Navigating the Curve Chapter 29: Secret Moments, a Spider-Man + Fantastic Four Crossover fanfic

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Spider-Man or She-Hulk franchises.

Trigger: Bit trippy, I guess?

Warning: There is some cereal graphic content down there… though not explicit. Though that is very much within my abilities if I really wanted to. But... I would have been banned here, so no explicit stuff, k, plz, ty! If you're not sure what, check if I have any new tags.

Ahem. Just saying.

Non-Addendum: I hope there's not too much confusion in earlier chapters, both at the speed of Peter and Jen's relationship and problems with her job search and subsequent health crisis. It's why I started adding dates. Were I to go a step further, I would stuff even more chapters into the story, between the main 25, to add more meat to it. However, I am already in the process of repairing the first 25 broken chapters. Chapter 1 is done so far.

In all honesty, I should have started the story itself off with dates, but I never knew I would reach this point. Originally, I assumed that NtC would only have 15 chapters.

…

Yep. …No one ever said my counting was the best…

Navigating the Curve

By Juliette Lyst

Secret Moments

Prequel

"Let me out!" Peter roared, banging his fists against the front of the clear enclosure around him. He didn't know where he was. He didn't even know when he was. All the young man knew was that something was…

Very.

Wrong.

His cries initially went unheard. He looked to the left. "I know you're there!" he yelled, redoubling his attack. I don't think they know who they're messing with. "Let me out right now!" he barked. "Because if I get myself out of here, things won't go well for you!"

The shadowy figure moved. They seemed to be hesitating, unsure.

"I'm warning you!" Peter shouted. He was putting more and more force into his blows.

"You're not getting out," they hissed in reply. "Not until you give me what I want."

Rage increasing, Peter noticed a curious darkness was clouding his vision. Soon he saw nothing.

It was good. He didn't see himself rip the electrodes off his face and chest. He didn't see himself throwing his body against the glass enclosure with enough force to crack the glass. Peter was unaware of his captor's body going into motion, racing to a large console and quickly typing in commands.

Eyes narrowed to slits, Peter grabbed the sides of the needle that was coming towards him, yanking furiously. There was a crack, then a fantastic explosion of sparks as the wires holding the needle in place gave way under the strain.

"No…" The figure slammed their fist against a red button.

White gas began to flood the enclosure, but instead of the expected effect, the webswinger became even more frenzied, eventually punching a fist-sized hole in the glass. Bracing himself against the back of the chamber, he used his legs to kick open the door.

October 11th, 2:45AM

Head tossed back on the couch and with his arms splayed, Peter was sound asleep. The movie he was watching had long since ended, and now all that was on TV were informercials.

"ree! Now isn't that a great price, Joanna?"

"Absolutely Bill! If you purchase one of our systems, you get a second free… a two-hundred-dollar value. Now only for one hundred fifteen!"

"Call now to buy! Purchases are subject to refunds. Just-make-eight-payments-of-only-twenty-four-forty. Hurry while supplies last. Only one payment of $14.99 for shipping."

"You won't regret this!" Joanne noted, grinning. "It's only twenty-four forty right now. Our phonelines are op—"

The tv was clicked off by Susan. Why was he in here… so late at that? The younger man had a half empty pizza box lying on the floor. The shirt he wore had various stains and some smudges that looked suspiciously like pizza sauce. He also stunk.

Susan grimaced, noticing that on top of everything else, his legs were spread wider than the Grand Canyon. Flushing faintly, she nudged him, gently closing his legs with one of her shoes. Shivering, she fled the room.

Peter snored faintly, his legs falling apart again.

8:45AM – The Bugle

Normally sociable… Peter was quiet. He continued to wear dark extra-large wraparound sunglasses—to protect his eyes and also hide a few of the injuries he'd sustained. The damaged lip hadn't taken long to treat.

But his eyes…

Sighing, he sat down in the meeting room as Jameson began their work day. It was always the same with him. The man would rant and rave as a way to motivate his workforce. The positive rants were always good… as he readily handed out praise. Except…

Except Peter never received genuine praise. Ever. The knowledge was a sticking point with him. He was the one who took nearly all the front page pictures, but was never verbally thanked.

"Dismissed," Jameson said. As the staff cleared out and headed to their respective departments, he spoke up. "Parker…"

The young man turned to look at his employer. "Sir?" What now? he wondered, bitterly. He was so tired. At work, he had to deal with a sarcastic and at times sadistic boss. And at home… now he had to come to terms with the knowledge that the man who had harmed… Jennifer… That man was living there too.

"Take them off, Parker." JJ stated, folding his arms.

It took a moment for the older man's words to sink in… but sink in they did. "Pardon?"

"The sunglasses. Take them off." JJ's expression hardened. "It is very unprofessional to come to work like that."

"Bu—"

"Take them off, Parker. Don't make me repeat myself."

Jaw quivering, because he understood, but was angry at the situation—Peter complied. As soon as the shades were off his face, they revealed the extent of damage he had sustained to his face.

JJ's mouth dropped open. "Parker…" his arms dropped by his sides.

A tendon in Peter's jaw jumped. Both eyes were blackened from impact, and he had a bandage above the bridge of his nose… hidden underneath the shades. Reed had done his best to fix his broken nose but… The job was done in a rush. The longer they waited, the harder it would take to heal. "If I can get back to my desk…" Peter spoke, d

"I…" Quieting, JJ nodded. What as he supposed to say? Peter kept coming to work… despite what looked like a very violent attack. What happened to you?

"Thank you," Peter replied, managing to maintain his composure. Instead of putting the shades back on, Peter kept them off. He knew his colleagues would assume that something had happened between him and their boss…

At that point, he didn't care. All he wanted was to get back home. The young man looked at his first task of the day. Grunting, he grabbed his camera and hurried out the door.

Nothing too strenuous.

A charity gala was going to happen that evening. Peter was assigned to take pictures of the location ahead of time. It wasn't until he was ten shots in when he was given the bad news…

The photographs were supposed to be used on the backs of the brochures, that night.

Which meant that Peter would have to work quickly to develop the film and rush it back to them.

Mood ruined; the young hero hurried back to the Bugle to use the darkroom. He was careful to take the time and put on some protection before he dealt with the chemicals in there. Part of his protective suit was locked in his desk. Strapping the ventilator mask in place, he also made sure to glove up. It was fortunate that he had the mask in place, because his grimace as he tied on the apron wasn't visible.

It would have been preferrable for the owners let him know ahead of time… like a few days ahead. I need to make sure I don't rush anything… Even though 'hurrying' was not what he wanted to do most.

To get it over with.

After popping the safety goggles in place, he took the film roll and went into the darkroom.

