Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1

CURTAIN DRAWN

Main Cast:

Peter Parker

Gwen Stacy

Felicia Hardy

Kate Bishop

Norman Osborn stalked a dimly lit hallway, leading down to the most secured and recently refitted lab he managed to persuade the board about, regarding Curtis Connors’s ambition of pioneering Stem-cells regeneration.

He walked through 4 separate airlocks and sanitizers to ensure the environment that would best benefit what seems to be the future of Oscorp and humanity; at least that’s what he’d deliberately pitched to the shareholders.

The number of resources and analytic data flooding in from various facilities all across Manhattan had shoehorned the previously stunted project to a new frontier of discussing the application to human volunteers.

The ethics committee is persisting on being a stopper from advancement like usual, but Norman had never encountered anyone who would scoff at some amount of…persuasive investment.

He decided to keep certain aspects from Curtis Connors, out of precaution against the geneticist’s moral code that might compromise things unnecessarily; just like Otto Octavius did years ago with project CHMRA. He won’t have that again for this promising venture to evolve humanity beyond the limit set by nature; simply refused to comply as he always does with every obstacle.

For now, Curtis Connors needs only to be aware that he had outsourced the project as a whole from many uprising and hopeful scientists who show potential. Peter Parker would be included in the list as well if little birds here and there had not informed him about the boy’s inevitable assimilation to Reed Richards’s circus of dreamers. Oscorp and RAC both can’t afford a scandal at this time, simply incomprehensible economically and publicly.

His eyes fall upon a disheveled scientist, hunching over a research terminal and rifling through a pile of hard copy reports on the side desk like a maniac looking for an answer to a rhetorical question asked out in passing.

The man could use a shower or two, judging solely from the odor.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you this passionate since that internment meeting at Harvard years ago, Connors.” Norman greeted him casually, eyes scanning the vast chamber that had been refitted and renovated into a sci-fi movie set of some sort.

“The one where you outright rejected me but I got in because Dr. Octavius insisted upon?” Connors snorted from his position, tone sharper and harsher than it usually did, evidently in shamble and exhaustion but never thought to allow a moment of respite even for oneself.

“Otto always has keen eyes on the future more than me, I am more of a businessman.” Norman declared, looking over some genetic enhancer vials displayed inside reinforced polycarbonate shelves.

“Selling yourself short is some form of strategy? You are some kind of a scientist yourself, albeit too involved in politics and economics.” Connors yapped again, this time brought out a grunt from his boss.

“Oscorp have today because of me. If left to own devices, you scientists would sink it in a sea of debts since the first month.” Norman offered with a cackle, signifying his playful intention “But enough about my necessary evils; how’s the project going these past months? I heard your wife expressed concerns about your health and your absences from your family.” Norman approached the scientist and firmly squeezed the tense shoulder “Take it from an old man who lost a chance with his own, Connors, take a break and be there when you still can.”

“There will be time for that, later.” Connors simply replied with half-assed intention, focusing on the simulation of cellular assimilation and merging on the screen.

“Why not requisite help from that girl? Gwen Stacy? I heard your colleagues and assistants have nothing but praises and jealousies directed towards the young thing.” Norman started, knowing already what type of answer he would get from the stubborn geneticist, yet, he pressed on a bit “Besides, it’s not like this is some kind of secret black site development center you can’t share with your assistant.”

“I’ve redirected my other projects to her for weeks now, Mister Osborn, it’s a miracle she’s still staying after the amount of daily work she has to do.” Curtis Connors clarified.

Norman hums in consideration; a promising young mind is a must in his vision of the future, and one that has some persuasion value to the one he wants like the Parker boy should prove invaluable in itself in the long run.

“Do you recommend we should hire her as a full-timer once her internship is over?” Osborn directed the question at the other man, quirking his brow.

“I won’t object to that; she’s talented and has some ambition of her own,” Curtis said with a shrug of his shoulders, eyes never averted from its honed point.

“I will keep that in mind,” Norman concluded with a hum, looking at the bigger screen above their heads. “Meanwhile; what is this?” his hand gestured towards the simulation of cells merging at a succession rate above 45%.

“Huh?” Curtis looked up from his obsessing mannerism and cast his half-close eyes towards the subject in question “That…is a simulation I ran earlier, combining the genetic enhancer into batch 15C before injection of subject 51,” Connors gestured to the shelves of transparent cages that houses a plethora of animals ranging from mice to reptiles. “I had a notion that, since we’ve never tried it on anything outside of mammals, why not try?” Connors check the graphs and circulations of information while adjusting the formula simultaneously for the next subject.

“Any significant development I should know about?” Norman asked again after studying the subject with his eyes.

“Mostly unnoticeable so far; some alterations in glands and minor changes in physiology. DNA still intact, no sign of degradation or mutation, yet.” Connors gives a brief version, he knows by now Norman’s interest lies in results rather than the how-tos.

“Plain English for our dear toddlers upstairs?” Norman asked with a smirk.

“Let them focus on things that they knew about already for the time being; if this little sidetrack produces anything tangible, I will let you know.” Connors concluded.

Out of their sight, a torn limb starts to rapidly reform itself from the stump.

Instead of something resembling the host’s physiology like hide with scales, it grew out to an appearance of skin and flesh.

“Come in.” Fisk’s deep tone echoed in his spacious office overlooking New York; one of those scenery he wanted to upkeep and shape.

A mob of platinum hair cascaded down both sides of her face, framing the sharp features she got from her estranged mother, according to her father’s words. Felicia is not one to overdress unnecessarily, so her go-to outfit often consists of long and form-fitting pants, a blouse, and a pair of sunglasses.

“Mister Fisk.” She greeted her employer with formal courtesy, making her way towards the side where a dark lamb skin couch was located with an envelope.

“Punctual as ever, Felicia,” Fisk replied in kind, finishing with whatever he was doing a moment prior and then making his way towards her.

“I have somewhere to be, thought I’d settle this with you as fast as I can.” Felicia offered with a soft chuckle, casually pulling out a cigarette out of her purse, and lit it to enjoy the bitter taste. If the smoke is bothering him, he does not show it.

“I’d thought you quit smoking altogether.” Fisk sits across from her, opening the envelope for her.

“For a while, but you know how it is.” Felicia shrugged with a carefree attitude, but Fisk seemed to catch a slip in her indifference.

“The alley again?” the question seemed to irritate her a bit, judging from the way her jaw tensed and the poor cigarette simply bent in the middle under her deft fingers.

No verbal confirmation was provided, only a small nod and a tight hum.

“My offers still stand, Felicia, I need you sharp and well. A session cost nothing but time and a surrender to weakness.” Fisk continued without looking at the stray cat he picked up from that alley years prior.

“I have nine lives left to spare, Mister Fisk, but thank you, nonetheless.” Felicia countered with a façade she played well over the years, just not against someone like Wilson Fisk.

“Walter would have insisted further, but alas, I’m not your father,” Fisk concluded with a sigh, Felicia only nodded along in agreement. Then the content of the envelope got spread over the glass table between them. “There’s another job coming in. Same clientele. New locations. New objectives.” Wilson Fisk starts by gesturing to some of the pictures.

“Elaborate?” Felicia inquired in her serious tone as she inspected each photograph with keen eyes.

“Chemicals. Labs 2 and 6 require some, and these are the locations our sources scouted ahead.”

“Looks simple enough,” Felicia concluded after a while, contemplating the layouts and given information provided by Fisk’s henchmen.

“Will you be needing teammates?” Fisk looked at her, but Felicia objected to the idea with a shake of her head.

“It will be quicker if I play solo. There’s no need for muscles, only transportation.” Felicia points to several areas within a layout schematic of the building.

“What about the…little pest?” Fisk gritted out with a frustrated huff, remembering the persistent efforts of Spider-Man in jeopardizing his empire since teaming with Daredevil.

“I will handle him if he happens to miraculously run into me out of nowhere,” Felicia said casually, no worries on her face as she recalled the person she had never met again after that little dance they had.

“Don’t underestimate the little shit, Felicia, I know firsthand what he is capable of,” Fisk warned her.

“His conviction about the nature of things and humans gives me an advantage. He won’t survive a day in our world, but that’s why I will be fine.”

“Good, at least I won’t have to apologize to Walter’s grave,” Fisk said with a chuckle.

“Easy there!” Peter yelped out as he was quick to support Missus Holt after she had lost her footing walking down the stairs of her own house.

Sundays are when Peter had to take his second part-time job as an elderly caretaker, the pay is lacking but he enjoys spending time helping in any way he can.

“Oh! You are fast, Peter.” The old woman thanked him with a pat on his shoulder, letting him lead her down the remaining steps until they were in the living area, where Peter had already set out a lunch and some pleasure readings for her.

“Come on, Heather, I can’t possibly hope to compete with Miss Champion here!” he gestured towards an old picture of Heather Holt herself with a medal in hand.

“Oh, you!” the old woman chuckles along with his, sitting down at her usual spot and taking in the meal in front of her with a curious glint in her cloudy eyes. She looked over in Peter’s direction “You learned how to cook?”

Peter scratches the back of his head with a sheepish grin, a look of pride and something tender evident on his face.

“Practicing, more like.” He admitted.

“At least it should be better than that dumpling you got me.” She teased him a bit and took a bite, humming lightly from the taste and textures she got. “An improvement, for sure.” She concluded with a smile and ruffled his curly brown hair a bit.

“Thanks! Gwen insisted on me doing dinners now anyways, might as well get good at it, you know?” Peter cheered with a heartfelt grin and twinkles in his eyes at the mention of the name.

“That cute little blonde?” Heather asks as she softly tosses the remote at him, trusting their entertainment in his hands; she knows now that Peter has vintage taste, and she appreciates such conversations they have on Sundays about old music and movies from her younger years. “She seems sweet, you better wife her up, young man,” Heather said and enjoyed the jolt of her caretaker’s body at the suggestion and let out a cackle.

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaat??!!??”

“Relax, Peter.” Heather said between cackles, shielding her mouth from spilling any bits of lunch “I know things are different from my time, but you better not play her or anything, I will hit you!” she mockingly held up her fists in a boxing stance, which Peter surrendered to it immediately.

“Scout’s honor!” he exclaims.

Both enjoy the quiet afternoon with Braveheart and some small conversation regarding Edgar Allen Poe’s works.

“You sure you don’t want me to wait around for Helen with you?” Peter asks as he’s washing the dishes, conversing with his charge for today who’s doing some mild yoga in another room.

“It’s fine, honey, my niece has her copy of the key. Make sure you lock it well before you go?”

“See ya next Sunday, missus Holt! If you need any help, just call me, okay?” he yelled from the front door and turned the knob once he heard her acknowledge it. Locking the door, Peter spins on his heels to make his way toward his destination.

Gwen often visits and stays with her parents on Friday nights until Sunday, and he takes it upon himself to kind of retrieving her on such occasions, getting some free food along the way is a bonus in itself, as Helen Stacy seems to enjoy her food being eaten, who’s he to deny the lovely mother of his girlfriend?

He knew about the time she and his now-best-bud Howard had to fend for themselves after the Snap and understood the need to be with her parents from time to time. He would, if he can as well.

“Oh, quit whining!” a familiar voice reaches his ears from the pizzeria up ahead; a ponytailed brunette is chiding a golden retriever as they are making their way out of the shop with two boxes of what seems to smell like double pepperonis. “Today is my order, Lucky.” Kate Bishop jabs her finger on Lucky’s forehead with a chuckle.

As Kate was about to walk into him Peter side-stepped a little and managed to stabilize the boxes of pizza, hearing a yelp of surprise from Kate and a friendly bark from the Pizza Dog.

“You are still clumsy with or without a phone in your hand, I see.” she whipped up at his voice, beaming immediately when his face came into focus.

“Pete!” Kate exclaims with a chuckle, quickly hugging his neck as he moves the pizza outwards to prevent them from being crushed. “It’s so good to run into you here!” Kate still holding him with her arms, eyes smiling as she took in his trademark nervous face.

“It’s better me than a pole.” He offered with a chuckle, noticing the proximity they were in, he cleared his throat a little. “Good to see you, Kate.” He pats the small of her back a couple of times and starts to detach himself from her grasp.

Kate seems to notice his attempt and shoots a sheepish grin his way before releasing his neck from her hold.

“Sorry, just…old habits, huh?”

Kate stammered a little as Lucky nudged into her legs like a teasing friend, she nudged the retriever back in kind, albeit discreetly.

“Don’t worry about it.” Peter dismissed with a smile, offering the stack of pizzas to her after a heartbeat “You stay at the Compound?” she took it from him, balancing them expertly.

“Yeah, pretty much my shift. Tennessee had some projects at MIT, so he kinda asked me to cover for him as well.” Kate shrugged with a lopsided grin “Figured I should bring Lucky along; pizza bills and all.” At the mention of the delicious goodness, the retriever barks happily at both of them.

“You sure Mister Barton won’t miss his service dog?” Peter jabs with a smirk, walking alongside them as Kate’s destination seems to align in the same part as his.

“I’m so telling Clint you said that!” Kate chuckled.

The interaction stirs some memories of them in the past; Kate often offered Harley and himself to her favorite pizza places all across New York, and being as broke as he was back then (still is, to some extent) he took almost all of her offers up without hesitation.

First lead to second, and third, then sixth, until Kate frequents some of Spider-Man’s favorite shops with him in tow, and something more developed between them just months before he decided to quit.

Kate took that better than Harley she knew there was more to it underneath the apparent selfishness he might seem to harbored at the time; wanted to run away from reminders of things lost, but mostly from the restrictions accompanied by the Initiative program that would prevent him from helping where he won’t be allowed to, not without a heated argument with Maria Hill afterward and so many reprimands he would receive from Nick Fury about national relation and such.

Peter never let them bother him much, he was still out here, helping those in need and putting his neck on the block to be the Spider-Man he once promised his late aunt. Fury and Hill put him in the Initiative because he was an official Avenger and would have made a great mediator for herself and Harley to ease into things. She often spied the two brainiacs messing the lab up with new gadgets and equipment every once in a while.

She knew though, that guilt was one of the big reasons why he left.

It was not that serious, she had told him once after a chance encounter at one of the Tracksuits’ hideouts, that a fling between them was just feelings expressing themselves through closeness and teenage hormones.

Yet, as Clint always pointed out; her deception skills still need a lot of work. They worked well together, in and out of Avengers business, she lamented.

“What were you up to? Before I almost ran you over?.” Kate asked with a brow raised, curiosity playing on her face.

“Oh! I was just getting my girlfriend back from her parent’s place.” Peter answered with a soft smile, a look of adoration displayed clearly on his face at the mention.

“Oh?” Kate suppressed a hiss from making its way out of her throat; feeling a bit embarrassed about her hugging his neck earlier and that kiss on his cheek she did months ago.

“Yep.” He continues, oblivious to the hidden irritation within his former teammate “Maybe we can get some pizza together? I think you’ll like her.” Peter sent a genuine grin her way; Kate contemplated it a bit and sighed when she read no ill intent on his part and nodded.

“Sure. Still got my number?” Kate fished a phone out of her leather jacket but stashed it back when he nodded.

“Yeah. See you around, Kate!” Peter waves as he continues on his way away from her and Lucky, who happens to keep nudging her with that knowing grin.

“What’re you lookin' at?” she hissed at her dog and waited for her ride at the agreed location in front of the pizzeria. Sighing heavily at how, years later, Peter Parker still managed to stir something inside her as easily as he did back then. “This sucks.” She groaned.

Peter reached the front of Stacy’s household with a caramel lollipop in his mouth; a kid named Henry gifted it to him as a thank after he got his puppy down from a tree, and he was a bit surprised that Captain Stacy himself burst open the door with packages in his hands.

He quickly jogs over and helps Gwen’s dad unload the some from his arms.

“Evening, Peter!” George Stacy greeted him with a huff as he’s been struggling with these boxes for a minute or so now. “In the trunk, son.” He gestured with his foot at the opened lid.

“What’s the occasion, Mister Stacy? Some romantic getaway with the missus?” Peter wiggled his brows in jest and lighthearted gesture, earning a cackle from the older man.

“If that was true, son, I would have been elated.” The Captain shakes his head a little, before closing the lid securely “Just some misunderstanding delivery for the precinct; some new security equipment from Oscorp for the new crime-monitoring system they talked about on TV?”

“Oh, that.” Peter nods his head along the words.

“Some PR shit, I’m sure, but NYPD has been selected as a test subject for it.” George elaborated with a sigh, as he looked over the watch on his right wrist “I don’t know if Fred is still on shift tonight, I need to get these settled fast on Mayor’s order.” Heard the conversation up front, Gwen decided to look for her dad and see who is it that he was talking to. A smile plays on her lips as she notices Peter.

“Hey, you.” Gwen approaches him with a skip in her steps, coiling his collar firmly to drag him in for a chaste kiss. “I’m surprised you managed without a detour!” Gwen teased him on his busy schedule with a giggle.

“I can be a great boyfriend, from time to time.” He smirks with a playful glint in his eyes, stealing another light kiss on her cheek.

“Rare occasions, indeed.” Gwen retorted.

“Because most of the time, you like me naughty.” He let out a smug, Gwen only chuckled and pushed his head a little.

“Alright, alright. Kids. Spare this old man a heart attack, will ya?” George snorted out with a grin of his own, pretending to be annoyed by his daughter’s tendency to do PDAs as one of their inside jokes.

“What were you guys talking about?” Gwen changed the subject as she stood beside Peter to face her dad, leaning into him a little at the way his hand rested comfortably on the small of her back.

George gestured at the trunk of his sedan, sighing in defeat at the last-minute extra work on a weekend. “I got to get these set up before midnight, and I was wondering if Fred is still on shift.”

“The surveillance systems from earlier?”

George nods, rubbing his eyelids with exhaustion starting to form.

“Pete can help with that; he’s kind of a nerd.” Gwen jabs playfully at her boyfriend, to which he groans as a reply.

“Really?” her dad asks with some doubt, looking at the two young adults in front of him.

“Sure thing, cap’n,” Peter gave him a genuine grin with a nod of his head “If it’s alright for a civilian to do it, I mean,” Peter concluded with a chuckle.

Peter, Gwen, and George Stacy gathered the boxes into the common area, there were a few numbers of officers and some detectives still working there, but some gave a sympathetic smile at the supposed-to-be-on-weekend Captain. Yuriko Watanabe, ever the workaholic, greeted the trio once before refocusing her attention on a pile of reports on her desk.

“Had she ever taken a break?” Gwen mused as she handed the last package to Peter’s waiting hands, directing the question to her dad with a frown.

“I’m on the verge of ordering her to take some,” her dad sighed in defeat, in concern for one of his trustworthy policemen who he is certain won’t ever waver by Wilson Fisk’s or Maggia’s retirement funds “but you’ve known her as long as I am; there’s no convincing Yuri to take care of herself.” He ended with a shake of his head.

“Then I will have to distract her from work, somehow.” Gwen hums in deep thought.

“You two share one thing.” Peter mused with a grin at her side, feeling numb when she elbowed his stomach at the insinuation.

“Trust me when I say this; don’t get her drunk.” Gwen let out a panic expression, one which Peter snorted over the dramatic flair.

“Alright, Fred said he can be here in 20, meanwhile you can start by the main server in the basement.” George Stacy announced after a brief phone call he had with precinct 19^th residence IT staff.

“Should we have someone watching us, in case Peter here decides to go Snowden on you guys?” Gwen asked in a teasing tone while she helped Peter unpack the necessary items for the task at hand, reading the labels and specifications attentively for each.

“I’ll leave him in your hands,” George cackles a bit before signaling for some of the off-duty officers to follow him with the boxes instructed to be installed onto the antenna on the roof, as Fred said. “We are gonna prep things up on the roof, call me if you need something, okay?”

Gwen nods with a smile as Peter shoots a grin, and then she lets her boyfriend down the stairway to the underground server room. Both reach the quite organized workspace of Fred and his team and start laying the unpacked items on the most spacious surface they can find.

“You ever rigged a PC before?” Peter asked Gwen while he reached into a crevice to connect the new addition of equipment to the existing ones, quirking his brows quizzically.

“If by ‘rigged’ you meant have I ever disassembled one? Yep, but we ended up selling it for parts because I can’t get it to work again after that.” Gwen shrugged with an easy grin on her face.

“Remind me to not let you play with Edi again?” Peter jabs with a smirk, to which she responds by throwing a piece of foam that lands squarely on his forehead.

“What do we do next?” Gwen asks after Peter announced that they got all the equipment prepped and installed in their respective location, connected all the ports, and waited for the system to reboot and adjust to the new.

“Would you be mad if I have Edi install a backdoor into the system?” Peter mused with the cutest puppy eyes he had ever managed, Gwen chuckled nervously at the suggestion.

“I don’t know, babe, what if Fred figured it out?” Gwen weighs against his proposal, she knows that there is a possibility even if the hacking will mostly be done by Edith; her new gossiping girlfriend after a couple of months ago when Peter managed to give the AI some restricted form of sentient thought process.

The aspect of a self-aware AI in itself creeps her out; remembering the short span of Ultron’s cyber-terrorism over a decade ago. Peter’s insistence and reassurance about it brought some semblance of relief, but she will keep vigilant for the time being.

“Edi is discreet, even Friday can’t detect her anymore, and Friday was supposed to keep the Compound safe.” He grinned mischievously; it’s come and go, but he got his moment to show a prideful side garnered from his accomplishments. She likes that look on him, though, but sometimes he can be so stubborn.

“I don’t know if I should be thrilled or terrified of that notion, dude,” Gwen said with a confused look on her face.

“Don’t worry about it; I’ll have Kate open an access for me to update some firmware for Friday later.” He announced, puffing up his chest as he leaned in to plant a chaste kiss on her tight lips.

“Kate?” the name caught her attention; another one of first-name among a few.

“Hawkeye? She took a shift at the Compound for the next two months; I want her to be a contact inside if something happens with Manhattan, or with me.” He offered her a sad smile.

“You have a very grim outlook upon the world, man.” Gwen retorted with a reassuring smile of her own, caressing the side of his face. “I guess dying once does change people, huh?” her question was half-teasing; she saw that kind of struggle on her dad and many close friends after the Avengers brought everyone back.

He kissed the palm of her hands with tender smiles, relishing the soft cushion her skin made for his head. He cups her hands with his and leads her to the recently loaded up main monitor of the whole system, now displaying a miniature version of the Oscorp logo in its usual branding location, he scoffs at the clear attempt of PR the corporation put in the guise of philanthropism.

“Gotta love their advertisement,” he snorted with a cackle, Gwen followed with a snicker and hit his shoulder with a firm slap.

“Hey, I still work there, you know?”

“Alright, alright. I will refrain from slandering them, for now.” He winked and focused his attention back on the screen. “Edi, would you mind knocking on the door?” he ordered his assistant as he placed his smartphone on the desk; the new Starkphone he got from saving his paychecks from RAC since the internship started. The new chipsets and hardware allowed Edith to be more versatile than before, and now he doesn’t even need to wire her in anymore as long as there are wireless signals.

“Hello?” Edith chirped as if talking to someone, and then “Oh, no one’s home,” and she played an audio clip of opening door; specifically the one from OG Resident Evil 1.

“Set up a network, prime it for auto connection to the NYPD cloud system, I need my Spider-Surveillance back.” He announced with such a goofy grin that Gwen couldn’t help but chuckle at the habit of bad-naming he seemed to pride himself on.

“What’s next? Spider-Mobile?” Gwen scoffed out, resting her chin on his shoulder and whispering to his ear.

“Don’t give me ideas, woman.” Peter cackles, feeling the tickles from her silky hair brushing his exposed skin.

“I only give good ones, and might even have to take over the naming if you are gonna keep them lame like that.” Gwen nuzzles his neck with a giddy smile; it has been about two nights away spending time with her family, and she misses his unnatural warmth.

“My fans dig it!” he protests, melting into her touches.

“Your Spidey Squad?” She teased about the recent public team of teens that took some inspiration from Spider-Man’s actions and started doing volunteer work and public services while brandishing replicas of Peter’s old design of his mask that are still on the market. He cried happy tears that night when they found out on social media about the crew’s commendable deeds.

