he was so close.
"As an ex-jailbird?" Spider-Man shook his head. "It's a shame really… Having to trick others to fall into your traps." Otto kept his gazed fixed on Spider-Man as he 'walked' closer. Between them was the Muxponder.
The younger hero was backing away from Otto, unsure what the scientist had up his sleeves. Then, he noticed the man had a remote in his left hand. Peter stopped backing away. He was being herded in that direction. Without warning, Spider-Man found himself having to dodge when Otto attacked with one of those arms.
It wasn't an outright assault. It was as if the scientist was trying to shove him in a direction that Peter did not want to go into.
The reporters and other media personnel began fleeing the area as the fight broke out. Kept safely below the surface at first, Otto felt his anger beginning to boil over as his hard work fell apart before him. His goal had not been to have an encounter with Spider-Man. His teeth began to grind together, the tendons in his hands flexing. This was going to be the last time he had to deal with this meddling pest! He purposefully lifted both hands, pressing a button on the remote.
Alarm bells suddenly went off in Peter's head as Otto pressed the remote. An attack was coming, but from where? All at once, Peter felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. Against his better judgement, he leapt towards Otto. His leap wasn't as far as he had hoped, as he felt his feet being dragged right from under himself. He wasn't sure, but he knew that something behind him had awakened.
Aiming at the ceiling then, he fired the web shooter. Feeling when webbing met its target, he grasped it and yanked hard. The force used pulled him up and over only for him to come down and kick Octavius in the back.
The impact caused the scientist to drop the remote. Despite the fragility of his dying body, Otto struggled to grab it with his left hand, his reach not enough. The remote bounced twice away from him
only to be drawn right to the open cylinder that Spider-Man had just been standing in front of.
That thing is manipulating gravity… The webcrawler realized. Or something was at work. The sleek remote continued to be pulled to the open door.
"No…" Otto yelled, digging two of his robotic arms into the ground and shoving himself toward to try and grab the remote, sinking his robotic 'arms' through the platform to hold himself in place.
Spider webbing shot right past him and grabbed it before he did.
Angered, he looked up in alarm to see Spider-Man holding the remote. "Give that to me, Spider!"
"I don't think that's the best ide-" Before he could refuse, Otto had launched himself up at Spider-Man to engage him. Suddenly ripped out of the air, Spider-Man found himself slammed right into the ground by Otto's robotic arms. Once, then twice. Parts of the wooden platform cracked - then shattered from the force of the impact, shards of wood flying everywhere.
Otto leaned down over the fallen hero. He applied the extra weight and the pressure of his tentacled arms on him, listening with satisfaction as more of the platform fractured. Lifting Spider-Man once more, he forcefully slammed his nemesis into the body-shaped indent left behind.
"Drop it, Spider…" Otto snarled, trying to squeeze the masked hero.
Spider-Man unerringly opened his hands as he struggled to keep himself from being smothered to death by two of the tentacles. The remote had been crushed inside his grip.
"You fool! You don't know what you've done!" The reality of the situation they were in overcame him and he picked Spider-Man up, slamming him back and forth into the platform. He broke through it, damaging the floor underneath. "Now there is no way to stop it!" It doesn't matter anymore.
There was an ominous hum coming from the chamber as the quantum fueled security field installed inside of it became unstable.
Otto felt his heart beginning to beat irregularly, the sudden pain a few seconds later slapping him with the reality of the situation. He had to get that new body… today. The one he had in mind wasn't even in the building now.
Spider-Man moaned from where he lay, seemingly clinging to consciousness.
"Never…" Otto swallowed. "N-Nevermind." A body just happened to be available, and he wouldn't have to find someone 'suitable' for this. He had never tested his new inventions on a living being, but there was no time for it now.
Otto lowered himself to the damaged floor on weakened legs and grabbed the Muxponder. Turning to Spider-Man, he stalked over to the hero, intently. "My new body will be a wonderful one," he muttered. "Young and strong." He reached down to place the device on Spider-Man's head, only to have the hero grab his wrists.
"Aww, but I don't want my present now!" the masked hero quipped.
Two of Otto's tentacle arms grabbed Spider-Man by his forearms and forcefully splayed his arms apart, lifting him up off the ground.
That broke Spider-Man's hold on the scientist's wrists.
Otto's two other metal arms elevated him to Spider-Man's level, extending upwards.
"You, don't have a choice." Otto was panting, sweat running down his face.
The webslinger struggled to twist himself away.
Otto smiled in triumph as he reached up to place the Muxponder on Spider-Man's head, fastening it in place. His time was at hand! All he had to do was enter the commands…
Realizing his wrists were free, even if his arms were not, Peter aimed his webshooters at the wall behind them and gave the webs a hard yanked when he felt the webbing connect.
Otto noticed too late that they had left the ground entirely. He lost his grip on the helmet as Spider-Man hurled both of them headfirst towards the opposite wall, then abruptly changed the trajectory with his webs, both of them hurtling towards the open chamber door at terrifying speed.
The security field fully collapsed on itself; the former white mist inside having taken on a swirling and sparkling pattern often seen in space. It had extended out of the chamber, much like a thick fog.
Otto started screaming, in a mixture of fear and pain, having lost his glasses during the sudden flight. His bloodshot eyes stared into Spider-Man's. The scientist grabbed his chest, the veins bulging in his eyes before he began choking, blood bubbling up from his mouth. His eyes began to glaze over.
Without their master consciously controlling them, the metal arms relaxed their grip and let Spider-Man go.
Startled and frightened of what was happening to the Doc, Spider- Man tried to slow them down before impact. With his right hand, he grabbed onto the front of Otto's shirt, the left firing spiderwebbing towards the opposite wall. He watched it, almost as if it were traveling in slow motion. He wasn't going to make it. He felt Otto's body jerk, and as he looked down, his eyes grew wide as the new 'field' began to dissolve Otto.
Electricity surged and rippled around them, tearing through the scientist's chest.
Thankfully - the 'former' villain was unaware of this… or so he hoped.
"No. Please! No!" Peter yelled at the top of his lungs as the limp body of Otto Octavious dissipated through his fingers, like fine dust. "No!"
The electricity overloaded the chamber, and to all that were present outside the building, it exploded - the shockwave shattering all of the nearby windows.
