With Peter:
Darkness all around.
I couldn't understand — how? Why? How can something be so empty and yet I feel so at ease?
I felt my back. It was pressed against something solid — something's wrong. I can't move my arms. I felt at my face. My lips were covered with something. I can't move. It's like I'm locked in place, unable to do anything.
I need to open my eyes. I need to find out where I am.
And slowly, there was light.
My eyelids were heavy. As the ceiling came into focus, so did the sound of a heart rate monitor. I couldn't look anywhere but straight up. My neck was immobilised. I lowered my gaze as much as I could — I was in a hospital bed.
I looked around. There was a table. So many flowers. I hate flowers. They could have at least brought comic books. I felt a surge of anger. The memories came flooding back — Doom. Bloody Doom.
I looked down at myself. My body was a ruin. My feet were bent at unnatural angles. My neck was mottled with deep bruising. My arms — God, they looked as though they had been snapped at the wrists.
I tested my fingers. I could move them. But everything else — I stared at my legs, and...oh God. I can't feel my legs. I can't—
Panic began to set in. Tears rose up. No. No! This wasn't fair! I did good — I was a hero! I helped people! What right did he have?! What right did Doom have?! His arrogance, his wounded pride — he thought that justified this?!
I felt the panic turn to anger. Pure, unfiltered rage. I wanted Doom broken and lying at my feet. I needed my body back — whole and functioning. I needed to become strong again. And I had an idea of exactly how to do that.
I looked around. There were several notes on the side table, all wishing me well. I raised my hand and was immediately punished by a white flash of pain. No. I refuse to stop because of this. I need to do this.
I reached for the edge of one note and pulled it down. I looked around — no pen. I was about to give up when I noticed my medical chart hanging on the side of the bed. A pen was sticking out of the edge.
I could feel my strength beginning to fail — I was going to slip back under, and I needed to be quick. My hand movement was sluggish, the pain fighting every motion. I could barely touch the tip of the pen, and instead of pulling it free, I kept nudging it further toward the edge.
I sighed. I closed my eyes and focused. I pressed my fingertip to the pen and felt my powers respond — sticking to the barrel. I eased it out slowly, holding it in my hand as I smiled. Victory.
I let my hand rest on top of the note. The hard part was done. I exhaled and began to write what was undoubtedly my worst handwriting to date.
'Sue: Mutant Spider project — pass: Felicia Parker A9+ Logan's blood. Hurry!'
Yes, my password was Felicia. Don't judge me.
I prayed Sue would understand the message. She and Reed were my only hope. I knew questions would come later about why I had been researching this project in the first place — but that was a problem for another time.
There was also the matter of my blood potentially becoming too toxic to handle, but I was counting on the regenerative properties of Logan's blood to heal the damage and reduce the toxicity, even if only partially. Right now, the rewards far outweighed the risks.
I let my head fall back against the pillow, my neck aching from even that small amount of movement. I reached out, found the nurse call button, and pressed it repeatedly as my eyes slowly closed.
Sleep pulled me under just as the door burst open and several people rushed in.
"What happened?!"
"He pressed the call button. He's awake."
"He isn't now."
"Wait — what's that?"
"Get the director. He needs to know about this."
I was asleep again — but I was aware of myself. It was as though something was slowly drawing me back up. My consciousness began to rise from the depths of the coma, and I could feel something building inside me.
Then suddenly my lungs ignited. It felt as though acid had been poured directly into my chest. I think my body lurched — I wasn't entirely sure. But I knew this sensation. I could only think one thing: thank you, Sue.
When I opened my eyes again, everything was different. No restrictions. My body was whole.
I pressed my hands down and pulled myself upright. I looked around — my neck was healed. My legs were healed. My entire body was healed. It was as though all of that agony had never happened.
I still had an IV line in my arm. I wouldn't be needing that. I pulled away all the monitoring wires, and the alarms went off immediately. They would all come running before long. I got to my feet and stretched out. I felt strong — properly strong. Good.
The door was thrown open and Richard ran in first. He looked haggard and hollow-eyed. He stared at me as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing. I smiled. "Hey, Dad."
"Peter!" He grabbed me into a fierce hug, crying into my shoulder. "Oh God, I was so worried. I thought — I thought I had lost you too."
"You're going to have to work a lot harder to be rid of me, Dad," I hugged him back. That word came easier now. This man had tried to knock Doom unconscious with a fire extinguisher. I may not be his son by birth, but he loved me like one — and I couldn't help but feel the same way about him.