“Yep.” He replied with a happy grin at the mention of those kids.

“I hope they don’t do anything too dangerous, though,” Gwen mumbled into his skin, knowing the effect that would have on him if something bad happened.

“Me too,” he mused.

Edith beeps a signal, indicating she has done her part and now awaiting Peter to finish his.

“Okay, we are set.” Peter triumphantly said with a satisfying grin, disconnected Edith, and checked the new row of notifications that were starting to flood in, directly from the precinct’s system.

“I hope this won’t bite our asses in the future.” Gwen lamented with a pout; she had just accomplices her vigilante boyfriend in hacking into the police’s crime alert system.

“Have some faith in our little girl, babe.” He pouted as he showed her the mimicking expression on Edith’s CG face.

“It feels weird as hell hearing that.” Gwen laughs and gathers all the cardboard and plastic wraps off the table, gesturing for him to retreat towards the main area.

“Everything’s alright down there?” George asked after he noticed two figures of his daughter and Peter Parker ascending towards the last step.

“All set and ready to operate! Sir!” Peter salutes and earns some groans from the policemen.

“Good, now if we can just…” George had a device in his hand, looking around as if expecting to see what he was looking for “Where’s the ladder?”

“Oh! Morgan and Kelly took it on patrol, captain, something about…rooftop grandma?” Officer Torres explained with a grin.

“Great. Now we have to wait on them.” George sighed in frustration; he had planned to quickly wrap this up so he could go back to spend some alone time with his wife, seeing that Howard must have already gone back to his dorm by now.

Peter walked up to them casually took the device from the captain with a smile, and started climbing the antenna pole with dexterity. He set it in place and fastened it with screws, then connected the data cable that lead to the control unit at the base.

Peter jumped down into a crouch; still minding the aspect of not showing off too much acrobatics to them.

“Huh, thanks, Peter,” George said with a tight smile, a flash of recognition darted across his observant irises.

“No probs, cap’n! I used to do rock climbing.” He offered with a confident grin and conviction.

“This is more complicated than my laptop at home.” Officer Johnston moaned from his kneeling position, inspecting the circuitries and electronics inside the box.

“Let me—” Peter starts but a hand on his shoulder stops him, he looks sideway and sees a very curious look adorning Captain Stacy’s face, for a brief moment, before his face softened.

“Fred will be here, thanks for your help. Now, get my girl back safe, okay?” George demanded of him with a hard gaze, Peter felt like there was something underneath that had been quickly swept under a rug for the time being, but then dismissed it by nodding his head as an acknowledgment.

“Hug mom for me?” Gwen said after giving her dad a tight embrace.

“Of course, Wendy,” George cackles at the reaction to her childhood nickname elicits from his daughter; he’s still doing that from time to time, just to prod his daughter. Gwen sticks her tongue out at him while hugging Peter’s arm as they make their way to the stairs.

George swears that he felt a sense he only ever had whenever the Wall Crawler made an appearance behind the police line just to offer help and quip with the stressing cops when he watched Peter climb up the metal frame and almost backflip off of it but decided against it in the end.

He just hoped that, if it was what he thought it was, that boy wouldn’t be putting Gwen in danger.

“Are you kidding me?” Peter exclaims in confusion when Gwen spreads all the pending analytic data of her work that must be translated into reports before a conference due tomorrow at 10.

“Not even a bit, dude,” Gwen shoots him a tired grin “Would you mind getting me some coffee? I think we’ll need it.” Gwen mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him as he smiled softly with a shaking of his head before he redirected himself towards her kitchen.

“So, doc Connors just dump his load on you like that?” he asked from his position while busying himself with her kettle.

“Phrasing!” she chirped back, gaining a snort from him “But, yeah, he said he wanted to focus on this important project, so he asked me to share the other projects with him. I figured it would look good on my portfolio, so I took it.” Gwen declared.

“You’re gonna wear yourself out before turning 30.” He joked as he was back with a big cup of lukewarm coffee, just the way she likes. Sitting down on the floor opposite her.

“Says the man who slept like an hour a night.” Gwen retorted with a pout.

“Hey, I’m adopting Bruce Wayne’s methods!” he defended himself. Gwen can’t help but chuckle at that.

“Batman’s a comic character, dude!” Gwen snorted, picking up one of many collected documents off the ground, and started skimming through it.

“I will have you know that Spider-Man learned many things from him.” He jutted his chin upwards with his lips pursed.

“Sure, nerd.” She jabs with a giggle.

“Nerded by another nerd. Unbelievable."

“We are a bunch of nerds, so what?” Gwen shrugged.

"Correction; I am just a nerd, you are a hot nerd,” Peter states.

“Flattery only gets you so far, mister.” She cackles.

“We’ve been roomies for months, now. I’d say it did me pretty good, so far.” He nods to himself with a smug on his face. Gwen snorts and throws the finished document at him, which his Spider-Sense triggered.

“Oh, please! I only keep you around because I want to use your body, duh!” Gwen offered with a ridicule expression on her face, but her teasing tone betrayed the true intention and Peter faked a gasp immediately.

“You are a terrible person! Using me like a piece of meat! How dare you!?” If she hadn’t known him for this long, she would have thought he was those acting students rather than a brilliant but slightly sociopathic and somewhat handsome scientist she’d fallen for.

“Sorry for being honest, cutie, but it is what it is.” She shrugged her shoulders playfully at him.

“Alright,” he chuckled after a while of holding it in, and gesturing for the next collection of research papers in front of them “let go through these quick, I want to be used now.” He leered with a charming smirk, which heated her core.

After having Edith run through the remaining soft files, he and Gwen took a shower together, remembering each other’s little details again after their times apart.

His hands and touches are still tender but aggressive at the same time, exploring each nook and cranny with subconscious precisions of where she best appreciates them.

She encouraged him to be more forceful after their first month living together at her apartment and even did some calculations with him on how much pressure he could exert based on some of his feats of strength shown throughout the years of his Spider-Manning.

His tender and vanilla natures are always welcomed, but Gwen has her kinks and needs as well and she feels loved that he is willing to comply with them alongside her.

So far? She very much enjoys this wilder side of his.

“Careful!” she giggled out between ragged breathing as he presses her up against the shower room wall, holstering her body by his hands on her ass as he dictates the pace of her bouncing on him.

“I’ll go buy some plasters if it cracks,” she smiled against his drooling mouth as he huffed the dismissal out as grunts and moans exchanged between their steamy bodies.

“That will come with additional fees,” she cranes her neck up as her body is being controlled by his superior strength, offering her neck for his hungry kisses to claim them.

“And maybe some medical bills,” he laughs into her skin, the vibration of his voice sends shivers down her spine while she mewls into his embrace and constant thrusts.

“Someone’s being kinky~~” she sang with short breaths and her nails started to prick the skin of his upper back, which seemed to encourage Peter even more.

He kissed her sweet lips again, and again while suppressing her moans from escaping as he quickened their pace.

“I miss you, Gwen.” He cried out as his throbbing junior being choked down by the constricting walls enclosing him as she rode off her orgasm, still clinging to him by his neck and biting on his lower lip to lessen some of the overwhelming sensation coursing through her naked and soaked body right now.

Peter caresses her cheeks tenderly, easing her off the height by rolling her hips into his, grinding their pelvises together as a groan escapes her throat.

“Fucking misses you too, Pete.” Gwen slurred out with a dizzy grin and dived in to stab her tongue against his, slowly stimulating themselves with him as a support.

He grunts as his swollen member throbs inside her still-sensitive folds, he draws out a long stroke before embedding himself into her again, and again, and again, and then he fills up the condom and lets the warmth spread to her through the thin layer of protection between them.

“Hungry?” he asked between peppering kisses across her flush torso, playing with her perky breasts with sensational touches especially customized to her preferences after many nights together.

Gwen hums positively while her fingers rake through his freshly cut brunette curls, massaging and making patterns into his scalp.

“How about we go to F.E.A.S.T.? Today’s a bonfire day, isn’t it?” Gwen offered after Peter ceased his foreplay and began to take a comfortable position on top of her. Their bed cushions their weights as the messy sheets tell a story of recent passion.

“You wanna spend time with the kids?” Peter asked from his position and enjoyed the tenderness she offered to his scalp.

“Yeah.” She smiles fondly at how he seems to be at ease using her as his pillow.

“Aww, mama Gwen misses her little ducklings?” he jests and adjusts himself to rest his chin on the valley between her breasts, smiling that stupid grin up at her.

“Shut it!” She squeals at him.

Both reached the vicinity of the shelter about half an hour later, seeing many occupants and staff members busy collecting dried wooden planks from a demolition site nearby into a big bonfire in the common area outside of the building. Some orphan kids and residents’ children run around in giggles while the grown-ups are chatting among themselves with a relaxing air emanating from the scene.

Martin Li, the founder of the shelter, had dedicated at least once a month to hosting such an event, to let his staff members enjoy themselves and bonding with their charges. The socialist and philanthropist himself spotted the newcomers immediately and approached them with a bright smile on his face.

“Gwen and Peter!” Martin greeted them with handshakes, never losing the warm smile on his face “Will you be joining us for the night? We had some of the locals bringing food and drinks along with our regulars; some of the Harlem communions are here too,” Martin looked back at the scenery with a sigh of contentment “Things are turning up for us this year, mister Daniel Rand also sending some supplies! I’m a happy man!” Martin exclaims loudly to both; the Asian man’s enthusiasm is contagious as always.

“That’s great, Mister Li!” Gwen beamed, still hooking her arm with Peter’s, as she smiled brightly at her former warden during the time she had taken shelter here with her little brother. “We just wanna hang around a bit,” Gwen concluded for them, but Peter let out a chuckle and a silly grin.

“She misses her kids,” he winked at Mister Li and the two men laughed alongside one another at how red Gwen’s cheeks were.

“Well, welcome! Enjoy the night!” Martin gestured for them as he excused himself to the sideline, walking towards someone standing under a lamppost. Peter felt something unease about the stranger’s presence but dropped it when he felt little hands grabbing his free fingers. Looking down, he saw the sandy mob of Jinny along her trademark grin missing a tooth as always, and grins back at the little girl.

“Hey Jinny! You havin' fun tonight?” Peter cooed at her; despite how much he teased about her missing the kids, Gwen enjoyed the sweetness Peter himself always showed whenever he was around these little demons.

“Are you gonna, tell a story like last time?” Jinny asked between her missing teeth, which rendered her little voice even cuter.

“Of course! I even brought Gwen with me!” he gestures for the little creature towards the blonde at his side, Jinny’s grin widens at the sight.

“Okay, okay! Up you go!” Gwen giggled as Jinny spread her arms waiting for the lift. The blonde lowered herself and picked the little Latina up under the armpits, securing the giggling little thing against her chest for support and making their way inside the vicinity of the shelter. Her free hand is linked with Peter’s.

From an outsider’s perspective, it almost looks like a façade of a happy little family.

Peter always comes up with some kind of physical storytelling for the kids, often about some memorable and embarrassing moments of their favorite Arachnid-theme hero, in vivid details and some cool acrobatic tricks.

She sat there, little Jinny tucked under her chin as the little girl produced laughs and giggles at all the silly things Peter entertained their group with.

F.E.A.S.T. hosts a few kids, both with their parent/parents within the shelter’s protection or orphans for various reasons. Gwen always had a soft spot for them whenever she would volunteer the daily work after her parents returned and her life was somewhat steady.

May Parker was one of the people who made her appreciate the notion of helping others whenever you can; seeing the wonderful woman’s nephew in front of her right now? She understands why he turned out the way he is, masked and no mask.

Peter, being raised almost entirely by his aunt, grew up to be a very empathetic person, tempered by May’s soft influences over the years made him quit being angry and bitter over time, he told her that one night as they cuddled on the couch, watching Clone Wars on his laptop.

A smile made its way up her lips, looking at the silly dork who, without a second thought, willingly put himself in harm’s way and expected nothing in return except some gratitude and snacks as payment.

A picture, a blurry one like a wet canvas, starting to form in the realm of her dreams, sketching onto itself outlines of scenery she can’t describe. One she is willing to be oblivious about for the time being and returns her attention just in time for Peter to do his famous kick-flip.

Unbeknownst to any of them, a pair of emerald eyes stare at the gathering from up high, perching in the shadow in her newly modified catsuit; she had Mason get rid of many bulky parts of the armor, even profiting off the removed parts, and customized it more into her liking. The claws are still there, obviously, but she ditched the helm as it messed up her now longer platinum hair tied into a ponytail behind her head.

The white furs decorating her arms, legs, and collar gives off a stark contrast to the non-reflective materials of the rest.

Her eyes study the flipping figure through the visor, adjusting distance and resolution automatically to her eyes, and curiously noting details about the forgotten man she happened to remember for years.

Peter Parker gave off a normal vibe, as one can be with that unintentional confidence smirk, powerful muscles that can punch through concrete and bend metal, and the face of a high school kid who took it upon himself to balance the weight of the whole world on his shoulders.

She feels a bit light as those eyes look up for a few seconds, and she sees some lingering sadness in them. Not as much as the day his existence was erased, but they are still haunting.

Her ears picked out a struggle from nearby, averting her sight from the hero, Felicia made her way towards the source.

Greeted by a blood-boiling scene of two muggers trying to do something with a scared woman, Felicia throws all caution away as she quickly shoots a hook line from her gauntlet, penetrating the left one’s shoulder before activating its winch to reel her lighter frame into the mugger’s bulkier one, rearing a flying knee aim at the back of his head. Her armored knee collided with a loud crack. She did not give such mercy as the Spider and quickly shot another hook from her other gauntlet at the shocked mugger, the hook pierced through his throat, and Felicia pulled forcefully until his chin collided with her upward-thrust palm, cracking his jaw as a result.

The woman whimpers in fear at the bloody scene; she is grateful for the safe, but quite scared of how brutal her savior seems to be.

Felicia kept her frame mostly in the dark, on the dim glow of her visor lens managed to announce itself as she examined the frightened woman. Satisfied with the condition the woman is in, she unlatched the hooks and aimed high, hoisting herself upwards gracefully.

A pair of dull red eyes followed her movement, Daredevil was about a second away from jumping down himself but opted to observe the new player in town.

He had agreed with Spider-Man to take up some of his patrols as the younger vigilante might need some private time to relax and rest, as the Spider insists on covering more grounds than his and Luke’s routines combined.

Matt jumped down quietly, checking the pulses of two injured muggers, and breathed out a sigh of relief as he found pulses from both.

By some divine intervention, both muggers survived, albeit with traumatic injuries.

“There’s a new one in town,” Matt simply announces through their communication channel; one that Spider-Man had set up for the Defenders and himself for easier information sharing.

He heard Luke Cage’s hums in contemplation, Jessica’s groan of annoyance, and Peter’s acknowledgment.

“Some new suicidal teenager on the prowl again? What is it about this damn town that seems to draw them?” Jessica whined into their communication with exaggeration and evident annoyance; this meant more work for her as she would need to investigate her identify this new clown as well.

“Pizza?” Peter offered with a chuckle, Jessica was not amused.

“What do we know about them?” Luke cut in before Jessica could retort the smartass Spider, directly to Matt as the blind lawyer was the one on scene and called them about it.

“Judging from heartbeats and scents, I’d say a young woman, around mid-20s. Very athletic and knows some self-defense.” He explained what he got from the information available for his heightened senses.

Peter lets out a curious noise at the description, which seems to garner attention from Jessica as the PI asks immediately in her no-nonsense tone.

“Have something to share with the class, bug-boy?”

“I…don’t know, yet, I will need some time to look into this before I can say anything,” Peter concluded for them; Jessica hissed out an irritated sound while the other two just acknowledged his contribution.

“Wanna team up, then? Tomorrow at 7 PM at the site? Maybe you can do your…nerd things while I ask some locals about it.” Jessica offered with a defeated sigh; she got too little sleep to be dealing with that little chit, but it seemed like she had to.

“Sure,” Peter agreed simply.

Felicia reached her penthouse and flopped onto the carpet on her living area floor, groaning from the sore of abrupt traversals. Looking at the king-sized bed with fluffy pillows, her eyes fell upon the thing that stood out the most.

A cut out of a newspaper about Spider-Man, from 2024; the day after the Liberty Island incident. She had kept it in curiosity.

The photo is odd because half of the candid that was supposed to be the exposed identity was burnt off by some kind of energy, leaving only half of Parker’s iconic mask.

Felicia drags herself off the floor and into her shower, rinsing off sweats and fatigue, and gets into her bed. Her hands lightly hover over the framed paper, and bring it off its place to hold it above her face, studying the picture and trying to place Peter Parker’s face where it should be; she still remembers the baffled look he had when she called out his name, convinced for years that no one remember him.

She bit her lower lip in deep thought, contemplating how someone could be so…Spider-Man, as to erase his existence just to save others. What kind of pain a man like that could be harboring under those smiles and laughs?

She chides herself for thinking too much about him. And replace the frame into its place before lying on her side, trying to sleep despite the residue of adrenaline from her earlier exploit.

Wilson Fisk has no qualms about how she uses her free time; whether to nick some jewelry, indulging her needs of excitement provided by death-defying gymnastics across the night, or beating up some wannabe criminals.

He had one rule; do not compromise his work and always deliver a promise to him, other than those conditions, she is as free as a house cat.

Mused to herself at her feline pun, she dozed off after a while.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

THE BENEFACTORS

“Hey,” Gwen speaks through the earpieces she got on, hands busied with various tubes in front of her and eyes darting between monitors. She had got a pile of works on her since midday, after a somewhat successful presentation that Curt Connors fully expected her to lead in his stead; still doing his important project, he reasoned when she freaked out about having to solo the board by herself.

“Are you still at Oscorp?” Peter’s voice came through with a curious tone. She glances up at the digital clock at the other end of the lab and reads the time at 7:20.

She groaned with exhaustion creeping in; she had completely forgotten that she had been rummaging through these documents since afternoon. A few of her seniors who are still hanging around sending thumb-ups her way as a form of encouragement, Lily and Cindy even partitioned some of them to help in exchange for credits.

Gwen massages the bridge of her nose before answering him “Yeah, I got so many samples left to test and analyze, and I can’t take them home without stealing equipment.” At that, she heard Peter’s amused chuckle, which lightened her mood a little. “What about you? Found something yet?” she countered the courtesy, recalling the conversation and appointment he had made with Jessica Jones last night while both of them were wrapping up the last draft of her presentation.

“I’m still waiting on Grumpy,” Peter chirped with a bored expression (she could tell) on his face, pacing around back and forth “She usually nagged me about being late whenever we have a date like this.” Peter casually whined for her, and Gwen let out a snort.

“Maybe she has a second thought about being out on a date with you, dude.” She teased, eyes scanning the paragraph on her current document.

“I even bought her some flowers!” he pouted.

“Aww, how nice!” she cooed playfully, quickly jotting down notes about some miscalculations on Doctor Keogan’s part about DNA splicing. “I’m sure she’ll love it, and not gonna knock you on the noggin with it!”

“She’s a real softie on the inside, like…high-carbon steel-covered marshmallow.”

“9/10 observation; you are such a connoisseur when it comes to older women,” Gwen jabs with a smirk, satisfied with the recently completed analysis of Doctor Connors’s work.

“I know a thing or two.” He admits proudly with a chirping tone.

“Riiight.” She trailed off, rolling her eyes to herself “I could wrap all of this around 9, wanna grab some dinner?” she asked after a quick estimation.

“Sure! I’ll swing by.” He cackles and Gwen groaned back in response.

“Creepy,” Jessica snorted out after noticing Spidey’s upside-down form dangling by a single thread of his webbing, swinging sideways softly with the breeze.

“Miss Jones! I thought you’d bail on our little date!” Spider-Man greeted her with an energetic voice that contrasted with her moody attitude as of late.

“This is n—” she was about to protest, but stopped herself when the masked vigilante produced a bouquet from his back to her; it’s a normal and cheap one that you can find at any florist in town, yet the gesture in itself elicits a tiny smile out of her.

“Then how come I got this just for you?” Spider-Man must have a smirk on his covered face, she can just imagine it by the way his lens is.

“Way to go, Spidey!” some passerby cheers and quickly snaps the scene using his phone, and quicker still with posting and caption.

"Well...sorry ‘bout that?” Spider-Man sheepishly apologizes to her, scratching his masked head nervously as he is unsure how Jessica will react. He is a bit surprised to hear Jessica’s giggle and the smile on the older woman’s face as she examines the flowers attentively.

“Don’t worry about it, playboy.” Jessica winked at him, and Peter almost lost his grip.

“Cool!” he managed with an unseen lopsided grin.

“Thanks, by the way; it was so long since someone got me this.” She fist-bumps his forehead lightly with a thankful expression, her mood seems to be improved positively.

“Should we get started? I will crawl around and scan for anomalies while you talk to locals?” Spider-Man inquired at her, and Jessica hummed in agreement. He retraces his path upward and sticks himself to the wall with his fingers and toes.

“Still creepy,” Jessica commented with a more lighthearted tone at the peculiar sight of the mutated vigilante, snorting at the way the gimmicky do-gooder whips his head around to urge her to get to work with those expressive lenses.

“Edi? Bring up scanners; there should have been some residue around here that can tell us something.” Peter talked with his AI, and Edith complied within a heartbeat by bringing up UIs of various scanners embedded into the suit.

“There shouldn’t be traces of Helium of this amount around here…” he mused to himself and quickly maneuvered himself to the area that was highlighted. “Super-compressed cylinder? Who could have access to techs like this?”

“Should I catalog the data?” Edith asked.

“Yes, please.” Peter tugs the discarded item into an evidence bag he borrowed from Officer Drake.

His eyes then fall upon shallow claw marks on the cinderblocks. Adjusting the scanner, his attention trained on the marks.

“Vibranium traces,” He read the pop-up notification and groaned; there is only one suspect he can think of who would fashion a set of Vibranium claws.

“Oh, this should be fun.” Edith’s sassiness rubbed the sore spot he still harbored from his encounter with the platinum-haired thief.

“According to the testimony…” Peter trailed off and looked down straight across from where he, and by extension the Faux Panther, perched over the scenery from last night. He aims his right web-shooter at the trash bin and shoots a taut line of webbing, quickly pulling himself to the spot like a bullet. “One of them got brain trauma, the back of his head suffered blunt impact from hard object…” he thinks through the memory of the suit “…knee guard? She seemed to prefer lower-body maneuvers when we fought. Human leg muscles are also stronger than our arm, makes sense if an athletic build like hers would gravitate to them more than punches.”

Another one got a punctured wound on his neck, miraculously missed his jugular by an inch, and signs of jawbone fracture.

“Upward strike, not likely to be knuckles.” He mused, mimicking what he thought to be the move she’d done following the fall of the first mugger “Palm strike? She’s ruthless and aggressive, according to the medical reports.” The man’s ligament was torn, he wouldn’t be able to chew or speak comfortably for at least months.

“Got anything?” Jessica returns with two bottles of water in her hand, the other still clutching his bouquet.

“Maybe? I’m 85% sure who was here last night; met her once, actually, she was the one who stole those mysterious items from Oscorp months ago.” He informed the P.I.

“That white-haired chick?”

“Yeah.” He nods.

“Fisk’s little thief playing vigilante? That’s odd.”

“Maybe she just wanna help that woman?” Spider-Man offered his opinion, but Jessica prefers to keep optimism at a minimum.

“There might be a more sensible reason why she was around here, really doubt she is on patrol or something like that.” The older superhuman signals for him to follow her down the walkway, keeping the conversation alive between them.

“Are there any penthouses or businesses around here that she might have been staking out for?” Spider-Man offered a theory to her, and Jessica had to recall the details relating to his question.

“Some traders and shady businesses, but I don’t think Wilson Fisk would have any interest in them; most already work for the blocky bastard, it would be stupid if she stole from them.”

“Hmm…” he tries to link the recent appearance and details provided earlier with the mysterious stolen items, there must have been some connection, something to form a lead upon.

