Spider-Man: Destiny - Year 2
Chapter 14: Tremors
…
Peter gasped awake in the dark. His sheets were twisted around his legs. Sweat clung to his skin like glue. In the distance, a siren wailed and faded. The nightmare still clung to the back of his eyes.
Peter defeating the Vulture in the docks. Foreigner dying on the floor at Fisk Tower. Silver Sable raging as she fought Fisk. The ensuing chaos. The sirens. The fire. The screams. The earth-shattering sound and impact of Fisk Tower collapsing in on itself.
Peter pressed his palm against his face. His hands were trembling. He looked out at his window. The city felt asleep, and peaceful. Peter checked his phone and saw that the time was 6:15 in the morning. He rolled over, trying to fall asleep. Unsurprisingly, it was impossible.
…
Peter moved through the hallway at school like a ghost. Keeping a hoodie over his head, Peter walked over to his locker. Flash Thomspon passed by, and smirked as he walked over to Peter. Peter's enhanced senses warned him, but he begrudgingly allowed himself to get pushed against his locker by Flash.
"Sup, Parker?" Flash chuckled.
"Morning, Thompson," Peter responded.
"Sophomore year going alright so far? Get any less girls than you already do?"
"Not today, bro."
"Hell are you gonna do about it, man?"
Peter sighed. "Have a good day, Flash."
Flash scoffed and walked off. "Bitch."
Rolling his eyes, Peter opened his locker and grabbed his chemistry textbook. His phone vibrated, and Peter pulled it out to see an article sent by Harry.
HARRY OSBORN: DUDEEE. Frckin crazy shit wtf
Corrupt Judge Found Murdered. Eyewitnesses Report Mysterious Flying "Beetle" Creature As The Killer
"God, help me," Peter muttered as he reluctantly started reading the article, walking through the hallway.
…
"Ham, turkey, pepperoni, swiss cheese, lettuce, pickles, olives, mustard, mayo," Peter said to the worker at the school's sandwich shop.
The worker started making Peter's sandwich, and Peter went to the cashier to pay. The worker handed Peter his sandwich after he paid.
"Thanks," Peter said as he walked off with his sandwich.
…
Peter walked out to the courtyard connecting the East and West buildings. Sitting on one of the benches near the fountain, Peter started eating his sandwich.
"Looks tasty."
Peter turned to see the familiar punk-rock blonde. Gwen walked up to Peter, puffing on a vape pen.
"You know how bad that shit is for your lungs?" Peter commented.
"So is waking up in this city sometimes," Gwem muttered, blowing a thin stream of vapor through her nose. "Just gotta be numb every once in a while."
Peter shrugged. "Guess we'll have to agree to disagree on that."
Peter took another bite of his sandwich, and Gwen sat down next to him, taking another hit from her pen.
"Dude, aren't there cameras around here?" Peter pointed out.
"No. I know, trust me," Gwen insisted.
"How?"
"Trust me, no cameras. I know this shit. Especially when your dad's a police captain."
Peter's eyes widened. "Wait. Your dad's Captain Stacy? Wait, last name. Right."
Gwen chuckled. "Yeah. Trust me. Been counting down the days 'til he can retire. Which isn't for at least another decade, unfortunately."
"Damn. That's seriously gotta be something. But it's also super cool. Actually."
"It's got its moments, for sure. But the amount of days where I just worry about the guy getting shot out there. It's just… yeah, not exactly fun."
"Sorry to hear that. I really am."
"Thanks. I love the hell out of the man. It's like, he's literally one of the most open-minded people you'll ever meet. He's not like any of those scummy cops."
"Doesn't sound like it. Out of curiosity, what are his thoughts on superheroes? Vigilantes. The Avengers. Daredevil. Punisher. Spider-Man?" Peter questioned.
Gwen took another hit of her pen. "For him, it's all about intention. Why they're doin' it. Dad likes the Avengers. Granted, he thinks Iron Man's an dgomaniac, but I know Cap was one of his inspirations for becoming a cop."
"Oh, that's sick," Peter said.
"Yeah. He hasn't said much about Daredevil. He's not a fan of the Punisher. And he likes Spider-Man. Thinks the guy's genuinely trying to help. And honestly, I agree," Gwen stated.
Peter smiled. "Yeah, he seems like a great dude."
"He's honestly what we need right now, in my opinion."