A few staff arrived shortly after and began examining me. Richard — Dad, my dad — had apparently served as my attending physician throughout my recovery. He sat right next to me as they looked me over, declaring me in perfect health, which seemed to genuinely astound them.
Dad sighed and stood before me as I lay back on the bed. They had insisted I stay off my feet for the time being.
"Your blood accepted the mutant gene remarkably well," he said, making notes on his tablet. "It progressed exactly as your notes described. Sue infused Logan's blood into the radioactive compound and prepared it to your precise specifications. I still can't believe your blood has this sort of... side effect."
"Yeah, it does," I said, glancing past his shoulder at the nurses removing the IV and the cardiac monitors. "Maybe we should be more careful about what we discuss in company, Dad."
He followed my line of sight and smiled. "SHIELD took care of it. You have nothing to worry about from them."
"SHIELD isn't as airtight as we might like to believe," I studied the nurses' faces, committing them to memory. "Better safe than sorry."
Richard smiled. "Fair enough. Don't worry — I didn't let anyone get hold of your blood or any of your medical details. That's precisely why I became your attending physician rather than bringing someone in from outside."
I exhaled slowly. "Thank God for that. If people knew... it wouldn't just start an arms race. It would start a war."
"Yes, it would," Richard put down his notes and looked at me. "Which brings me to my next question: why were you researching this in the first place?"
"I needed to understand what happened to my body when Drew's blood was introduced into my system," I said — which was the truth. "I wasn't planning anything further than that," — which was not. I absolutely intended to understand how other people's powers interacted with my biology.
Richard sighed. "Right. Well — it's fortunate you did. Honestly, when Sue first found the project you were working on, we were worried you were planning something reckless."
I smirked. "Give it time, Dad. Where are we, anyway?"
"Avengers Tower," Richard explained. "Tony insisted we use it. He brought in the best equipment available — you're the only patient here right now."
That explained why it didn't smell like a hospital. "Guess it would be a bit difficult to explain why I healed so quickly if I had a roommate."
He smiled. "Quite. Anyway — you've been out for nearly a week. We administered the compound two days ago. It took one day for your body to adapt, and another for Logan's healing factor to take hold and complete the repair. How do you feel?"
I clenched my fists. "Strong." I paused, then frowned. I sniffed the air. "What's that smell?"
Dad raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"I can smell something." I sniffed again. "Something pleasant — like strawberries. And something sharp underneath. Stale beer, expensive cigars, and... coffee?"
The door opened and Logan and Jean walked in. I was surprised for a moment, then broke into a grin. "Hey! Long time no see!"
"Peter!" Jean cried out, rushing to my side. She threw her arms around my neck and pulled me close. "Oh thank God you're alright!"
"Told you he'd be fine, Jean. Takes a few hours for the healing factor to take hold," came Logan's rough voice.
"I'm fine, Jean," I told her as she slowly drew back. I met her blue eyes and immediately knew she was reading me. 'I promise. I'm fine.'
"You don't feel fine," she thought back. "You feel... angry."
I nodded. "Doom tried to kill me. Damn right I'm angry. We'll talk later — I promise." I pulled away and looked at Logan. "Thanks for this, Logan. I know it wasn't a fair thing to ask—"
"—Save it, kid," Logan raised a hand. "Before you and that mouth of yours came along, I didn't even know my own name. A few drops of blood is nothing."
I smiled. "Thanks." I turned to Jean. "I'm guessing the moment you heard, you came running?"
Jean went slightly pink. "Well — yeah. You are one of my closest friends."
"Running?" Logan let out a short laugh. "She tried to mind-control me into coming!"
"What?!" I stared at Jean.
"He looked like he was going to say no!" Jean defended herself.
I blinked and turned to Logan. "Were you?"
He shrugged. "Some stranger walked up and asked me for my blood. Of course I was going to think about it first."
I nodded. "Fair enough." I turned back to Jean and flicked her nose lightly. "No mind-controlling people. Are we clear? Unless they're genuinely awful individuals who enjoy making other people suffer — that's the only exception."
Jean smiled. "Yeah. Deal."
I smiled and looked back to Richard. "What did you tell Ben and May?"
"That there was an accident in the lab and you were hurt," Richard sighed. "They insisted on coming to see you, but I told them you were in intensive care and couldn't have visitors. Now that you've healed, though, I'm not entirely sure what I can tell them."