Peter felt himself without warning hurtling through a shining blue corridor, electricity swirling around the device strapped to his head. He jerked; his muscles contracting in response to the stimulus. Suddenly, he found himself being spun around. Everything was going faster and faster until all he saw was bright light. It was so blinding, that he lost the ability to see in front of him.
When his vision returned, the masked hero abruptly found himself hurtling towards the ground. His words were choked as he noticed on his descent that there were no buildings or skyscrapers to be found. Peter could see his own demise coming. Is this what Ock felt like? The question came unbidden. Where was he? How could nothing be there?!
His athletic body twisted around, and he flailed in the air, trying to slow his plunge. There was no time for him to build a parachute! No time for - ! He was out of time. Is this what death is like? He wondered as he slammed into the unyielding ground and saw only darkness.
Pier Sixty - Present Day
Silence dominated the area for several minutes before the sounds of police sirens could be heard in the vicinity.
Soon… Several of the news reporters were talking amongst themselves. Some of them had blankets wrapped around their bodies.
Jameson was seated ona gurney, drinking from a cup of water offered to him.
Some of those closest to the building had sustained injuries from flying glass.
Fortunately for the older man, all he sustained was a cut on his forehead. He couldn't believe what he'd seen. Spider-Man and Doctor Octavius fighting - as if no time had passed at all since they'd last seen each other. Was he a fool? Were all of them… fools? He peered over at the other reporters.
Some of them were interviewing each other about what they had seen. Was the good doctor trying to deceive all of them? Was Spider-Man gone for good now?
What was he going to put on the front of the Bugle? The young man he had with him today was speaking to a police officer, a camera hanging around his neck.
In the wreckage of the platform, nothing was salvageable… save melted metal. The table, cylinder and even the doctor's chair had all been destroyed in the explosion.
There was going to be an investigation… Who's going to run the story first? Jameson nearly jumped off the gurney. He had to get it done. He could see the headline in the Daily Bugle the next day. "SPIDER-MAN VERSUS OCTAVIUS - THE END" Ever focused on work, the older man looked to the EMT treating his forehead. "What are the chances that I can head off?"
The EMT paused, blinking a little. Then, she smiled faintly. "Soon enough, sir. You'll need to head to the hospital for stitches." her words broached no argument. "Then, if everything checks out, they'll send you home."
Sighing, Jameson nodded.
"Get my assistant over here." He pointed to the young man who was still exchanging words with the police.
Off her offended look, Jameson softened his tone.
"Please. I need to talk to him for a few minutes before we leave. It's for work."
Understanding filled her eyes, and she turned to walk over to get the young man's attention. J Jameson sighed. If he couldn't run the story himself, he was going to have to trust the kid to do it.
Somewhere Out There - June 25 nd
Water splashed out of the faucet, swirling down the drain. A young brunette cupped both hands under the water and ducked her head down to splash her face. The shock was enough to rouse her flagging energy reserves. Coughing a little, she grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and wiped her face, before turning the faucet off.
The stark white of the tile walls around her seemed to suck away what little joy she had in her life. She hated being here. Straightening up, she adjusted the employee shirt she wore. The brand logo for Applebee's was on the left breast of the black shirt. She moaned a little at the slight headache that still lingered. Five hours remained in her work shift. Can I make it tonight? she wondered… unsure. She stared at her reflection.
Brown eyes rimmed with dark circles stared back at her. She was so tired . Her long black hair was gathered up into a messy ponytail. Feeling a little dizzy, she gripped the rim of the sink with one hand, pressing the back of her left hand against her forehead. Not good. Just as she was trying to consider taking off early, the bathroom door flew open. She jumped, startled.
"Jess! Come on! We're getting swamped out here!" Her coworker called to her.
Instead of responding, she turned away from the sink. She stumbled, and her suddenly wide-eyed coworker grabbed her by the shoulders.
"Hold up! Are you okay?"
Not speaking, she smoothly pulled herself free. The movement made the dizziness worse, but she tried to ignore it. "You said we're swamped, Becca." Jess swallowed hard, using her hands to steady herself against the doorframe. Hyper-aware of her breathing, she tried to ground herself. "I j-just needed a moment is all."
Concerned green eyes looked down at her.
"Promise. Let's go, huh?" Pushing away from the door carefully, she was happy to find that her sense of balance was back. She still was unprepared for the loud noise near the front. She grabbed her notepad and pen and looked to Becca. "What's happening tonight? Isn't it usually slow?"
Becca shrugged, blowing a bubble with the gum she was chewing. It was a nervous habit. "Some big game just finished up. The winning team came in." She rolled her eyes.
Jessica let out a short bark of laughter. Just what they both needed tonight!
It's not so bad… Jess thought to herself. "Should make the time pass faster!" A sudden yell was heard across the restaurant, followed by the sound of a crash and a slew of profanity.
Jess pulled a face. As bad as she was feeling, she did not want to deal with that.
Noticing and seeming to understand, Becca spoke up.
"Don't worry, Jessica. Just take some of the orders opposite the front. I'll go see what happened." On the way, she grabbed a dustpan and broom.
Shaking her head lightly at Becca's retreating back, Jess plastered a smile on the face and moved to serve the newer patrons sitting down. "Good evening," She began. "How can I-"
The seated woman didn't give her time to finish. She'd actually put her hand up to silence Jess. "I'm not in the mood for small talk," she snapped. The customer held up her menu and proceeded to look at it. "Don't say anything. Just… stand there and wait for my order."
Blinking a little and starting to feel annoyed, Jess cleared her throat lightly. "I'll be back ma'am." Not waiting for the customer to continue further, Jess went to the very next table for their order. "Sir… how can I help you?"
The young man there smiled and was about to respond when the woman from the previous table stalked over to his table.
"How rude!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. "I wasn't done giving you my order! How hard is it for you to follow simple instructions, hmm?"
Jess bit her bottom lip hard, trying to keep herself calm.
"All you have to do is wait for me to give you my order! What part of that didn't you understand?!" she continued.
Jess didn't want to get upset. She looked away from the yelling woman, beginning to feel distressed.
"Just what I thought! If you weren't so stupid and useless, you wouldn't be working here!"
The cruelty was uncalled for. A kernel of pain began to grow in the young waitress. This customer didn't know her at all and was treating her like she was worthless. That's what I wanted, right? Anonymity? I should have been careful for what I wished for. She mocked herself mentally.
"Excuse you!" the man at the table replied, rising up out of his seat to face off with the screaming woman. "Just who do you think you are?!"