"Definitely. I totally agree. I think the guy's just doing his best to help, and some people just shit on the dude too much."
"Seconded."
"Seems like we got a lot in common."
Gwen chuckled. "We do?"
"Well, we're the only juniors in our chem class," Peter pointed out.
"That's true. Gotta be nice being second best," Gwen said with a smirk.
Peter smirked back. "Real bold of you."
Gwen lightly punched Peter in the arm. "I'm just teasing. Maybe."
Peter felt a few butterflies before responding. "Y-yeah, of course you're just kidding."
Gwen checked her phone for the time. "Crap. Got to go call my mom. It's her lunch break right now and she wanted to talk about Breaking Bad."
"You've seen Breaking Bad? Literally best show ever," Peter commented.
Gwen's eyes widened. "Right? Like, the acting, writing, yeah."
"Let's discuss it some time."
"For sure, but I got to go now. See you around, dude,."
"Later, Gwen."
Gwen walked off, and Peter proceeded to continue eating his sandwich.
…
Peter walked through the hallway, listening to music through his earbuds. A hand grabbed his shoulder, and Peter looked to see it was Harry.
"S'up, bro?" Harry greeted.
Peter took off his earbuds. "Not much. How about you, man?"
"Well, the school's first football game is next Friday. And we should totally go."
"Yeah… not my thing, in all honesty."
"Knew you were gonna say that, but come on, dude. We're sophomores. Gotta get more of the high school experience before we graduate. You know?" Harry pointed out.
"Yeah, I totally get that. I do. But I'm just not into sports. I mean, my uncle took me to a few baseball games as a kid, and it just wasn't my thing," Peter explained.
"Yeah, but you're not a kid anymore. I mean, you are, but you know what I mean. You don't even have to go for the game, man. The food trucks, the cheerleaders, makin' new friends?"
"Got to admit it sounds slightly more tempting when you point all that out."
"So you down?"
At that moment, Kong passed by. "Yo, boys! Overheard something about coming to the game? You gotta!"
"That's what I'm saying!" Harry exclaimed.
"Pete, come on, man. We could really use more brain cells in the crowd."
"See?! We need you, man!" Harry emphasized.
Peter chuckled. "Okay. I'll be there."
"Sick shit," Kong said, giving both Peter and Harry a fist bump.
"The Chick-fil-A cart is gonna go hard," Harry commented.
Peter's eyes widened. "Wait. What?"
…
The midday sun blazed high over New York City, casting warm light over the streets below. Swinging through the city as Spider-Man, Peter felt the breeze in his face and the pull of gravity as he swung from one small building to the next.
"Thank God it's the weekend," Spider-Man muttered as he shot another webline.
Spider-Man jumped off the web and did a clumsy somersault in the air before diving towards the ground.
…
Inside a convenience store, the owner was scrolling through his phone at the counter. However, a gun was pulled on him by a masked man, with two more armed masked men coming from the aisles.
"Money. Now," the thug said.
Shaking, the owner opened the cash register and started clumsily collecting the cash. The door was heard opening, and a web yanked the thug over as Spider-Man kicked him down. Spider-Man shot a web at one of the other thug's faces, and the third thug aimed his shotgun at Spider-Man. Spider-Man shot a web at the shotgun and yanked it upwards, causing a shot to fire into the ceiling. Chunks of debris from the ceiling cracked and fell, and one piece smacked the shotgun-wielding thug right on the head, knocking him down.
Spider-Man winced. "Oops."
The thug with a webbed-up face frantically clawed at the sticky substance, stumbling backward, but Spider-Man lunged forward and delivered a spinning kick to his chest, sending him crashing into a snack display. The last thug groggily tried to get up, but Spider-Man webbed his hands to the floor. Spider-Man walked over to the thug that got hit by debris, and heard him groaning.
"Okay, good. You're not dead," Spider-Man sighed.
"I'm calling the cops," the shaken store owner said as he grabbed his phone and started dialing. "Thanks a ton, Spider-Man."
"Of course. And good idea. Tell 'em I say hi," Spider-Man responded.
A young woman near the drink coolers cautiously stepped forward, holding up her phone. "Uh, hey, Spider-Man? Might be bad timing, but can I get a selfie?"
Spider-Man grinned under his mask. "Yeah, of course."