I chuckled. "We'll figure something out." I grew more serious. "What about the others? Are Reed and Ben alright?"
"First hour conscious and already worrying about everyone else," Logan snorted. "Last I heard, they're all fine."
"Tony arrived just as Doom was... hurting you," my dad said carefully. As he spoke, I noticed the medical instruments on the side table beginning to float upward. I reached across and took Jean's hand. Her eyes relaxed. Slowly, everything drifted back down.
"Sorry," she whispered.
"I'm fine, Jean," I said with a calm smile, before turning back to Richard. "And then?"
"He fought Doom. He lost roughly ten suits of armour in the process. Doom eventually retreated. Tony wanted to give chase, but he realised you were still critically injured. He brought you back here, and Bruce Banner stabilised you. Captain America pursued Doom into international waters. Unfortunately, Doom did... something unusual. Something we couldn't explain. And then he simply vanished."
"He just disappeared?" I asked, visibly thrown.
Richard nodded. "Yes."
Magic, I realised immediately. Wonderful. He knows sorcery. I sighed. "Alright. What happened next?"
"I managed to reach you in time and, with Banner's help, we stabilised you. A few days later you regained consciousness long enough to write that note. Then Sue was well enough to begin preparing the compound, and here we are."
"It caused a major incident, kid," Logan picked up. "Doom is the sovereign ruler of Latveria, and the country is treating his imprisonment in another dimension as an act of war. They're up in arms — not to mention the Avengers and the rest of the Western world who are furious about what was done to you."
"Furious?!" Jean cried. "That monster damn near killed him!"
Logan shrugged. "Either way, things are volatile right now. Fury has his hands full trying to prevent a global incident. It's not a pretty situation, kid."
I nodded and began looking at the get-well messages on the side table. I found wishes from a remarkable number of people — Cap, Tony, Bruce, Clint, Nat, Sue, Reed, Johnny, Ben, Jean, Scott, Logan, Storm, Xavier. Even Fury had sent one. But there was one person missing.
"What about Felicia?" I asked, looking at them. "Where is she?"
Jean's expression darkened immediately — and then, as her eyes settled on me, the anger faded and was replaced with a careful smile. "She's gone home. She was by your side all week. I insisted she go home and get some rest."
"Oh," I blinked. "Okay." Something was off. I looked at Jean with concern, but she wouldn't hold my gaze. Richard looked at her before sighing.
"Peter, perhaps you should get some rest," he said with a gentle smile. "Go on."
"I feel fine, Dad. Really, I—"
"—Please, Peter," Jean said quietly. "Just rest."
I looked at her and gave in. "Alright. But — can you call Felicia? Or text her? Let her know I'm fine."
Jean looked pained for a moment but nodded. She promised she would do just that as she, Logan, and my dad walked out. The moment the door clicked shut, I was out of the bed with my ear pressed against the door frame.
"Where is she?" I heard Jean hiss. "She's supposed to be here."
"She said she couldn't bear to see him like this," my dad sighed. "Poor girl."
"Poor nothing!" Jean snapped. "I know exactly what she was thinking. She's going to use Peter's near-death experience to break her father out. I can't believe she would do something like that!"
My eyes went wide. No. She can't be that reckless.
"Where is she now?" Logan asked.
"Somewhere in Texas," Jean said tightly. "That's all I could get."
"Thought I told you not to read people's minds, Jean," Logan said, a warning edge to his voice.
"I'm sorry, but no — when Peter was in the coma, I tried to bring him out of it with my powers and I couldn't. So I went back through his memories, and do you know what the last thing he thought was? 'Please, God, whoever's listening — please let her be safe.' He believed he was going to die, and all he could think about was her. But she can't even be here when he's in the hospital?!"
I stopped listening. I couldn't.
Why? Why wasn't she here? I could understand not wanting to waste a window of opportunity — but if she were in my position, I... no, that's a lie. If the situation were reversed, I wouldn't be here either. I'd be kicking in Doom's door with a crowbar and a grudge.
Texas. Her father. She was going to free him. Logan had mentioned SHIELD was stretched thin trying to prevent an international incident — this would be the perfect cover, the ideal moment to ensure no one came after Walter. I could see the logic, even if it stung. It was, in a way, brilliant of her to use an opportunity like this.
I needed to get to her before she did something irreversible. Texas — a flight? No. The moment I left, Fury would know exactly where I was heading. Maybe I could just drive. My car — last I could remember I'd given it to MJ, who was going to drive it to her acting class and straight home afterwards.