“Anything?” she sees Spider-Man shaking his head in defeat.

“Can you pull some strings with NYPD? There is still no public announcement or reports about the stolen items. It is very suspicious.” He pleads with her and sees Jessica contemplating it for a while as they continue their walk.

“Can’t you hack into their system or something? Hypothetically speaking, of course.” Jessica squints her eyes playfully at the suggestion, mimicking the squinting whites of his lens looking at her.

“Hypothetically speaking, in case I’ve already tried that, but nothing comes up.” He shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands at his sides, harboring a sheepish grin under his mask.

“So, unless they have a more advanced defense against your AI, then the heist has never made it into the system in the first place. Just an educated guess.” She concluded what he had been thinking.

“I’m sure you can charm your way around our lovely officers.” Spider-Man jokingly praises her; and thanks to his small considerate act from earlier, he managed to make Jessica chuckle along with the suggestion instead of annoyed groans like usual.

“Sure, I can talk with some of my reluctant buddies inside and see if there is some tea to be spilled.” She joked back and quickly fished her phone out to skim through her contact list. “I will call you and Matt if something comes up, ‘kay?”

“All right! See ya, Miss Jones!” he waved her goodbye and leaped up in the air before shooting his web line to swing away.

Jessica stays in place for a moment, enjoying the colorful collection that Spider-Man picked out for her, shaking her head with a solemn smile, she presses one number.

Deciding to do something fun, Peter kept the Spidey suit on as he swung down to Gwen’s side, as the blonde was waiting for him under the roof of a bus stop.

“Good evening, ma’am! What’s a lovely lady like yourself doing here all alone?” he leans on one hand while the other rests on his hip, posing like those classic charmers trying to talk to women, all gentlemanly-like.

“What?” Gwen, being exhausted as she is, can’t help to let out a cackle at the scene in front of her.

“Perhaps you are waiting for a lucky chap? Or would you be willing to let me walk you home and protect you from scoundrels along the way?” the cheesy lines make her roll her eyes.

“I’m tired as shit, dude, come on!” Gwen groans and throws her backpack at him, which Peter effortlessly catches midair.

“Someone’s hangry, I see.” He pouted and quickly offered the hook of his arm for her, Gwen fuming still but looping hers in it.

“I’m starting to hate Doctor Connors now.” She deadpanned.

“That bad?” he asked with concerns laced in his voice, he led Gwen into a nearby alleyway where he hid another of his spare clothes in case of emergency, and quickly dissolved the permanent webbings to gain access.

Gwen waits for him at the entrance, until he returns with a long-sleeve shirt and stretchy jeans covering his red-and-blue spandex. The couple continues with their walk.

“This day alone,” she starts with a grunt “I’ve reviewed and transcript around 50 projects, excluding another 20 my coworkers and seniors helped me with. This is ridiculous!”

“Phew! Now I feel lucky I don’t apply at Oscorp.” He offered a weak attempt to lighten her mood, which failed.

“Don’t want a brag right now, Peter!” Gwen hissed. Peter let out a nervous chuckle and tried to calm her down with his hand on her back.

“Sorry, just…try to be funny.” He shot her a sheepish grin.

Gwen dismissed it with a wave of her hand, signaling for him to keep quiet for a while.

“You don’t have to put your han—” Gwen stopped with a groan at Peter across from her on the other side of the table. “Yes, Mister Parker?”

“Can I speak now? I promise I won’t do shitty jokes anymore.” He pleaded with her, but Gwen snorted out.

“Can you do that?” late-night dinners in silence seem to lighten her mood a little, as her body is not quite as tensed as earlier.

He gave her a shrug after a moment of contemplation.

“Times and places, Pete,” Gwen warned him as she nodded her head.

“Yeah, noted.” He gives her a double thumbs up. Then he cleared his throat and straightened himself in his seat opposite hers “So... outside of the illegal amount of work, did anything interesting happen?”

“I heard whispers about Connors’s consideration regarding my employment, after graduation.” Gwen gives him a tired smile; she’s elated by it but too exhausted to exert energy like usual.

“That’s great! I knew they would want you with them.” Peter leans in, tightens his arm around her shoulder, and plants a kiss on the side of her head. Their feet never stop or falter in the rhythm, keeping onward towards their apartment as Gwen’s slumber creeps in at a steady pace.

“I’m having second thoughts, though. It was so draining these past few weeks taking on Dr. Conners’s works; I don’t know if I will have the mental capacity to put up with it, even if the pay is theoretically nice.” She pressed into his side even more, resting her weight on his frame, and entrusted him with dragging them home the rest of the way.

“And here I thought I could be your sugar baby for a while after graduation.” He teased, heaving her feathery light frame above the ground onto his back, securing her hands on his chest and carrying her like that.

“Be careful, kid. I’m issuing a confinement protocol if you get hurt.” Despite his groaning tone, Clint shows genuine concern about her ‘unofficial’ investigation. She’d briefed him about her suspicion regarding some of the Bros (Tracksuits) frequenting an old building owned by one of Wilson Fisk’s public faces. She had been camping on this particular rooftop with three slices of Hawaiian (with pineapples, yes) for hours to make sure about the shadiness below before contacting her former mentor/grumpy dad.

“That’s not fair!” she hissed silently “I always get hurt in this type of situation!” keeping her monocular trained on the keypad, memorizing the combination punched in as of now by one of the Bros to gain access.

“Then get better at it!” he groaned, again, but she heard a faint chuckle of Lila and Nate in the background. “Look, Kate, I will quit complaining if you have some backup with you; it’s stupid to do this kind of ops alone anyway.” And some quiet teases about ‘papa bear’ reached her ears, eliciting a smile on her lips.

“I’m just here to do recon, though.”

“It’s never only a recon with you. Remember that op you ran with Yelena half a year ago? She almost shot you herself when you botched the infiltration?”

“That was different.” She pouts.

“I don’t think so. Gotta say, though; blowing a Black Widow’s element of surprise with a loose arrow from your quiver is something.” She can imagine a smirk on his face.

“Ugh!”

“Call someone for help.” He paused for a bit, then resumed with a teasing lilt in his voice “How about that little boyfriend of yours? Spidey--” she cuts the comm.

She would have, to be honest, if she did not learn about his new girlfriend in the picture. It has always been fun and memorable with their joint operations in the past.

Kate Bishop was never a jealous type; she could get her hands on anyone if she put some effort into it.

But rarely she would find someone who left their mark as Peter Parker did.

Shaking her head to chase away the nostalgia about to set in, Hawkeye nocks a zipline arrow, pulling the purple bowstring backward using her shoulder, and releasing it to its intended target. The titanium head splits and acts as a hook point, just enough to support her weight. Using her custom bow to descend behind an unaware bro, Kate quickly performs a chokehold on him with efficiency and then makes her way toward the door.

“Oh, joy! Tight hallway!” she exclaims with fake enthusiasm. Input a secret set of actions with her bow, it collapses into a smaller package that she can tuck away behind her utility belt. Readjusted the quiver on her back to its safety position, Kate activated the contraptions on both of her vambraces.

A modernized and improved version of Black Widow’s gauntlets, capable of shooting a limited amount of taser pellets and darts. A birthday gift from Harley Keener.

Kate stalks the hallway deeper into the unknown, gauntlets charged and primed to be used at a moment’s notice.

Despite constant teases and banters (with herself on the receiving end most of the time) the Black Widow managed to instill some stealth tactics into her brain, and Kate has trained excessively since.

Ones who are in the shadow can see and hear everything of those who stand in the light, too afraid of the dark to look upon further than passive glances.

A conversation can be heard ahead from her current location, about five to seven feet away to the left, inside a partitioned room of some sort. She crept along the wall, mindful to not scrape any of her hard-surface equipment against it, and the conversation grew clearer.

“Bro, we are not going to get it on time, bro!” one of the Bros spoke with a tired voice, grunting somewhat like he was exerting physical labor at the moment.

“Quit whining, bro! Boss says we should be ready in an hour, bro!” the other joined in, in kindred to the first.

“Why are the Maggia coming here, bro? This is Kingpin’s turf and everybody knows it!” sounds of hard objects scattering the floor followed by a yelp of surprise.

“Bro! Be careful! These things are fragile, bro!” Kate internally groans at the excessive use of nouns.

She reached the threshold of the entrance and peeked inside, mentally noting two of the tracksuits arguing over crates with Oscorp’s logo printed on them.

“Jackpot!” Hawkeye whispered to herself, eyes scanning the room thoroughly and satisfied when there were none other than the duo of bros in her vision. Doing a quick calculation of trajectory and distance, Kate fires two sleeping darts at each of them.

“Ouch! What the hell br…” the first slumped over.

“What the hell is t…” the second one slides down against a crate. Both start snoring immediately.

“Goodnight, bros.” she chirped while making her way towards the unorganized crates on the floor, bearing the logo of Oscorp and codes that she could not understand “What is Fisk doing with these?” spending a minute or so trying to unlock the mechanism, she got through without much damage done to it “Let’s see… vials of GR-25? Component B43? RBT-09?” her eyes scanned each item thoroughly, still confusing over the technical labels she’s not familiar with. “What is Fisk going to do with them?” she snatched samples and stored them in a safety pouch on her back, intending to investigate further.

She can contact Peter to rope him in with this information; he’s more of a scientist than her and Harley after all.

“Bad kitty.” a sultry voice emerges from above her head. Kate did not know how the ambusher managed to keep her presence hidden, but she reacted immediately by firing electric pellets in the general direction of the voice. The pellets hit concretes instead, crackles of electricity lit up the area a bit and showed a vacant area.

Without a warning, a roundhouse kick landed on her left shoulder and sent Hawkeye flying into the nearby crates. Wheezing in a shocked breath, a jolt of pain shot up from the impact site from both the kick and to collision. Thanks to the minimum protective layers in her suit, Kate suffered almost the full force of her assailant’s attack that rendered her left arm numb.

A pair of glowing domino-shaped emerald orbs made an appearance from the shadow, clicking of boots ringing against her ragged breathing. Slightly curled tresses of silvery hair framing a pretty face adorned by red lipstick and a visor. She is dressed from neck to toe in a modified Black Panther suit with decorative white furs and sprung claws, cautiously sauntering out of the shade into the neon light.

A satisfying smirk plays on her full lips should have been alluring and disarming if not for the inhuman strength delivered to one of the Avengers earlier.

“Was I hit you too hard? I’m still adapting, sorry.”

“You!” Hawkeye grunts through the throbs in her arm, trying to chase them away in case the thief in front of her decides to pounce. The top priority should be evasion and escape; her tactical gears can’t withstand Vibranium.

“The name’s Black Cat.” Black Cat, as self-acclaimed, stops at the crate she was inspecting earlier. “I don’t think an Avenger has any business here, darling,” Black Cat retracts her claws, sending a false sense of ease to the archer while picking up a sleeping dart from one of the tracksuits. Sniffing the chemical with an amused smile “Strong stuff. Not afraid to overdose them?” she tosses it aside, sauntering around at a fixed distance.

Kate quietly curses under her breath at the realization that Black Cat knows how to fight.

“I usually don’t stay very long,” she shrugged, feeling the throb dissipate away from her sore muscles “I think you can relate.”

“A gal after my own heart,” Black Cat crooned. “I take it as a compliment, don’t worry.” She looked around cautiously, scanning the vicinity and listening in on their surroundings for any surprise that the Avenger might have laid around. “You here by yourself? I thought Peter might be with you.”

“What?” a look of surprise and shock plays on Kate’s face; she couldn’t believe what she heard from the thief.

“Peter Parker? Your little Spider? I thought he might be tagging along.” A smirk plastered the thief’s lips as she noticed the expression on the archer “It’s a shame that things didn’t work out, you two were the cutest for a while.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Kate pursed her lips, injecting a stim into her exposed shoulder “and I can totally 1-v-1 you, by the way.” Hawkeye quickly reaches for her bow and unfolds it, preparing for a fight in a more spacious area like this.

“Promises, promises,” Black Cat sighed out with a daring smirk, shooting a hook line just barely an inch away from Hawkeye’s face, reeling herself in with great speed, jutting her armored knee outward to land a flying knee aimed at Hawkeye’s chest.

Kate predicts the timing of the hit and delivers a downward elbow strike that negates the impact, following the momentum with a straight jab of her left fist that is protected by the custom knuckle guard of her bow, staggering the Black Cat backward. She then pirouetted herself on one foot to land a push kick against Black Cat’s face, which the thief is fast enough to react by guarding with her arms despite being sent further away.

Vibranium is still a conductive material, which Kate exploits fully with a quick shot of her taser pellet and doubled the pressure by releasing two blunt arrows consecutively; one landed on the left shoulder as payback, and another struck the pressure point on the Clavicle that earn a grunt of pain.

“Tsk!” Black Cat grimaces irritatingly due to the muscle spasms caused by electricity, albeit at minimum as most has been insulated out, and two throbbing points from the arrows. Pushing through the discomforts, Felicia got in close trying to take the advantage away from her opponent, and started delivering a flurry of punches and kicks adapting Taekwondo, Muay-Thai, and Russian Systema. No words were exchanged for a whole minute of attacks and counters. Hawkeye is no slouch in hand-to-hand either; personally trained in advanced CQB by Clint Barton himself, she can follow Black Cat equally; and she also sparred with Spider-Man often back in the days, although Peter went easy on her with his superhuman reflexes and muscle strength.

Eyesight is secondary to gut feelings when engaging with an opponent who has relatively the same level of combat experience, she follows her instinct of when to dodge, how to counter, and where to hit. Few arrows flew between them whenever Kate managed to gain some short span of distance away from swiping claws and mean kicks. She almost exhausted her options by the second minute; having missed all of her shots because of how flexible and reflexive the Black Cat is. Although Black Cat’s attacks weren’t as precise and brutal as Yelena’s they are still aggressive and quick.

“This is getting boring, right?” Kate grunted out when she evaded one of the high kicks, lowering herself and trying to tackle Black Cat off balance, but the thief was quick to step out of the trajectory.

“Speak for yourself, this is fun.” Black Cat puts more pressure on her advances, determined to end this fight as fast as possible.

“We have a completely different definition of fun,” Kate grunted again as the claws grazed her ribs, the carbon-fiber body armor saved her flesh.

“At least you are more fun to play with than Peter; he’s too soft and reluctant, I’ll tell you that.”

“Who?” the distraction runs its course, as Kate starts to lose focus, and a gap forms in her defense.

“Oh, don’t play coy with me, Kate Bishop. I know Peter Parker is Spider-Man.” Black Cat ended her announcement with a spinning drop-kick that sent Kate flying into a concrete wall. “I remember his name and his face; I remember he got exposed by Quentin Beck but later the whole world got amnesia about it somehow.” Black Cat aimed to land a stomp where Hawkeye was a moment ago, instead her boot collided with the wall.

Kate rolled away on her side, breathing raggedly through her mouth against the colic in her chest, nocked another arrow, and released it straight to the side of Black Cat’s face; the arrow morphed its tip into a sphere that acted as a fist, knocking the thief away from the impact. With her opponent knocked away and a chance to escape appears, Kate seizes it immediately and makes for the entrance she got in from.

“Come on, Clint!” she tries to contact her mentor. Emphasizes on tries.

“Who’s this?” Peter asks in a groggy slur, feeling Gwen stirs a little in a spoon of his arms.

“Spider-Man?” the other end of the call inquired in such a worried tone. Checking his contact and the time, he realizes it had connected through his ‘work’ number, producing a hum as an acknowledgment. “Kate’s missing.”

“I’ll call you back, Mister Barton.” Peter ended the call as he finished putting on his Spidey gloves, skipping his way toward the living area where he had tossed his mask on the couch earlier.

“Should I call Dad?” Gwen asks with her phone in hand, draping a thin nightgown over her otherwise half-naked body, concerns lining her face as she had overheard the conversation regarding Hawkeye’s going M.I.A. about an hour ago while conducting illegal and unregulated reconnaissance.

“No. Don’t,” Peter objected under his mask, his lens activating and recalculating for a bit until his suit system is operational “It will be unnecessarily more complicated if NYPD knows about this. I have to do it alone, or the UN and the Council will have a reason to fuck the Avengers over.” He quickly walks to her “Keep in touch, I might need some help through Edi.” She nods and he shoots himself out of the window in a dolphin dive.

Gwen, being fully awake and too worried to fall asleep again, stationed herself in front of Peter’s laptop and loaded up EDITH. “Link Spider-Man HUD and stats.” She commands with a familiarity to navigate the system of the AI.

“Spider-Man?” she calls for him through an in-ear.

“Loud and clear, Weaver.” he answered with their agreed callsign, wind rushing through the mic on his mask, “A warehouse in Hell’s Kitchen; belong to Harmon shipping.” He informs her.

“Harmon…” Gwen mumbles to herself as she surfs through the Spider-Surveillance network that spans the entirety of NYPD as well as the internet for the name. Several shows little documented details about a certain Felicity Harmon, there were some small notes listed her as one of the Dusted during 2018-2023. “Nothing on her that linked to Wilson Fisk; no transaction records, no public meetings, no picture newer than the one she got documented with after the Blip in 2023.” She sends the mugshot to his suit.

“Wait…that’s…” he trailed off, instinctively shooting webs and running on walls while inspecting the face of the person; her eyes and loose strands of platinum hair were a dead giveaway. “That’s the Cat! This definitely is connected to Willy!”

“That’s her? Now I know how she gave you a slip,” Gwen smirks a little, trying to lighten his mood with a tease.

“What?”

“I mean, she’s gorgeous. Must have been so distracting to gaze into those green eyes, dude.” Gwen displays a smile on her lips when she hears a snort and a chuckle from him, succeeding in lightening his soured mood since the call.

“Yeah, they were so mesmerizing that my Spider-sense didn’t warn me about the kiss,” He cackles out unintentionally.

“Kiss?” Gwen sported a raised brow on her face.

“Umm…yeah? She used it to knee my crotch, not like I enjoyed it or anything!” he flails his hands in the air as gravity accelerates the free fall towards the busy street despite the hour.

“Full-on make out or just a peck?” a tinge of playfulness laced in her question.

“Huh?”

“I wanna know the deets,”

“You are not…mad?” He squinted his lens as confusion played under the mask and also seeped into the question directed toward the receiving end of his communicator.

“You wanted to kiss her? You'd actively pursue a romantic gesture with her?”

“No,” he replied in a serious tone, which Gwen appreciates.

“Then I’m not mad.” She meant it.

“You are the coolest girlfriend I’ve had; and I had, like, one and a kinda girlfriends so far.”

“At least I don’t have to worry about my dad getting arrested at homecoming, right?” She teased. Spider-Man groaned through the channel. “I’ll cross reference NYPD patrol routes in the area of the warehouse, maybe there’s some report in the system as well.”

“My hero.” Peter crooned.

“Shut up and swing faster, Bug-boy.”

“Aye, cap’n Stacy!” he salutes to the empty air ahead of him and maneuvers himself through the chilling air. “Seriously though, Weaver, if you are tired just go back to bed, okay? I can run this alone just fine.”

“Our medical supplies are low, just sayin.” She yawned into the mic and picked up Peter’s laptop with her to the bed.

“Ye of little faith!” he countered.

Darkness.

They’ve blindfolded her. Doesn’t feel like anything was over her face, though.

Her sore back pressed into a hard surface, which might have been some sort of metallic, and straps of nylon secured her in place. The numbness around her neck and thighs still throbbing, eliciting a groan of pain from her dried lips.

Three sets of footsteps reach her ears, boots all, one even sounds heavier than the others.

When she tries to struggle against her restraints, jolts of pain shoot up from both of her arms; seems like whoever knocked her out and brought her back here broke her wrists and nailed them in places, literally.

“You are quite a sadist, doctor,” One deep voice she remembers belonging to Wilson Fisk himself spoke to one of his comrades as they were approaching the contraption that held her in place “Yet, I can’t argue with the effectiveness of such…barbaric display.” He took a stand on her left, that much she could deduce based on the direction of his voice.

“I take no particular enjoyment in doing such things, Mister Fisk, I was merely ensuring Miss Bishop’s custody as best I could.” The Doctor, the one that ambushed her as she was about to flee Black Cat, replied in a cold and calculated tone, yet Kate swears she detected a tinge of smugness.

“Ya can’t fool nobody, Octo, I saw your eyes when you nailed them in.” the last of the trio chimed in with a thick Italian accent.

“I assure you, Joseph, I have not the desire nor the intention to do more harm than necessary to Miss Bishop.” Kate felt some of the straps have been tugged and inspected, maybe to note any loose spot she might have put in already “I only wish to implore to her that she should stay put, and not try to escape in vain.” She felt a wash of hot breath ghosting over her nailed wrists, and finally registered Octo’s voice to be modulated or at least spoken from underneath some sort of mask.

“Don’t fret, Miss Bishop; the wounds on your wrists should not prove to be fatal if you keep still and not irritate them further.” Octo’s modulated voice talked to her, “I must apologize furthermore into the recent event; I might have exerted unnecessary aggression, but you have trespassed my establishment and from what my lovely associate had told us, you decided to steal some of our properties as well.” He shifts a little, and many mechanical whirrs are ringing around them.

“Creepy as shit…” Martello mumbled.

“I would have felt more at ease if I could see who I’m talking to, Mister…?” Kate yapped.

“Doctor. Doctor Octopus, that is my…name.” he delivered it in such a skin-clawing tone, a hint of satisfaction laced within “And as for your sight, I’m afraid to inform you about the possibility of you never regaining them.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Kate gritted out, and panic started to settle inside her beating heart after the statement, or a bluff, by her captor.

“I didn’t maim you, physically. I merely took precautions to prevent a facial recognition on your part, should you ever get out of here.” A ghost of manic satisfaction was hidden in every word spoken, as he might have noticed a look of despair plastered Hawkeye’s face. “The darkness you see was not a result of blindfold of any kind.”

“You…blinded me?” Kate whimpered out in quick breaths and panicked mind, trying to make sense of the situation she found herself in.

“More or less, Miss Bishop.” The doctor mused and used his gloved fingers to inspect her widened but sightless eyes “I thank you for your involuntary spirit in the advancement of science.” Mocking, she can deduce that from his voice.

“You sick son of a—”

“My dear, I suggest you familiarize yourself with the darkness.” A low rumble of chuckles emanated from the cruel doctor.

“I will hunt you down…” she gritted out from her clenched teeth, sightless eyes darting randomly out of habit.

“Waste not your energy, Miss Bishop. I will leave you in peace, here. I’ve hooked an IV to you to provide sustenance for the next 48 hours.” He retreats from the vicinity around her, mechanical whirring still audibles along with his steps “I calculated that you might be able to hold on for a bit after the IV ran dry, but I’m not certain if either blood loss or starvation might claim you first.” He said in such a curious tone; like talking to a guinea pig than a fellow human.

“Such a cruel fate.” Wilson Fisk lamented, as his voice faded like he was walking away.

“We will get along real well, Octo,” Martello spoke with glee and sadistic admiration.

“Please, Joseph, I have no interest in dwelling on mafia businesses; I’m a scientist!” Doctor Octopus cackled.

Their chatter faded away after a moment, leaving her to the cruel silence.

She tries to open her eyes wider to challenge the criminal’s words, yet she can’t deny the truth after a while.

She had lost her sight; the most crucial aspect to being Clint’s successor, and to stay herself.

Without it, she can’t see any target.

She can’t land any shot.

She can’t fight.

She can’t be Hawkeye anymore.

She might die, that one hits the hardest.

Whimpers crawled their way out of her throat.

She starts to sob, to wail, to cry into the deserted space occupied only by her miserable and broken self.

Or so she thought.

He had been searching, thoroughly in each warehouse relating to Felicity Harmon.

Found some of the Tracksuits hanging around, but interrogation yields no result, yet.

“We have been here before, Peter,” Edith informed him after his unfocused mind led to another roundabout to one of the checked warehouses from earlier.