Jess ducked her head down, visibly uncomfortable with the exchange. She had to get out of there…
"This is none of your business!" the woman responded hotly. "This is between me and this little twit here!" She got even closer to Jess, clearly using her size to intimidate. The young woman clasped her notepad to her chest and stepped away. She needed to put distance between herself and the customer before something bad happened.
"Come back here! I want to see what your name is!"
Now, Jessica felt her heart beginning to pound with anxiety, and she walked faster. Just what was this woman going to do to her? Groaning, she grasped the side of her head… the pain getting
worse. She swung between irritation and fear. Irritation at the woman and fear of what was happening… and how powerless she was to stop it. She hated feeling so helpless.
Unsteadily, she made her way back to the bathrooms.
Becca was near the bar, and noticed her immediately. She opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by the rude customer… who was still following Jess.
"I don't take kindly to this kind of treatment!" the woman screeched at the top of her lungs, her face red.
Jess on the other hand was beginning to look sick.
Intervening, Becca ran over, stepping in front of her colleague and straightened up to her full height. She was half a foot taller than Jess
and that was more than enough to deal with the customer head on. "How can I help you, ma'am?" She maneuvered her body in the way to block Jess from view. She wasn't able to find out anything from the customer then, hearing more shouts near the front of the restaurant.
Even the customer was distracted.
The appearance of the man at the door had left everyone shaken. From the bright red boots he wore, all the way past the blue tights and to the recognizable spider emblem emblazoned on his chest. He was grasping a burnt helmet that had seen better days in his left hand and the right half of his mask was missing.
"El diablo!" One of the patrons there exclaimed in shock.
Everyone had watched the funeral last month. They all knew that the man standing there was dead. Or was he?
Applebee's - Front Entrance
The confusion that he felt after entering the Applebee's was profound. People shrank away from him as if… Just where am I? Peter wondered in ever growing alarm. Why were people acting as if he shouldn't be there… like they were afraid of him? Yes, he wasn't supposed to be right there, but judging by the reactions…
"Hey!" A young woman with dark brown hair and green eyes met him as he walked past the people seated at tables. "What are you doing here? How is it even possible?"
The general atmosphere was thick with tension.
Not for the first time, Peter Parker's presence was met with suspicion and fear. This time, he hadn't done anything to warrant it. At least… he didn't think so.
"I…" he paused and cleared his throat. "I came in for something to eat." It was the only thing he could think of off the top of his head, and he was hungry. Thankfully, he had his wallet on him. Otherwise, he would have some serious problems.
The waitress was about to say something. She looked away from him a moment, her eyes rounding as she noticed something he couldn't. Darting over, she gripped the shoulder of another dark- haired woman. The woman was clinging to the wall just past the bar, bent over at the waist. The waitress ducked down and carefully pulled the shorter woman's arm over her shoulder to help her balance.
"I'll be back." Becca called to him. She had to shake herself. It didn't make any sense at all. He had the same eyes though…
"What's happening?" Jess asked, her vision swimming. The floor was moving, or so it appeared to be.
As they headed to the bathroom, Becca paused a moment… trying to gather her thoughts. It was simply too fantastical, and she doubted that Jessica would believe her.
"An imposter." she stated blithely. She knew how hard it had been for Jess when the real Spider-Man had died. Her friend had been almost inconsolable for two weeks! At the time, she had plenty of questions, but hadn't spoken out of respect for her friend. What she could see of the man's face had been consistent though… mostly. Except that beard. How was it possible? Everyone had seen his funeral broadcast on the television!
"Is that all?" Jess asked. "Ohh my head…" she moaned, hearing her pulse pounding in her ears. Her stomach, already upset, had begun to violently churn. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she groaned and pulled Becca with her to the bathroom stall. Scrambling inside, she dropped to her knees and vomited profusely. She half missed the bowl on the way to it. Shaky hands grasped the cold plastic of the seat. She hadn't been able to even lift the seat.
Tears followed that, a heartbroken sob wrenching its way from her throat. It was becoming too much - the constant pressure and never- ending stress. She could not continue like this. She felt a hand on her back then, rubbing soothing circles to comfort her.
Becca slipped into the stall with her, offering support.
Jess felt her hair being pulled back as she continued to empty her stomach.
"I think you need to go home tonight, Jess." Becca said quietly, once she was sure that Jess was done. She helped her sick coworker stand and reach the sink. "I'm worried about you."
Jess shook her head, not wanting to speak just then.
"You need to go to the doctor, Jessica." Becca studied the petite brunette as she rinsed her mouth out. "How many times is it now this week? How often are you getting sick?" Becca started counting in her head, fortunately missing the alarm that suddenly filled Jess' eyes.
"It's just this headache…" Jess managed to croak and rinsed her mouth out again to remove the bitter taste of bile. She let out a disgustingly deep and wet belch then, and found herself dry heaving into the sink immediately afterwards. She clung to the sides of it for dear life, feeling herself lose muscular control in other areas. She squeezed her legs tightly together then, worrying about more than losing the contents of her stomach. Thankfully, the sickness finally lost its grip, and she felt calm returning. Again, she gathered water in her hands to splash on her face.
The waitress always got so upset when people were screaming and yelling in her face at work. Who wouldn't be? To her though, the effort to control her own reactions made her physically ill. She still looked a bit ashen and green around the gills.
Soundlessly, Becca handed her a few paper towels so she could wipe her face off.
"N-Nothing more."
"Jess, you're going home."
Shaking her head again in denial, Jessica tried to straighten up on her own, but she still felt weak.
"No complaints. I'll clock both of us out for the night." She studied Jessica carefully. "Can you stand alright?"
Jess lowered her head, shaking a little. She felt Becca prop her up again, this time grasping her by both the arm and her pants.
As both of them left the bathroom and headed back to the front, the strange man was still standing there.
"You're still here?!"
And he was, in fact, standing in the same spot. Sheepishly, he scratched the back of his neck. Didn't she say she would be back? he wondered.
"Never mind. I… I don't have time for posers tonight."
"What are you talking about, Becca?" Jess lifted her head. Her eyes widened then, in recognition.
Peter had a very similar reaction.
It can't be… He thought to himself, jaw dropping. But… what is she doing here?