I looked around the room. No phone. None of my clothes or personal effects anywhere. This was Tony's tower — he would have had everything secured in his lab or in storage. I needed to get to it. I listened carefully at the door. No sound in the corridor. I eased the door open and slipped out.
Not many people around. Good. I kept moving until I spotted the elevator sign. I called it and stepped in, pressing the button labelled 'Lab.'
The doors opened onto the laboratory level and I walked out quickly. I passed a lab with a glass partition and stopped when I saw my suit laid out on the examination table inside. I smiled. Jackpot.
I walked up to the door and found it locked — a biometric scanner. A thumbprint, specifically. My thumb would do nothing here.
I stared at the scanner. Maybe if I lifted a latent print and transferred it? Was that how it worked? God. To have come this far and be stopped by a door.
"Here — allow me," I looked up and found Bruce standing there, smiling. I went still. He scanned his thumb and stepped aside. "After you."
I blinked. "Ah... hi."
Bruce smiled. "I know who you really are, Peter. Or should I say — Spider-Man?"
I blinked again. "Huh. So... you can keep a secret, right?"
Bruce chuckled. "Yes. Believe me — I know how to keep a secret."
I looked at him and grinned. "Thanks, Doc." I stepped inside and examined my suit. I hadn't fully registered the extent of the damage until now. The backpack housing my mechanical arms was gone. The helmet was in pieces. The gauntlets were shattered.
The chest armour appeared to be mostly intact, along with the leg plating — though both were caked in dried blood. I sighed. "This is going to take a great deal of work to repair."
"I'm surprised you even survived," Bruce said as he joined me, "the amount of blood you lost... Peter, it's a miracle Tony reached you when he did."
"Believe me, I know."
"The suit's power system is gone," he tapped the hexagonal arc reactor housing. "Tony took a look at it — got a little competitive, honestly. But his verdict was that it's beyond saving. In his words, 'it's like a condom with holes'."
I snorted. "Figured as much." I picked up the gauntlets and pried them open. Inside was my SHIELD-issue phone — completely shattered. "No luck there either."
"Do you need to make a call?" Bruce asked, producing his own mobile. "Here."
"Oh — thanks," I said, taking it.
"Who are you calling?" he asked.
"My girlfriend."
Bruce visibly braced himself. "Felicia, right?"
"Yeah. You know her?"
He swallowed. "Yes. We met. She had... quite a great deal to say. Formidable woman."
I grinned. "Damn right." I pressed the phone to my ear — but the call didn't connect. The number was switched off. "Damn it."
"What happened?"
"She's turned it off. Which means either she's run out of battery — which is unlikely — or she's in the middle of doing something very, very foolish."
"Something that would make Fury angry?" Bruce asked.
"Quite possibly. Why?"
"Because he looks very angry right now." Bruce looked past my shoulder. I turned and found Fury walking toward us with a thunderous expression that sent a wave of cold dread through me.
He walked in — the lock apparently not mattering to him in the slightest. He looked at me. "What in the hell does she think she's doing?!"
I held up both hands. "I honestly have no idea what you're referring to." That was a lie. Obviously.
"Don't play me for a fool, Spider!" Fury snapped. "Your girlfriend — the Black Cat! She just broke her father out. The greatest thief in the world is out of custody!"
I blinked. "I can honestly say I had no idea she had done it already." That, at least, was true. I hadn't expected her to move so quickly. Impressive time management.
"Really? You're telling me you had no idea she wanted to break her father out of prison?" Fury asked.
"No — that's not what I said," I replied. "I told you, about a week ago, that someone I suspected of being HYDRA had approached Felicia and offered to help free him. I did tell you. So what I'm asking you, Fury — is what the hell happened on your end?"
Fury held my gaze for a long moment. He growled. "She moved two nights ago. We weren't even informed of Walter's escape until yesterday evening. She's in the wind, Spider. Do you have any idea where she is?"
"No. Sorry," I told him.
Fury studied me in silence. "Fine. But if you happen to find her — contact us immediately. She's in serious trouble, but if we handle it quickly and quietly, she might just come out the other side of this with her freedom intact."
He looked at Banner, then at the table where my suit lay in ruins. Fury sighed. "I'm sorry we didn't get the bastard."
I nodded. "I know. What's the situation now?"
"Dangerous, to say the least," Fury growled. "Doom is claiming diplomatic immunity and keeping silent, but his people are whipped into a frenzy. They're framing his time trapped in another dimension — courtesy of Reed Richards and, apparently, you," he shot me a glare, "as grounds for war. Honestly, kid, I don't know what to expect."