The woman smiled as she took a selfie of herself and Spider-Man.
…
In her apartment, Maxine was finishing up some burritos for herself and Jerry. She finished stuffing and cutting them, and put them on plates. Maxine brought one over to Jerry, who was playing online blackjack in his wheelchair.
"Thanks, Max," Jerry said.
"Of course, sweetie," Maxine replied, sitting on the couch and switching channels on the tv.
"This is amazing," Jerry complimented. "What's in this?"
"White rice, steak, pico de gallo, lettuce, sour cream, medium salsa, guac," Maxine replied.
"Either way, it's fire. What'd you season the steak with?"
"Good ol' salt, pepper, and garlic."
"Can't go wrong with that."
Maxine started eating her burrito, only for her phone to start vibrating. She checked and saw it was Norman Osborn.
"Great," Maxine groaned.
"What's up?" Jerry asked.
"It's the boss. One sec."
Maxine got up and walked into the bedroom, taking the call. "Mr. Osborn?"
"Maxine," Norman Osborn's voice said over the phone. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."
"No, not at all," Maxine forced herself to say. "Is everything okay?"
"I want to talk to you about your proposal. I've reviewed your designs. Your vision. After further thinking about it, Oscorp would like to offer some resources for you to realize this."
"W-what? You're serious? What?!" Maxine exclaimed.
"Your ears aren't failing you. I'm aware this all sounds too good to be true. But your proposal could not only greatly benefit Oscorp and all of us, but the public as well. Contrary to what some people want to say, I'm not just spending all the funds on myself," Norman stated over the phone.
"Nah, I wasn't questioning it. Still, I don't know what to say, Mr. Osborn. Thank you so much."
"We can talk more in depth in person. I have another call to get to, but enjoy the rest of your night."
"Thanks, Mr. Osborn. You too."
The call ended, and Maxine walked back over to Jerry with a smile on her face.
"Looks like it was good news. From Norman Osborn though?" Jerry questioned.
"You're literally not gonna believe this, honey. But Norman accepted my proposal!" Maxine excitedly revealed.
Jerry's eyes widened. "You're serious. What?"
"Yep. Guy's a sleazebag, but he even pointed out how much it'd be helping both the company and really everyone in the public."
"He's not wrong, but… I don't know. Can we fully trust him?"
"I mean, let's just focus on the positives right now, hon. Norman said he wanted to talk it over more in person, so I'll see how that goes," Maxine said.
"Yeah. For sure. Just keep your guard up," Jerry advised.
"Trust me, not gonna be a problem."
…
In Brooklyn, a warehouse filled with dozens of Yakuza gangsters buzzed with low music and victory drinks. They were all dividing up what remained of Fisk's abandoned operations. Laughing and arguing.
"Hey! Everyone! Eyes on me!" the leader demanded.
Everyone stopped talking and looked at the leader. One of the gangsters turned the music off. Taking his glass of red wine, the leader stood on top of a small crate.
"I'm not going to dress this up. We've made enemies. Cost of building something that really matters. Some of you were born into this. Or you chose it. Doesn't matter. What matters is, you bleed for this flag. You put in work when no one's watching. Not blood, not tradition. Loyalty. Always going to be someone out there that thinks they can erase us. Let them come. Because we don't run. We don't scatter. We burn. Don't we?!" the leader declared.
"YES!" the room exclaimed in union.
"Watch each other's backs. Fire at whoever you have to. And whatever comes through that door… remind them who we are. We'll slash through anyone. Murder whoever's family we need to," the leader continued. "The city will be under our grasp, and we will do anything to—"
The leader's glass shattered in front of him, with the red wine spilling out. However, the boss looked down to see blood leaking out of his chest. Most of the gangsters started pulling out their weapons while others started screaming. The leader fell to the ground as his hand fumbled for his gun in his jacket.
"Sh-show no fear!" the leader tried to yell. "Sh—"
At that point, everything went pitch black. Gunshots started being fired blindly in every direction. Muzzle flashes lit the warehouse in frantic bursts. Screams tore through the dark as six gangsters found themselves getting yanked upward into the rafters, their guns clattering to the floor. Not even twenty seconds later, the power kicked back on. Standing in the middle of the room was the Beetle.
"Hi," the Beetle said.
