Liz got a lot of attention in school that day, thanks to Johnny's heroics the night before. Most people hadn't realised she was dating the Johnny Storm, but now they did.
I stuck to the sidelines. Liz and MJ tried to talk to me about helping Johnny take out the Vulture, but I just ignored them. I wasn't in the mood. And I couldn't tell them what they wanted to hear — that their hero was back.
After school ended, I drove down to the café Felicia and I used to go to. Where I had spent so much time with her. I sat down in the booth we shared, near the back. I ordered a cup and simply sat there, waiting. Maybe one day she would walk in through those doors and I would see her again. Maybe... but it didn't look like that was going to be today.
As I sipped my drink, though, someone else sat down across from me. I looked up and saw Nat. She was dressed in a heavy winter coat — it had been getting colder lately. She took off her glasses and set them down on the table beside her. "Hello, Peter."
I nodded. "Nat. Want something?"
"No," she replied. "You know why I'm here?"
"Johnny told you?" I asked.
"Adrian Toomes told me," she said. I raised an eyebrow, and she clarified, "He calls himself the Vulture."
"Ah," I smirked. "I was betting on Birdman."
Nat said nothing. We looked at each other in silence before she spoke. "Are you returning?"
"To the hero life?" I asked. She nodded. I scoffed. "Hell no." I sipped my drink, but slowly my curiosity got the better of me. "Tell me about Toomes."
"I thought you were out?"
"Call it curiosity," I replied.
Nat nodded. "He runs a secret arms trade, specialising in weapons made from Chitauri technology. They aren't very sophisticated, but they are powerful — and in the wrong hands, dangerous."
"Why did he come after Harry Osborn?"
"Norman Osborn has been trying to get his hands on alien tech ever since the Chitauri invasion," Nat spoke in a quiet tone. "He apparently hijacked and stole a large shipment from Toomes."
"And Toomes wanted Harry to make Norman give it back," I drew the logical conclusion.
Nat nodded. "Exactly."
"These weapons — how powerful are they?"
"Significant."
"What does S.H.I.E.L.D. have on Norman?"
"He's been trying to combine the Chitauri tech with Otto's solar energy concept. Tritium is very rare, so he plans on using the glowing purple rocks as a substitute."
"It would get him enough energy," I murmured. "And the fact that radiation causes it to burst outward means a chain reaction — creating more and more power. Otto's machine could run indefinitely."
Nat nodded. "Which is what we assumed as well."
I looked at her. She hadn't moved. I sighed. "I can't do it."
"I didn't ask you anything."
"Yes, you did," I sipped my drink. "If you hadn't wanted something, you would have walked out of here a long time ago — once you'd confirmed I wasn't going back into the red and black. You want me to make sure Osborn doesn't do anything reckless."
"No," she put her glasses back on and stood up.
"Good, because I won't do it!" I called after her as she walked away.
"I know," she replied, and walked out of the café.
I sighed. Crazy redhead. Just then my phone buzzed — a message from Osborn:
Peter, it has been a long time since we last spoke. I apologise for not keeping in touch.
I'm writing now to invite you to the Oscorp gala at my research facility outside the city. Otto's project has finally come to fruition, and we are ready to green-light the project and announce it to the public.
The event is in three days' time. It is a black-tie affair. I'm sure you will be interested in seeing just how far Oscorp's vision of the future will reach.
— Norman Osborn
He had sent me a personal invite this time. I sighed, put my phone away, and sipped my drink. I won't do this. Nope. No. No way. No, no, no...
But then again — if something does go wrong with Otto's experiment, it might cause the man to lose his mind entirely and become Doctor Octopus. Which would only make my life considerably harder.
No — what am I saying? Doc Ock's issues were with Spider-Man. I'm not Spider-Man, not any more. But... that means I'm effectively signing Rosey's death warrant. And I know I'll never forgive myself for that.
...Damn it all.
Three days later:
I drove up to the research facility, located out on Long Island. It was late — night had already fallen. I told May and Ben I was going out, that Harry had invited me to a party with his father. I told my dad the same thing.
From a distance it looked more like a resort than a research facility. I drove up to the entrance and was waved to a stop. I lowered the window.
The security guard walked up. "Name and ID, please."
"Pete Parker." I took out my driver's licence and handed it to him. As he ran the card and checked my name against the guest list, I looked around. I'd been wrong — only the exterior looked like a resort. Inside, it was nothing more than a vast hangar.
I caught my reflection in the window. I still couldn't believe I was wearing a tuxedo. I sighed and adjusted my bow tie. When I told my dad it was black tie, he had insisted on getting me a new suit. I didn't want him to, but he refused to hear otherwise. He said: "It's a father's job to get his son a suit. If I can't at least do that, what good am I?"
It was nothing extravagant — plain and simple. I had a small waistcoat underneath, inside which I'd hidden my web-shooters. I didn't know exactly why I'd brought them along. I just had.