"Did you call in the Avengers?" I asked.
"The Avengers are a safeguard against threats beyond humanity's capacity to address. They aren't a peacekeeping force or a weapon for America to deploy against foreign powers. They can't be seen engaging a sovereign nation. Believe me — the mere existence of the Avengers already makes people uneasy. Sending them after an enemy state would only make things considerably worse."
"But that doesn't mean we won't try," a second voice called out as Tony walked in with Steve just behind him. He spotted me and smiled. "Hey, kid. Glad you're in one piece. You're looking much better."
"And I have you to thank for that," I said. "Seriously, Tony — thank you."
"Oh, don't go soft on me. Always a pleasure walking in on a dictator beating a teenager half to death," he said, patting me on the shoulder.
"Not the time, Tony," Steve said flatly. Tony rolled his eyes.
"So what's happening with Doom?" Bruce asked. "Are we going to get him any time soon?"
"No," Steve said. "It's too complicated. The only realistic opportunity arises if he comes to us."
"Which is highly unlikely," Tony said, leaning over my ruined suit to examine it. "Do you want help making a new one?"
"No — well, yes," I sighed, rubbing my head. "But I'm not up to it just yet. Nearly dying tends to... leave an impression." I won't admit it openly, but there was a flicker of doubt inside me. A quiet fear that if I put the costume back on, the next time I was bleeding out there would be no one coming to pull me back.
"There's no shame in taking a break, Peter," Steve said, setting a hand on my shoulder. "The best of us need one sometimes."
The others said little, offering looks of quiet confidence instead. I nodded and stepped back, leaving them to their conversation.
"I have SHIELD monitoring everything," Fury said. "If Doom so much as considers leaving Latveria, we'll have him."
"He won't leave," Tony said. "Why would he? He's safe there. His people love him. Everything is in order. He won't come out — but that doesn't mean he'll sit still. No. He'll build his forces, and when he's certain he can beat us, he'll come back for another round."
"We need a contingency plan for when he does," Steve nodded. "Tony — those drones he deployed. Do you think you can counter them?"
Tony rubbed his eyes. They were heavy. He hadn't been sleeping. "I can try. But I can't guarantee it. Drones controlled by artificial intelligence... I've never fully trusted them."
"Thank you for the vote of confidence, sir," came JARVIS's voice over the intercom.
"Oh, be quiet," Tony smirked.
"We'll get this son of a bitch, Pete," Steve told me. "I promise."
I sighed. "Thanks. Oh — and one more thing. He's developed some kind of new ability."
"What kind?" Fury asked.
"He can manipulate pure energy," I told him. "It pours off him like water from an open tap, and he can shape it — construct barriers, fire concussive blasts. It's... unlike anything I've seen before." I stopped short of calling it magic. These men didn't believe in magic, and I wasn't in the mood to be dismissed.
"Brilliant. I'll add it to the list," Fury sighed.
"Peter — maybe it's time you headed back to bed," Bruce said. "You need the rest."
"I'm fine, Dr. Banner," I shrugged. "Logan's healing factor worked perfectly. I don't—"
"—Either way, it's better if you take it easy for a while," Steve insisted.
"Listen to the grown-ups, kid," Tony said with a smirk, patting my shoulder. "Trust us. We've got this."
I looked at them — and I saw it. The pity, quiet and unmistakable. They were sad for me. So was I. They had never quite seen me as a child before — only as Spider-Man. But seeing me now, like this... it reminded them that there was a sixteen-year-old behind the mask. Not a grown man.
I hated it. And I understood it all the same.
I walked away without a word. As I left the lab, I glanced back at the four of them talking. I needed to hear what they were saying. Suddenly my eyes seemed to... stretch. My eardrums felt as though they were being drawn inward. Then came a sharp, brief pitch — and I could hear them clearly.
"—He's not ready, Tony! You saw what Doom did to him! Do you think anyone could come back from that?!" Steve was saying.
"He has to be," Tony insisted.
"He's just a kid, Stark," Fury cut in.
"A kid who figured out over a year ago that if you don't do something about evil, you're just letting it go unchecked," Tony shot back. "What were you doing at fifteen, Fury? Boot camp? And you, Cap? I know what I was doing — making gadgets in my father's garage and failing to get the attention of the best-looking girl in school. But Peter? At fifteen he was holding off an alien invasion. He was out there saving lives. He's better than any of us. He can be greater than we ever could."