"You… You don't have any respect, do you?!" Gaining strength somehow, Jessica straightened up and pulled away from Becca. Now, she was more sullen than sick, a bright spark of fury building as she approached the half-masked man. "How dare you come in here after everything's happened and try to play such a cruel joke on us!" And on me… she mentally added.
"Jessica!" Becca hurried over to her wayward friend, uncertain what she was going to do. She didn't want Jess to get hurt. Before she could reach her though, Jessica had hauled off and slapped the man full force.
Peter's eyes widened as he saw a very familiar green glint in those brown eyes before her hand impacted his cheek. The blow almost rocked him off his feet, and he had a genuine fear that she had knocked more than a few teeth loose. Managing to stay upright by sheer will, Peter turned back to face her, the exposed side of his face rapidly beginning to bruise. His lip was also split from the force of the blow, blood beginning to stream from the wound.
Jess was panting, realization of what she'd done suddenly suffusing her features.
She'd just slapped a man who looked like Spider-Man.
She'd just done this while at work and still on the clock. The burst of energy fled her, dread sinking in. She paled, beginning to shake again.
"… Nice to see you too, Jen." Peter uttered before he had to jump forward to catch her as her legs suddenly gave way.
Some Time Later…
"Seriously, we don't need your help!"
Who was? The world was a dark and murky place for Jessica. It just wasn't her day. The persistent sickness clung to her like a cloak, and her headaches were not making things any better. She did something profoundly idiotic too, but couldn't remember right away what it was.
"Well, you have it anyway!" A male voice responded.
Her body jerked a little as she recognized the timber of the speaker. Was that who she thought it was?
"Put her down!"
She heard Becca yelling at - who?
"Sure, as soon as I get her into the ambulance." There was a pause. "Coming?"
"You bet I am! I don't trust you. I don't care how much like - him - you look. You can't be him!"
Jess' world was swallowed up by darkness again. Main Universe
The Daily Bugle - Present
Today, J Jameson was a proud man. Scarred, but proud. The sales of the Bugle had increased exponentially as his paper was the first one to announce the demise of Spider-Man. Ever since then, the phone had been ringing off the hook. The older man always claimed to be team player, but he wasn't foolish when it came to a good story. This one was one of the best. His assistant had hustled to get the paper set for the next day. As shocking as the sudden loss of Spider- Man was, the concurrent loss of the city's newest hero was going to pose problems.
Villains that had been kept at bay by the octobots no longer had anything holding them back.
They were going to have to call for reinforcements. He wondered which branch of the military was going to be heading to New York. Squeezing his left hand into a fist, Jameson bit one of his knuckles. In the last two days, there had been reports of a steady increase in violence in the city again.
"Coffee, sir?"
Breaking his reverie, he smiled in gratitude as Ashley handed him a freshly brewed coffee from the local coffee shop.
"You've had several messages come in." She looked through the notepad she was holding. "The ID, True Brazen and Beatz Biz have called for an interview."
Jameson perked up at her words.
"As the first and main person on the scene, they want your take on what happened at the Pier."
Jameson grinned.
Parallel Worlds - Parallel Lives (Alternate Universe) Elsewhere
Peter and Becca sat at opposite sides of Jess' hospital bed.
Peter was busy holding an icepack to his cheek, and Becca was torn between contacting what few friends Jessica had and keeping an eye on the stranger.
They had been there for a while, although Peter had left for a little over an hour to find less conspicuous attire. The jeans he picked up from the thrift store thankfully fit, but the gray t-shirt he bought was baggy. He managed to snag a cheap pair of sneakers and a backpack at another location and hurried back to the hospital. Thankfully, he was able to get back to "Jessica's" room.
Peter stretched a little in his seat, freezing when he noticed that Becca was watching him like a hawk. "S… Sorry." Peter continued to cradle the icepack to his face. His gaze drifted over to his long-term friend. What happened to you? he wondered. He scooted a little bit closer to her and held her hand.
"What are you-"
"Please stop." Peter responded, lifting his gaze to Becca. "She's my friend. She's important." He looked back to Jess. "She's a hero too. What is she doing here?"
Becca looked up from her phone, both thumbs hovering while she worked on a text message.
"Excuse me?" Maybe she'd heard him wrong.
"She's a hero. She's one of our own. What on earth is she doing working there?"
Before Becca could respond to that odd piece of information, Jess spoke.
"Mmm… where am I?" she mumbled, her eyes slowly opening.
Peter stood up, placing his ice pack on the hospital table. "Jen! You're awake!" he exclaimed. Then, he gave her the biggest smile.
The creeping fear inching across her face in reply was stifling.
"I know I'm not your favorite person right now apparently, but you're in the hospital."
She remained tongue-tied.
"The doctor will be back soon to tell us how you're doing."
At that her eyes rounded, and she tried to bolt out of bed.
Only for Peter to hold her down. "Whoa wait! Wait a minute!" He had to struggle to keep her in place. She looked small, but she was stronger than she appeared.
"I want to go home now," she said. "Right now."
"But Jess," Her coworker and friend piped up, announcing her presence. "You have to be cleared first before you go." She nodded at Peter. "I'm not leaving you alone with him either." Then she pointed at him. "So, you're stuck with both of us, buddy!"
"Hey!" Peter exclaimed, insulted. "I wouldn't do anything to hurt Jen like that!"
Becca shook her head.
"Jen! Jen! All you say is Jen! That's not what her name is though, is it Jessica?"
Instead of speaking right away, the young brunette sunk back into the pillows. She suddenly looked smaller.
"Jess?" Becca questioned, not liking this turn of events.
"Um… can you get us a coffee?" Off Becca's incredulous stare, she nodded. "I'll be fine. He can't - Err… He won't do anything to me." At those words, she looked squarely at Peter then. "Right?"
"R-Right."
With both of them looking in her direction after that, Becca let out a sound of disgust and got out of her seat.
"I'll get myself one too. Maybe I'll wake up from this strange nightmare where dead people are suddenly alive again!" She flailed her arms and stalked out of the hospital room.
"Umm…" she began.
"Uhh…" Peter said at the same time.
Both of them stopped and shared a strained laugh. "You first," he said.
Swallowing hard, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly and rubbed them with one hand.
"Are you… Peter? Peter Parker?"
The question seemed strange, but he nodded.
"You're not supposed to be alive," Her eyes opened then, and he could see tears pooling. "You left everyone." She could not stop the crack in her voice then.