“There must be somewhere we overlooked,” He gritted to himself, landing on the metal sheet roof with a thud, crawling towards the edge of the back overlooking the Hudson. “Can you refigure our scanners to isolate an RFID signal? I remember I’ve integrated one into her gauntlets.” He perches and interacts with the HUD in his mask.

“Certainly, but I need the specific frequency to differentiate it from any electronics around us,” Edith replied, already halfway on recalibration.

“I guess the schematics should be in the laptop,” he mused, changing the channel to Gwen’s “Weaver?”

“Huh?” she answered his call with a slur in her voice; must have dozed off a little.

“Sorry for waking you up, but can you see if there’s any file named ‘KB’ in the AVG folder on the desktop?” Gwen hums.

“Mostly pics of you and Kate together, some files, and a video?” Gwen replied after a moment, with curiosity in her voice.

“Don’t open the vid, please. There should be a file showing a schematic of Hawkeye’s equipment and gears.” He pleaded with nervousness and a bit of embarrassment about that certain digital memorial of himself and the brunette archer.

“Ooh, something sexy, huh?” Gwen teases from her end, eyes scanning the opened schematics on the screen to find what Spider-Man requires.

“Uh…”

“Didn’t know you guys were freaky like that,” she continues with a smirk, and quickly locks in onto a drawing that might relate to his request “Found them. Is it of a gauntlet or her quiver?”

“Gauntlet.” He groaned at the embarrassment of himself ever doing such a raunchy thing on camera with Kate in the past, teenage hormones, man. “And I would prefer you didn’t open the vid, really,”

“Why? It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked.” Gwen chuckles. She knows why but teasing her boyfriend is irresistible.

“Gwen…” he delivered her name in a low voice.

“Ease up, dude! Just messin’ with ya!” she declared with a laugh “Anything in particular that I should look for in the design?”

“I added some kind of RFID broadcaster into it, there should be a frequency next to it.” He breathed out, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, it's here. I’m inputting it to Edith’s prompt.” Gwen informed him as her fingers punched in the combination.

“Got it. Thank you, Weaver.”

“Be careful, okay? Don’t let it get to your head.” Gwen chided him, with concerns seeping into her voice; she knows how much of a ruthless person Peter can be if he’s desperate to save someone. She can still recall many occasions when he would come home with cuts or gunshot wounds because he had to use himself as a shield.

“Have I ever?” Peter teased.

“There’s this one time back in—”

“Okay, okay! I will.”

“You better be back and cook breakfast tomorrow,” Gwen whispered into the communicator with a tired yet hopeful smile tugging on her lips.

He had traced the signal and arrived here, but Kate was nowhere to be found.

The only things left behind were her pair of gauntlets, crushed beyond repair, and splatters of blood.

The amount is small, but it is her blood, nonetheless.

“Any cameras around here?” he asked Edith, hands still clutching Kate’s discarded items.

“No. I’m sorry, Spidey.” His AI replied after a moment of scanning their surroundings.

“Fuck.” He grunted under his breath, using his webbing to strap Hawkeye’s gauntlets to himself for keepsake. “Felicity Harmon… Edi, filter NYPD crime notifications for burglaries and sightings of Black Cat.” As he commanded his assistant, his eyes fell on a scrape mark on the cement floor, little craters left behind by prongs in the shape of quad-pinchers.

“One moment,”

Some sort of metallic claws… “You gotta be fucking kidding me!” a memory of Otto Octavius rushes in; four mechanical and sentient arms that almost crushed his chest in. This one has four instead of three claws, but the principle is still the same.

What’s next? Is Norman Osborn about to turn himself into a maniacal super-murderer as well?!

“I notice a spike in your brain wave and heart rate; you alright?” Edith inquired while rummaging through NYPD servers.

“I’m fine!” he grunted out, dragging his palm down his face to calm his nerves “Anything?”

“No recently reported burglaries so far, neither is there a sighting.” Edith’s report frustrates him even more. Then, with a sigh, he decided to take a risk.

“Disengage firewall 4B; I want you to serf the city’s surveillance systems. Find me Black Cat!” Peter hissed out, propelling himself like a bullet out of the window.

“That would violate artificial intelligence—” Edith started.

“Disengage. Firewall 4B,” he emphasizes with her, quickly making his way to the highest perch in the area.

“Okay.” Edith conceded and obliged, recalibrating her programs and quickly penetrating New York’s weak and unreliable security network. “Grumpy's calling,” Edith informed him, and he immediately picked up.

“Spidey?”

“What’s the news, JJ?”

Jessica groaned a bit at the nickname, but let it slide before answering his question “I don’t know if it connects, but I just saw Joseph Martello having a late-night romantic stroll with Kingpin. Central Park, east.” The alcoholic woman informed him with whispers.

“Are you keeping an eye on them?” Spider-Man asks in a hopeful tone; wishing that out of all the vigilantes that he worked with, Jessica Jones might be crazy enough to tail two of the biggest crime lords in the city, at night, by herself.

“You want me to?” she asked but had already decided to stick around just because the promises of dirt are alluring in itself.

“I’m five minutes there, keep them in your sight.” He said with newfound optimism, a bit of burning hope, and a dark mood.

Swinging has never been so fast, burning through his webbing supplies as the view of Central Park rushes into his vision range.

“Where?” he asked Jessica while reaching the height of the pendulum, letting go of the web line to roll forward, creating an acceleration using his body.

“Swedes Cottage. Keep out of sight.” the more mature vigilante replied in a hushed tone, hiding in a bush with Fisk and Hammerhead in her peripheral range.

“Behind you,” Peter informs her when he lands about a foot behind her crouching form. Jessica gestured for him to keep low and approach her without turning to look, and he complied.

“What do you think they are talking about?”

“Why don’t we listen in?” he casually lifts the hem of his mask to reach an earpiece on his left ear, fishing it out and offering it to Jessica, who has a look of incredulous on her sharp face.

“I should turn you in for an invasion of privacy,” she chuckled softly, accepting the device and putting it on.

“Good thing you are not a cop, then.”

“Smartass.”

“Shh!” Spider-Man put his finger on her lips, which Jessica slapped away quietly with a ghost of a grin.

“How was the latest lot?” Wilson Fisk said, eyes never fall on the mafia he is talking to.

“Still shitty; Octo promises that it will work like wonders, but so far my men can barely lift cars with some struggle.” Joseph Martello, better known as Hammerhead, replied with an unsatisfied look. He sported a white collared shirt, a deep navy jacket, and matching color slacks.

“I thought he would look different.” Spidey chimed in between a pause, nudging Jessica in the shoulder with his.

“How?” she deeply knows that she will regret asking the motor-mouthed gimmick hero to elaborate.

“Thought his head would be, like, more shark-ish? I even imagined it looking like a literal hammer for a while, but somehow a shark’s one seems less ridiculous.” He smirked when Jessica’s groan reached his ears.

“He got a metal plate on top of his skull, you dork.” Jessica couldn’t reign in her cackle.

“Oh, that’s why!” he nods his head up and down to emphasize his words.

“Shut it!” Jessica hit him in the shoulder, like a love tap despite her enhanced strength, and slapped her palm on his mouth to shut him up.

“How long will you be able to keep a secret about that girl? I imagine such a scandal won’t be good for your… families.” Kingpin casually chided the crime lord beside him. The youngest Don huffed out a laugh as a reply.

“That slithering bastard might wanted her dead, but I’m still callin’ shots in my turf. I will let the little hawk go after about a week; she won’t be able to identify any of us, so no need to do anything drastic.” Hammerhead elaborated with theatric gestures of his hands.

“Good. I take it that you will care for her while she’s under your custody?” Fisk looked at his side, lifting one eyebrow at Hammerhead’s smiling gruff face. “I hope you know the retaliation we will face if Hawkeye ends up dead.” Wilson Fisk grunts to announce his departure, and the giant crime lord stands up and walks away from the bench.

“Hold it, Fisk!” Hammerhead called and Kingpin stopped in his step, refusing to turn backward but humming as a cue to speak “Can I borrow your little kitten for Saturday night? Zenith and her patrons want some pretty faces for a party.” The mafia has a smirk on his face.

“You would have to take it up with her by yourself, Don Martello; Felicia is her own woman, and I do not dwell in human trafficking.” With finality in his words, Fisk retreats to the darkness away from Hammerhead, leaving the mafia alone.

“Well?” Jessica breaks the silence after Hammerhead also leaves, both get out of the bush to stand under the light.

“Somewhere the Maggia owns, which is, like, a quarter of Manhattan.” Peter sighed, a grim expression never left his face.

“I’m not familiar with them either… but there’s someone who might.” Jessica offered.

“It’s Jess! Answer the damn door!” Jessica spoke to the wooden door of her acquaintance’s apartment, mindful to not wake anyone else.

“The fuck you doin' here at this hour, Jess?!” the voice echoed out from inside as the lock is being undone.

“We need some help,” Jessica replied as the door slowly creaked open, revealing a familiar face in an oversized shirt, and black panties. Peter gasped out in surprise and spun away. “It’s about Hammerhead,” Jessica quirked a brow at the flustered masked vigilante beside her.

“Why is Spider-Man here with you?” Yuriko Watanabe asked out in confusion, her groggy and exhausted mind restarting itself immediately at the mention of the crime lord.

“Emotional support pet-spider,” Peter chirped out, still turning his back to the lieutenant.

“It’s too early for your stupid jokes, come in. Let me get something on, lest he might have a heart attack.” George Stacy’s prodigy chuckled and gestured for both visitors to get in.

“Someone else’s home?” Jessica wiggled her brows at the shorter woman but received only a groan as a response. Yuri quickly retreated to her bedroom and shortly rejoined the others in her living area with sweatpants on.

“Now tell me why you are here.” The policewoman crosses her arms and alternates her inquiry gaze between Jessica and Spider-Man.

Jessica tosses the transcript audio log of Fisk’s and Hammerhead’s conversation from earlier to her, which she snatches out of the air effortlessly “Overheard Kingpin and Joseph Martello having their romantic chat about half an hour ago, thought you might want it.”

“Okay? What’s the price?” Yuri examined the drive for a moment before putting it on the kitchen island that she was leaning on at the moment.

“Hammerhead took my friend hostage,” Spider-Man was the one who responded “I don’t know where to start looking, and Miss Jones said you are the best on Maggia. So, can you help me narrow down my search? I can’t wait 24 hours to report it; she got hurt, pretty bad.” He pleaded and Yuri detected none of his usual playfulness on his being, only agitation and concerns.

“Your friend?”

“Uh…”

“Trust me, Yuri, you don’t need to know the name.” Jessica chimed in with a forced smile “Look, you know how much of a bastard Hammerhead can be, just tell him what you know about hideouts or sicko dungeons he might have.”

“Hammerhead, huh?” Yuriko starts making her way to a hidden compartment in her apartment and revealing the collection of files she has on most of the Dons. Picking around for a minute or so, she returned to Spider-Man with a single folder with ‘Hammerhead’ scribbled on the front with a permanent marker. “That’s all I can dig up on the flathead, he’s reckless but very discreet if that makes sense. If you can add something to it by the end, I’ll be very quiet about this meeting.” She got a smirk on.

“Edi, scan everything,” Peter commanded slowly running the optic sensor over the pages.

“You gonna go with him?” both women relocated themselves to a couch, Jessica with her flask in her hands and Yuri with her cup of warm tea.

“No. I’m too much of a public face to go anywhere with any of them. Besides,” Jessica took another swig of whiskey, grunting from the bitterness and burning sensation cascading down her throat “the kid is more than capable of handling this alone.”

“How old is he anyway?” Yuri sips her tea with her brows raised, directing the question to Jessica “I don’t want to find out I’d willingly send a teenager to his death.”

“He told us he’s turning 22 next year, but with how he acts I’d say the guy barely grew out of high school.” The alcoholic detective shrugged with a smirk.

“You’ve wounded my adultery pride, Miss Jones!” Spidey hissed from the desk, playfully slumping his shoulders like a defeated cat.

“Phrasing, Bug-boy!” Jessica groaned, but a ghost of a smile tugged at her lips. After another minute had passed, Spidey approached them with the folder in hand. He returned it to Yuri’s hand and quickly made his way to the window.

“Thank you, Yuri.” He said, and the women could tell he was sporting a grateful smile underneath the mask “I’ll try to keep it quiet,” he salutes them and leap out in a swan dive.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

FLAMES

“Hello?” Kate called out in a hoarse voice. Her dried lips started to crack as her blood caked on her wrists where the nails embedded her into the metal board. Convincing herself that she heard footsteps circling her restrained form, she’d done pitying herself for hours and now any kindle of hope is better than nothing. She registered the walking pattern, or rather strolling around like a predator watching over its prey.

A sudden creaking of a metal door stopped her visitor in their track, quietly hiding themselves.

“Hello again, Miss Bishop!” the cruel doctor made a return, accompanied by the sounds of mechanical whirrs as usual. His tone borderlines on joyous and maniacal. He stops near her left side, and a cold piece of metallic material cupping her jaw and turning her head sideways as if to inspect “I’d say you look quite healthy considering the blood loss, then again it has merely been hours after our last conversation.” The Doctor commented with a satisfying hum after he had released his metal pinchers from her face.

“What do you want?” Hawkeye gritted through her sore throat and with all the strength she could muster from her exhausted body, directed the venom in her voice toward the general direction of her torturer’s voice.

“Originally, Wilson and Joseph wanted to keep you safely in our custody, out of fear,” Doctor Octopus replied with a cold tone “but then, I’ve decided to enact some… revenge of my own instead.” A sudden jolt of pain shot through her body as some foreign liquid was being forced into her bloodstream, spreading wildly and quickly throughout her vascular system, amplifying the numb pains all over her body to a whole new level. “Have you ever had the pleasure of experiencing a concentrated dose of Hyperalgesia? It’s quite popular among spies and assassins to extract information via advanced interrogation.” He explained.

“Lovely.” Kate gritted her teeth through the slowly intensifying pain all over her body, ranging from the previously numbness sores to cuts that had been cranked up to eleven.

“I see, agent Barton has trained you well, Miss Bishop.” Doc Ock mused, prodding a sharp end of something metallic into her shoulder, and it hurt like a motherfucker, more than it should have been. Kate gritted her teeth together to subdue the pain, but a whimper still made its way out of her throat.

“I’m sure you are quite aware of his not-so-glamorous past. He was one of Nicholas’s trusted agents and top assassins. He was such a focused and determined young man back in the days.” the familiarity mixed with disdain is evident in his words.

Another jolt of pain erupted from the side of her neck, where another needle pricked into her muscles “We used to work together sometimes." He continues with another needle jammed into the soft flesh above her collarbone, which elicits a scream to his delight “One day, commands came from the ivory tower for my execution.” He uses a scalpel to cut a shallow gash along her arm, stretching the overstimulated pain as long and agonizing as he can “I’m quite a vigilance person, you see, not so green in clandestine world. And yet…” he trailed off, building up a horrifying anticipation for his captive, and then casually jamming an arrow into her thigh, purposefully spare the femoral artery to keep her alive a bit longer. Kate screeched out against the overwhelming pain, futilely protesting against her restraints. “That, Miss Bishop, is where his arrow struck my wife.” He choked on his words, displaying such a broken and angry man underneath the mask and voice modulator. “I’ve concluded that the worst kind of torment came from the suffering of loved ones,” The sound of his mechanical appendages moving instills a new sense of dread into her, shortly after, her arms are locked in tight grips, the metal pinchers crushing pressure down on her elbows, not quite outright breaking them, but keeping them squeezes to prolong the pain. Then, he pops her elbows, making her scream from the unbearable pain.

The shadowy figure is hidden from sight, grimacing at the scene before her.

“This will be over if we just communicate, you know?” Spider-Man groaned with annoyance while dodging metal bats swung at his head and body, and countering their assaults with kicks and jabs “Again; tell me, where’s Hawkeye?” another one of the goons stabbed a knife straight towards his face, so he twisted on his feet to swat it away and followed by a hook to the attacker’s jaw.

This is the fourth hideout he has blazed through since Yuri provided information to him, hours spent on searching and brawling it out with Hammerhead’s men taking its toll on his usual cheerfulness and quips.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, bug!?” one of them jeered with a smug on his face, which Peter quickly shut down by careening a table into him.

“Yes! Very much so!” Peter tosses a web bomb at the remaining group; it explodes on contact cocooning all of them in thick layers of webbing. “I promise minor injuries and blunt force trauma for anyone who tells me where,” he announced with another roundhouse kick dead on one of the mustached mafia goons “Hammerhead,” a push-kick to another one of them, sending that person crashing into the wall “is keeping,” Peter contorted out of instinct to evade a sweep kick aimed at his chest, then delivered a counter-attack in a form of spinning high-kick “Hawkeye?!” he might’ve exerted more force than necessary with his last punch, but he couldn’t dwell on it right now.

All of them lay beaten on the floor or stuck to the walls and ceiling, Peter squints his eyes and scans for any that are still conscious. He found one struggling against a cocoon of web covering him from neck to knees.

With quiet rage, Spider-Man zooms towards him, prying him off the bench, and taking him out of the window in his arms. Swinging higher and higher to the apex of surrounding buildings, he throws the mafia up in the air.

“What the fuuuck!” the mafia screams his lung out as he falls to the pavement below, then yelped in pain when a strand of webbing caught his ankles and dislocated them due to the sudden change in momentum. “Ouch!”

As he frantically looks around for the vigilante, Spider-Man menacingly descends himself in front of the mafia with his lenses squinted into thin lines, deafening silence enveloped their proximity.

“Where?” Peter’s voice turned grim and brimming with annoyance. He’d improve his intimidation techniques these few years.

“I won’t tell you shit, bug!” the mafia spits at him, which Peter dodged easily.

“Next one is gonna be your knees, man. So, be kind to yourself, and tell me what I want to know.” Empty threats are unmotivating, so he ascends to the zipline again and hoists the mafia up with constant whimper from the dislocated ankles.

“The boss is scarier than you!” and Peter nonchalantly drops the mafia down. Just when he was about to hit the pavement again, Peter shot two strands of webbing that stuck to the calves and yanked them up. “Fuuuck!” the mafia roared and one of his knees popped out of its socket.

Spider-Man lands silently in front of him, looking at the mafia from the reverse vertical perspective, and stands next to the whimpering man.

“Well?”

“Okay! Okay, man!” the mafia cried out, trying to ease the pain he was suffering right now by his weight. “I’ll tell you! Put me down!”

“Was that so hard?” Peter tears off the web lines with his bare hands, propping the mafia up against the trash bin and quickly resetting his ankles and knee, ignoring the painful yells. “Now, where?”

He’d crept his way inside the ventilation shaft since he got here, trying to make sense of where the Maggia might have held Kate captive. He crawls further and deeper into the depth of the building, changing direction downwards to where he’d guess they might keep her locked in. Chatters vibrate through the sarcophagus he’s in, discussing their criminal exploits and some personal matters among friends.

He ignores all of that, and his mind focuses on finding the brunette as fast as he can.

“Pete!” Her feet tapped the floor of his apartment’s hallway, outside of the door. Some jingles also announced the presence of another part of the duo as well.

“Huh?” he mumbled groggily as a reply, ruffles of things falling onto the floor warned her of his awakened state.

“Pizza? I thought I called you about it yesterday?” her tone is a mix of annoyance and amusement, and Lucky’s joyous bark at the mention of the panned goodness elicits a giggle out of her as well.

“Umm…pizza at 8.13?”

“Yep!” Kate replied “Come on! I’m freezing my ass off here!” Lucky then joined in with another bark.

He opened the door of his small and not-so-cozy apartment for her and the golden retriever. Kate grimaced at the sight of his beaten-up suit and traces of dried blood painted on them.

“Ran into a group of ninjas last night, with Daredevil.” He explained immediately, knowing the coming question. “Nothing serious, though! Just cuts and stab wounds.” He elaborated with a coy grin, which earned him a huff and head being pushed by her fingers.

“Of course, it’s nothing serious when it comes to you getting hurt, moron!” Kate reprimanded him, pointing her toe at the small single-chair desk he uses as a dining table “Sit down and get that tattered spandex off,” Kate demanded with an intimidating glare, resulting in Peter quickly propped down on the aforementioned furniture and tugging the Spidey suit off and revealing some still healing wounds on his back and abdomen, many had already mended themselves overnight and leaving only dried blood over them.

“See? Leave them on for one more hour and we are golden!” Peter twists his body a little, showing the less-worrisome wounds to her while biting his tongue to keep a wince from escaping due to the gash across his stomach.

“You want me to shower your wounds with disinfectant instead of dabbing them with cotton balls?” Kate crouches in front of him, focusing on the biggest ones painted across his, very toned, stomach as she gestured for him to lean back a bit. “Did you just take a power nap with these on your body? How disregarding you must be to do that, Peter?” she chided with squinted eyes.

“I was really tired?” he chanced with a sheepish grin and hisses when she purposefully dabs at the rim of the torn flesh “It’s nothing, Kate, I have healing factors.” The brunette archer has never been the softest hand to tend wounds, but she just let him tolerate the discomfort.

“Even so, you moronic idiot,” Kate emphasizes with increased pressure on her hands that are applying medicines to his wounds “It wouldn’t be the end of the world to take care of yourself, is it?” another glare delivered from her that elicited a nervous grin from him.

He kept quiet, only nodding his head.

Time passed and Kate found herself lying on Peter’s couch on her side, being spooned from the back by his athletic form. The steady breaths grazed her hair, brushing her skin and eliciting goosebumps from the sensation. Kate wiggles a little from the numbness in her limbs, blood rushing through her whole body at an accelerated rate due to her pumping heart.

The shifting she did resulted in Peter’s nose buried into her hair, and the fact that he nuzzled it while hovering over her skin was not helping the flustering state her body was in right now. Each contour of his frontal pressing and scratching her back in such an intimate ritual with each breathing he labored.

“…Pete?” she voiced quietly through whispers, a hand of her own hovering tentatively over his, ghosting their skins against one another to rouse him from sleep. He had acknowledged it a little, but it seemed like cuddling her was more appealing because he immediately fell back into the embrace of Morpheus.

Kate sighed a little. Yet found herself enjoying the irrational heat emanating from his body that was battling against the cold air of December. It would be a lie to say that she does not find Peter Parker attractive.

Constantly throwing himself in danger for others.

Quick-witted in sarcastic remarks and quips.

He always has that aura of maturity around him; grew up the way he did and also suffered through unimaginable torment at such a young age had forged him to be the man he is, and she finds that man quite intriguing.

It might be that she has a soft spot for broken things, being one herself and unconsciously reaching out to a sense of familiar pain coiling inside people around her.

The man (as he often protested against being called a kid by almost everyone) has a knack for leadership and morale; that’s one of the reasons why Nick Fury instated him as the leader of New Avengers.

The fact that he saw himself as unworthy has led to the resignation of Spider-Man from The Avengers Organization altogether.

“Pete? Wake up.” She tries again, this time with a firmer grip on his wrist and squeezing it. He seems to register the applied force and hums against her hair as a form of response. “Wake up, Peter.” She calls again with a slightly louder voice, and the reaction is immediate as Peter quickly gains consciousness.

“Um…I don’t know how we ended up like this, scouts honor.”

“We were tired, and this is better than sitting.” She offered, which he agreed with via a hum.

When she did not attempt to break his hold, Peter cleared his throat before saying “…Kate?” her name rasped out of his mouth at such proximity sent shivers down her spine. Kate took a reluctant hand that had been hovering above her sternum and guided it down to her abdomen, pressing his onto the fabric ghosting the soft flesh beneath and relishing in the warmth his palm provided. She turned to face him with hooded eyes and lips pressed into a thin line.

Knowing he’s the Spider-Man gives her a sense of safety, he can protect her as he’d proven so times and times again in the past few months that they’d been running vigilante ops together (skillfully without Maria Hill ever calling her out for it). Cocooning inside the cage of his arms didn’t magically dissipate the horrifying memories done by a faceless shadow, but they’ve become more tolerable just by a little bit.