"He's still a child, Tony," Steve replied quietly. "He doesn't have to carry this. It isn't right. We're supposed to protect him — but look what happened. He shouldn't be Spider-Man anymore. We can't support it."
"So what — you're just going to shut him out?" Tony asked. "Come on, Fury. You can't seriously be considering this."
"I spoke with his father," Fury said quietly. "The man doesn't want this for his son."
"Because he's been such a model father—"
"Enough, Tony!" Steve cut in. "He may not have been there for Peter at first, but he is now. He has a right to be part of his son's life."
"And technically, since Peter is still a minor, his father retains legal guardianship," Fury confirmed. "He asked me to end Peter's training."
"And you're actually considering it?" Tony's voice went sharp as a blade.
"Perhaps."
"Fury — that kid was going out in a red jacket and hand-sewn web-shooters long before any of us even knew he existed. Do you really think withholding your permission is going to change a single thing? The first day he's out of here, he will be back in that suit. Mark my words. He's not someone you order around — you know this. Pulling his training doesn't make him safer. It just makes him more vulnerable."
"He's right," Bruce spoke up for the first time. "Peter is resilient. He won't be told what to do, and you know it, Fury. Don't push him away. He... he won't take it well."
The four men fell silent, weighing each other's words. I withdrew from the door frame before any of them could notice, and the strange sensation — that stretched, amplified hearing — faded as I moved away. A sharp, brief pressure, and then it was gone.
I stood in the corridor and thought it over. New sensory abilities. The smell from earlier — Jean and Logan before they entered the room. And now this. Logan's healing factor had clearly done more than just repair the damage. I'd need to look into that — but not now.
Right now I had a silver-haired idiot to find and keep safe.
Slipping out of Stark Tower was no small feat. Tony's security was thorough, I'd give him that. Getting in undetected would have been nearly impossible.
"Hey, JARVIS," I said as I stepped into the elevator.
"Yes, sir?" the AI responded.
"Which floor is the residential level?"
"The floor directly above you, sir. May I ask why?"
"No reason." I pressed the button.
The doors opened and I moved quickly. JARVIS would likely tell Tony within minutes, so I had to be fast. I found a door at the end of the corridor with Bruce's name on a small plaque — deadbolted. I focused, felt the familiar blue shift behind my eyes as my metal-bending ability activated, and disengaged the lock.
The room was tidy. One corner held a modest stack of books and research notes, but otherwise it was clean and ordered. I went to the wardrobe. There were plenty of jackets, dark trousers, and an impressive number of purple shirts — the man clearly had a preference.
I grabbed a pair of plain jeans and a green t-shirt printed with the Hulk's face on it — clearly a gift from Tony, given the questionable taste. With a new set of clothes on, I snagged a baseball cap and a spare pair of reading glasses from Bruce's desk. Disguise complete. I only wished I'd had better shoes than the loafers I was stuck with.
I couldn't use the lift again — JARVIS would flag it immediately. So I found the fire escape instead. I opened the door and looked down. A hundred floors, give or take.
I stepped onto the railing and dropped, landing two floors down in a crouch. Repeat. Over and over. I made it to ground level in under ten minutes and slipped out into a maintenance corridor.
Security was present everywhere. I clocked every camera and, drawing on everything Widow had drilled into me, moved through their blind spots without incident. The moment I stepped through the main doors onto the street, I heard alarms begin to sound faintly behind me.
I quickened my pace — not enough to draw attention. Outside, no one gave a second glance to a teenager in jeans walking out of Avengers Tower. God bless New York.
I adjusted the cap and popped the lenses out of the glasses so they wouldn't affect my vision. Then I turned my attention to finding cash. A well-dressed man was walking toward me — fine coat, leather briefcase. That would do.
I walked straight into him. "Oh God, I'm so sorry, sir!" I said, steadying him with both hands, patting down his coat and shoulders. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, yes, I'm quite fine," came a dry British accent as he brushed my hands away. "Watch where you're going."
"Right, sorry about that," I replied with a smile and walked on. The leather wallet was already in my palm — one firm adhesive contact, and not a second's fuss.
I turned into an alley and checked the contents. Three hundred dollars in notes. Not bad. I pocketed the cash and tossed the wallet back onto the pavement near the entrance — the man would find it.