He lightly squeezed her hand in a show of support.
"You left… us . I couldn't… handle it," she failed to offer even a shaky smile. "You know my track record with disappointments… but this time, I couldn't run."
Now, his brows furrowed in confusion.
"You forgot that quickly, Peter?"
His mouth opened right as the doctor stepped into the room.
The man was older, possibly middle aged. Most of his hair was black, save the patches of silver at his temples. He offered a friendly smile to his patient. "Ah, good to see you're awake Miss Smith." Then, he glanced at Peter. "Would you prefer we speak privately?"
If possible, the question made her pale even further.
Peter was about to say something when he felt her squeezing his hand. Worried, he moved closer to her and waved a hand in front of her face.
She irritably batted him away but didn't let his hand go.
"Ah… Whatever you have to say, doctor, I can handle it." He puffed his chest out in an exaggerated way, noting how the doctor rolled his eyes in response. "I'm her friend."
Deciding for a moment and looking between the two of them, the doctor flipped a page on her medical chart. "You're a bit low on potassium and electrolytes. We're currently treating you for mild dehydration. If what I've heard about all of the vomiting is true, that could explain it."
Peter nodded. That was good news, right? They could treat that with fluids and rest.
"Your urine sample came up positive, but I'm sure you knew that. So, we did an ultrasound on the baby to see how it was doing." Peter froze in place at those words.
"The amniotic sac is intact and the heartbeat is steady. What happened hasn't harmed it."
Peter wasn't sure he'd heard right.
The doctor didn't seem nearly as enthusiastic as he should have. "You are a little malnourished, Miss Smith. You need rest, plenty of fluids and food." He walked over to her bedside and checked one of the monitors.
"I need to ensure that the baby's monitor is in place."
Conceding, she looked away as the doctor tugged up part of her gown to check on a strap around her lower abdomen.
Satisfied with what he saw, he made a note on the chart and checked the monitor's readout again. He tucked the gown back down and pulled her blanket up a little more.
"Jen?" Both of Peter's eyes widened, despite the bruising. "What…" He wasn't certain what the doctor was talking about until he saw that strap. He wasn't sure what he should or even - could say to her. I have a feeling that I'm far from home. He never remembered Jen ever talking about settling down and having kids… but here she was
proving him wrong!
"We'll keep you overnight for observation and then you can go home." Saying nothing else, the doctor left the room quickly, returning to his rounds.
"Jen?" Peter spoke again, moving into her range of view.
Brown eyes met hazel and her free hand idly picked at the blanket covering her legs.
"Is what he said true? I-"
Her eyes narrowed. Of all the stupid things he could have asked. "Of course, it is. How could you forget?"
Peter shook his head.
"What is this? First you somehow didn't die and now you forget that we were together?!"
Alarm bells were going off in the webslingers head and it had nothing to do with his spider senses.
"I don't believe this…" Pulling her hand away from his, she crossed her arms.
"I can't say that I know what happened, but I can help you."
Her gaze narrowed even more.
A few things were beginning to click into place in Peter's head. He was somewhere far from home. Jennifer was still Jennifer, but wasn't? That was confusing. On top of that, she stated that they had a relationship when all he remembered was getting swat on occasion when she didn't approve of his wisecracks. If anything, Jennifer Walters swatted like she wanted to kill him, mainly when she was angry with him. It didn't make sense! None of it did.
Not unless… That helmet that the Doc had… Had he been sent to a different universe, maybe?
"This is ridiculous. You're insane… Suddenly you care? I can't believe you would show your face after what you said."
Peter was perplexed.
"About what?"
In response, she pointed at her midsection with both index fingers.
His mouth gaped a moment. Oh, right… He really didn't belong here. Oh no, I hope I didn't get into a fight with the father. That was the last gritty thing that he needed to figure out. From what he'd heard, Peter Parker was dead… At least here he was.
"What do you think, doofus? Your child! You told me you didn't want the baby!" She watched curiously as confusion filled his face.
He suddenly flushed red in realization and then paled. He'd made a baby with the She-Hulk. Wait! Did he?
How was that even possible?
I can't believe I had it in me… I mean him! I can't believe he had it in him! "That… I did not do that."One look in her eyes warned him, he'd made a big mistake. Oops! Wrong thing to say.
Against better judgement, the young woman looked like she was trying to rip out her IV line to pummel him.
"Would you believe I'm from a closely parallel universe to this one, and I didn't actually do any of the things you think I did?"
She paused at his words, and he offered a timid smile. This of course, had the opposite effect than what he was looking for.
"What kind of an idiot do you think I am?" she snarled, green light flashing in her eyes. Her temperament was at current unpredictable and very prickly. She felt so raw from her earlier encounter with him at work. A slight like this wasn't going to go well for him. Thankfully, she'd left the IV line alone.
Fidgeting and inching towards the door, his hand tightly gripping the handle of his backpack, Peter responded. "I feel like I should have my lawyer present before answering that."
Her brows pinched together tightly. She distinctly remembered representing him in court.
"I am a lawyer you ignoramus!" I'm your lawyer… She wanted to say, but hesitated. Why add fuel to the fire?
"Um, and this is where I exit," he choked out before ducking behind the door. He was ten feet down the hall before he stopped. Wait… what am I doing? He couldn't just leave her, the mother of his - er - the mother of someone's unborn child. He wouldn't feel right. And that's just what alternate me did… Maybe it was a good thing that alternate-him had died. He wasn't going to make the same mistakes.
He saw Becca returning down the hallway from another direction and hurried back into his friend's room.
Still stinging from his disappearance, she choked out a question when he suddenly reappeared. "… What are you doing here?" Holding up both hands, Peter swallowed, thinking quickly. Jennifer was faster than he was at analyzing a conversation - so he needed to choose his words carefully. He didn't want to make the situation worse than it already was.
"Before you - uhh - hurt me, let me explain again. I'm not from around here. Really. I was in the middle of a fight with the Doc," he shook his head, omitting what had happened to the scientist. The memory was far too fresh. "I'm not leaving you… I was just worried for my own health and wellbeing."
She lowered her gaze a moment, fiddling again with the blanket. As if I could do anything… she thought bitterly, not seeming to remember what she'd done to him.
"I'm worried about you too now and your - our - umm…" What was he supposed to call the baby exactly?
Letting out a humorless laugh, she effectively quieted him.