Three Hours Later

Doing his best to avoid grumbling out loud, Peter returned to the venue, holding a long manilla envelope. He smiled and modestly accepted the praise from the owners once they saw the pictures. And… much to his delight, they apologized profusely for the rushed job and gave him an invitation to attend the event for free.

He agreed… and asked if he could bring company.

8:45PM – Charity Gala

Looking around after they were inside, Peter adjusted his tie. To avoid unnecessary attention, he was back to wearing the shades.

"Huh… Not bad. Bit flashy though,"

Looking over, Peter lightly shrugged. "Don't know what to tell you, Johnny."

The young blond chafed in his pressed suit and tie. "Is all this really required?" He was clearly uncomfortable, running his finger underneath the tie. The guests in attendance all seemed to ooze money. And the young man was beginning to feel intimidated.

A woman approached them, offering brochures.

After receiving his, Johnny took one looked at the glossy cover and whistled. He either didn't notice or didn't care that other people had turned around to find the source of the sound. "Don't know what this 'charity' event is about, but look at these!"

Brow arched; Peter glanced over. "Hmm?" He was also examining the brochure, pleased. In the few hours they had, the owners had created a beautiful introduction to their venue. His work looked good in print.

"The brochures!" Johnny explained. He flipped through his. "The cover looks good."

Peter inclined his head in agreement, but kept silent.

"The pictures are so prett—"

"Parker!" a voice called.

Stiffening, the young hero's eyes narrowed. He already knew who that voice belonged to. Of course, Jameson would be there. Now… Peter was beginning to regret accepting the invitation. If he'd known his boss would be here, he would have opted to stay home. As it was, he'd almost been shoved out the door by Jennifer.

The green woman stated that one of the things Peter needed was to get some air!

It was true.

But still!

"Didn't know you'd be here, Parker." Jameson continued, a massive grin in place.

"I was given an invitation, sir," Peter replied. "And was able to bring as friend."

"Nice to hear!" the older man responded. He briefly scanned the brochure with his eyes. "These look fantastic," he noted, holding it up.

"Tha—"

"Whoever the photographer is, they did a great job!" JJ's piercing stare and mocking smirk were too much.

Anything else Peter would have said was swallowed down. So that was why he came over… Bristling, the younger man averted his gaze. Jameson knew who had taken these photos. Peter was assigned to the venue.

Yet still…

No acknowledgement.

"… st have planned months ahead! It fits in with tonight's theme." Jameson's words filtered in.

"Really?" Johnny asked, curious. "What is it?"

Done with this, Peter walked away. He didn't warn Johnny or wait for him either. Even though he was looking forward to the event… he didn't need this.

9:30PM – Baxter Building

In his bedroom, Peter stretched out on his back, folding his arms behind his head. Sucking in a deep breath, he felt the stress of the day melt away. His head was turned towards the open door, but his gaze was unseeing.

Johnny passed his door and peeked in momentarily.

Peter never reacted to the blond man's presence.

Frustration crept onto his face and Johnny walked away, heading to his own room. He was caught off guard when Peter left the venue and had sputtered apologies to Jameson as he followed. What is wrong with him? he wondered. Peter had been cranky ever since he moved in there it seemed.

And from what the blonde had been told… he even managed to have an explosive confrontation with Bruce Banner. Good thing they were all there and recognized there was a problem.

Unknown to Johnny, Peter's mind had wandered.

Trying to suppress a frown, he briefly peered over his shoulder. Jennifer and her friend Becca were deep in conversation. 'That's good,' he thought. Memories of what she'd experienced angered him. There was absolutely no reason for her customer to be so cruel. His expression darkened as he took another step in the line. The young man's thoughts swirled… he wanted to know who had done that.

He wanted to know why they had done it. 'Why did they think such cruelty was warranted?'

"How can I take your order?" the clerk behind the counter asked.

Peter moved to speak, noting how frustrated and tired the worker looked. "Please," he began, then addressed her by name. "I would like to order…"

The young woman's expression perked up as she heard his greeting. How many times did someone take the time to greet her by her name? "Sure, sir!" she replied, gracing him with a slight smile.

Once he was done ordering, Peter stepped to the side. Looking over his shoulder, he turned and gestured to Becca. She said something to Jen, he was unsure what and quickly hurried over to him.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Only part of the order will be ready soon," he replied, lowering his voice. As he was speaking, a chocolate milkshake was placed on the counter.

"Number 174!" the male clerk called. "174!"

"That's me," Peter spoke up.

The clerk nodded and pushed the drink towards him.

Picking it up, Peter turned to Becca. "Can you take this to Jen? The food order is going to take a while."

"Are you sure?" she questioned, He got the beverage so swiftly… but as she stood there a few minutes, she noticed something. The customers were being given their drinks before their meal.

Of the food that came out, it didn't match the number of beverages.

Clearing his throat, the young hero looked at her. "There are at least ten orders ahead of me. I think they're short staffed today." His words were rewarded with a grimace. Becca, he knew, was well aware of how horrific it was to be understaffed.

"Gotcha," she bobbed her head. "I'll take this to her."

As he watched the waitress heading back over to his friend, he exhaled. Frown still in place, he shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair.

Unknown Location

October 12th - 1:04AM

Purple fingers punched a rapid-fire command into the console. The entire structure reached the ceiling and dominated a corner of the room, which looked very much like a laboratory. The massive machine was covered with various dials, switches and buttons. One of the most prominent was a solid red button. While waiting for the response to his order, the man at the machine spun on his heels and walked to an office chair. "So slow…" he grumbled.

The laboratory doors opened, admitting another man, this one with a more normal skin tone. "Burning the midnight oil?" he asked.

Clasping his right hand with the left, he rested his linked arms on his head. "I'm not sure why sarcasm is on the menu tonight." Yellow eyes narrowed.

Spreading his hands apart, the other man laughed, his lips turning up at the corners. Lightly scratching his forehead, he looked at the lone tube that dominated the room. "You need to learn to lighten up," he replied.

"Perry…" the purple man began… the barely perceptible accent he possessed coming back to the fore. "This is important! Do you know what will happen if we succeed in this?"

"Wow…" the other man responded. "Krieg… you spend too many hours watching dramas." Seeing him flinch made him feel very good. "We've been working on this project of yours for nearly a week now."

Kreig straightened up in his seat.

"Almost a week! How could it take so long to accomplish this?!" Here, Perry gestured to the tube. "The first goal was to catch him, right?"

Frowning, Krieg nodded.

"The second goal was to wipe his mind and put in your ideas." He said this, knowing that he wanted no part of the project. Perry had worked with Krieg for years at this point and in the past had no problem taking on a new project… especially if it was to further their joint agenda.

This time…?