Kate buried her grimace in the crook of his neck, feeling thankful for his silence regarding specks of tears manifested from her eyes, recalling that night in the park where she felt so alone, helpless, and made into a broken husk of the one who once was the cheerily and naïve Katherine Bishop. Peter had never asked questions whenever someone needed his help, and now she is doing so with her hold on his body and a plea to let her cry.

He’ll always be there when she needs him to be, she knows--

“Gah!” Kate jolted awake when a torrent of cold water clashed with her body, noticing some ice in the mix. “The hell?” she called out to whoever did that; her best guess was the doctor himself. Depriving her of a good memory might be his new form of torment.

“Was it too cold? I didn’t check the temp before swashing you with a bucket.” Kate remembers that sultry lilt and irritating tone of voice, despite the short span of ‘pleasantry’ exchanged inside the warehouse. Black Cat’s footsteps are almost unnoticeable if not for the squishing sounds her boots made with the puddle on the floor.

“It was perfect, Cat,” Kate retorted with venom in her voice, struggling futilely still against the restraints. “Would’ve been better if I could give you a hug for your considerate cold shower.” She heard a chuckle and a sigh afterward, as the thief got closer.

“You alright?” the tone shifted to sincere and light touches tracing the wounds and bruises that Doc Ock, a name she took from one of the villains in Peter’s retelling, left after a long session of five-star treatment.

“Like you’d care about that.” Kate almost spitted them out if not for how weak she’s feeling right about now.

“Katie, dear,” the nickname left some itches “I’m not such a heartless bitch who enjoys torture.”

“Good to know! Although your kicks kinda broke my ribs.”

“You could’ve dissipated the impact better, but that’s not the topic we should be discussing right now,” Black Cat said as sirens blared abruptly “Peter will be here soon, but it will take time before he can get you out with all these contraptions.” Then the sounds of sprung claws ring between them.

“So, you’re gonna kill me?” Kate asked, keeping a brave façade although her mind was racing for any way to save herself.

“Who do you take me for?” the Black Cat swipes all of the malleable materials that can’t withstand the Vibranium blades off of her body “Take these; they are stims that sadist synthesized, should give you some strength until your ex-boyfriend can get you to a hospital.” A couple of pills have been shoved into her bloody palm.

“Why should I trust you? And why did you help me?” Kate protested, contemplating whether or not to follow the Thief’s suggestion.

“A cat does what she wants,” Black Cat reasoned and took the pills to her cracked lips “Take them, I promise that they are not dangerous.” With no other choices present, Kate obliged reluctantly and down them in a gulp without water. “Good.” Then she was being hauled onto the Cat’s shoulder with one of her broken arms, eliciting a wince of pain “Sorry,” Black Cat apologizes. Her back was then pressed against a wall, or at least what felt like a wall, and Black Cat released her supporting hold.

“I can’t find any braces to help you with them, but Spidey could think of something,” her voice retreats further away.

“Cat,” Kate called out when she heard a grating open above her head and got a hum as an acknowledgment “Thanks.” She managed to coerce a grateful smile out to where she thought that her unexpected savior should be.

As the commotion draws near, she can make out the sounds of fists and boots hitting flesh, bodies flung into walls or onto ceilings. Shouts and taunts flew around but not a single quip could be heard from the one who raided their lair. A sign that a certain Spider is in a very bad mood.

She had encountered such an occasion once or twice in the months of intimate connection they shared; when he was a little too late to prevent severe injuries or a death. Kate still remembers the brutality and ruthlessness he’s unleashed upon those unfortunate scumbags; broken bones, collapsed lungs, internal bleeding.

“Otto!” his roar cuts through the wall separating them, calling to the mad scientist with mechanical arms. Silence was the only company he got excluding moans and whimpers of the goons laid around him. “OTTO OCTAVIUS!” he continues with it, but the silence persists. “WHERE ARE YOU?!” another loud thud rings out, some heavy object has been pulled off its location and thrown at the door to her torture chamber.

“Spider-Man!” Kate tries to muster her voice to call for him, hoping that he can hear it through the rage he possesses right now. A moment later, he did, as the door suffered tremendously from his unrestrained punches, the hinges creaking wails like a banshee. “I’m in here.” As if her plea urged him to be more reckless, Kate hears Peter jogging back away from the door to gain distance and momentum.

“Fuck!” he cursed with a hiss when he made it through with a running shoulder slam that blew the doors off their locations, sending them flying to the opposite wall with shelves of equipment and chemical vials. Kate couldn’t see it but could guess the expression he was making when he saw her slumped form.

“Spidey?” she calls with a sense of hope and nagging uncertainty, hands trying to reach forward despite the disability lovingly given to her by Otto Octavius’s sadistic tendency. He gathered her up effortlessly and apologized profusely when she hissed from all of the injuries she had sustained.

“You are alright now, Kate, I’m here.” She never forgot his voice even through the filtering layer of his mask. He holds her limp body against his, carrying her out of the building in a rush, and starts swinging away judging by the rushes of wind on her back. “What did he do to you?” his voice cracked after he explored her face, now aware of the bruises on her cheeks and widened but unfocused blue eyes he once lost himself in their swirling vortexes. He did makeshift arm braces for her dislocated elbows and decided to not irritate her already broken and exhausted body by resetting them himself.

“He… He wants to…. get… back at…” she whimpered out with ragged breathing, dizziness, and vertigo settling in when Black Cat’s medicines wore off.

“Sorry I asked, Kate,” he cooed with an apologetic tone “Save your strength, okay? I’ve got you now.” He presses a kiss on her temple, with the mask and all. “Edi?” he called for his suit AI, they appeared to have a short conversation before Peter exhaled with relief “Thanks, Edi.”

The remainder of the trip was spent in his determined silence and her occasional tired whimpers.

Two guards look at each other for a minute when she’s asking for a visit to Hawkeye and Spider-Man inside the isolated wing of the hospital. A couple of suits walk around and converse among themselves regarding the recently hospitalized Avenger. Peter emerged from the room and told them to let her in.

“Hey,” Gwen called into the room with two guards standing imposingly in the front, using a baseball cap and shades to hide her identity from the prying eyes of the press that gathered at the lobby of Metro-General. She even saw the unpleasant visage of J. Jonah Jameson in the mix. Peter stands like a sentinel at the foot of the patient’s bed, clutching his mask in his hands and sporting a scent of disinfectant all over himself.

“Thanks for coming.” He turned and greeted her with a sad smile, worry clouded his usual bright hazelnut orbs. Gwen quickly closed the gap between them and gathered him into a hug, a comforting one that often resulted in her head tucked under his chin.

“Of course, I’ll be here,” Gwen said with a reassuring smile planted in the sternum of his suit. “What did the doctors say?” she leaned off a bit to look into his hooded eyes, seeing wrinkles manifested by the grimace he was sporting.

“They’ve reset and cast her elbows.” He started with a seething anger she’d never seen on him before; it made her a bit scared. “She might need months of physical therapy, full recovery if we are lucky.” He sighed with a grimace. “The cuts were treated, and the bruises shouldn’t take more than a week to completely heal if Kate doesn’t skip her medicines.” He continues while taking her offered hand, rubbing a pattern with his thumb to console himself “Doctor Palmer said there’s still chances of infection, but it’s really low, so there’s that.”

“That’s good, right?” she chanced a question as she tried to cheer him up with some positivity in this, yet it failed as his legs gave and he slumped onto a visitor’s chair behind him, Gwen softly pats his messy curls as he pressed his head into her stomach. “Pete?” she called as his arms gathered her into an embrace.

“Octavius… he blinded her.” He said with ragged breathing.

“What?” Gwen let out a disbelief gasp at the revelation, shocked at the mere possibility of such a heinous crime, somehow conflicted at the candid photo she saw of the man that could’ve done such a thing to a fellow human.

“Some kind of…” He swallows the lump in his throat, trying to keep his posture with great difficulty “… engineered virus? Her optic nerves were degraded and…” he whimpered against the, trying to run solutions through his brain for the problem like always “… it was adaptive; capable of reprogramming itself to survive.” He sounded so defeated it wrenched her heart.

“Pete,” she whispered his name and kept carding her fingers through his brown locks, remembering the soothing sensation it brought when her mother did it to her when she was young. “I’m so sorry,” he hugged her tighter, almost crushing the air out of her lungs, and they stayed like that for a while.

“How are you holding up?” a new voice came in, and striding from the door towards the bed was none other than Colonel James Rhodes, a liaison for the Avengers within The Pentagon and representative within the UN. He wears a tight-lipped smile on his tired face as he takes a seat at Kate’s bedside. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Stacy,” the retired Avenger greeted her when Peter still not responding to his question.

She almost blurted out how he got her name but thought against it as he is a government officer after all. “Likewise, Colonel.”

“Spidey, how are you holding up right now? I know you and Kate were close.”

“How I am doing is not important right now, Rhodey,” Peter replied with a lump of guilt in his throat “I need full access to the Compound’s biology lab,” he raised his head with reddened eyes and a determined look on his face “I have to… I need to…”

“I understand your request, Spider-Man,” had been told the effect of the Oblivion Curse by Peter was one thing, but experiencing it personally is quite jarring. She could tell some deeper and damaged memory of Peter’s name was there inside the Colonel’s mind, but he couldn’t recall it “But there are procedures and processes to this if I’m to reinstate you as an Avenger—”

“I didn’t want to be an Avenger, just access to the lab so I can save her!” he said with such an irritated tone that Gwen had to squeeze his shoulder to ground him. “I know I can do something!”

“Even so, you are still a vigilante that operates outside of Avengers supervision; having you using resources and properties of our facility will not go unnoticed by international governments. That stuff can be overruled only when there are at least CAT-5 threats; you know this as well as I do, son.” The Veteran massaged the bridge of his nose with an exhale, leaning back with a sigh. “It would have been easier to pull some strings if Keener hadn’t erased you from our systems months ago.”

The explanation only managed to deepen Peter’s frustration and anger; his fists clenched so hard she thought the fabric would be torn.

“So, unless another Thanos decides to invade us, or some alien parasite taking over New York; you need to be reinstated as an Avenger to gain access, and that thing takes months of paperwork and assessments.” Rhodey shrugged with an apologetic expression “I can’t do much gymnastics to make this happen, son, I’m sorry.”

“What about Doctor Cho? She worked with the Avengers before, right?” Gwen inquired with a hopeful smile, her hand soothingly smoothing Peter’s back.

“Captain Marvel took her to some scheduled expedition days ago. As far as I can tell they aren’t scheduled to be back by another month.”

“Keep your cool, Peter,” Gwen spoke after the steel frame of his seat crumbled under his grasp. “What can we do about Kate’s condition, then?”

“She should be here with doctors for another week or so, I will station some securities 24/7 in case this Otto Octavius paid a visit,” Colonel Rhodes then sent some kind of signal and another visitor walked in; a blonde, medium-height woman in mid-twenties dressed in black-and-white jacket with a yellow-tinted shades on her nose “This is Barbara Morse; Hill assigned her as Bishop’s physician as well as assisting biologist to help Christine Palmer study the virus.” The newcomer greeted them with a polite smile and a little nod of her head.

“Call me Bobbi,” the agent said, shaking Gwen’s offered hand firmly and briefly, then waiting for Peter’s but it never came. “I will take care of Miss Bishop, don’t worry.” She retracted it after it was certain that Spider-Man was not in the mood to exchange pleasantries.

“Go home, get some rest. Your brain is in a jumble right now.” Rhodes offered an olive branch “When Kate’s awake, I will call you.”

“Pete, get down, please.” Gwen pleaded after her boyfriend had been pacing on the ceiling of her apartment for half an hour now since he took a shower.

“There has to be some way to reverse it,” he sighed in frustration after landing softly on the carpet, lying on his back while his body protests for a sleep he had deprived it himself for about fifteen hours now. “Edith can program the nanites to do some cellular restoration in theory, but they are still too big individually to inject into the bloodstream or perform delicate nano-surgery.” He starts to entangle his hair with his fingers and groans.

Gwen sits down places his head on her lap and starts giving him a massage to ease some of the tension and hopefully to lull him to sleep, which will give his brain a chance to refresh.

“Viruses and pathogens are tricky, Pete, there’s no guarantee that they won’t just degrade those repaired nerves again if we don’t take them out of the picture.” She applied some pressure on top of his eyelids, relieved that he seemed to relax a bit “And this one is engineered; CRISPR technology is still tightly understood by very few in the scientific community, and fewer still can successfully synthesize them.” Gwen let him guide one of her hands down to his sternum and rest it there, against the thumping of his heart.

“I have to do some digging about the Otto Octavius of our reality; some projects or ongoing research might shed light on a solution.” He deduced and made for a rise when her hands kept him grounded on her lap with the sharpness of her glare.

“Later, okay?” She demanded “Your brain needs some rest. You know basic biology, dude, don’t fight it.” Gwen only relented after a nod of affirmation from him, and let Peter put the full weight of his head down on her legs.

When he finally fell into a slumber, Gwen replaced her legs with a bundle of sweaters as his pillow and made for the laptop. Opening it up she was greeted by Edith’s rendered face “Edith, can you bring up everything on Doctor Otto Octavius? Keywords; virus, genetic engineering, and CRISPR.”

“Give me a second, Gwen,” Edith announced, and a simulation of the library came up, with mini-Edith rushing through each shelf and rows of books.

“Good evening, Mister Fisk,” Felicia greeted her employer through her phone, focusing on painting her toenails with glossy black paint.

“What did you do?” Kingpin’s question was so direct that she knows he was a bit pissed off.

“I’m a busy woman, Uncle Willy, you have to be more specific than that.” She got a smirk on.

“What did you do at Martello’s hideout?”

“I got into a chat with Ramon at one. Had a drink with Fabio at another. Playing cards with Cecil and Alexis at the one in—”

“FELICIA!” he roared with thinned patience.

“Ugh! I don’t know what you mean, boss!” she faked a frustrated voice; acting classes have some merits.

“The one Hawkeye was at! What did you do?!” his question was delivered with seething anger, yet it did not phase her in the slightest.

“How should I know? I was out scouting Financial district the whole morning.” She replied with a smug “Accusation is not a complimenting decoration for you, Uncle Willy.”

“Don’t play coy with me, Felicia! Answer my question.”

“I don’t know! Alright?! I didn’t even interest enough in Hammerhead’s businesses to keep tabs on him, what makes you conclude that I have even the faintest idea of what you are accusing me of?” her tone of voice hardly matched her mood, as her deft fingers gracefully guiding the coated brush along the colorless area of her nails.

Wilson Fisk huffed a few times before he ended the call.

“Easier when he’s angry.” She whistled and admired her handiwork with satisfaction. Her eyes then honed on a twin of CSF vials that she nabbed from Metro-General.

“Cat,” she stopped her and returned her eyes to the slumped woman with a quirked brow “Thanks.” It took her by surprise; not that she never expected to hear one in her life, but for it to come from the polar opposite of herself in terms of profession.

“I deserve at least a pair of earrings for this, birdy.” Felicia waited for a while for her painted nails to dry, and got in her casual outfit; black turtleneck, white pants, and a pair of emerald-tinted shades.

It took about an hour to go through Manhattan’s traffic in a taxi just to reach Gwen Stacy’s apartment from hers, she had it scouted and marked since the exhibition at Oscorp. It's not like she wants to keep tabs on Peter Parker or anything.

A short ride in an old lift to the floor where the blonde scientist occupied was spent in silence and contemplating what to say. A short walk right after was enough to put on a smirk.

She raps her knuckles on the wooden surface firmly enough for anyone inside to hear, footsteps approaching and finally the door swung open by Gwen Stacy with prescription glasses and a bun of golden locks on top of her head. She was sporting a confused and surprised expression on her lovely face to boot.

“Um…” the blonde was too stunned to speak a coherent sentence, so Felicia took over for her sake.

“Is Peter here? Special delivery.” She delivered in that trademark sultry tone and presented a Ziploc bag containing two vials of spinal fluid.

After a brief debacle and some foreplay (mainly she was avoiding his grabbing hands and calming him down from his agitated state) Felicia managed to sit upon one of the dining chairs with the vials being inspected by the blonde and New York’s sentinel. With the former providing some ideas rather than the latter regarding this field of science.

“You can run tests if you want, but those are 100% Katherine Elizabeth Bishop’s Cerebrospinal fluid, contaminated with an unknown virus that blinded her,” Felicia said and sipped the chamomile tea from a lovely porcelain cup.

“How?” Peter was the one who voiced the question, and she answered with both hands indicating toward herself. “Of course,” he nodded to himself with a sigh.

“What’s your game, Felicity?” her alias brought a chuckle to her lips. Yet, keeping them in a sense of pseudo-advantage intrigues her, so she did not correct any of them on the name.

“A trade, if you will,” she started with her eyes alternating between the couple “I want free samples when you’ve finished the cure; that madman might cause an outbreak using this virus. I want to be prepared.”

“That’s it?” the blonde sporting a high brow; she was relieved to know the condition like this but couldn’t help to doubt the Thief.

“Why? Do you have something to offer? I’m kinda curious about a three—”

“Okay! That’s good! Yes!” Peter cut in with widened eyes “Deal! Miss Cat! I mean Black Harmon! Black Cat!” and quickly shook her hand to seal the deal. “Right, Gwen?”

“You are adorable,” the blonde cackles at her boyfriend’s reaction to Black Cat’s teasing. “As for you, Cat; We’ll give you a slip if Peter catches you in the future, but,” Gwen imitated what Peter had recently done, albeit more casually and with less frantic motion “If I ever heard a whiff about them circling the Black Market? You’ll be in a cuff, be sure about that.”

“Ooh, kinky! I like it.” Both women have the same kind of challenging eyes and smirks on their faces.

“Changing topics,” Peter announced like a video game’s NPC “What did you know about Doc Ock?”

“Interrogation already? My, you are impatient,” Felicia chuckles.

“I know, right?” Gwen joined forces with the teasing thief, leaving Peter in disbelief.

Being the gentleman that he was raised to be, Peter Parker offered to walk her down as he needed to be at RAC to run some urgent errand for Sue Storm.

Looking at him occasionally, Felicia noted the bags under his eyes and scar tissues on his neck and side of his head that were caused by blades. “Didn’t you have a healing factor? I remember that as one of your PR pieces.” The sudden question confused him a bit, but when she pointed her fingers at her neck, he let out a chuckle.

“A fan, huh?” He teased as he was holding the lift door for her “There are some… complications about wounds and scars when your body heals a lot faster than average. If they aren’t properly cleaned, bacteria can be trapped inside when the scabs form. Or that’s how my aunt used to lecture me about.” He presents a smile, but the haunting sadness can be seen if one dives deeper.

“I met your aunt once. May Parker, right?” he nods, urging her to continue with it “That woman talked me out of stealing some food from the shelter, can you imagine that?” she heard a small chuckle. “Asked me to volunteer there; turned her down, of course.” Felicia stretches a bit like a lazy cat “It’s exhausting to help people.”

“Exhausting? Then why did you help Kate? Wouldn’t it be too much of a chore? Or, maybe, there’s a good kitty in there somewhere?” he sported a playful smirk.

“I wholeheartedly resent your insinuation, Peter Parker,” she retorted with a look of disgust; not at the implication he’d made, but at how the Good Kitty comment of his pleases her.

“Keep telling yourself that, Felicity Harmon,” Peter said in triumph.

He touched the access card on a scanner at his side to open the locking mechanism to the engineering workshop, revealing a trio of individuals standing inside.

Dr. Susan Storm, his supervisor, was in her RAC lab gown with a safety goggle covering her eyes.

Julia Takeda, his senior engineer, was in her overall insulation suit and the first to notice his presence with a smile.

And Reed Richards, RAC’s founder and CEO, in a casual RAC shirt and a pair of loose pants.

“Look at that! You are on time!” Julia greeted him with a playful jab. She tosses a goggle at him, and he catches it from the air. “Put it on; Mister Richards did something dangerous again and we want to hear your take on it.”

“Jules…” Reed protests calmly from his spot, eyes never leaving the tablet in his hands. “I’ve done an immaculate work on calculations and calibrations. There’s just a little hiccup in energy spike an hour ago.” The last part was directed at the newcomer.

“I don’t doubt your mathematical prowess, but it is still dangerous to rush it like this.” She retorted with a roll of her eyes, “See for yourself, Pete. Tell me at least 3 things that our boss overlooked.” She passes her tablet to Peter, determined for her sort-of-apprentice to identify them as well as she did, and maybe hope for more. She is returning to try and find any more flaws through visual means.

“I hope you weren’t busy when I called earlier?” Susan sent him a soft and apologetic smile, in which Peter returned in kind.

“Don’t worry, Doc—” Sue clears her throat a little with a challenging glare “Sue.” He altered how she preferred to be called “We were just… having a little cat problem.” He internally smirks at that unspoken pun.

“Oh? You two are adopting?” a glint of excitement comes to her eyes.

“More like… a stray situation? She just randomly showed up and left. A very cat thing to do, you know?” he cleared it and focused on the rough schematic of what Reed Richards called ‘Radiation Converter’ “I thought Julia was an expert on radiation shielding, why did you call me here?” he asked without looking up.

“Second opinion? Ever heard of it?” Julia retorted with a sigh.

“Oh, yeah. Totally forgot about that.” He replied with a chuckle, albeit a more strained and tighter one than he usually delivered; most of them didn’t catch that slight change in his mood, but Susan was quite observant. “Looks like… the Gamma rad filters are about 0.5 millimeters thicker than it should’ve been, which could lead to overheating of nearby compartments and the filters themselves, the fumes and scattered particles might be a bit too flammable.” He proposed and Julia hums in approval of his observation.

“That’s one,” Julia smirked at Reed’s annoyed grunt; She’d already pointed out at least half a dozen apparent flaws in the hastily fabricated testing prototype.

“Ionizing chambers are too narrow. Judging from what you’d intend for this to be applied; the energy intensity of accelerated and charged particles could be too much for this current design. I might even say it could be bombastic.” He let out a goofy open-mouthed grin and a finger gun at Julia, who groaned in reply while Susan Storm let out a cackle.

“Aside from that lame pun,” Julia said, “that’s two, now, Mister Richards,”

“So far are all easy fixes, though,” the Smartest man (as dubbed by the public since 2026) defended his invention calmly “I know that, with an incredible engineer like you, I have nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, you should be worried,” Susan chimed in with a stern glare “If Jules didn’t stop you after that power spike, we might have to quarantine the whole floor because of radiation poisoning.” The Biochemist remarked with her arms crossed.

“That has merely a 5% chance of happening, Sue!” Reed protests a little.

“Still greater than our 1.5% to 3% hazard policy. If you, as the CEO who preached it, don’t even follow it then why should any of our team do so?”

“Um… should I continue the assessment?” Peter cleared his throat and asked, Julia and Reed nodded. “The outer shells of the containment chamber? I would’ve integrated more lead alloy plates as additional shielding to prevent genome alteration affecting the radiation that might pose for the astronauts, which might lead to unknown mutations by factors surrounding spacefaring expeditions. Because the estimated amount of energy output you’ve calculated will burn through the current design, Mister Richards.”

“Ahh, best hire ever.” Julia Takeda mused with a dreamy smile, returning her gaze towards Reed “See? Now can we shut off the power and start disassembling?”

“You’re leaving already?” Susan asked in confusion when Peter finished his phone call and made his way to the airlock. She put down a Geiger meter on the table and absentmindedly followed the younger genius. Julia, though, sporting a smirk on her lips, while Reed is oblivious as always.

“My… friend,” he doesn’t know why the hesitation is there “got an accident earlier. She’s awake now, I have to see if she’s okay.” He informed the stunning blonde, curiously noting the intimate proximity Susan Storm seemed to initiate herself.

“Want a ride?” she inquired with an uncertain smile; part hoping he would take the offer, and part reprimanding herself for acting like this with someone who’s already in a relationship. Also, a subordinate to boot. She couldn’t put a finger on when or why this unfortunate pining had started, maybe it was because he’d always listened? Or maybe because I can have engaging and fun conversations with him unlike most?

Her little brother Johnny would be livid if he found out.

“I guess?” the younger man sent a half-grin at her, and Susan might have been too joyous in her expression of relief.