My counter-surveillance training took over from there. All those hours with Nat and her partner hadn't just been drills in getting hit — they'd been lessons in tradecraft. I planted a string of false leads pointing toward the Baxter Building, then caught the first bus to Queens.
An hour later I was near Felicia's apartment. I ducked into a charity shop and changed into a black shirt, blue jeans, a jacket, and a fresh cap. I gave the old clothes to a man sleeping rough near the entrance and paid him fifty dollars to walk around the block three times wearing them.
By the time I rang the doorbell and stepped back to wait, I was confident even Fury would have a hard time tracking me quickly.
The door opened. Valerie looked out, then blinked in genuine surprise. "Peter! What a surprise. I thought you were in hospital!" She was smiling.
"Where is she?" I asked.
"What? Who?" Her acting was notably poor.
"Felicia." I pushed the door open, stepped past her, and looked around the flat. She wasn't here.
"She isn't here!" Valerie called after me. "And you can't just walk into someone's home like this! I could have you done for trespassing!"
"I know you're lying."
"How?" she asked, genuinely caught off guard.
"You remembered my name," I said. "And you smiled at me."
She looked embarrassed but quickly composed herself. "I don't know where my daughter is, Peter. But the moment I do—"
"—Mum." I turned around. Felicia was standing in the doorway, her father just behind her, one arm raised protectively. Her eyes met mine — broken and wide. "It's alright."
Valerie sighed and closed the front door as I walked in. Felicia winced as I moved toward her quickly. "Peter — I'm sorry. I couldn't wait any longer."
I took off the cap and looked at her. She looked guilty. Deeply, thoroughly guilty. Then I looked past her at Walter and held his gaze. "Your daughter is a criminal now."
Walter stiffened. "SHIELD won't—"
"—Fury is looking for her right now," I said quietly. "And if I'm smart enough to find my way here, so is he. You have perhaps half an hour — maybe less — before they arrive. So. What's it going to be, Walter?"
"He is not going anywhere!" Valerie called from beside her husband, taking his hand. "He will not be locked up again. Not ever!"
"And how do you intend to prevent it?" I asked her. "And I'm not just talking about Walter — Felicia is in serious trouble too."
"We know," Walter stepped forward. Behind him I could see bags packed and waiting by the wall. A sharp, cold pain struck my chest. He looked at me steadily. "That's why we're leaving. Right now."
"What?" I looked at Felicia. "Where?"
"It doesn't matter," she said with a shrug. "Anywhere."
"You're going to spend your life as a fugitive? Always running?!"
"I am a criminal!" Felicia snapped. "You knew that from the very beginning! You knew exactly who I was — so don't act surprised now!"
"What about your life here, Felicia?!" I asked. "What about Liz? MJ? Me? ...Us?"
"Peter..." She sounded genuinely pained. She looked at me, and I could see tears beginning to form. "I'm sorry. But he's my father, and I'm not letting him be taken away again."
"We need to move," Walter said, picking up several bags and passing one to Valerie. "If he found us, they won't be far behind."
"Felicia — come on," Valerie took her daughter by the arm and steered her toward the door.
"Peter," Felicia called back. I looked up. Tears were running down her face. "I'm sorry."
I said nothing as they left. I couldn't. If she stayed, they would take her — throw her into the same cell they'd kept Walter in. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let her go.
"Wait!" I ran out after them. They were already through the building entrance. I ran out and caught them on the pavement. Felicia looked back at me with confused, tear-filled eyes.
"I'm coming with you."
"What?" she asked.
"I'm coming with you," I said again. "Call MJ. Tell her to bring my car — we can use it. SHIELD won't be able to track it easily."
"Peter, you can't—"
"—Yes, I can." I thought briefly of everyone I'd be leaving behind. My dad. Jean. May, Ben, MJ, Liz. So many people. But it would be worth it. She was worth it.
"Peter—"
"—We don't have time," Walter said firmly. He looked at me, and there was something almost like regret in his eyes. "I'm sorry, son. But you can't come with us."
"There's nothing holding me back."
"You have family here, Peter," Felicia said, her voice breaking. "Your aunt. Your uncle. Your father finally came home to you."
"None of that matters," I told her. "I'm coming with you." You are the only one that matters to me. Everything else belongs to Peter Parker's world. She belongs to mine.
"Peter," Felicia smiled — a sad, trembling smile — and ran into my arms. I held her tightly. "Thank you."
"Always, Kitten," I whispered.
And then my spider-sense screamed.
I pulled back sharply — and a hand shot out and drove a taser directly into my ribs. I felt the electricity surge through every nerve in my body.