"It's like you want the subject to suffer before we're finished with them!"

"Firstly…" Krieg spoke. "This was a decision made by both of us, Perry!" His lips were drawn into a thin line. "Secondly… I don't know how the subject escaped the first time. And I don't care."

"Is your goal even to use this one?" Perry asked. He blew an errant lock of black hair away. He took a step towards the tube, arms folded.

"Of course it is!" Krieg exclaimed. He rose from his seat and joined his partner. "We had to stop the last time, remember?"

Perry gave a miniscule nod in reply.

"Then, we lost track of him!" the purple man continued, gesturing to the tube. "Then, he lies to the entire country and goes underground!"

Hesitating, Perry's dark brows drew closely together. "Are you certain that it was a lie?"

"… W… W—What do you mean?" Krieg asked. Again, he pointed to the tube. "He was supposed to be dead and gone, right?"

"Well…" Perry hedged. "I'm not entirely certain. Not anymore." Not with all we've seen.

"Look at him!" the purple man exclaimed. "You can't fake this!"

"I know," the brunet replied. "It looks like that… but there's something different."

"… How?" Krieg asked, dropping his arms to his sides.

"There are intricate differences in people, but in the case of this one," Here, he waved his pointer finger in the air. "The physical appearances are drastically different."

Pressing purple fingers to his temples and massaging gently, Krieg grumbled. "They look exactly the same!"

"No…" Perry replied, not backing down. "His entire presence for one… is greatly different than the last one."

"No, they are not!" Krieg argued. This didn't make much sense. Why is he trying to squabble about little things? "Listen…" he lowered his fingers from his temples. "I know that this subject was lost."

"It's a different subject," Perry countered. "And I can prove it."

Stiffening his spine, Krieg ground his teeth together. "Fine!" he snapped. "Then prove it!"

Perry sucked in a deep breath, glad that the other man was willing to listen. "Take a sample of his fingerprints."

Krieg grimaced. "That puts the suspension at risk. You do know this, don't you?"

The brunet nodded, a grim expression in place. "It's the only way to prove the truth."

"If you're certain…" Krieg replied, running purple fingers through yellow locks. The color itself was strange… matching the hue of his eyes perfectly. "Collect the supplies."

Nodding briefly, Perry left the room.

"You escaped me once before," Krieg spoke, addressing the tube. Clasping his hands behind himself, he walked up to it, looking at the still figure within.

Lying motionless, with electrodes on his forehead and chest… Peter Parker was completely unaware of what was happening in the world around him. He had a mask strapped to his face as well, with a hose that ran further down the length of the tube.

"How did you escape last time? How did you resist me?" he asked. Since Parker's escape, Krieg went into overdrive, with the intention of recapturing the man. It didn't matter that Peter originally refused to work with him. "How did you get loose?"

Two men sat in the back corner of a coffeehouse. One of them was clad in a long trench coat and gloves. A tan hat was pulled down low over his face. A few locks of yellow hair were visible.

"You are joking, right?" Peter asked, left eye twitching. The young man wore an ugly expression and leaned back in his seat, folding his arms.

"No," the man in the trench coat replied. "Look at all the good we could do."

A hairless brow rose. "You're telling me…" Peter began, lightly shaking his bald head. "That the way to achieve peace is by having everyone beating each other to death?"

Sighing in exasperation, the man waved his hand. "No. See it more as an… equalizing of power."

"I don't see how—" Pausing, he lowered his voice. "I don't see how fighting any political entity is a good idea."

"If we can successfully turn them against one another—" the disguised man stated.

"You'll trigger another global conflict," Peter interrupted him. "I am a man of many interests, Mister Kai," the young man continued. "However, what you are proposing is far above my skill level."

"I thought…" said the man in the trench. "That you have that bar set low. At least… that's what I was told."

Peter snarled.

"And remember why you are here," he added.

"Blackmail…" Peter replied flatly. This man, somehow, had acquired information about his current relationship with a government official. "I'm doing this to protect my reputation." He didn't mention his wife to this man. What would it matter anyways? He had made sure that there was minimal evidence of them ever being involved.

"Yes…" he responded. "So, what's wrong with bending the rules just a little?"

Peter's features scrunched up in distaste.

"Why don't we have some coffee? Cooler heads might prevail then."

Though he nodded, but Peter already knew he wasn't going to concede. This man's proposals… if they could be called that… they seemed exaggerated. If he complied, who knew what would happen.

Now… he just had to get away from there.

And there was the issue of destroying the evidence the man held on him.

Krieg sighed. "If I had known you were going to backstab me…" he added. "I wouldn't have let my guard down." He remembered it well. Eventually, Peter agreed to follow him to his base so they could further discuss his plans. "But… that's a non-issue now."

Perry entered the room, a kit in place.

Krieg gave him a cursory glance. "Let's get this over with."

Carefully, they worked together to open the chamber, making sure that the mask remained on Peter's face.

Krieg lifted the young hero's left hand.

Baxter Building

Peter's Room – 3:08AM

Gasping, Peter sat up straight in bed. "J... Jen?" he asked, before his eyes squeezed shut in pain. He was still in the same place, nowhere near his family.

Trapped.

Much like he'd felt at first, he wanted out… now. "I want to go home…" he whispered. Gripping the sheets tightly in his hands, he pulled them up to his face. "I keep hoping," he spoke aloud. "That if I sleep hard enough, I'll wake up at home. It's… quite naive to think it will ever work out that way." Sighing, he loosened his grip on the sheets, pausing at something he spotted.

"What is…" The sheets were stained with black ink. Turning his left hand palm up, he swallowed hard. "Why?" What happened? he wondered. The entire hand, from his palm to his fingertips—was heavily stained with ink. Scooting out of bed, he went to the bathroom to wash his hand off.

Stopping at the doorway, he sucked in a deep breath. He had no explanation for this… and instead of running to Reed, he was going to wash his hands. The more logical part of his brain told him that he needed to reach out to the scientist. Yet, the part of him that was sick and tired of being told he was seeing things was in control at present.

As he reached for the tap with his right hand… he watched with growing horror as black ink began to spread on that hand as well, from the palm to the tips of his fingers.

Now, he needed to see Reed.

The young hero yanked the bedroom door open, leaving black ink prints and raced down the hall. "Reed!" he called, at the top of his lungs.

Jennifer's Room - 4:57AM

"… still don't know what is causing this." Peter spoke in a near whisper.

Frown in place, Jennifer stared up at the ceiling. "I'm puzzled too, Webhead," she replied. "Never seen anything like it before." The taller woman clearly remembered Reed's face as the panicked scientist scrambled to explain this new phenomenon.

In front of Reed, Peter squirted some soap on his hands and began to lather up. A few seconds in, he held up his hand.