“Wait for me at the front, then. I’ll get my car around!” she excitedly exclaimed, which elicited a guffaw from Julia at the sight.

He was a wreck when he realized securities put in by Col. Rhodes might have been difficult to explain to Doctor Storm, but delighted when they were discreet and blending in as former SHIELD should be. Even Bobbi, as she insisted, looks like a part of the Metro-General staff.

“Good evening, Doctor Morse!” Peter happily greeted the agent; at least he thought she belonged to one of the clandestine branches of the Avengers from observation.

“Oh, hi, Mister Parker!” Bobbi returned the gesture, and then her eyes shifted onto the stunning blonde beside him “And you are?”

“Doctor Susan Storm,” the name brought a surprise and excitement to the American blonde “I am Peter’s supervisor and friend.” She finished with a smile.

“It’s my pleasure to meet you, Doctor Storm!” Bobbi exclaimed with a smile “Your work on solvent-48 was a marvel!” with a smile, Bobbi offered her hand, and the British blonde took it firmly.

“Thank you, Doctor Morse.” Susan sent a practiced smile, still keeping the air of elegance around herself as she had been taught since a young age; the Storm household was one of the old families since the colonial age, after all. “How is this friend of his?”

“Miss Tabitha?” Bobbi discreetly looked at the masked vigilante behind the stunning Biochemist and got his plea for secrecy. “She’d regain consciousness about an hour prior. Injuries seem to be well-conditioned, and no further infection has occurred.” She skimmed through the mandatory report that Doctor Palmer had given to her.

“That’s good to hear, right?” Susan looked back at Peter walking to take a spot beside her.

“Very,” he faked a joyous grin and started making his way to the room where Kate was stationed. “Thank you again, Doctor Morse.” He shoots her a sincere smile, which she returns.

A beep sound announced itself from Susan’s pocket, she fished it out smoothly and presents a sigh “I should go back to the lab; Jules might need some directions for the shielding plates,” Susan announced as they reached the room that has a suspiciously looking duo that acted as if they were not guarding someone inside. “Will you be fine on your own?” She was implying to him about the traversal aspect, of course.

“Don’t worry, Sue. I can hitch a ride with Martin here,” he replied with a friendly nudge of his elbow to one of the not-guards “We go waaay back, right buddy?” he offered the taller man a fist to bump; sadly, the undercover agent did not comply.

“See you tomorrow, Peter,” Susan gave him a sympathetic smile at his playful pouting and wrapped him in an embrace that was borderline on her hopeful intimacy. After her elegant figure disappears around the end of the hallway, Martin clears his throat to gain Peter’s attention.

“Don’t ever do that again; we are secret agents for a reason.” The tall European chided him with a monotonous voice and stilled face, opening the door for the younger man sporting a sheepish grin.

“Mister Keener is already here,” the other one announced just before he was going to take a step.

“Thanks, Crows,” he shot the buff Asian with a grateful smile and continued his way into the confined chamber.

His eyes searched the room thoroughly out of persistent caution. Then they fall upon a standing figure at the bedside on the right facing the entrance, whispering to the brunette archer without lifting his eyes to the door.

Another surprising figure inside is Yelena Belova; the Russian blonde situated herself on a couch with a plate of fruits in her hands, stuffing her face with the various mix of berries. Ever vigilant, her eyes track the newcomer from the door towards the bed, facing the Tennessee Engineer with an air of discomfort.

“Your favorite bug is here, Kate Bishop,” the Black Widow announced with a teasing tone and a smirk, continuing her intake of vitamins casually as always.

“As a fellow arachnid I resent your intentional mistake, Yelena,” Peter jabs with a tired smile.

“Укуси меня (bite me),” the blonde retorted with a challenging tone. He ignores it and quickly stationed himself at the vacant spot opposite Harley.

“I’ll get something to drink,” Harley told the patient with a reassuring tone, glanced up at his former best friend for a split second, and signaled for Yelena to follow him. She protests a little but eventually follows him out of the room.

“Trouble in paradise?” Kate joked weakly at him, coughing a bit, and let out a groan at how the sudden jolt of her body irritated the aches she had all over.

“How’re you doing?” Peter foregoes the pleasantry of engaging in a quip with her and softly places his palm on top of her bruised knuckles, brushing lightly in a familiar pattern that was privy to them. The dark-haired woman sighed in exhaustion, trying to flip her hand under his but found it too difficult due to the damage in her wrists.

“I’ve had worse,” she tried a smile, but the cracks on her lips dictated a grimace instead. Trying in vain to take in the sight of him as if forgotten the reality of things done to her by the mad doctor. A sore in her throat brings up a coughing fit.

“Kate,” he halted her cough with an offer of water, lukewarm and infused with a bit of special tea Yelena always got on her person wherever she goes, somehow. She took it with laboring effort, but the sensation and warmth eased her mind and numb some pain. “Don’t take the joking job from me, okay?” he smiled sadly at her unfocused and widened eyes, a lump gathered in his throat at the darting of her dull sapphires. “What do you remember?”

Kate sighed deeply, relishing in the fleeting comfort brought by the tea, noting the tightness of his fingers coiling the back of her hand “I… found some things?” the slur was not from the anesthetic, but more like she couldn’t quite recall as perfectly as she wants.

“You can’t remember?” a concern laced within his whispering of the question, horrid possibilities running through his mind like a pack of roadrunners. “You found some things…” he led on for her to cling to it.

“I… did?” Confusion clouded her face, brows furrowed in concentration “I can’t really remember, though…” a grunt formed inside her throat as the stitches on her thigh shifted. “Ugh! I can’t remember!” she is frustrated now; she did remember the moment on the roof, eating pizza, and firing her arrow, but anything else has been shrouded in oblivion.

“It’s possible the virus did more than just degrade her optic nerves,” Bobbi Morse said from the entry, without a lab coat and AVG tablet in her hands “Doctor Octopus might have been more ingenious than we’d thought.” She approached the Spider, handed him the tablet, and guided him through the recently examined details by Christine Palmer and herself. “See these? The darkened areas are affected by a formula resembling GR-25; suspected to be one of Oscorp’s illegal experiments,” she explained with uncertainty; she hates the feeling she is having right now, always having to do with cases tied with HYDRA.

“Oscorp’s illegal experiments?” the younger man inquired with incredulous expression; she understood because of Gwen Stacy’s current affiliation with the organization.

“Ongoing investigation, really. Nothing solid to make a case against them at the moment.” She swipes to another tab for him “Back on topic.” She urged and he complied “Doctor Octopus was one of HYDRA’s notorious agents; agent Barton was assigned to his case back in 2002, and he was reported dead in late 2003,” she informed him following the allowance set prior by Colonel Rhodes regarding Spider-Man’s involvement in this mess.

“He’s one of the smartest members, or ex-members, of the Avengers. Let him in as much as you see fit, Mockingbird.” Were the Colonel’s words of advice he gave her before he would return to fend off another meddling from Thaddeus Ross in the Council.

“He dwelled in genetic engineering for most of his active years; attempts to create chimeras, human-animal hybrids, bio-mechanical organisms. The man’s deranged.” She knows a bit more than she relayed to the vigilante, but not the whole picture as someone like Nick Fury or Maria Hill does.

Peter takes in the information and analyzes them thoroughly, attentively, and alternates his brain power to inspect Kate’s weakened but healing form.

“So… assuming that this is the same person, he’s doing this because she is Hawkeye?”

“It’s possible, yes,” Bobbi answered him truthfully.

For a whole minute, he kept his mouth shut but his brain was free to wreak havoc inside the cage of his skull and produce multitudes of emotions within. Anger. Frustration. Disdain.

Vengeance.

“Sick fucker…” he seethed with a cold and dangerous tone that plays contrasted with his innocent façade, muscles tightening and bulging underneath the intensity of wrath. Even Bobbi Morse falters a little at the flash of bloodlust.

“Mister Parker, the virus? Shall we continue with it, or do you want to take a minute alone?” Bobbi kept her professionality. The young man took a set of deep breaths, calming his uncharacteristic rage.

“Go ahead, Doctor Morse,” he offered with a tight smile that didn’t reach the eyes, felt the smallest of tugs from where his hand joined with Kate’s.

“We, as in Doctor Palmer, have found an injection site at the back of Miss Bishop’s neck; specifically at the gap between C7 and T1, to be the administration point of the virus. They were programmed to target optic nerves and degrade them while maintaining presence with controlled mitosis.” Another swipe to show a simulation of the virus with various pointers containing details of each region “The smaller window shows the documented GR-25 cell, see the differences?” he nods “Clearly a modified version of it, many negative traits have been removed.”

“Don’t you think it’s weird that the simulation is kinda wacky?” Harley’s voice reached them, gaining their attention towards his walking figure with his holo-phone in hand that showed the same content as the tablet. “It’s as if the equipment is underqualified for microscopic imagining.” He sports a smirk on his lips, almost identical to Tony’s in a way that makes Peter recall the late mentor.

“What were you suggesting, Mister Keener?” Bobbi asked with high brows.

“This is not an entirely organic virus.” He then introduces the new simulation to the tablet “I have KAREN downloaded the scans from the hospital’s database and calculated the closest resemblance of it; it’s a bio-mechanic nanomachine.”

“I will run the analysis on my flight back, KAREN should have more information when we landed.” Harley directed his words to Kate, who got his and Peter’s hands atop each of hers “What about you, Parker?” he averted to the vigilante across their friend.

“I got locked out, remember?” he cracked a sarcastic tone with biting venom “I’ll have to make do with what I have; deciphering the codes from multiple computers all at once, Edi might be able to have a prediction pattern in about… a week?”

“Stop with your dick-size competition!” Yelena crowed from the couch with a disgusted expression “Unless you two start working together to help, I might have to teach Braille to Kate Bishop myself!”

“You will be a great teacher, Lena!” Kate’s quiet tease reached her ears, and Yelena chuckled in response.

“Seeing you like this did diminish my self-esteem, Kate Bishop; It’s as if my lessons never landed.” The blonde jabs.

“Ouch!” Kate responds.

“Shut it and get some rest, идиот (idiot)!” Yelena chided her, then shifted her attention toward the brooding men surrounding her little hawk “Stop acting like a hurting boy, both of you! This stupidity between you and you had been there longer than it should!” Yelena then throws balled-up gum wraps at both of them, aiming for their heads. Peter did catch it with his supernatural sense and Harley almost lost it in the last second, displaying the improvement since the last sparring session she had with him. “You, admit that you’ve been a selfish crybaby who ran away from responsibilities.” She pointed at Peter. He made to protest out of instinct, then he stopped with a shameful look. “And you, admit that you’ve been an unfair придурок (moron) who refused to see the core of the problem!”

“I won’t be consoling you like a soft nanny; I wasn’t raised like that!” she continued when both of them kept their mouths shut “Peter ran away because he couldn’t see himself as a worthy successor to Stark, which no one expected him to be! Despite the preaching about communication that you rained down upon all of us back in the days, you couldn’t even do that yourself!” she lectured the vigilante with furrowed brows.

“Harley, you saw only the effect that was on you, but you didn’t listen or look to others who have been as well. The adults around you understood the things you should have been able to realize by yourself more than anyone; you two were the best of friends!” the Tennessee genius hangs his head low, averting his eyes from the scolding blonde.

“Yelena…” Kate voiced from her position with a soft tone, almost inaudible by the quietness of it.

“You as well, Katherine Elizabeth Bishop!” the use of her full name brings the dread along with it “How many times has Clint Barton, or Me, told you about the basics of reconnaissance? You’ve always been like a stubborn kid who thinks she can do whatever she wants! Luckily, this captor decided to torture you and not outright kill you! Always have a partner or two, Kate Bishop, always!” almost like an angry and worried mom.

“But you do it all the time!” Kate protested; even with her parents, she has never conformed without a fight. Yelena, though, is more vicious than Eleanor.

“Because I was trained to do so! You were trained to be a team player, Kate Bishop! You’d even pathetically lose to a cat burglar!” Yelena roared and quickly pointed her finger at the silhouette of the platinum-haired aforementioned thief looking at them through the glass window.

“To be fair, дама (lady), it was an ambush.” Black Cat announced with her sultry tone and almost perfect Russian, casually standing in front of the two baffled men and a squinting blonde. “She fought well, for a beginner,” the Thief sporting a mocking in both her phrasing and eyes that looked at Kate’s confused face.

“Hey!” the blind archer protested.

“Gave me more of a challenge than you did, cutie,” directed at the stunned Spider.

“Who’s this?” Harley inquired after he regained his composure, quickly deploying a portable repulsor on his right hand, aiming at the newcomer.

“Black Cat; a pleasure to meet you, Mister Keener.” The Cat shot a playful wink at the Tennessee man. “Put that bad boy away, sweetheart, or You and the Avengers will be in the headlines under an hour.” Agreeing with the threat, Harley disengages the nanomachine back into a watch.

“What are you doing here, Cat?” Peter asked her and moved a bit to shield Kate with his body, eliciting an amused chuckle from the Thief.

“Paying a visit to my dear debtor, darling.” Black Cat crooned out sweetly “How’s it going?” the question flew over them towards the bedridden woman.

“Wonderful, Cat!” Kate mused, and Peter got his eyebrow in an arch.

“Ah. So, you do have a heart.” He teased and the Cat guffawed.

“I’ve got plenty to give, handsome,”

“Would both of you mind flirting outside?” Kate chimed in with how ridiculous this evening has turned. Black Cat giggled at the archer.

“Jealous much?” Felicia got a playful smirk on her lips and wiggled her brows at the blind woman; not even caring that the target of her teasing couldn’t see it.

“State your business, kitten,” Yelena got a Walther PPK .22LR in her hands, trained on the center of mass of the costumed thief who bested her student in a fight. “I am not an Avenger, your threat does not apply to me, кат (cat).”

“Gorgeous little thing you’ve got there,” Black Cat didn’t even flinch; fully confident in the indestructible suit she wears. “But my request is specifically for our dear Spider,” the Thief turns to the confused brunet “Consider this as a payback for my gifts, Parker.”

“I thought we already had a deal?”

“That was between your little girlfriend and me,” The Cat approaches him with her sultry stroll “This is for us.” She places her index finger on the crater of his collarbone, slowly dragging it down a bit along the ridge between his pectorals.

“Awfully familiar with this one, huh?” Yelena chirped, still training her pistol on the Cat.

“You could say that.” Black Cat cooed as a reply to Black Widow.

“You really couldn’t, Yelena,” Peter protested with a nervous grin.

“I’ve always known you as a horndog, Peter Parker; thinking back to all the times I’ve caught Kate Bishop and you—”

“Let’s talk outside, yeah?!” He quickly gathered Black Cat in his arms and shot themselves out the window.

“I want a ticket for the inevitable catfight; it will be a spectacle,” Yelena teased Kate; who got a huff and a pout on her face.

“I have a plane to catch,” Harley managed a short cackle to the recent encounter “I’ll call, okay?” he directed the farewell to Kate.

“See ya, Tennessee,” she returned it. Harley quickly made his way out of the room.

“Didn’t even offer me a ride,” Yelena chided the empty air with a disapproving look.

“You’ve always rejected them,” The purple-loving dork pointed out.

“Isn’t it still considered as a gentleman thing to do?”

“I wouldn’t know, Lena,” Kate retorted.

“I will take the Pizza Pooch back to Nat’s cabin for a while; you focus on recovering.” Her tone bargained no alternatives, and Kate could only agree with the proposition. The Russian assassin silently took a spot beside the injured archer and planted a soft kiss on the younger woman’s temple. “Sleep tight, маленькая кукла (little doll),” her whispers brought a sense of calm to Kate; Yelena rarely shows her loving side to anyone.

“Спасибо (Thank you).” The archer replied, slumber slowly reclaiming its place.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

'BREWING TEMPEST'

The view is always nice.

Manhattan night was always a sight to behold despite the grim reality of human society down below where even the City That Never Sleep could not shine its eternal light.

He glances at Black Cat sitting on a crouch at his side, a gleam of rejection persists on her alluring visage.

He dared not to ask the reason why she had been so adamant about physical touch from his arms circled her waist as he hoisted them up to the roof of Metro-General hospital moments ago; it is as if a red-hot knife was plunged into her diaphragm, sending her mind into a panic while clawing his shoulders with frantic looks in her yes.

He saw it before, with Kate.

So, he let her stay where she was, taking in the chilly air and symphony of the night.

“… sorry about your shoulders.” She mused quietly, more to the air separating them than to him personally, but he just hummed in acknowledgment.

“It’s fine, Cat, don’t worry about it.” He offered an olive branch, hoping she would take it. “So… what were you about to ask?” he descends himself over the ledge, sticking to the side of the building with a Spidey mask on his face.

Felicia kept quiet for a moment longer, contemplating her idea before this nightly visit she’d paid to the blind archer down several floors. Looking over at the odd position the thematic hero/vigilante situated himself in and noting a sense of understanding emitted from him. A ghost of a smile, a sincere one, nudged her dark lips.

“You are too willing to help a criminal, you ever realized that?” she said with a tinge of returning familiarity of the playful and seductive façade. He chuckled at that with a shake of his webbed head.

“I figured it would be easier to tag along and keep you guessing which moment I will turn on you, you know?” Peter teased, reloading his cartridges into the recently deployed web shooters on his wrists. His new red and blue suit has claw marks on both shoulders, but he doesn’t seem to mind them much. “Besides, I think everyone needs help, from time to time,”

“But not you, right?”

“Huh, at first, yeah.” He reminiscences the early years of his vigilantism, too many injuries he’d sustained, many close calls he got from going against the more ruthless villains “I thought I could do it all, you know? Being Spider-Man while keeping my grades up; I almost got an F in one of my favorite subjects!” he chuckled fondly to the memory of panic that effectively changed how Spider-Man managing times as a vigilante “May was livid when she found my hidden reports.” A ghost of a saddened smile manifested, hidden underneath a layer of polycarbonate shielding and red carbon-fiber threads. The segmented shutters of his lens narrowed the whites into thin lines.

“Guess even a genius like you failed like the rest of us.” Felicia chimed in; the uncalled-for panic attack had mostly dissipated already.

“I’m not it, though,” he protested with a smile, recalling the rosters of his high school peers “There’s this one, Amadeus, I think? He’s way smarter than me, graduated earlier than others by two years.” Recalling the unclear face of a quiet Korean.

“You guys were friends?” she took some time to hang out with him; a pair of old souls thrust back into a world that had already forgotten them for five years. Sitting with her legs dangling over the roof's edge near him, she quietly studied the symbol of hope many saw him as, even recalling the group of kids donning the replica of his masks to help others like him, however small or mundane the tasks are.

“Not really,” he mused, still keeping his eyes on the sea of lights and speeding cars ahead of them “He rarely talks, kept to himself, and gone before anyone could know him.”

Peter turned his head to her, surprised to see the unfamiliar softness on her face and clouded emerald orbs adorning the sculptured face of eastern European mixed with a bit of Frank; at least that’s how Edith described to him after facial analysis he’d tasked the AI with. He thought the platinum palette of her hair was too distinct for someone thriving in being a thief, though. Maybe it was a brand thing like Kate always said.

“What about you? What’s your story?” he asked without much thought, finding that he was genuinely curious about the elusive woman.

“What? Is this a rooftop date or something?” she jeered with a smirk, inspecting the wide lenses of his that seemed to convey his intention and letting the time pass for a moment.

“You know a lot about me; I’d say that you are the only one from back then who remembers who I am,” he offered a smile, one that tugged at the long-lost heartstring. Felicia averted her eyes quickly before any suppressed vulnerability could resurface after years of putting up walls. “No one else does anymore…” he sighed.

Those closest to him are the ones who were cursed to keep forgetting the name of Peter Parker like a stain of filth their minds insist upon complete eradication. He almost gave up on establishing a common ground with the Thief when his ears picked up a clearing of her throat.

“I grew up in Paris,” the ‘s’ was silenced, a giveaway of how much of a Parisian she was “Typical family, mama, and dad.” A sweet smile tugged on her lips that almost erased the usual suave air she held around herself “Mama was always busy, rarely showing her face at our home,” she recalls the countable times the curly silver hair associated with her mother existed in her memories, mostly in the first three years of her childhood. “Dad became a single parent when I turned five after Mama disappeared.” She doesn’t know the agent that enacted this telling out of her for him, but somehow sharing things that very few have the privilege to with the Spider seems right.

“Oh…” he commented quietly, keep listening attentively.

The silence that followed indicates the end of the retelling from her end. Sharing beyond that was uncalled for, in her mind, as he had no right to be privy on anything further than she wanted him to; not the darkest day in her life, not the months and years of nightmares that followed, and certainly not on how hard she’d work on putting the crumbled pieces back together using her blood and tears as glue.

Peter obliges without protest.

“But I didn’t come here to trade sob stories,” she starts after a moment of contemplating silence on her part, and anticipation of uncertainty on his “There’s something I need help with,”

“Obviously,” he shrugged with narrowed lenses.

“Have you ever been to the Symkarian embassy?”

“This is too small for an embassy,” Peter commented, while he and Black Cat walked with her hand resting firmly in the crook of his elbow. A charade she’d proposed for them; of a couple taking a late-night tour inside the cultural and art center.

“Embarrassingly so,” Felicia agreed with him, eyes scanning the vicinity for securities and eyewitnesses “Symkaria has been invaded and assimilated into Latveria after the Snap; most of the figureheads in Symkarian court got dusted, and the remnants of the royal family got captured in a civil war.” She quickly relayed the information to him, keeping her destination in mind as she discreetly guided him along the path.

Portraits adorned the long wall at their left side, depicting hand-drawn ones of monarchs bearing the crest with an iron griffon.

“The kings and queens of Latveria since 1885,” Felicia explained while his eyes skimmed through each with passing glances.

“There are too many in 142 years.” Peter chimed in, insinuating how ridiculous it is that some dates indicated a reign over the bloody throne for a month or so.

“Constant conflicts; Latverian have a motto that says ‘Megtartod, amit megöltél’,” Felicia delivered it in such a smooth tone and a flexible tongue and a glint of a smile on her face “or ‘You keep what You killed’, grim, sure, but simple.”

“Hardcore, I like it.” He mused with a lopsided grin. “You know a lot about Latveria,” Peter commented on it and managed to elicit a look of embarrassment from the platinum-haired woman; only briefly, but it’s there.

“Oh, I’m just… taking some interest in it,” she tried to shrug it off, but a grin manifested on his face nonetheless; dreading a tease making its way from deep within, Felicia raised her index finger as a warning.

“A history nerd, you say?” an air of playfulness came back around him, not fully but it was still present. He let out a chuckle at her pouting, evaded a jab of her finger at the side of his head, and looked further into the direction he was being guided to “Where are we going?”

“The archive,” Felicia answered.

“We won’t be stealing anything,” he cut in with a serious look on his face, squinting his eyes at her.

“We won’t,” she complied but a playful smirk plastered her lips.

“How’s it going, Karen?” Harley voiced out his question through an earphone he got on, directly linked to the satellite system of the AI.

“Analysis is 45% done, boss. I can draft a structural model for you if you like?” her robotic voice rings in his ears, derived from any tinge of personality.

“Bring it up.” He commanded and put on a pair of glasses integrated with AR tech “Status updates?” with hand signs, he inspected the model thoroughly for any weaknesses to exploit.

“Colonel Rhodes already made calls to Clint Barton this morning. Miss Potts had covered all expenses with Metro-General. And Miss Belova had been reported for entry at the Compound 30 minutes ago, leaving with Miss Bishop’s dog.”

“Keep me updated, okay?”

“Certainly, boss,” KAREN obliged. “Should I keep my eyes on Spider-Man?”

Harley pauses for a heartbeat, then shakes his head “I don’t care.”

After a long ten minutes of concentrated silence on his part, he taps the calling button and quickly navigates to Yelena’s number.

“I’m driving, Harley, you’re on a speaker right now,” the blonde Russian answered casually, her focus on the road ahead.

“Do you still have contacts inside the CIA? I need information.”