"What am I going to do?" she asked, weakly. "This entire situation is a mess," Her eyes drank in the sight of him, the lids heavy. "I can't just stop working," her voice sounded so distressed that it broke his heart. "I need money to stay in my crummy apartment."
Feeling torn, because all of this was a bonafide dilemma he had somehow gotten sucked into, Peter returned to the side of her bed. He pulled the chair right up to her and sat down again, grasping both of her hands.
"Let me take care of you," he laid the offer on the table. He didn't like the idea of her struggling on her own - especially now that he knew she was pregnant.
Her eyes reflected a fear of the future, of the unknown.
"I also have no idea where I am and no place to stay," he added. "So this works out for both of us." He grinned and shrugged at her
irritated stare. "We can be in the puddle together, huh?" The brunette rolled her eyes and Peter let out a laugh.
Looking at him closely, she reached up and touched his beard. Even beaten and bruised, looking at him again - from so close up - made her heart do a little flip in her chest. She ached so badly to kiss him, but held back. This wasn't the Peter that she'd known for so many years.
No… Not my Peter. She decided. Better. This is a much better Peter. He wanted to help her with the baby and had been so gentle with her.
"This is new…" she remarked. The Peter she knew was vain and shunned the idea of having any facial hair. The man had even kept his eyebrows and head shaved bald.
Peter lowered his head so she could cup his cheek.
She felt him smile against her palm. Her eyes began to fill with tears again, but this time they spilled down her cheeks. It was him but not him.
"Not really." he murmured.
Both of them had become so engrossed in one another that they didn't notice Becca at the door.
She stood there, watching as the two locked eyes. Something major had happened while she went to get coffee, but she wasn't sure what it was. She also had stopped in the cafeteria to get food for all of them. They were speaking to each other in an undertone, and before things became too uncomfortable, she loudly cleared her throat. They were startled but didn't pull apart.
"Coffee and sandwiches." she stated, walking into the room. She set the beverages on the bedside table, and put the food on the hospital
table. "I know you want some of this caffeine goodness, right Jess?" Her friend smiled, but it was wobbly.
How is she going to handle all of this? Jen wondered, nervously, wiping betraying streaks of moisture from her cheeks.
"Would water be better?" Peter asked. He actually stood up and carefully fluffed her pillows, pointedly ignoring Becca's expression.
"Y… Yeah, Pete. Grab it for me, would you-" She bit her own tongue before she called him sweetie . The desire had been there, and he was so close. But no, this was not the Peter Parker that she knew. Had it been, she knew he wouldn't have been anywhere near her. She had to remind herself of that.
Hearing the ache in her voice and understanding, Peter nodded and went looking for a vending machine.
Once he was out of the room, Becca turned to her friend and coworker.
"What's going on between you two?" Becca shook her head. "I leave the room for ten minutes, and you both are all over each other!"
Jen looked offended, her cheeks puffing as if she was about to say something foul. Then she just gave up and stretched out on the bed.
"I wasn't - we weren't - Look… Pete is a friend. It's safe." This next part she was not looking forward to revealing. "And Jen… is me. It's my name. Jennifer."
Becca blinked, not believing what she was hearing.
"I'm…" Jen swallowed, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. "I'm actually a licensed criminal attorney. I don't…" Her gaze was sad. "I can't work in my field right now. Not with the types of clients I have." Blinking away more tears and failing miserably, Jennifer wiped at her eyes once more.
The silence following her pronouncement stretched for a long time.
Becca started to wonder about her friend. Just how well did she know Jess-Jen? Her name was Jennifer, right?
Just who is she? Becca worriedly chewed on her bottom lip. Is she on the run from someone? She'd known the brunette for two months and assumed she knew her well enough. At work, they'd become fast friends. They shared everything. Well not everything… Becca thought with a frown.
She knew that Jennifer always turned her down whenever she asked her to go out on the town. She never wanted to go out after work for even a single drink. Worry seemed to always follow her, but her friend had never voiced a word of complaint.
She was very hard working and always put in extra effort for their customers. But a lawyer? That was hard to swallow. What is she hiding from? Becca doubted she'd ever have real answers to those questions. How could she honestly trust Jennifer if the woman hadn't even been honest about her name?
"I've got water and it's cold!" Peter stated plainly, walking back into the room. He noticed the silence, but chose not to acknowledge it. He uncapped the bottle before handing it to Jen.
"I can open the bottle, Pete."
He shrugged.
"It's not considered hard work."
"I know. The doctor said you need to take it easy though." That gained Becca's attention.
"I still need to work," Jen insisted.
Peter returned to his seat, smoothly sliding one of the sandwiches towards her, pointedly. He picked up his abandoned ice pack and held it against his face again. "I'll get a job."
Jennifer rolled her eyes. She knew what he was doing. Her stomach was beginning to growl though, and she eagerly grabbed the sandwich.
"You should have seen what I did back in Pennsylvania," he began, filling the companionable silence.
That piqued her interest, but she wasn't going to give up her food to talk to him.
"Cut wood for a family on their farm." the wallcrawler continued.
Sulking a bit in her seat, Becca grabbed her own sandwich and began eating. The two of them were so strange. She hadn't been gone that long, and they were like best friends now.
"It wasn't so bad. Helped me get my mind off things." Little things… like losing my fiancée and my dignity.
A light tap was heard on the open door before a smiling woman in scrubs entered. She had a pretty mocha complexion, her dark-brown hair braided and pinned back in place. "How are you feeling, Miss Smith?" she asked.
Mouth full, Jennifer offered a closed mouth smile and gave a thumbs up.
"Good to hear! I came in to check your IV line. You're supposed to get two bags of saline and electrolytes before you leave here. We also have you an on anti-emetic to help with the vomiting."
Jennifer nodded, swallowing her mouthful.
"If you need help getting to the bathroom, the call button is right next to you in bed." She was carrying a chart and carefully checked the
reading on the monitors, writing everything down.
"Thank you." Peter chimed in, carefully reading the badge. He was hovering just a little, curious to see what was happening to his friend. "Thank you, Miss Collins." Looking at Jennifer then, he scooted her water closer. "Don't forget to drink," he murmured softly.
Jen didn't reply, but she did start taking sips of water between bites.
Peter hoped that his friend wouldn't ask him to help her in the bathroom. A split second later, he realized how ludicrous the idea was! Still… his face reddened. If he was going to help his friend for the long haul, he was going to have to do things that he hadn't thought of before. But hopefully not that . The flush deepened.