"What?" the older scientist asked, his eyes widening.

"Mm," Peter grunted in reply. Once he was done washing his hands, he turned around and held his hands out to Reed.

Both men watched as the black ink slowly crept back up Peter's hands. They stared at each other.

"Is there a way you can fix this? Or at least figure out where it came from?" Jen asked. She was just as, if not more, puzzled than the two men.

Peter shrugged. "We don't know… Just… It's not spreading any further."

"Odd," she remarked. "If I didn't know any better, Parker, I'd think you were being fingerprinted."

Peter nodded, growing a bit pale. "That does make sense… but how? And by whom?" Goosebumps rose on his skin.

Unknown Location

October 16th – 12PM

"… this part always makes me worried," Perry commented, lightly biting into the nail on his thumb.

"That… we can agree on that," Krieg responded. He looked ahead from the safety of an observation window.

Peter Parker was standing in the middle of what appeared to be a training room, arms at his sides. He was wearing a helmet that secured a full-faced mask in place. The hose coming from it connected to the back of the helmet; a compressed version of the gas used to keep him unaware being steadily fed to his lungs. He was bare chested, wireless electrodes sticking to his skin. His lower body was clad in white spandex, which led down into white costume boots.

"Show time…" Krieg stated, looking at Perry. Lifting the microphone, Krieg spoke into it. "Pay attention… and don't get killed."

Reacting as expected to a sound behind him, Peter twisted away from an attack.

On a secondary screen, Krieg and Perry could view the 'fight,' which was entirely smoke and mirrors. The men were able to see what Peter did.

In reaction to a swipe from Venom, Peter had thrown himself backward. The muscles in his legs flexed as his feet remained firmly planted. He was leaning so far that his head was hovering above the hard surface under him.

"Is… he floating in the air?" Pery asked, rubbing his eyes. How could anyone have such a command of their body?

Pulling his upper body around again, Peter leapt backwards several feet, flipping in the air and landing on the wall.

Krieg's yellow eyes widened, watching as Peter reacted to what he thought was an attack by one of his more intimate enemies.

Anyone else observing would have thought the young hero was fighting open air.

Peter had crept up onto the ceiling and hurled himself towards Venom. He moved his hands as if he was activating his web shooters. To him, he hit Venom, using the webbing to affect a capture. Then, he raced around and over the symbiote, tying it up.

"Impressive," Perry remarked, leaning forward to view the screen.

When Peter was done, he stepped back from Venom, but made no additional moves towards it.

"Why isn't he killing it?" Krieg asked, aloud. Grabbing the microphone, he gave another command. "Kill it!" he yelled.

Despite his words, Peter stood off to the side, keeping his eyes on Venom, but not making any additional moves. He was breathing heavily.

"Um…" Perry locked eyes with his partner. "Is something wrong with his dosage?"

Sighing and putting the microphone down, Krieg grimaced. "We need to put him in for another evaluation." So… it seems you're still resisting me. Even after all this time.

The Bugle – 1:48PM

Sighing heavily at his desk, Peter stared at the smooth surface. His camera and assignment sheet were in front of him—yet he was making no moves towards it. If I just imagined my family…. he thought, mournfully, shouldn't I be forgetting them now? His eyes welled with tears. But he didn't want to forget them.

Not Jen.

Not Chip.

"I never got to meet her," he whispered, tears trickling down his cheeks. The aching in his chest would be there for some time. The pain of losing something… someone so close and precious to him. He was powerless. Utterly incapable to fix what he was told wasn't broken.

To him, he was. His heart was completely broken.

He couldn't do anything.

"Chip…" he whimpered, bursting into tears. Feeling defeated, he lowered his head to his desk, pressing his forehead against the firm surface.

Startled at the sound, several of Peter's fellow photographers peeked over their desk partitions.

The young man was so immersed in his grief that he gave them no mind. His shoulders shook.

Baxter Building – 3:01PM

Peter lay curled up on the couch in the main room, hugging a pillow to his chest. His eyes were fixed forwards, but he wasn't looking at anything in particular.

Reed sat in a chair across from him. He was surprised to see that Peter was home so early… until the young man explained what happened. For once, Jameson showed compassion and told the young photographer to take a few days of paid leave. No questions, no insults or unkind jabs. Jameson just… sent him home.

Sighing, Peter looked down at the pillow, sighing.

"… Peter?" Reed spoke, keeping his voice low. He'd done the same when Peter first came to them. It hadn't been that long either, but the young man was worsening in front of him. He wasn't this bad his first day here… Reed grimly acknowledged. He wasn't certain what had happened.

Face downcast, Peter turned his gaze to Reed.

"Want to tell me what happened?"

Swallowing hard, Peter shook his head.

Not yet. He couldn't.

"Stretch…" Jennifer spoke, after entering the room. "What is-?" she looked down, seeing Peter on the couch, with a forlorn expression. "Umm…?"

Swallowing hard, Reed gestured to her. "Just the person I need."

The green woman pointed a thumb at herself, left brow shooting up. "… Me?"

"I miss them so much…" Peter whispered, his eyes red from crying.

Frowning and looking at Peter, Jennifer lowered herself to the couch, being careful not to get herself stuck. The binding she wore helped immensely, but she did lose a bit of flexibility. "What can I do?" she asked, turning her gaze to Reed.

Reed weighed his words carefully before he spoke, trying to piece together all the pieces. "It would seem…" his eyes drifted to their young friend. "He was sent home for a few days off on paid leave. He isn't…" Pausing, Reed shook his head. "He isn't faring well at all, Jen."

"I see…" Redirecting her attention to Peter, she gently pat his leg. "Hey…"

Peter lifted his head and turned towards her.

"Come here," Jennifer said, holding her arms open. Worriedly, she bit her bottom lip. I need to stop indulging this strange fantasy he has, she thought as Peter willingly crawled into her arms. He resumed sobbing, feeling her familiar form.

Unknown Location – Same Time

"This doesn't make sense," Krieg murmured, stroking his chin. "He willingly did everything else."

"Maybe he just doesn't kill?" Perry asked. He was less bothered about it than his partner. After all, they didn't need Peter to kill anyone… did they?

"He needs to obey my every command," the purple man replied. "By that, I mean all of them."

"There was nothing for him to kill," Perry pointed out.

"Didn't matter," the other man retorted. "Even if he 'saw' his enemy, he should have still listened when I told him to go for the kill."

Perry sighed.

"The only way we can ever hope to achieve peace… is with war."

Quieting immediate, the brunet man was worried. This really was a mistake. He never should have agreed to work with this man. He had initially wondered what the true motivation for all of this was… and he was beginning to understand.

Again, prone inside the tube, Peter laid still.