“About what?”

“Project CHYMRA, by Doctor Otto Octavius.” He answered without his eyes ever leaving the distinct genetic signature KAREN had found.

“The сволочь (bastard) who blinded my little hawk?” Yelena voiced her confusion, at the why of this particular project rather than why not about the madman himself.

“Yep. I think Karen found something that might help, but I need more existing information or I’ll have to run a full diagnostic; which could take about a month with this kind of sophisticated invention.” He reasoned and was relieved at a hum from her end.

“I will call some of them, but you should run the diagnostic anyway, just in case,” Yelena said.

“Will do. Thanks, Yelena.” The Black Widow quickly ends the call and Harley continues his examination of one of the most fascinating engineering feats in the form of virus and machine hybrid.

“Got it!” Peter announced with a manila folder in hand, wiggling it to gain Felicia’s attention. The Black Cat pushed back a shelf that she had been skimming through and made her way to the reluctant partner-in-crime.

“One order of Sara Sablinova, comin’ up!” The Spider gleefully presented his find to her, reading the name printed on the cover with nonexistent fluidity in the pronunciation of the foreign name. Felicia gave him a sweet tap on his shoulder and took the offered item.

“Should we sit down and look?” Felicia inspected the name and the candid on the first page with a ghost of longing on her face but keeping a façade all the same.

“What about the securities?”

“Then we would have to steal it.” She sent a lopsided smirk at him.

“Promise me you will return it afterward,” he offered a pinky to her, narrowed eyes and furrowed brows as well.

“Pinky promise? You are cute, but we’ll see about that.”

“Cat…”

“Come on, Parker!” she urged, and he complied by attaching the folder to his back under his jacket with a thin layer of webbing. “Follow me and keep acting like you are madly in love with me.” Felicia hissed with a grin.

“What actin’?” Peter teased with his hand hovering respectfully and mindfully over her waist; reminding himself of the unspoken phantom she’d shown him earlier and waggled his brows.

“Careful, Spider.” She leaned in and whispered into his ears, sending shivers down his spine with the sultry of her tone “You are borderline getting me hooked.” She gathered herself on one of his arms and signals him to throw her up towards one particular skylight opening that has some screws loose. But as Peter was about to follow the Black Cat up, a familiar chuckle reached his ears.

“You’re too kind, Victor!” Susan Storm walks alongside a tall and intimidating gentleman, by the name of Victor if her declaration earlier was anything to go by, her arm hooked in the crook of his and exchanging pleasant interactions intimately between themselves.

“Nonsense, Susan!” the Eastern European man replied with a charming grin, subtly touching the small of her back. “I’ve always been a supporter of scientific advancement, and Richards was also one of my old friends I have whose actual goals aligned with mine. I’d gladly see his vision through however I can.” His hand lingers there, but Susan Storm does not seem to mind the attention.

“Mister Richards would be elated.” The blonde Biochemist let out a sweet smile, lightly ghosting her fingers over the exposed flesh under his collarbone, exercising her femininity to its fullest.

“Why don’t we discuss the details over dinner? I’m sure Reed might appreciate something more personal and upfront?” his hand snakes its way to the side of her hip, leaning in slowly as his desire to taste her sweet lips clouded his mind. Susan clears her throat a little, noting the intention of the man, and tilts her head to the side to offer her cheek instead; her eyes widen at the sight of Peter Parker’s surprised face.

“Peter!?” she almost screeched out his name, quickly putting a sizable gap between herself and the Foreign Monarch. Victor bore a confused expression at the sudden boundary displayed by his date for the night, following her widened and panicked eyes to the brunet standing alone. “What uh…” Susan stammered, looking back and forth between the two men and fidgeting with her hair while subtly putting more distance towards Victor “What are you doing here?” her forced smile quivering as her head ran through possible excuses for the show of intimacy earlier.

“Oh! I was just—” Peter felt a sudden tug on his elbow, looking at the sudden reappearance of Felicity Harmon. The platinum-haired exotic beauty smiles sweetly at him and quickly lodging herself at his side as if mimicking the closeness shown by Susan Storm and Victor earlier.

“Sorry, Pete! I got carried away a little,” the fake giggle was very convincing if he didn’t know the context of her play, purposefully ignoring the older couple at the moment “Your friends?” her emerald gaze falls upon the blonde and one of the famous faces in the world at the side; noting the glare of confusion mixed with a tinge of suppressed jealously evident on the older woman’s stunning face.

“Um, right,” He replied with an uncertain air, alternating his eyes between Black Cat’s amused grin and Sue Storm’s confused eyes “Felicity,” he gestured at the platinum-haired at his side for Susan, and her companion “that’s Doctor Susan Storm; my supervisor at Richards Aerospace,” Having led the platinum-haired thief to the others, he started with a hand gesture indicate towards the unamused doctor “and… I don’t know the gentleman.” He shoots an apologetic grin towards the curious man.

“I am Király (King in Hungarian) Victor Von Doom,” the man introduced himself with a diplomat smile towards the brunet while taking Felicia’s offered hand to his lips. “Pleasure to meet you here; I hope my taste in decorations impressed you,” Doom said with a confident smirk, Felicia returned a polite smile at the royal.

“It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness,” Felicia said with a little bow; she couldn’t remember the ruthless new ruler of Latveria outside of his extravagant attire she saw on the international news.

“Please call me Victor or at least Doctor Doom.” Doom offered with a chuckle, releasing her hand as Felicia returned it to the small of Peter’s back just to elicit a reaction from Susan Storm, which she enjoyed very much. “I detest the royalty title outside of my court, always makes me feel like a façade.”

“As you wish, Doctor Doom,” Felicia shot a sultry voice and charming smile his way, making Peter quirk his brow in amazement. “I’m sorry we’ve interrupted your lovely date; Pete and I were about to retreat for the night.” Black Cat’s enjoyment is noticeable in the way she’s speaking.

“Really?” Sue was the one who proposed the question with a tight voice and a glare in Peter’s direction “I’d thought you would’ve gone back to your girlfriend’s apartment; seeing that you never returned to our lab.” the blonde’s eyes never left the smug teaser of a woman at her subordinate’s side.

“Oh, that’s…”

“Maxine has him running some errands, we met after so long apart since our high school days! So, I steal him away to catch up!” the cover story went out so smoothly that Peter had to mentally applaud her.

“Maxine?” Susan’s confusion is clear.

“Oh, sorry. I’m used to calling Gwendolyne by her middle name; we’ve always been at each other’s throats when we were young, I sometimes forget which name she wants to be called.” Felicia flawlessly replied without a hiccup. “Anyways, it is a pleasure to meet you all. But I think it’s past bedtime for him now.” And she leads the protesting brunet to another exit point they have prepped earlier.

Simply put; Susan Storm ditched the foreign monarch immediately after that, returning to her apartment with heavy thoughts and much to process.

“How exactly did you know about my girlfriend’s middle name?” Peter questioned the woman who clings to his back with her dear life, on their way towards the Chrysler building.

“Feminine intuition,” Black Cat chirped into his ears, her arms circling his neck as her hands gripped the fabric of his jacket very tight.

“Huh?”

“Us ladies need to keep the air of mystery around ourselves, you know? Otherwise, it would be too easy for you boys to understand us.”

“But I heard communication is a key to successful relationships, Miss Harmon!” he teased with a cackle.

“Relationships? My, aren’t you forward.” She riposted in kind, with a lopsided smirk at the slight faltering of his swings when he gets flustered. “I’m too complicated for you, lover boy,” she snickered into his ear, enjoying the sense of freedom he gets to experience anytime.

“I do love a challenge,” he started with his usual flirty remark, but produced a dismissal chuckle afterward “But I’ll have to agree with you on that.”

“Smart man,” Felicia can’t help but give an imprint of her smile on his flexing back.

“So… can I ask about this Sara Sablinova?” Peter chanced a quiet conversation, as he let her read the content in privacy while munching on Omar’s shawarma.

“Itsy Nosy Spider~~” Felicia sang with a smirk, eyes never leaving the words printed into the paper in her hands. There’s so much in here that she’d never learn on her own.

Complying with her shutting his attempt off, he continues eating in peace while texting on his phone, smiling and chuckling occasionally through the whole thing. Oblivious to the curious gazes of the Black Cat.

<<< You have to see the view!

<<< [IMAGE SENT]

>>> Cat looked like a librarian there 👍

<<< She’s so quiet it’s starting to bother me…

>>> What were you guys up to?

<<< She just gave me a tour of the Latverian-Symkarian embassy!

>>> Cool! I hope you guys had a great time 😒

<<< Jelly? 😘

>>> 😝

>>> How’s Kate?

>>> I saw DB headlines about the new Iron Man visiting earlier

<<< She’s out of the woods, but things get more complicated

<<< Harley was a friend; he came to check on her

<<< Still not friendly, BTW

<<< Tell you when I get home ❤ ️

“What’s up with you two? Iron Man Jr. and Spidey have some beef?” Felicia inquired with curiosity painted on her face, resting her chin on her propped hand and looking at him. “I heard some bits and pieces from that Russki’s antics, but not enough to make sense of it.” The manila folder has been closed, signifying the end of her investigation.

“What about it?” he retorted defensively, quirking an eyebrow at her investment in his personal affair, hiding his phone better from her prying eyes.

“Just… curious,” Felicia shrugged her shoulders, “A rift between friends often stems from secrets and emotional suppressions, or just a refusal to understand.” She snatches the leftover shawarma from his hand and takes a bite.

He let her off with stealing his food, studying her again while the carefree air still presents around her otherwise guarded person. She harbored some ghost in her past, like everyone, but the extent of the trauma manifested itself in her reaction to being held or unannounced touches kind of reveal the source of evil. He kept a respectable distance of physical interaction between them just like he learned to do it with Kate back when they started living together at the Avengers Academy.

Black Cat seemed to be comfortable enough to engage in personal spaces when there was a task to complete, or she had something to gain from it like earlier with her teasing the hell out of Sue. Outside those parameters, she’s a very distant person.

“Got what you were looking for?” Peter started after a long moment of silence, taking in the rhythm of the city below.

“Some,” Felicia answered with a sedated tone, sighing deeply as she looked at the cover again, reading the name in capital letters. “Thanks, Spider,” she turned towards him with a grateful smile; soft and genuine unlike her usual smirks “Not many would have.”

“Gotta keep up the good deeds, ya know?” he stands horizontally on the wall “Can’t have you leave a bad review on my public services blog.” He grinned at the giggle that he managed to elicit from the Cat. “Please, return it, yeah?” he points at the manila folder.

Felicia chuckles and shakes her head lightly, approaching him and lowering herself to take a spot on his back again “Why am I even considering keeping my pinky promise to you?” she laces her arm in front of his neck and crosses her legs around his waist.

“Because pinky promises are sacred, duh!” he replied with a smug grin, and leaped backward into a reverse barrel roll, falling towards the busy street before abruptly cutting momentum to the side.

“Hey.” Peter greeted Gwen, who was still rummaging through a mountainous amount of work piling on the remaining space on the couch. He planted a kiss on the top of her head, inhaling the whiff of her shampoo. Looking over the edge of her blonde hair to the document she’s currently working on.

“Welcome back, stud,” Gwen teased him, resting her right palm on his cheek, caressing it softly while Peter leaned into the touch with a hum. “Hungry? I made some Gnocchi earlier; in the fridge.” She delivered a set of love taps with her palm, urging him to go on with his things so she could focus on the work.

“Is that what I smelled?” he navigated blindly in the direction of the modest fridge, opening the lid and taking the Tupperware out along with a bottle of protein shake; he has hypermetabolism and has to intake more calories. “You are the best, honey!”

Peter situated himself on the floor near Gwen’s upper body, leaning back to rest. Munching on the reheated dinner while reviewing what Edith has managed to outsource, through her unrestricted protocol he’d lifted when looking for Hawkeye, regarding the engineered virus in Kate’s system on his laptop. Constant updates on the analysis sent in from KAREN data servers throughout New York, comparing and compiling their findings into a coherent model of the nanomachine.

“So?” Gwen finished with her latest report, turning sideways to brush her nose against the top of his lounging head and look into the screen of his new laptop.

“Huh?” he replied with a mind that detached from his surroundings, noting the tickling sensation of Gwen’s finger twirling loose strands of his hair.

“The nanomachine, Pete,” Gwen sent a soft smile at him, wanting to preserve his fragile resolve that he tried to maintain through his usual goof since the moment Clint Barton called in. “How it’s going?”

Peter kept his tight smile on, bringing up a 3D model of the virus for her to inspect; However, the decrypted data from Harley Keener’s end provided only about 75% of the overall structure, it was enough for Edith and Pete to speculate some resolution to the problems at hands.

Gwen ran her eyes through the simulated biological structure of the cell in attentive details, noting some similarities she once saw from a single frame render in the pile of discarded projects at the disposable trunk of the lab; resembling a spider in the number of its artificial appendages, the main organic body consists of various characteristics from known and unknown pathogens. The engineering aspects of the nanometric mechanism are where she was lost.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Gwen whispered into the stilled air enveloping them in its cocoon, suffocating and confining them with each passing moment.

“I’d be surprised if you did,” Peter replied “This advanced form of bioengineering has never been achieved.”

“CRISPR came close, but not to this level of ingenuity. It would take years upon years of constant tweaking to make this work.” Fascinated and terrified of the revelation before her, Gwen’s mind turns to dark places of insidious possibilities if Doctor Octopus decides to unseal the Pandora’s Box of his creation on the world without a care.

It would be chaos beyond one’s imagination; a complete world-changing catastrophe that will yield an unforeseeable future for mankind’s evolution or complete eradication.

“It can be applied in so many ways! Curing diseases, designer babies, mutagenic experimentations,” Gwen exclaimed with wide eyes “I’d even say it is possible to adapt this type of artificial organism as a form of pseudo immortality by giving our body a rapid cellular regeneration! Degraded cells will be recycled and produce new ones constantly; we won’t age, and as long as the supplies are there we can continue living!”

“I’m not following?” Peter exclaimed quietly, trying to gather what he knew regarding Gwen’s field of expertise.

“Think of it as a type of console command; your body is the game, right? So, you input codes into the CC and then the game will comply with it; like adding properties that you want, giving yourself an item that you need,”

“Like a cheat code,”

“Exactly.”

The potential calamity then dawns on him as well; possibilities of nationwide, or even global, pandemic with perfected viruses that will leave no chances for counterattack.

“How long have you known about this?!” Felicia burst into Kingpin’s suite atop Fisk Tower with a forceful shove to the heavy wooden doors. A single candid shot of a bearded man with claw marks on his rough face, his left eye dulled and blinded by a long gash that ran down from above his brow towards the side of his jaw. She flung the picture at her employer with an angry expression adorning her pretty face.

Wilson Fisk looks at the picture for a brief moment, recalling the significance of the captured visage’s owner. He averted his eyes up to the fuming Felicia and sighed deeply. He ended the call he was having before her intrusion, apologized politely to the person on the other end of the line, and picked the picture up between his index and thumb on the left hand. The giant crime lord gestured for his late friend’s daughter to take a seat opposite him on the couches, separated by a sizable gap at the center.

Felicia huffed in irritation, but knew better than to act otherwise, complying with his demands. Crossing her legs and leaned back against the cushion, looking at his aged face with expectancy.

“What did you know about this man?” he raises the photo with his hand, looking intently at Felicia’s conflicted face.

“Sergei Kravinoff, or Kraven the Hunter as known by many. You’d enlisted his infamous skillsets on some of the players in the past, but let’s not stray the topic here, Uncle Willy,” Felicia shot a menacing grin at him, and Kingpin remained calm and expressionless in his seat. “How long did you know about his operation here, in 2005?”

“I don’t follow, Licia.” The use of her nickname brought a grunt out of her throat, annoyed at his masterful tricks to diffuse a tense situation.

“YOU are New York! Nothing happened in YOUR city without you knowing! So, why!?” Felicia fished another photo of a different person out of her pocket; the vintage shot depicted an Eastern-European woman with distinct silver hair cut into a bob framing her smiling face, in her arms nestled a tyke with Tour Eiffel as a backdrop. “Why didn’t you tell me about the death of my mother by his hands?!” she slammed the second photo on the tabletop, it flipped to reveal a scribble on the back.

Sara and Felicia, Mon monde!

-W. H. (July 2000)

“It was your father’s wish, child,” he finally spoke after a tedious silence. Felicia perked up at his words, confusion and hurt expressed through her eyes. “He vowed me not to relay this information after the Snap and his hospitalization, hoped that somehow the universe would give you back to him, and wanted nothing more than you to live a happy life.”

“Happy? How the hell would I be happy not knowing about my mother?!” she stood up abruptly, fists clenched tightly, and her body quivered in rage.

“You wouldn’t be vengeful and thinking about avenging your mother like you are now,” Wilson Fisk kept his calculated and intimidating demeanor like they were glued to his being “A man like Kraven is dangerous, Felicia, he will kill you. And that goes against my promises to Walter. I indulged you in your employment contrary to his wish, Felicia, but you will obey me on this one; do not seek revenge on Sergei Kravinoff, he won’t take a challenge lightly, and I know how you plan to summon him.” Kingpin reprimanded her with a low voice and hard eyes.

“We’ll see about that, Mister Fisk,” she spat out and took the photos in her hand, making her way out of the suite without looking back.

“Stop being petty, Joseph, it’s unbecoming of a man of your stature.” Doctor Octopus mused calmly; hands busied with the device in front of him while his mechanical arms took on other components.

Hammerhead keeps on murdering his henchmen, specifically those who failed to prevent Spider-Man from rescuing their captive. About half a dozen of his men had their heads bashed in by a sledgehammer in the mob boss’s hands.

“There are works to be done, and we may need manpower still.” He checked all of the parts and mechanisms for the fifth time, was satisfied with the final product, and used two of his extendable arms to put it away for later. “Have you procured the prisoners I needed?” Doc Ock quickly took the hammer away from Martello’s bloodied hands, tossing it away to end the massacre.

“Sure,” Hammerhead grunted with fuming anger, then signaled his other men to fetch the mentioned procurement for his partner “It was not easy to get him out of Ryker, but nothing is beyond the Maggia’s reach in this city.” A prideful smirk plays on his lips at the sound of metallic wheels creaking against the cement floor. A gigantic body of a Russian man strapped to the trolley was pushed closer to the central area of the secret lab.

“Alexei Sytsevich, a pleasure to meet you.” Doctor Octopus greeted the gagged and restrained criminal with a polite tone “I hope my associate has been treating you well.” Doc Ock signaled for the removal of the gag “Want something to eat or drink? I believe comforts are essential to successful business dealings.”

“So, you are saying that I can beat the bug with your help, ja?” Alexei concluded after a long conversation with the odd-looking masked man and the infamous mafia.

“Believe me when I say this, my Russian friend,” the mad scientist starts “His superhuman feats are impressive but predictable and already calculated. I have devised many countermeasures to ward off his pesky intervention along with his band of vigilantes. I merely need you to put the plan in motion, along with the others, of course.” A door swung open revealing the newcomer.

Mac Gargan, the arms dealer from the ferry incident, wore an insulated compression suit.

“This gentleman will join forces with you in causing chaos throughout the city, drawing Spider-Man out in the open.” Doctor Octopus looks at the mafia boss “Don Martello will seize control over the borders in advance, utilizing the havoc both of you will deliver. Divided and conquer, so to say.” Mac Gargan takes a seat opposite Rhino, and a smirk appears on his lips.

“There are three aspects we must consider before initiating this play.” The Scientist calls up a hologram from the surface of the table, detailing each district of Manhattan “Daredevil and Jessica Jones frequent Hell’s Kitchen down to Greenwich,” another smaller hologram of an exoskeleton with a stinger tail shows up “I have equipped Mister Gargan’s suit for such foes.”

“I’m itching to take it for a ride, Doc.” Scorpion grinned.

“You, Alexei, will take on Luke Cage’s territory,” a region of the map highlighted with a glowing frame “He might have impenetrable skin, but physic is still physic.” A hologram of the newly designed Rhino suit showed up, and a glint of excitement danced in the Russian’s eyes. “High velocity of your charge paired with the surface area of titanium-alloy horn with a little modification from Mister Mason will take care of it.”

“A Vibranium bit? You are a resourceful man, comrade.” Alexei hummed “But what about these parts where the little Spider protects? How should we deal with it?”

“I will keep him company,” Doctor Octopus announced, his eyes falling upon a particular building that was not highlighted at all in his presentation, internally cackled at the Magnum Opus he kept to himself.

Today’s work started in uncomfortable air. Burning glances from Susan Storm bore a hole in his back while he assembled the new component himself and Julia Takeda designed for the Mars rover.

“What did you do?” Julia asked him with squinted eyes after the blonde Biochemist left for a break. Her hands rested on her hips with expectancy.

“Nothing? I don’t know why she’s acting like this either, Jules, believe me.”

“This is getting ridiculous,” the senior engineer breathed out. “This thing between you and her, Peter, you have to do something about it soon, or things will get awkward around here.”

“What thing?”

“For real? You’ll tell me that you didn’t notice her acting all flustered and giggling around you?”

“Of course, I did, I’m not a kid!” Peter hissed “But I didn’t lead her on, even once, I swear! Nothing is going on between us.”

“Seems like she wants something to be there though,” Julia mused.

“I’m already in a relationship.” Peter declared.

“Monogamy is just a concept, young man!” Julia grinned and slapped her hand on one of his shoulders firmly, Peter had to fake a reaction to it.

“… you think I should… pursue her?” her young apprentice chanced a question after a while, a contemplating look plastered on his face.

“Do you want to?” she quirked her brow at him with intrigue.

“Well… Sue’s a wonderful woman, but… I don’t know. Maybe?” his eyes squinted, and lips pressed into a straight line, forgetting the task at hand for a moment to ponder his senior’s words. He agreed to some of the aspects of it; maybe it was not a universally accepted concept, but it’s not a malicious concept either.

The most important question is, how would Gwen view this topic?

Will she be okay with him or herself dating others while being in a relationship?

Did he truly consider doing something like that, even if an agreement could be established?

What would it be like? Dating multiple women at once? He’d never done that before!

Wouldn’t it be, like, cheating? Maybe not, if all parties agree?

He wishes for a world-ending problem for him to solve rather than trying to figure this out.

“Careful, Pete, that part is the most delicate one!” Julia hissed with a quick swat to his shoulder and jolted him out of his trance. “You are thinking about it? I’m impressed!”

“Thinking about what?” Susan returned at that moment, spying a jumped Peter and a cackling Julia with confusion.

“Just an idea we got for the new spacesuit,” Julia quickly covered with her casual tone, taking pity on the shocked junior and apprentice at her side “You remember that adaptive fabric we got going on for the last few months? I think Peter might have a solution to it, right?” the last question was directed at the hyperventilating young-adult.

“Um,” he clears his throat quickly, “Right, yes!” he brings up a chemical composition derived from his web-fluid formula, combined with many prototypes of the aforementioned adaptable fiber by Reed Richards from the archive “So, this is where you guys found a hiccup in the fabrication process, right? But with this…” he highlighted the simulation from adding his invention into it “the atomic bonds should be flexible enough to Mister Richards’s vision and speculated application.”

Susan is impressed, but the event from last night still clings to her mind, resulting in an underwhelming reaction to his achievement.

“You discovered this formula yourself?” Her question bared no doubts and accusations, which is very appreciated.

“I played with the idea when my freshman’s project broke and I couldn’t afford a part replacement; had to just stick it back together and so I kinda invented this super-duper glue for it. Has been improving the tensile strength and elasticity ever since.” He got a proud smile on his face.

“What do you think, Jules?” Susan asked the engineer and got only a happy grin from her friend.

“I think I have to start working on it, by myself,” Julia spoke with a satisfying grin in Peter’s direction “I’ll leave you two to sort it out; with the new bio-filter, I mean.” With that, the senior engineer left the lab with a parting grin towards Peter.

“So…” The young adult started, unsure of how to defuse the tense air around them.