The nurse laughed seeing his expression.
"No need to be so shy! Just call me Kaitlin," she replied. Beaming, she watched how attentive the injured young man seemed to be with her patient. Looking to Jennifer, she asked with a smile. "First time fathers are the best, huh?" Her attention returned to the chart to write down something she saw on one of the monitors, completely missing how Jennifer had frozen in place. "Everything looks good so far, Miss Smith."
For a few more minutes, she continued to scribble down some readings.
Gradually, Jennifer relaxed, but knew that Becca's eyes had doubled in size at the nurse's statement. Ignoring it, she returned to eating her sandwich.
"I'll be back in a few hours to set up your second drip, Miss Smith." She looked at Peter. "Don't worry, papa! She and your baby are in good hands!" Giving the couple another smile, she left the room.
Very quietly, Peter grabbed up his sandwich and began eating before his - friend's - friend - began to stare him down. The evening was
already awkward enough as it was.
Thankfully, once Jennifer had finished eating, she yawned and set the sandwich wrapper aside. Wilting a little under Peter's stare, she took another healthy mouthful of water and curled up on her side, keeping the arm with the IV on her hip. "I'm so tired." she muttered.
Peter rested his chin on the railing of her bed, curling his right hand around the rail and looked at her.
"If you're tired, then go to sleep."
Jennifer's eyes almost closed, but she shook her head trying desperately to stay awake.
"No…" she replied, her voice soft. "If I go to sleep… you'll disappear," her head rolled back on the pillow a little and she stared at the ceiling. "You'll be gone again… and I'll go back to being pregnant and alone." She blinked, a tear rolling down her cheek. "And sick… so sick. And hiding. Always hiding."
Peter's shoulders slumped at her words, and he reached out, lightly running his fingers through her hair.
She turned her head, locking eyes with him again, her own now reddish and wet.
Had she cried over him? It was the first time Peter had considered the possibility. "Not this time," he said with determination. "You'll wake up tomorrow and get discharged home and then we'll see how we can take care of you."
At that, Peter looked over to where Becca was sitting. "Right?"
Becca's green eyes were bright with tears, but she nodded in agreement. She had no idea that Jennifer was suffering so badly. Now she felt bad for doubting her.
Main Universe
Hidden Location
Pst… The rain was coming down in torrents. It didn't seem to faze the lone figure riding a black motorcycle. They regularly reached higher speeds than what was considered legal - far past the initial ten miles over. The road wasn't full of much traffic, which was in direct contrast with the daytime. Though what few drivers were on the road were unnecessarily aggressive. That didn't bother the motorcyclist either.
One driver swerved in front of them, a hand ducking out the window as they executed a rather rude gesture.
Features obscured save the lower part of their face, full lips pulled up into a knowing smirk. The rider was clad entirely in black and silver. Moonlight bounced off the zipper, as one hand reached up and pulled it down again. It seemed foolish to willingly allow additional drag on the bike, or maybe… that was the intention.
Loud revving was heard as the biker increased in speed and tucked limbs in closer to the bike. Weaving to the right, and then the left… They casually drifted in front of the car. With nary a word or gesture, the rider sped up further, peeling off down the road. The smile stubbornly remained in place, even as the sound of sirens suddenly rent through the air.
The police. Again.
Who cares? The rider thought with an ever-widening grin. They can't follow where I go.
Leaning suddenly to the right, the motorcycle executed a very tight turn down a narrow alley. The space was slight, the area dark and small. It was perfect for someone wishing to get away, though not for the faint of heart. Indeed, the entire area could have been easily seen as abandoned if not for the lack of garbage and other assorted dredges of filth.
No matter. The rider continued down the narrow, twisting alley. The sounds of sirens grew increasingly distant. Soon, the rider reached the proverbial 'brick wall,' the entire area completely closed off. Unbothered, the rider hopped off the motorcycle, rolling it to a shadowy corner and removed the helmet. The surprisingly long strawberry-blonde locks they had fell around narrow shoulders. Turning toward a segment of 'wall' next to the motorcycle, the rider held up one hand.
"Initialize." Stated a feminine but robotic voice. A long, thin pole descended from the overhanging roof next to the wall. Six inches of it at the end bent to a forty-five-degree angle and a bright red light was visible from it.
The rider stood there, not fighting as the light scanned up and down their body.
A 'door' in the wall opened. "Enter." said the cold, emotionless voice.
Turning to retrieve the motorcycle, the rider headed through the door.
As soon as the wheels crossed the threshold, the door clicked closed. Bright circles of light were visible on the floor, one after another and they led down a long hallway. The rider didn't seem at all concerned. Soon, the light patterns changed, and the directions down the hall followed along. There were pockets of darkness just outside the reach of the circles of light.
"There are other, more advanced methods that could be utilized to come here." The voice that spoke up in the dark was stilted, but the speaker somehow still managed to show disdain. "You know this, miss?"
A faint laugh was the offered reply. "They're not as fun." The rider said in reply, the inflection of her voice showing amusement. There was faint twinkle in her green eyes. "You need to learn to loosen up!"
The conversation continued on, as the other speaker walking down the hallway chose to stick to the shadows.
"Loosen what? I will have you know that I have been fastened to ninety-nine-point ninety-nine percent. Nothing on me is loose."
There was an awkward period of silence. The blonde rider merely shook her head without responding. How was she to explain the different pieces of slang collected together to constitute her speech now?
"ECHO will be pleased that you came so soon." The other speaker continued. "You are truly skilled at what you do."
Stopping then, the rider looked at the shadows and shook her head. "I blend in. That's what I was made to do, right?" Letting out an audible sigh, she continued walking until she reached a doorway.
"SCAN INITIALIZING." The same robotic feminine voice spoke up, from the doors. A giant purple gemstone shone from the top of the doors.
Unperturbed, she waited patiently with both of her hands on the motorcycle.
"They could do with an upgrade in that message." She remarked. Time around humans had certainly changed her mindset. "Something that sounds less like…" She paused, uncertain of how she could describe the monotonous tones. Once, this place could have easily been called home. Now, she wasn't sure. Nothing 'stayed the same' while she was out among others. Here on the other hand… the days were filled with - no surprises.
"Less?" The voice queried.