…Then, his eyes slowly blinked open, the pupils constricting. What?

Baxter Building – Same Time

Seeing something just past the couch, Peter straightened up. In front of him, a purple man stood there, stroking his chin. Soundlessly, he rose to his feet, taking a step past the couch. The room around him melted away… and he found himself looking up through a thick pane of glass. What is…?

Unknown Location

"You know we'll have to adjust the dosage again," the purple man commented, his back to the enclosure.

"Agreed."

"He's just… adapting to it too quickly." It was strange… At first, they hadn't needed as much to keep the webslinger sedated.

Peter watched, unable to speak, as one of them plugged commands into a screen.

Then… all he saw was darkness.

October 22nd – 10:52AM

The Bugle

A few more taps on the keyboard and Peter hit the save on the document. Then… he sent it through email. Letting out a moan of relief, he leaned back in his seat.

"Tired already?" a masculine voice asked.

Looking over, Peter snorted. "Hardly. I just hate paperwork." Frowning, he stood up and grabbed his camera. "Gonna see if I can get this shoot done early."

It was such a fantastic task for today.

There was a local man who claimed to have caught the biggest catfish. And Peter had the honor of taking pictures of the supposed record-buster. Why do I always get the slimy things? Peter asked himself, climbing onto his bicycle and pedaling off.

One Hour Later…

Peter cleared his throat in acknowledgement. Instead of just letting him get a few good shots of the fish, he'd been led down memory lane. I wonder if this is why Jameson gave me this one?

If so…

What a twisted mind!

Baxter Building – 4:52PM

Common Room

Clad only in a pair of sweatpants, Peter sat cross-legged on the couch, a notebook in his lap. Flipping to the third page, he removed the pen and wrote down the date.

This was a suggestion of Reed's.

Maybe journalling would help?

Anything has to be better than this… Peter thought, saddened.

Or maybe not…

'Date: October 22nd

Dear Jen,

I'm sorry hon. I'm so sorry. I don't know what's happened. I don't know where I am. Everyone is telling me that you and our baby don't exist. I can't accept that. I refuse to.

Reed suggested I put my thoughts to paper. Maybe that way, I can 'get over' all of this. But I don't want to 'get over' you.

I still remember the first day we met. You pack quite a punch, Jenny. What I wouldn't do to be slapped by you now.

Strange?

Probably so. At least though, I would know you were alive.

Before I met you, Jennifer, my life wasn't in the best place. I had given up… in several ways. For a bit, I even hung up my tights.

Now though?

I want to see you again, despite your weird cravings and grumpy moments.

I miss you so much, baby.

Love You,

Pete.'

Finished writing, he sighed heavily and closed the book. Was this form of 'therapy' going to help? He was uncertain; however, he knew that writing had helped him feel a little bit better.

"I wonder what Becca is up to?" he asked aloud. Despite the suggestions and urgings, he was continuing to cling to memories that he knew couldn't be faked. Something else must be at work. Maybe… what I saw?

He hadn't mentioned the purple-skinned man he'd seen… nor the glass enclosure he was in. Is… is that my reality?

Food for thought.

Unknown Location – Same Time

"This should go better now," Krieg remarked.

"Your… enthusiasm…" Perry spoke… his words dripping with sarcasm. "It's contagious."

Again, Peter was in the training room.

The goal was different this time.

"Try not to get squished," the purple man spoke into the microphone.

Looking behind him, Peter saw a boulder…. And it was barreling right towards him. Whipping around, the young hero began running.

Krieg watched on the screen how the boulder seemed to change positions and kept threatening him.

In reality, Peter was running in circles around the training room, getting to a point that he was moving diagonally around the room. His speed was beyond impressive.

"I…" Perry tilted his head at the true feed. "I didn't know he could run across ceilings."

Observing for a moment, Krieg cleared his throat. "I didn't either." Yellow brows furrowed. "I have an idea."

"Really?" Perry asked.

Stepping to a console, Krieg began typing in commands. The scene on the screen changed.

Now, Peter saw himself scaling a building. The familiarity of the act was tied to painful events now. His heart began to race as he continued to climb. Peter had no way to know that he was crawling up the wall, over the ceiling, along the opposite wall and across the floor. All he knew was that he had to hurry and get there!

But… Get where?

As Peter continued to scale the walls, Perry continued to study the readout on the young hero's vitals. "Umm… Krieg?"

"One moment," the blond replied.

Frowning, Perry continued to watch the readout. Something was wrong. Peter's respiration was getting too fast.

Jenny! the young hero thought. He still had very vivid memories of his encounters with Bruce, both of them involving him climbing a building. He scrambled faster, feeling his muscles burning.

"Krieg!" Perry called, annoyed that his partner wasn't paying attention.

Abruptly, Peter stopped right on the ceiling. He shook his head and looked around. Not again!" he mentally grumbled. Seeing this strange place was more disturbing. One moment, he was somewhere else... and now he's suddenly here.

Again.

Hesitantly, he turned his head towards the observation window and dropped down to the floor.

"Is he supposed to do that?" Perry asked.

The webslinger was walking directly to them, as if he was completely aware of what was going on.

Krieg swallowed hard. "Send down more of that gas!"

"I was trying to warn you!" Perry stated. "He's been breathing so hard that he's reduced the overall flow."

"What?!"

Peter held up his hands, looking at them. He didn't understand.

He wasn't in the Baxter Building.

He wasn't at work.

He wasn't pestering Jennifer in her room.

Wait a moment...

He raised his head, struggling to free himself from the mask.

"Calm down!" the voice came through the speakers.

For a moment, Peter froze. Then, his movements became more frantic.

"Stop it!" Krieg called. Not wanting to take any chances, he reached towards Peter in the training room, pulling his own ability to the forefront. He'd needed to use it a few times already. As his yellow eyes glowed, he noticed Perry's agitation next to him.

"Maybe this is a bad idea," he began. "He keeps overriding the gases."

"What would you suggest?" Krieg asked. "Mutant versus mutant battle royale?"

"Oh, no." Perry shook his head. "He'd end up beating you easily."

"Gee…" the purple man grumbled. "Such confidence." Keeping his eyes on Peter, he kept working until he noticed the young man freezing in place.

The two men grasped the stunned webswinger and placed him back into the glass enclosure. As they removed the helmet, his expression made both of them pull back.

Peter's pupils had dilated so much that his irises were nearly obscured.

First… a faint whimper… "Pete?" Desperate brown eyes focused on him. Her jaw trembled. She was perspiring heavily, hair plastered to her forehead.

The young hero looked up, panicked. "Jen… what's is it?" He was pale and sweaty and wiped wet hands off on his sweatpants.