“You seemed uncomfortable since this morning,” Susan cut in, her eyes a bit hooded with uncertainty and embarrassment; recalling the last night’s encounter she had with the young man while she was ‘persuading’ one of RAC’s biggest donors.

“Am I?” his question was underlined with an accusation, mild as it is, which elicited a sigh from his supervisor.

Susan locked the lab, to give them privacy and temporarily disabled Nathaniel’s local system. “About last night,” she started but found herself unable to continue with what she had in mind. “That was not what it looked like, okay? He’s just an old friend,”

“Of Mister Richards, yeah, I kinda overheard that.” He keeps sending a casual smile at her, but it seems like her mind is still cluttered. “You don’t have to justify anything I saw, Sue.” He shoots her a reassuring smile.

“I don’t want you to have an incorrect impression of what happened, Peter.” Her eyes cast down “Victor Von Doom is the biggest shareholder of RAC, I merely ensure his continued support so that we can build a better future for everyone.”

“Oh!” Peter has an ‘O’ shape on his mouth, with a look on his self that can be interpreted as a misunderstanding “Uh…wow, umm. Well, that’s…” he tries so hard to find the right word for his thoughts without potentially upsetting her. “So, both of you are, like, doing business? I’m not judging or anything! I think people have many different ways to… do things?” he surrendered with a sheepish grin and apologetic eyes.

“Wha—” The insinuation dawned on her after a moment of confusion to his words. Susan gasped and let out a flustered huff “It’s not like that!”

“Hey, it’s cool! But it will be better if there are feelings involved, and I—” he got hit on the side of his temple, quite firmly on her part, and turned into a mere love tap to his enhanced body.

“I am not using sex as a tool, you idiot!” She chided him with a frown adorning her face, her piercing blue eyes squinted at him with annoyance “Shut up and listen.” She demanded and he obliged “He’s infatuated with me, so, I see an opportunity to do something for this company. That something involves a bit of flirting and sweet words, yes, but nothing more.” She has her index finger pointed between his eyes “I don’t know what you thought I did, but you are sorely mistaken, Mister Parker!”

Peter was stunned, a bit intimidated by her irritation at his tasteless implication, and quickly running possible recourses through his head.

“I can’t believe you thought so low of me,” a glint of hurt passed on her eyes, turning away from him.

“Sue, I’m…” he couldn’t find the right word for a moment “I’m very sorry for upsetting you. Sometimes I said things without thinking, all right? I shouldn’t have insinuated things like that,” He searched for her eyes with an apologetic smile, seeing her grimace sink his feelings further.

“I’m not that kind of woman, Peter…” Susan whispered out with a tortured expression on her face “I know many viewed me that way since Victor joined the board,” Almost like a plea breathed into the ears of a fairy, wishing “I’ve paid them no mind, dealt with it the best I can; some employees even disregard my efforts from the stupid rumor that I’ve slept with Reed for a position here! I’ve worked my arse off since graduation, but some still refused to see past my appearance.” She lamented with a little choke, sitting on the metal stool nearby to catch her balance.

“Sue…”

“And now you! You think I’m just a pretty face who only got what she has by using her body! Well, I’m not! Okay!? I am a very intelligent scientist! I owe all of my achievements! I’ve never laid myself down like a tramp just to get ahead! I’ve never—” Her rant got cut short by a sudden hug from her intern, pressing her furious and teary face into his chest, she resisted but couldn’t escape his strong grip. She drums her fist on him, hisses, and cries for him to release his hold, but he persists.

“I’m proud of you.” He said, genuinely and soothingly, his delivery quivered a little due to her constant struggle “I’m so proud of you, Susan Storm,” he cooed her like a child, rocking them back and forth in a slow and calming rhythm. His hand smoothed her golden locks like the loving touch of a father; one that she almost forgot ever existed so long ago. “You are a wonderful person. You are smart. You are funny. You are so passionate that I am sometimes jealous of the love you have for your work. You are not what they said, what I’ve said. You are fantastic.” he whispered to the top of her head; despite being nearly similar in height, Peter managed to tuck her under his cheek.

She couldn’t form a verbal response without a sob breaking it apart, so, she gathered him tighter against her quivering body. Soaking his goofy science joke t-shirt with a stream of silent tears.

It took her around five minutes to let it all out and calm down, but her arms still held his oddly warm and strong body. She smears her ran-down makeup, not that it was much, to begin with, absentmindedly on his shirt. Her palms were flat against the contour of his muscled back; taut and hardened like a valley of steel mounds.

She reeled herself back a bit, allowing a space to look up at him with glossy eyes. He has that attractive smile on with saddened eyes and a wash of guilt plays on his face. His arm rests comfortably around her shapely hip and his hand still smoothing her hair with feathery touches. She leans up out of pure desire, discarding all preventions and restrictions set in place. He descends upon her as well; his hazelnut bore into her clear sky.

“Hey,” he greeted loudly into the room, in case she was asleep. Kate turns her head and unfocused eyes upon the entrance direction, registering his voice and sending her tired smile his way.

“Pizza guy? How much do I owe you?” Kate joked while leaning on the recliner, enjoying the familiar waft of cheese and oregano. She felt his presence closer, the sound of a cardboard box being settled, and a scooting screech of the hospital’s standard chair. “What? Nothing? Damn, it must have been so bad for you to not react to it.” She keeps on pressing him with her a cheery mannerism.

She’d prefer that he play along with her incessant need to counter traumatic events with bad puns and half-ass jokes. But it had also been solidified long ago that Peter Parker could be as stubborn as a brick too if he wanted.

The soft placing of his palm against her good cheek was enough to crumble the dam she’d built. Warm and salty tears escaped her eyes, cascading down his soothing palm and a quiet strangled sob accompanied her breath. He cooed her in silence, caressing her cheekbone with the softest of touches she’d ever got, and she couldn’t grasp it like she wanted due to the casts.

“We knew each other better than that, don’t you think?” Peter whispered with a reassuring smile that she couldn’t see, his eyes hooded in an attempt to not be pitiful about the woman in front of him; she hated being the target of unwanted sympathy, and he remembered as much.

“Couldn’t even indulge me anymore?” Kate tries a quivering lopsided grin, feeling his thumb graze the commissure of her lips; tasting the saltiness of her tear.

“Kate,” the way he pronounced her name sent a swell of nostalgia through her core; relieving the soft delivery he used in the middle of the night when he thought she’d fallen asleep, spooned in his arms as his nose buried deep at the nape of her neck.

“What do you want me to do? I didn’t even need to tell you how fucking pathetic I feel right now lying here, am I?” Kate hissed out, a grimace descending upon her bruised and bared face “I can’t be Hawkeye if I can’t see, right? That’s my whole shtick, Pete! Being an Avenger is all I have…”

“No, it’s not.” He protested but her emotional state might prove a bit difficult to get the message through.

“Peter, I don’t have super strength or super brain. I can shoot anything I can see, and that’s it. Without my sight, I have practically nothing.” She then tried to flex her fingers and wrists, the former obeyed easier and a jolt of discomfort shot up her arms. “I’m useless.”

“Don’t do that,” Peter reprimanded her, his caress increasing its force a little “You are not useless.”

“How?! Care to enlighten me?”

He opens his mouth but fails to find an answer to her question. Kate waited a moment before letting out a forced cackle.

“And being… impaired is not the end of the world. I know that much, Pete.” Kate chuckled darkly “I meant it as an Avenger; I can’t be Hawkeye anymore, and I’m just a nobody without that name.” she expected him to reel back or falter from that, yet his hand persisted in its place, soothingly caressing her face with that lost familiarity.

“I’ve always wanted to be a hero,” she recalls the tale he’d heard multiple times in their past relationship, friendly and romantic, “Having Clint’s trust to continue his legacy was one of the happiest I’ve been in a while.” She then turns, despite the darkness in her sight, to where his hunched form is “And now… I…” she squeezes it out, yet only suppressed despair emerges, rendering her breath ragged and forming a lump that suffocates herself. subconsciously, a shadow screams this misfortune onto the very person who changed her life and took her in as if she were his own.

She never cries openly in his face, always out of his sight by burying her face somewhere he won’t dare to look or interrupt. Tonight, at this very moment, Kate couldn’t hold it in anymore as she wailed and pleaded with him to fix her like she’d never wanted anyone to do before. He rests his forehead at her temple, offering himself as an anchor she might want.

Kate fell asleep after a while, exhausted from the exert of emotional trauma she harbored within. The nurses and Bobbi Morse made a visit to administer medicines and mandatory inspection, the blonde agent stayed behind for a short while before retreating herself.

Peter leans on the sofa, massaging his eyelids in a grim mood.

Harley is still radio-silent on the progression of Kate’s cure, and he had Edith working straight for days compiling data about the virus that he can find.

The most beneficial way should be extracting information from the very proprietor himself; Doc Ock, for a solution. Yet, the villain and his cohorts had gone underground since his raid of their compound.

Thinking back to that morning, he feels conflicted at how he’d dealt with those criminals with aggression and brutality driven by the desperation to save the woman he loves or loved. Whatever the reason he convinced himself for the time, it was no excuse to treat them like ragdolls as he did. It’s as if a switch has been flicked.

“You are better than that.” He remembers Ben’s words when he got detention for an altercation back in grade 5; the douche was a senior bully, but it was still too far in Ben’s eyes for what he’d done to him.

“You have a power, Peter,” at the time, that was just a typical reprimand from a guardian you could’ve gotten from anyone “It is in your duty and responsibility to use it for the better.” He was always a smart kid, as many claimed since, so in the case of 5^th grader Peter Parker that power comes from creative ways to get back at others with scientific geniuses rather than brute force.

In the trademark poetic irony that the universe (or multiverses?) keeps throwing at him like a bad performer on a stage booed by his audiences, May’s dying advice also resonated with her husband’s, differed only in contexts.

He’s strong. Stronger than to be a disregard jerk like that. They are criminals, but they are just getting by like everyone else the best they can; it does not excuse them for the terrible things they’ve done, but it is something he has to keep reminding himself once in a while to not become just another Punisher (met the guy; scary mothe**ucker).

A quiet city ruled by fear is not what he wants, even if it is the easiest path to an ideal utopia many had dreamt of. An easy solution such as that has led to many tyrants since the erection of human civilization, a craven for control breeds a warped perspective in man’s mind. Forgiveness and acceptance are the fundamentals for a better future, to better oneself.

Helped someone, you helped everyone.

His phone vibrates, signifying a call. He fished it in his hand and read the name on the screen. “Gwen? What’s up?”

“Just, checking in,” he could hear a shrug of her shoulders, and she ignored the tightness of his voice earlier “Doctor Storm called earlier, and said she wanted to have a drink at the club.” Gwen’s end offers some rustling of certain and fluttering of clothes “I might stay a bit late; you know, girls talk and all that.” She must be putting on some outfit for the Zenith, or he guessed that’s where Susan might’ve invited her to.

The real intention of the older blonde is what concerns him.

“Oh? That’s great! You’ve been going on long enough without your elixir of life now if I think about it.” He teased.

“Zip your gibbering mouth, babe; I’m not that alcoholic.” She replied with a smile “Just some cocktails, snacks, and gossiping about a particular dork should be a wonderful break.” It sounded like she was leaning down to put on shoes.

That’s what I’m worried about, he thought.

“How long will you be at the hospital?” Gwen walked to the front door, checking her attire once more at the tall mirror at the side, satisfied with the getup she put on; sleeveless black turtleneck, and faded green formfitting jeans. Her favorite green jacket folded in the crook of her elbow. “I might crash at Josy’s; hers is the closest one to the club.”

“What was it about not being that alcoholic?”

“Just in case!” she squeaked with a flustered blush; alcoholism had been an inside joke between them since they started dating, she’d always ensured him that she had it under control. “I was gonna say that there are some leftovers in the fridge, and your suit is still soaking in the bathroom.” The sound of the wooden door being shut signified the leaving for the night. “If you feel lonely,” a smirk made it through the phone, somehow “just pick me up at Zenith around 1.”

“Am I the only one who got that offer?”

“Kiss my ass, Pete,” Gwen grinned.

“Been there, done that,” he retorted with a chuckle “Be careful, Gwen. Love you,”

“Love you too,” she replied but made a sound afterward “Almost forgot; I’m taking Edith too,”

“You are… hauling a laptop to a nightclub?”

“The glasses, dork!” her cackles brought a smile deep within him.

“Have fun!” Peter chuckled with a lightened mood. Gwen smooched through the line and hung up.

“Pete?” Kate called, apparently stirred up from his conversation.

“Sorry, that was Gwen,” he relocated himself at her bedside again, offering a glass of water that she took eagerly.

“Something’s happened?” the dark-haired archer inquired after a satisfying sigh, returning the emptied glass to his waiting hand.

“No. She was just checking in and told me she’ll be hanging out with my boss at Zenith,” he answered, helping her sit up with the aide of the recliner function of the bed.

“Oh? Do you want to go with her? I’m fine by myself.” Kate asked with high brows; partially, she wanted him to stay the night.

“Nah,” he replied in a cheery tone “Not much of a party guy anyway.” He took her numb hand in a firm grip, and Kate swears she could hear a smile in his voice “Wanna listen to the Two Towers? I can do the Gandalf narration if you want?” a chuckle that escaped her throat lightened the dimly lit room.

“Bring it on, bug-boy,” Kate softly accepted. Peter produced a triumphant sound and quickly set up the TV with his phone, opening the second film from his library. When he is done and the movie starts, he turns his head back to see that Kate has scooted a little to the side to make space for him.

“Come on, just like old times,” she pats the vacant spot, inviting him to take residence.

Peter slowly approached the bed, contemplating the underlined meaning of her actions and his coming decision. Not long after, with a sigh, he lays on his back beside her, comfortably falling into the nostalgic position accustomed to them a long time ago with her head rested on his shoulder, his right hand steadied her from falling off to the side, and one of her legs entwined with his. The intimacy that was lost to a distance they’ve put upon it themselves resurfaces slowly between two former lovers, relishing in the familiar warmth the other provides to enjoy the time spent in another’s presence.

Kate had almost forgotten how lonely and scared she felt these past few days, living in the dark, when listening to his poor imitation of Sir Ian McKellen and the drumming of his heart against her ear.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

MIRAGE

“You are punctual, good.” The Recruiter greeted him with a monotonous voice, stepping aside to let him into the secluded meeting spot. He walked past many recruits like him, some even younger than he was.

“We’ll wait for another five minutes,” The Recruiter announced firmly to all participants present “Any who failed to be registered will be disposed of immediately after.” With that, the Recruiter signals for them to indulge in beverages and snacks lining the island at the center.

“Where are you from?” one of the pledges; a senior with short dark hair and brown eyes spoke to him while he took a seat at the bar.

“Cochem, you?” he replied, raising the mug of lager as a salute, which was reciprocated with vigor and a friendly smile.

“Berlin, born and bred.” The two downed half of their mugs in one go. Pleasantries were exchanged between small conversations and scientific topics.

Not long after that, a group of suits walked into the building, he noticed the crest of an eagle inside a circular ring on their beings as a form of identification.

Alexander Pierce was the name of the most respected man among them.

Faces and structures zoomed away, changing…

He stands with a brief of the assignment in his hand and reads it thoroughly again since his handler insists upon doing so.

Barton, the only thing he called the man with and not that cheesy callsign ‘Hawkeye’, has his eyes trained on their newest addition; a femme fatale Russian by the name of Natasha Romanov, the infamous Black Widow that Barton managed to indoctrinate under SHIELD.

If not for the fact that he knows that Barton has an ongoing serious affair with Agent 19, he might view the attention as a carnal one.

“You got all that?” Barton asked, his shaded eyes never left the Black Widow.

“I’ve read through it thrice, Barton. I’m sure whatever there is to be accustomed to in these documents has already taken residence in my brain.”

“Smartass.” The senior agent mused with a smirk. “When were you saying that 13 will be here?”

“She should have been here about 15 minutes ago, as you are well aware. I can’t clairvoyant the reason for this tardiness either, in case you are wondering.” He returned the folder to the carry-on, setting it down, and picked out a joint from its aluminum pocket, offering it to his handler but got refused. He tentatively lit it up and savored the contrast of flavors accompanied by the milky smoke.

“You should relax once in a while, you know?”

“I don’t smoke,” Barton simply replied, scooting away from the thin cloud.

“An archery thing?”

“She doesn’t like it.”

“Ah! Love, of course.”

“You are one to talk, man,”

“Fortunate for me; both of us enjoy similar things.” At the end of his retort, the subject of his bragging manifested from the crowd of people in her usual glory; chestnut hair and warm brown eyes, adorned herself with a sweet smile and cheery air. “There she is!”

“You are late, Agent 13.” The Black Widow greeted the last member of their little group and quickly directed her to the gate along with the other two.

“What took you so long, M?” he asked with a smile, which she reciprocated.

“I couldn’t find my… you know?”

“Oh… I know,” he winked playfully at the flustered woman.

Faces and structures zoomed away, changing…

“Look at him!” Natasha cooed softly to the baby in her arms beside a tired mother. “He has your eyes!” The Black Widow shows a surprising level of motherly love; maybe caused by the hole that the Red Room left behind inside of her.

He sits on the sofa inside the bedroom, of his house in Queens, sipping the tea made by his brother’s wife who also pays a visit following the birth of their son. “Be careful with the little tyke, Natasha, or we’ll have to make a new one sooner than expected,” he joked with a light heart, feeling fulfillment and peace for the first time in his life. “Having my sister-in-law shower him with kisses was bad enough.”

“I can’t help it! He’s so cute!” Natasha plays with the giggling baby, smiling brightly.

Yet, for some reason, he couldn’t recall the face of his son or even what name he’d given him. Like a corrupted part of a video of his life.

Faces and structures zoomed away, changing…

“You don’t have to do this, Clint, please!” he pleaded to the cold-eyed man in front of him, guarding Mary with his body as best he could. The bow and arrow that protected him and his wife so many times in the past now aimed to kill. “Just let us go. Think about ----r and Teresa! They’re still kids! They need their parents!”

“The order was clear, pal,” Hawkeye said coldly “You infiltrated SHIELD as a HYDRA agent; I have to follow orders.” The assassin quickly pulled his arrow back and released it. But as he expected a jolt of pain, it never came. “Fuck!” Hawkeye grunted with annoyance and irritation.

“NO!”

The memories blurred and hazy after that, there was an explosion of some sort. He might be the one to trigger it. The plane they were on fire and spiraling down to the Earth while he watched the light leave his wife’s eyes as she took her last breath…

“Octo!” Hammerhead’s voice called from outside.

He jolts awake from the broken memories he’d just relived against his wishes. He took a glass of water and cleared his throat, pouring the remaining liquid on his head to wash away the cobweb in his mind.

“Octo!” another thud came from his annoyingly insistent associate.

“Yes, I’m awake!” he yelled “I will meet you with the others in a moment, Joseph.” And with a muffled hum, the mafia don left.

He slowly got up and approached the makeshift sink to freshen up. The dim light from the fluorescent tube above his head illuminated the burnt scars on his face, neck, torso, and part of his left leg. The skin melted in some areas and was mostly irritating to maintain normal human function.

He took an injector with a label dubbed ‘Formula M’ and administered it to himself. The component spread quickly through his body, repairing damaged cells and lessening the agony he felt, it was also to prepare his body and nervous system to use the arms as efficiently as he did for so long.

Donned the compression suit and then the armored exoskeleton parts of his moniker’s attire, he left the room while the suit system started booting up.

Today is the day he follows through with his beloved Mary’s vision, today is the day he will honor her the only way he knows how.

“Gentlemen!” he greeted the forces Hammerhead and Wilson Fisk gathered for him and cast his eyes upon two distinct figures garbed themselves in his latest inventions.

Rhino is now standing in a sleeker version of that protection suit that he’d redesigned the exoskeleton for, giving him more mobility and freedom than the prototype he’d stolen. The shiny Vibranium tip of the horn was very prominent.

Scorpion hides his scarred face in a full helmet aside from the opening of the mouth, orange-tinted visor covers his crazed eyes. His suit was the lighter combination of what Alexei got, with an addition of an extendable segmented stinger to align with his obsession about the certain venomous arachnid.

Hammerhead’s goons got gears and bulletproof armor provided by their other partner. Guns and weapons at full capacity. A rough estimation, they could have taken over a city in a day, given the additional help he brings.

“I made a promise to you all the day I’ve assembled such an imposing force under my dear friend Don Hammerhead’s guidance,” A show of respect goes a long way with these people “On this eve of celebration; It will be a commemorate to the new empire we will forge,” He raises his fist, reminiscing the mandatory salute that was drilled into his brain since the age of 18, only the shouted words differed “TOGETHER!” the henchmen, nearing hundreds of them, hollered in unison.

He let Hammerhead disperse them as discussed earlier, spreading their forces throughout the entirety of Manhattan focusing on bridges and airports to cut off transportation, while another cell putting EMP charges in places within OSCORP substations and communication towers.

The new Crime Monitoring System that he had modified beforehand will be the harbinger to Police forces and scramble their coordination; and if his estimation was corrected, Spider-Man’s technology will suffer a tremendous loss as well from the established connection the vigilante might have with it.

Water stations are also critical conquests, rendering the trapped citizens easily contained.

“What about us?” Rhino asked, itching for action after he had familiar himself with the new contraption of the super suit.

“Timing, Alexei, is everything.” Doc Ock signaled for the laidback unit of goons, and they approached the remaining trucks “I want you and Mister Gargan to get on your respective transports and arrive at the locations that we’ve agreed upon. I will radio all of you when I’m ready to launch our invasion, but not before.” Then he turns to Gargan, who is playing with the electrostatically charged tip of his bionic stinger “Please be patient, I implored you. Follow my directions and I can guarantee the death of Spider-Man by your hands.”

“No need to be all polite and repetitive with me, doc,” Gargan retracted the stinger into its housing unit, resembling that of his arms functionality, and strutting over the assigned vehicle that would deliver him to the territory of Daredevil “I know a good plan when I see one.” He hopped into the modified van and then made off in the direction.

“I don’t trust him,” Alexei mused with furrowed brows, his helmet still hanging in his hand “The idiot is too crazy to be relied upon.”

“He has his merits,” Doctor Octopus mused “Get going, my giant friend; A festival is about to commence.” While talking, the third truck was unloaded, and the launching pad was set up at the clearing of the abandoned factory ground “I have the final preparation to do before I can join the folie.”

“See you in the field, comrade,” Rhino donned his helmet and then climbed into a modified bus, heading out to upper Manhattan.

Doc Ock approached the device he’d finished recently, and a smile formed on his lips. Punching in sets of combinations to ready the launching protocol, he dismissed the remaining three Hammerhead goons to join in on the fun away from him.

The rocket charged up, building the propel forces that would take it to the desired altitude he’d calculated for maximum effect. Digital scramblers will take care of data traffic as a failsafe for EMP blasts in isolating. This final piece of the puzzle will ensure no intervention from airspace, as well as keeping things that will happen in an illusion of normalcy.

The device was launched, climbing the altitude at an accelerated pace, and at the apex of its trajectory, it deployed a massive forcefield utilizing many amplifiers he’d planted in advance throughout the body of water surrounding Manhattan.

“We are ready, Martello,” he said simply into the communication channel established with the mob boss, a grunt came back as a reply, and not a moment longer explosions of electromagnetic pulses erupted and lit up the night sky. Chaos starts slowly but progresses steadily, eerily silence falls upon the Sleepless City. Then gunfire. Screams. Explosions lit up the darkened scenery.

Chaos and death. The prominent agents for human evolution.

“Your dreams are coming to realization, my beloved Mary…” he whispered to the night “The next stage of Human Civilization starts here.” After a moment to relish the air of triumphant, Doctor Octopus made his way towards the tallest building on the horizon; the only place he knew would be immune. Baxter Building, the trove of treasures hoarded by Reed Richards.

He recalls the softest whispers of hers, quelling the fire within him like a stream of mountain river, and the way that she’d always said his name…

“…my dear Richard…”

Were the sweetest memories he cherished of hers.

Richard Parker / Doctor Octopus