Stepping out of the shadows to also submit to the scan, the automaton revealed itself to be rather small in size, only four feet in height. There were no discernable features on its face, a screen over where its mouth would be. A thin visor served as eyes. What was so unusual was how it walked; the movements so fluid - almost as if they were out on a casual stroll. "You should voice your concerns to ECHO."
The response was - predictable. A flicker of what could have been considered to be flinch crossed the rider's features.
"ENTER." the voice commanded. The doorway opened scant seconds later.
Lightly rolling her eyes, she stepped in with the motorcycle.
A tall man stood with his back to her. His bald head was pale… sickeningly so. As he turned around, his movements were uneven. Often, he'd been told that his eyes were the only expressive parts to him. Right now though, they were looking from the rider to her motorcycle and back.
She stood stock still after stepping through the door.
Walking closer to her, the tall man wrung his hands together. Many would have viewed it as a nervous gesture - but that was not the same in his case. He was deep in thought, wondering what to ask her first. He wondered over the unusual mode of travel and the attire.
"ECHO." she stated simply, keeping her gaze fixed forward as the man drew closer. Staying so close to the door meant that he was limited in his ability to circle her.
That was what he did. There was no need for him to constantly inspect her whenever he saw her.
She saw his thin lips pull up into a sickeningly shaky smile.
His gaze always lingered too long, making any attempts to appear friendly fail miserably.
"It still astounds me how good you look." He replied, allowing a strange smile to stretch his mouth. "Are you sure that I made you?" Leaning forward a little, he looked into her eyes. His hands reached forward then, and he inspected her hairline.
Gradually, her features adopted the same cold stare as the small machine with her. There was no need to 'pretend' with ECHO. He knew all and saw all. She felt it though when he inspected her eyes.
His wide grin returned at her reaction. "Oh… I'm sorry," he murmured, his smile now simpering. "I forgot that you have so many receptors for so many things. That probably hurt, didn't it?"
Instead of responding, she held her silence. As soon as this inspection is over, I can get out of here.
Not receiving the reaction he'd hoped for, he calmed down. He stared at her for some time, but she maintained the silence as long as needed.
It was a strange battle of wills with them. The creator against the creation… and it never ceased to amaze her just how far he would go to get a reaction out of her.
Folding his arms, seemingly bored now, ECHO spun around and returned to the console he'd been at before. The entire room had minimal lighting, the walls and floors pitch black. A glass chamber, encased in a steel cage, was suspended from the ceiling - emitting an eerie pale blue light. The entire console was also illuminated by the same light, but the man didn't seem bothered at all.
She held back a sound, startled to spot what appeared to be a leg floating inside the chamber.
Pinching his brow a moment, the tall man began entering commands into his console.
Blinking a little she looked at her robotic companion, and both of them looked at ECHO.
"So… you have a report, don't you?" This was asked with his back to her.
Keeping wary, she approached quietly, leaving her motorcycle near the door. "Yes. The chip as you requested." Reaching into a pocket in her jacket, she extracted a thin black box. Inside was a small memory card, which she showed him. Closing the box, she handed it to him.
Instead of taking it, ECHO shook his head.
"Show me…" He grunted, staring at the leg in the chamber. So fickle… He thought with disgust. He was watching the display on a monitor as tiny machines worked away on the interior of his newest design.
"In which format?" She carefully removed the glove on her left hand and turned it hand palm up. "Audio only?" The skin of her palm parted in the center, revealing a telltale slot. Flicking the top of the box away from her, she extracted the chip with her other hand carefully and began sliding the chip in place.
"I don't need a little bit of fluff on a memory stick, Ashley." ECHO snorted. "Show me from your memory banks." With his thin, pointed chin, he directed her attention to a separate section of the console.
The twinge of anxiety that she felt was quickly squashed. There was no need for fear with him… but she was embarrassed that she had completely forgotten that he would ask for information like this. She'd grown used to him requesting these memory cards. Nodding and uncertain about what he would think of what he saw, she walked
over to the console and placed the chip next to her.
Her eyes easily spotted the necessary data cables, and she extracted one, hooking herself in. Stiffening, she was unable to suppress a gasp of shock at the sudden sting. The exchange of information between her mechanical brain and the console felt so strange… as if things were slithering inside her head.
Bright green lights emitted from around her eyes and ECHO abandoned his work for the moment to watch the second monitor's display. He was intrigued to see what she had to share. J Jameson himself was there speaking, possibly introducing her to a younger man who looked both exasperated and tired at the same time. There was no audio, as the sound wasn't connected on this end.
At first, ECHO had seemed intrigued, but he wasn't happy with how his 'creation' seemed to be having wandering thoughts in her recall. He was pleasantly surprised though. It seemed like she liked jelly filled donuts - a lot. Maybe he shouldn't have enabled her to eat. "This is all pointless information, Ashley. Show me what you found. You visited Pier Sixty, right?"
Her body jerked a little, and the recall changed over to the ruins of the venue. There was plenty of police tape that she had easily stepped around to get to the chamber. The interior of it didn't tell him much, as it was all damaged from the explosion.
He was genuinely surprised that even a little of it remained.
He saw her pick up what looked like a remote control and turn it over in her hand before it dipped somewhere out of her sight.
Then, her eyes spotted one of those infuriating octobots.
ECHO's eyes lit up as he watched her approach and carefully
disable by emitting an energy charge. His lips turned up widely at the corners and he turned to her. "Ashley Gardiner…"
Her glowing gaze drifted to his.
"Show me what you learned of the bot." To Be Continued…
Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed. I love constructive criticism, so feel free to contact me!
J. Lyst
Additional Note: This is an updated and revised version of the original chapter. The date for this revision is June 13, 2022. I can honestly admit that I wanted to strangle myself by page 9 just because of all of the jumping POVs. Then it worsened… When I reached page 16, I actually pulled at my hair. This chapter was originally 26 pages in length. Now, it reaches 35 pages.
Yikes! No wonder some of you were so upset! I was upset too… and my eyes hurt from trying to read along. I'm terribly embarrassed.
Sorry about that.
Additional Note To The Additional Note: I've gone and revised this chapter yet again. Information was added, some readjusted and edited for easier reading. The date of this revision is July 4, 2023. We can thank clinging physical fatigue over the weekend for this - along with potentially food poisoning from a Chinese takeout location.
Additional Note To The Prior Additions: This here should be a better revision… I hope. The date for this one is December 10, 2023.