He kept looking back and forth between the landline and his wife.

The brunette was currently kneeling on all fours in front of their fireplace—partially transfixed by the roaring flames. She was only wearing a sports bra and was completely bare from the waist down, several towels under her. Her enlarged belly clenched again, and she grit her teeth, then gave voice to her pain. A piercing scream ripped through the air. Her fingers dug into one of the towels.

'Can you check to see what's going on?' a feminine voice asked through the speaker of the phone.

A bit jumpy, Peter went to do just that when Jennifer tightly gripped his thighs.

Her teeth were grinding together.

"Let go! I have to look!"

The brunette's eyes widened abruptly, and she let out another whimper, feeling the warm flow of liquid between her legs. "I…" She began shaking, frightened. "It's…" So, it would seem that the petite woman was just starting to fully realize what was happening. The sharp increase in pain caught her by surprise, and her eyes slammed shut.

"Jen?" The young man hesitated… and his wife replied with the loudest howl he'd ever heard from her.

She lowered her head, trying to remember the breathing techniques that she'd learned… that seemed to not help at all right then. The memories of them were completely gone. Her muscles were working hard without her cooperation, and she grunted, working with them instead of trying to avoid it.

Peter became alarmed, at the new sounds. He also noticed she was intermittently squeezing his thighs along with her grunts.

"Jen?" he asked, growing more pale. He swallowed hard. He had to stay awake. He just had to! His eyes drifted to the windows, watching the snow as the storm outside continued to rage. Why couldn't it have snowed the next week like it was supposed to?! The biggest blizzard they'd had in quite some time and they were both trapped inside.

He mused that it was a good thing he had made it home in time, though their car was stuck at the bottom of the driveway, the snow too high for it.

'Is she pushing?' the voice asked. 'Check her and let me know.'

"Jenny, please!" Peter yelped, trying to pry her nails out of his thighs. Even in her human form, she was unusually strong.

'Mister Parker?' the voice asked.

The brunette forced herself to open her hands and sunk her nails back into the towel. She reflected on how she had been shot, endured a devastating back injury that could have paralyzed her, was stabbed and beaten… but this was the worse pain she'd suffered in her life.

Freed, Peter quickly crawled around her to look. 'I… I—I think I see the top of the baby's head."

His words coincided with another cry from Jen. She panted, shaking her head. "I can't…" she gasped. "I—Can't…" she whimpered, tears filling her eyes and dripping onto her hands.

"I changed my mind," she yelled, "I don't want to do this!" Not at home. Not at home! She was supposed to be in the birthing center they'd chosen. Not here with only her husband for aid.

What if something happened?

Peter lifted his head. "No offense Jenny, but it's a bit too late for that." He watched with curious fascination, seeing his child slowly making its way into the world.

'Get ready, Papa!' the voice on the line called.

Obediently, Peter held his hands out like he was about to catch a football. "On it!" he called back.

"… and I'm in it!" Jennifer snapped, momentarily seeing stars from the pain. It felt like she was being torn apart. She gasped, squeezing the material under her hands. If she'd been in her hulk form, it was likely she would have destroyed the floor at this point.

'Push hard, Jen!' the voice called.

"You push you—" her words dissolved into a cry of exertion.

Peter noticed a sudden change. "She's coming!" he raised his voice.

'Support the head!'

He reached out to help. The webslinger wasn't certain what he felt as his hands touched Chip's skin for the first time. The color had fully returned to his face, a growing smile in place. "Head's out!"

His words coincided with a loud sigh of relief from Jen. "I am never having sex ever again!"

Peter flinched.

'Make sure the cord isn't around the neck!'

He quickly checked. "It's not there!"

'Jennifer, I need you to—'

"Already on it!" she growled.

Peter found himself suddenly scrambling as the baby's slippery body came out in a rush. "Baby's out!"

Panting, Jennifer lowered herself to her side.

Baxter Building

Peter's Room

His eyes popped open. "Jen?!" The young man sat up abruptly, lifting his left hand to massage one side of his head. "…H—How?" Looking around, he saw himself on the bed he was given by the Fantastic Four. It was a mercy on their part to even let him stay there. His behavior of late had been… questionable.

He and Bruce were slowly becoming amicable. Though, the scientist gave Peter a wide berth when they were in the same area.

"But…" Hazel eyes widened, pupils constricting. What was that? "Wait…" He pinched himself, wincing from the pain.

His head turned to the bedside clock.

October 22nd—9:52PM

"…How?" he repeated. Groaning softly, he grasped his pajama shirt with his right hand, trying to get comfortable again. He was already drifting off again before a brief thought passed through. I don't remember her having Chip…

Times Square

October 23rd – 7:02AM

Peter didn't even attempt to suppress his yawn.

A loud snort was heard overhead. "You know that's contagious, don't you?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Everyone does it, Jen." He was rewarded with a husky laugh.

"Can't disagree with that," she replied, smirking.

"Any clue what we're looking for?" he asked. Ever since the incident here with the Hulk, they were all trying to get more details about that headband.

But…

It seemed like all of the clues were gone.

The one time I hoped no one cleaned well, he mentally grumbled.

"This time?" she asked. "Nah."

Behind his mask, one of Peter's brows rose. "Really?" What are we here for?

"Figured it might be time we both get some closure out here."

Goosebumps rose on Peter's flesh when he heard that. What does that mean? "Jen?"

Sighing heavily, Jennifer kept walking. "We were both injured out here," she clarified. "I figured going to the place itself might be all we need."

Peter was quiet. She was right, of course, but being here still bothered him.

It wasn't difficult at all to figure out where the fight had been. All they needed to look for were missing streetlamps and other calculated damage to the area. The closer they got, the more uncomfortable Peter felt.

He cleared his throat, keeping his focus forward. Something ahead of them caught his attention. "It… Jen!" Not waiting for her, he rushed forward. Right there, giving off a faint gleam from under some of the still remaining metal beams—was a segment of headband.

"Huh." She was genuinely surprised. "Good catch, Webhead."

"Now, all we need to do is get this back to Reed and—"

"Hold on," Jennifer spoke, interrupting him. "You…"

Peter swallowed hard. Around him, the images he saw—even Jennifer herself—they were all cracking and crumbling on the edges. He was momentarily blinded by a burst of bright light.

Unknown Location – Same Time

This time, when Peter opened his eyes, he understood what was happening. Keeping his breathing even, he moved his head enough so he could see some of what was around him. Various electrodes were attached to him… and he could see directly through the glass in front of him. It's lies… he realized, with growing anger.

All of it.

All lies.

Despite the bit of weakness he felt, he slowly forced his hands to move. When he was able to reach the mask, he ripped it off his face. "Let me out," he struggled to speak at first. The next few gulps of air were helping immensely. As more strength returned, his awareness of the situation snapped into focus.