I hit the pavement. My body went rigid as a board. I looked up through blurred vision at the figure standing over me, silver hair catching the light, green eyes bright with tears. Beautiful. Impossibly beautiful.
She smiled down at me, and it was the saddest smile I had ever seen. "I can't let you do this, Peter. I'm sorry. I love you."
"W-why?" I managed to ask.
"Because as much as I need Peter Parker..." her face was beginning to fracture, "...this city needs Spider-Man." I tried to reach up and wipe away the tears running down her face. Then the taser hit me again.
"Moron," I whispered. She really was a moron. I was nothing without her — there was nobody else. Only her.
I felt my body begin to heal. The nerves slowly reknitting themselves. That was a new sensation.
I moved my arm. Then my fingers. Then I pushed myself upright and looked up just in time to watch her taxi disappear around the corner.
No. I tried to get to my feet and fell hard, catching my face on the pavement. I pushed myself up again. "No." I tried to walk and dropped again, legs still unreliable. I lay there on the cold ground and stared at the empty street.
She was gone. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair.
My Kitten. My Cat.
Why don't you understand? I would give up anything for you.
With Felicia:
The taxi dropped them at the airport, and they managed to make their way to a private runway. By the time night had fully fallen, their aircraft was ready to depart.
Felicia and her father stood side by side. The cold night wind curled her hair across her face, as though the air itself didn't wish to see her tears.
"Kitten..." Walter began, helpless in the face of his daughter's grief.
"Don't," she whispered. "Just... don't. That man is impossible."
Walter sighed quietly. "For what it's worth... he is one remarkable young man. Hard to believe the person who dismantled a HYDRA compound was just a teenager."
"He's more than that, Dad," Felicia whispered. "He's extraordinary."
"Are you reconsidering?" a new voice asked.
The two Hardys turned. Fury approached from the shadows, his one eye settling on Felicia. "If you want, I can make it appear as though you changed your mind. Pull the heat off you. You don't need to do this—"
"—No," Felicia said firmly. "I won't ever see Peter hurt like that again. I'll make certain of it." She paused. "...Is he alright?"
Fury exhaled slowly. "He's currently tearing through every camera feed he can access at JFK trying to find you. I doubt he will."
"That boy..." Walter shook his head slowly. "How did he manage to slip out of your hands? You were supposed to keep him occupied."
Fury shrugged. "We trained him too well. Widow was almost proud — five minutes and he already had our surveillance teams chasing their tails."
Felicia let out a short, quiet laugh. "And he told me he'd make a terrible spy."
A moment of silence settled over them before Fury broke it once more. "Your wife is coming with you? That wasn't part of the arrangement."
"I am not leaving my family again," Walter said with absolute finality. "Never again."
"How will you manage with a civilian in the field? She'll slow you down. You and your daughter are professionals — she is not."
Walter shrugged. "We'll manage. Now — do you have it?"
Fury reached into his coat and produced a document bearing both his official seal and the seal of the President of the United States. "Full immunity for Walter Hardy, contingent on his ability to provide sufficient evidence to facilitate the arrest or destruction of HYDRA."
Walter smiled as he took the paper and carefully stowed it away. "How long will this mission take, Fury?"
"As long as it takes," Felicia answered instead. Both men turned to her. She met their eyes steadily. "Until I am certain HYDRA will never again lay a hand on Peter. Until that day — we keep going."
"That could take years," Fury said.
"He'll wait for me. I know it." Her voice was quiet and certain. "He might hate me for a while. He might even try to move on. But I don't think he'll be able to — any more than I would be able to." She smiled — a small, aching smile. "Just like I wouldn't be able to either."
"Do you want me to pass him a message?" Fury offered.
Felicia shook her head. "No. It would look suspicious. If HYDRA is watching both of us, they need to believe I've truly gone rogue and cut all ties with him. I think I managed to convince Jean..." Her expression clouded. "And I have no doubt she despises me for it. But... God. What am I going to say to him when this is over? How do I even begin to explain all of this?"
Fury allowed himself a small smile. "That's a problem for another time. For now—" He reached into his coat and produced a slim file, which he handed to the elder Hardy. "This is your first assignment. Good luck. Cat. Black Cat."
Without another word, father and daughter boarded their private jet and climbed into the night sky, heading east toward Europe.
Fury watched the aircraft's tail lights grow small and disappear.
'Sorry, kid,' he thought. 'Forgive me.'