Everyone opened fire, and the bullets sparked and skittered off Beetle's chest. As the Bettie didn't flinch, the bodies of the six gangsters fell down, hitting some of the other gangsters. Beetle then flew through the gangs, sending some of them flying. Beetle tore through a few members as he flew fifteen feet up. Beetle aimed his wrists, and mini missile turrets extended as he fired mini missiles at the Yakuza, triggering a few explosions.
"Don't worry about the burning," the Beetle muttered as he fired the missiles.
The Beetle hovered above the chaos, wings humming as fire spread across the warehouse floor. Screams echoed below as the Beetle blew a hole into the ceiling, flying out. As the Beetle flew away, the warehouse exploded in a thunderous blast, fire tearing through steel and concrete.
…
Raindrops fell down a narrow, cold alley in Hell's Kitchen. Three masked men ran hard, each gripping a velvet pouch stuffed with stolen jewels.
"Hurry up!" one of the men exclaimed.
"We're almost there, just shut the hell up!" another man responded.
"Guys. My back is killing me," the third man complained. "Can we just—"
The third man was yanked backward into the shadows, a gloved hand muffling his scream. Ten seconds later, his unconscious body dropped into a puddle, his bag landing beside him. The other two men skidded to a stop, spinning around.
"What the hell—" the first man started.
A red blur slashed through the rain, a crack echoing as a fist shattered his jaw. He was kicked in the abdomen, collapsing as his jewels scattered across the alley floor. Before the second man could react, the blur vanished again.
"Hey! Come and get it, spider freak!" the second man yelled, pulling out a gun with his shaking hands.
A baton whipped out of the darkness, ricocheted off the wall, and knocked the gun away from his grip. The second man barely had time to react before two quick punches to his gut folded him, and a final strike to the face knocked him out cold. A hand then retrieved the baton from the wet concrete.
"Next time, watch your blind spot," a voice said.
Police sirens wailed in the distance, growing close. A cruiser arrived, and two cops came out and ran into the alley. There was no one there other than the three thugs.
"NYPD, you're under arrest!"
Crouched on a fire escape above, a figure lingered in the shadows. His horns barely visible in the dim light, the figure ran off and escaped in the darkness.
…
Well, talk about a HIATUS. I'm so sorry, ya'll. Procrastination and real life responsibilities came up, and a decent amount has happened since I last published. Ironically enough, I was in New York for Christmas Eve to Christmas, so the Year 1 finale was happening simultaneously with that haha. But seriously, I'm so sorry for the delay. It won't be this bad again going forward.
Also, I need to give a serious announcement that I know will disappoint a lot of people, but I am NOT currently looking to hire someone to draw out my story as a web comic or graphic art. The amount of responses and offers I've gotten is flattering, I seriously mean that. But I'm not at a place in life where I can pay for that right now, and I honestly think it's best to focus on just writing out my story as planned right now.
Life's overall going mostly well. I love my job as a mental health therapist, still spend time with family and friends, and practice self-care and hobbies, which include watching shit. This year has given us some pretty great content. Overall, thank you all for continuing to read and support the story. Favs, follows, and reviews are always appreciated! And I PROMISE Chapter 15 will be out in the next two weeks. I'll definitely up the pace with updating this story. You're all in for some hella exciting stuff!
Dragon64 - Glad to see you're hyped by the Knull reveal. And yes, his story will be quite something when we get there!
Guest - Thank you for the advice, appreciate it, seriously! I definitely became a bit too perfectionist with the story at different points, cancelling and rewriting it more than once! But I definitely like this version of my stories the most, and I'm excited for the overarching narrative and how you guys will feel!
SkipShowers - Hey, thank you so much for the nice words and feedback! You perfectly summed up what I was trying to capture with teenage angst and immaturity, as well as how Peter handles his grief. Glad to see you invested in the stories with Liz and Gwen, it'll keep evolving! And Knull will be quite something.
HaywireEagle - Appreciate you being honest! My stuff's definitely not gonna be for everyone, and there can always be room to improve in certain aspects!
Phantom-Riot - Hey! I appreciate the offer a lot, as well as your interest in the story! Unfortunately, I'm sure you've seen by now that I'm not taking any offers for drawing out my story. Thank you though for the overall support!
Mitsuki Katagiri - Same deal, unfortunately. Not looking to adapt the story or hire someone. But thank you for reading and supporting the story!
-redbirds12