He'd been lied to. He wanted to know why. And the only way to get those answers was to get out of this tube. "Let me out!" he raised his voice, along with his right fist. One punch to the glass led to another and another.

It as unsettling how well the glass was holding up.

Another thought flit across his mind's eye.

His wife…

His baby…

They needed him.

Very.

Wrong.

A shadowy figure moved. They seemed to be hesitating, unsure.

"I'm warning you!" Peter shouted. He was putting more and more force into his blows.

"You're not getting out," they hissed in reply. "Not until you give me what I want."

Rage increasing, Peter noticed a curious darkness was clouding his vision. Soon he saw nothing.

"No…" The figure slammed their fist against a red button.

"N… No…" the shadowy figure gasped, turning and running out of the room.

Vision returning, he blinked hard a few times. Emerging from inside the chamber, Peter breathed heavily, glaring at the person fleeing. He gave them five seconds… then took of after them. One thing became clear after Peter abandoned the main room.

He had absolutely no clue where he was.

He needed to get home. His real home.

Whomever this was—they could wait.

Family First.

His chase quickly turned into a search. For an escape. There had to be a door or window… somewhere. Finding a side door after turning another corner, he shoved it open and looked around. "Sunlight!" he gasped. Sprinting the length of the room, he tensed the muscles in his legs and leapt at the lone window in there. The glass shattered under the force, shards cutting into his skin.

He didn't care.

He also had no clue he was so high up. The young hero twisted his body around and oriented himself, pulling his legs into position as he slammed into another building twenty feet away. Panting, he turned around on the building, glancing up at the broken window. Looking down at himself, he saw the bare muscles of his abdomen flexing as he breathed, blood slowly running down from various small cuts on his body. He was wearing some strange white spandex pants… and he didn't have his webshooters.

Climbing to the top of the building, he looked around. "Where am I?" Squinting, he glanced left… then right.

Baxter Building

Main Room

"You need to eat something," Susan stated, dropping onto the couch. Her brown hair was a bit disheveled.

Tilting her head back, Jennifer focused amber-hued eyes on the ceiling. "I know," she murmured. "I don't have much of an appetite lately."

The brunette was quiet… a frown in place. What could she say really? They were able to get something into Jen…

But…

If Jennifer didn't have much of an appetite…

Huh… "Well, I know something that could help with that."

Looking at her, Jennifer raised one dark brow. "Like what?"

Keeping her tone light, Susan got up and reached out her hands to help Jen off the couch. "Help me fix breakfast?"

"Hmm…" Accepting the help, she stretched a little once she was upright. "Isn't it a bit late for that?"

Grinning, Susan shrugged. "It's never too late for breakfast."

"Oh…" Pondering over that, Jennifer nodded. "I suppose I—" Her words were cut off by a banging noise.

It was very close to them.

The women looked first at each other, then in the direction of the sound.

Partly obscured by the sunlight behind them, a figure was on the window, sticking to the flat surface. Which shouldn't have been possible. The physique was very familiar.

Jennifer's eyes widened, her mouth dropping open in shock. "Peter…?"

Parallel Worlds - Parallel Lives (Alternate Universe)

10AM

He'd found it! His breath catching in his throat, Peter clambered up the side of the building until he reached one of the windows. When he looked inside… He saw Jennifer and Susan speaking.

Human Jennifer.

He pounded on the window to get their attention. When he did, his eyes widened. He wasn't able to hear what Jennifer said, but that didn't matter.

Getting to her did.

Not bothering with decorum, he leveraged the majority of his body away from the side of the building, save his left hand… and swung his legs into the glass window. It shattered on impact. Maneuvering carefully, he threw his body through the hole. He landed on the shards of glass in a crouch.

Unable to speak, Susan turned her attention to Jen. Is… was it possible? Thinking quickly, she slammed her hand into her communicator. When it became live, she choked out a few words. "Main… Room… Come." Susan didn't hear a response, unable to past the pounding in her ears.

Jennifer raised a hand to her mouth, tears filling her eyes.

Straightening up and hissing from a fresh cut in his right palm, he slowly walked to Jennifer. Is this… He'd seen so much.

So much had happened… and he was worried that he was seeing things again. But… as he stepped closer, he was able to see the pop ring he'd given Jen on a chain around her neck. "Jenny?" he finally asked, focused on her face. "Are you real?" His own eyes misted over.

Am I home? Or am I where they want me to be? He wasn't sure… and that was frightening to him. Shaky now, partly from blood loss, he continued to approach.

Some of the more alarming things Jennifer became aware of, aside from the various cuts on his body… were the questions he voiced. What happened to him?

"I kept looking for you," he continued. Hazel-hued eyes traveled from her face to her left hand, light bouncing off her wedding ring… something he'd never thought he would see again. "But everyone kept telling me I was dreaming."

Licking suddenly dry lips, Jennifer's shoulders sagged. "I'm right here, Pete," she replied.

"And… A—And… they told me Chip didn't exist either." He stopped walking, ten feet away from her.

Reed hurried into the room. He'd been at the main computer, observing the monitors, when Sue called him. He did a double take. Is…?

"We're very real, Pete." Jen replied, walking closer to him. As she neared him, she was further worried at all the cuts he sustained. How can he stand up at all? "I promise."

Peter held his breath briefly, wondering if she was going to disappear. His understanding of reality was completely warped at this point.

"Peter?" Reed asked. Glancing at Sue, he saw the brunette nod. Eyes narrowing, he took in the younger man's appearance. Who did this to him?

Jennifer continued to walk until she was within reach. Grasping his left hand, she guided it to her belly. "I promise, Pete… We're really here. And we… I… I missed you so much."

Feeling the gentle movement under his fingers, his features scrunched up. "You… Y—You're really here…"

Jennifer nodded. She looked over her shoulder. "Reed?" she asked. Redirecting her attention to Peter, she sighed heavily. "He needs some medical attention." Seeing how dramatically his eyes widened, Jennifer placed both hands over his. "I'm going with you," she assured him.

"Is… I—I—I didn't mean to hurt him," Peter stuttered. He remembered well how close he'd come to harming Bruce. His memories of what he was told was his reality… against the truth were warring for space inside his mind.

"I can fix up the physical wounds, Jen," Reed replied. "But I can't… I can't fix everything." The scientist left a few words unsaid.

None of them knew what Peter had experienced… or where he was. Physically he was back with them, but mentally and emotionally…

"Come on, Pete." Jennifer spoke softly, taking hold of his left hand and lightly pulling him with her over to Reed.

Lower Levels

"I'm as baffled as you are," Reed spoke, using a cotton ball that was soaked with alcohol… to treat Peter's various cuts. At currently, he was working on one of the young hero's shoulders.

The webslinger was seated on one of the medical beds in there, Jennifer right next to him for support.

"It…" Peter shook his head and looked at Jen's round belly and the streaks of blood he'd left on the front of her shirt. "Reed told me that I was really home…" Words trailing off… he sighed. "Jen was the only one who believed me…"

Frowning at that, Reed made eye contact with Jennifer. What is he talking about? Reed wondered.

"We eventually ended up in Times Square… fighting against Bruce in his hulk form. I… I refused to let her confront him alone."

Jennifer gave his hand a brief squeeze.

"But… she was hurt and I… I…"

Jennifer shushed him. "You don't have to say anything else about it, Pete. Not if it's going to upset you so badly.

"I saw you too," he remarked, looking in her eyes. "Like now. I had so many dreams about you."

"Of what?" she asked. After a moment, she straightened up in her seat.

Peter was unresponsive, his pupils widening.

"No!" the young hero laughed, beginning a brisk walk.

A high-pitched squeal was the response.

Jennifer sat on the grass, grinning as a small form in a purple cat onesie ran past her, the outfit's little tail swinging.

Peter continued to 'run' after the little one. "You better run!" he called. "The tickle monster's gonna get you!"

There was high-pitched laughter, and the speedster kept running.

Peter pretended to be tired and laid on his back in the grass. "Okay!" he said. "You win!"

Smirking, Jennifer got up, grabbing a plastic container.

The child turned and hurried over to him, holding out little hands, simulating an airplane in flight.

"Zoom!" Peter called, sitting up. He was not disappointed when the little one rushed right to him and into his open arms.

"Ready for a snack?" Jennifer asked. She was holding a Tupperware container. Plopping down on the grass, she opened it and picked up a small, soft piece of carrot, handing it over.

"What about me?" Peter asked, poking out his bottom lip.

Jennifer blushed. "Pete, you have all of your teeth. Chip only has eight of them."

"But…"

"No."

"…Fine," he pouted. Reaching over then, he planted a kiss on Jen's cheek. Without warning, he startled tickling her.

The young brunette was helpless to fend off the 'attack' and burst into laughter instead, lying on her back.

Intrigued, Chip joined them.

Wide brown eyes stared into the mirror, and he sucked in a deep breath. What's happening to me? he wondered, afraid.

"Are you with us?" Jennifer asked, standing next to him. She was finishing off a ham and cheese sandwich. She and Reed had maneuvered Peter into the bathroom. The webslinger needed a shower… and a change of clothes.

"Not… not fully… but I will be," he responded. What he saw didn't cause him distress, but was unexpected. Will that happen one day? he asked himself. "It's… it's been a rough few days, Jenny."

"Weeks you mean," she commented, licking her fingers.

Both brows raised, Peter turned to her.

"You've been missing for three weeks," Jennifer added.

Mouth dropping open, Peter tried to absorb what she was saying.

It… made sense.

He had missed three weeks with his wife. Three weeks with his family. He'd been gone… for nearly an entire month. His eyes became heavily lidded, and he made an internal vow to find out who had done this to him.

"You need a shower," she remarked, lightly tugging on his hand.

"You're right," he replied, being pulled from darker thoughts. Then… something occurred to him. "How are you?" He clearly remembered now… She was suffering from some strange malady.

Sighing… Jennifer pursed her lips. Now is not the time. "We're fine," she replied, smiling. "And again…" here, her nose twitched. "You need a shower. Badly."

"Only if you join me."

She snorted. "Peter, there is no space for both of us in there. Look at me!"

"Jen, there's enough space in there for us," he replied. Looking at her belly, he lightly pat her side. "You also need a shower." He wasn't comfortable seeing her in blood-stained clothes.

Making a face, Jennifer nodded. "If you say so…"

Twenty minutes later, Jennifer was wrapped in a towel and seated on the side of their bed, using a second towel to dry her hair. He was right... she acknowledged. She needed a shower just as much as he did.

Peter walked back in and plopped down right next to her. He let out a happy sigh and leaned back on his hands.

"Better?" she asked.

He grunted in agreement.

"Uhh…" Jennifer looked at him closely. "Going to shave?" she asked. While he was gone, Peter had grown some facial hair.

Frowning at the question, Peter got up and walked back into the bathroom. He'd noticed he had a slight moustache and beard growing, but that was it. But… if it makes her happy… He located the razor he used for shaving.

While he was gone, Jennifer dropped the towel that was around her body and dug out one of her new night gowns, slipping it on. Sitting back down on the bed, she resumed drying her hair. It was humiliating to admit… but she didn't want her husband to see her body more than he already had. Even their shared shower had made her nervous.

So much had changed while he was gone… and she was feeling more than a little self-conscious.

Freshly shaved, Peter returned to their room, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth before he could speak. Her gown fit much differently than the shirt.

Looking over, Jennifer offered him a smile. "Hi, Pete." When she didn't get a response, she became concerned. Is he…

Soundlessly, Peter closed the door and walked over to her, reaching the communicator on their nightstand.

"Pete?" she asked, noticing that his eyes looked a little wild.

"Reed?" Peter asked after activating the communicator.

"Yes?" Reed replied.

"Umm… Is…" Peter slowly turned his neck to look at Jennifer.

Her eyes widened.

"Is my wife still on pelvic rest?"

There was a moment of hesitation on Reed's end as the scientist tried to absorb the question. "Can… can you repeat that?" he asked.

Jennifer's mouth dropped open. What is he…?

"Is she on pelvic rest?" Peter repeated the question, never moving his eyes away from his wife's face.

"No…" Reed replied slowly. "We've stabilized her condition."

Saying nothing further, Peter cut the communication. Lowering his head, he pressed a kiss to Jennifer's neck.

"But… m—my body…" she whispered, her cheeks growing warm.

"Shh…"

To Be Continued

Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed! Now… as much as it pains me to say it... I need a break. A real one, not an imaginary something that I'll never actually accomplish. I have pounded my way through nearly two hundred pages of fresh content. My brain and my body need a break.

I'll note, I slingshot my way through this chapter in a day. Last night, I was on page 9… if that makes any sense. It is now nearly 5PM after I took a brief nap.

It was because I wanted to complete this particular… frightening arc, before taking a hiatus.

See y'all in a few weeks, or a couple months.

Whenever I can look at my screen and stop drooling on myself at the idea of writing anything else creatively.

~ March 10, 2025

After Edit Note: I have never flown so quickly through an edit on a chapter this massive. It was a lot of fun.

~ March 11, 2025

I'll see y'all next chapter.

Whenever that is!

XXO

~J. Lyst