"Alright, you're clear to proceed, sir," the guard returned, handing back my licence. "Go straight through and hand your car to the valet."
"Thanks," I said, driving inside. At the entrance, a valet approached to take my keys. "No need," I told him. "Doc, find yourself a spot."
"Yes, Peter," my car's AI replied as it drove itself off toward the nearest parking area. People nearby stared and whispered. A few even tried to film it, but it was already gone. I ignored them and walked inside.
In the centre of the hangar stood a giant version of Otto's original device. I gulped. I did not like the look of this. The last time I'd seen one of these machines... well, in another life it had nearly taken all of New York with it.
Tables had been set up throughout the space, and it was packed with people — elaborate gowns, champagne, polished shoes. A woman in a striking red dress walked past. I looked away. Moving on.
I scanned the room: reporters, people of influence, and what looked unmistakably like private security positioned at key points. Was Norman expecting trouble?
"Peter!" I turned at the sound of the familiar voice. Otto and Rosey were walking toward me, both smiling warmly. "I was notified the moment you arrived! It is so good to see you!"
I smiled back. "Otto, Rosey — it's wonderful to see you both."
"And you, my young friend," Otto shook my hand firmly. "It is thanks to you that my project even reached this stage."
"Please — you give me too much credit," I chuckled.
"And you never give yourself enough," Otto insisted. "Your technology, in fact, is what allowed me to complete this in the first place."
"Really? How so?"
"Parker blood," Rosey clarified. "We used it to regulate the energy transfer. Without it — well, one can only imagine what might have happened."
"Ah — we aren't going to have a repeat of last time, are we?" I asked as gently as I could.
"Oh, absolutely not. I assure you, I have taken every precaution this time," Otto smiled before leaning in slightly. "And just to be certain, I had a third party review everything as well. All will be fine."
"Glad to hear it," I smiled. "Because I'm really not looking to become black hole food today."
Otto gave a hearty laugh. "Ah, your humour never ceases to amuse me, Peter. Now — forgive us, but we really must continue making the rounds. Norman insists," he grumbled.
Rosey laughed. "Forgive him. He is not accustomed to talking with people below his IQ."
I shrugged. "Believe me, I know exactly how he feels."
Rosey smiled warmly. "Until later, Peter." She waved as they walked away.
I surveyed the room. So many people — all going out of their way to be seen. I didn't spot anyone I recognised, which was fine by me. The last thing I needed was a run-in with Harry or Flash tonight.
I moved through the crowd. People chatted and clinked glasses; I caught keywords drifting past — "Avengers," "S.H.I.E.L.D.," "Latveria."
I didn't think much of it. I found the bar quickly enough and ordered a Coke — I was driving home tonight. As I sipped it, though, a woman came and sat down beside me.
"Vodka with vanilla," she told the bartender. I looked at her. Pretty face. Blonde hair. Older — maybe thirty? She looked athletic. A gymnast, perhaps.
"You really shouldn't stare," she said.
"You had your pick of empty seats," I replied, "yet you chose to sit next to me."
"Doesn't mean I wanted you to stare."
"Fair enough — just a quick glance, then?" I asked.
She turned, looked me over, and took her drink. "Sorry. You're too young for me."
I shrugged. "It's fine. You're too thin for me anyway." I picked up my drink and moved on. I didn't know who that woman was, and I didn't particularly want to.
I waited for the better part of half an hour, growing increasingly impatient for the whole thing to be over. But then a stage was brought forward and Norman stepped up onto it.
The crowd cheered and applauded, and he thanked them all with practiced grace. He smiled out at the room. "Thank you all for being with us here tonight. As some of you know, Oscorp has been striving to lead the way in clean green energy for some time now. Sadly, Tony always seems to steal the spotlight on that particular front," people chuckled obligingly. "But now it is our turn. And while Tony's light for the future twinkles like the distant stars — ours burns like the sun." He paused for effect. "It has taken time to bring the right people on board. But I am glad to say that thanks to my team's tireless efforts, and the open minds of many good people, Oscorp will now be supplying fresh, clean energy to the entire city of New York!"
A wave of gasps, followed by rising applause.
"And we begin that promise tonight! When my lead scientist, Otto Octavius, activates this machine, the energy delivered to this city will come from this facility alone — running indefinitely for at least one hundred years! So, without further ado — Otto! Bring us to the future!"
I'll give the man this much — he is one hell of a performer.
Otto took the stage, with Rosey right behind him. He said nothing. He removed his coat and handed it to his wife, revealing the four large mechanical arms attached to his back. He was still using the neural interface to connect his nervous system to the device. Not ideal.
Rosey stepped off stage and the platform began to rise slowly, lifting Otto upward. He spread his arms wide — they moved with complete independence, almost like living things. They reached downward. Rosey held up a small wooden box. One arm opened the lid while another reached inside and withdrew a glowing purple stone.
My eyes went wide. No.
I moved immediately, making my way toward Rosey. I watched as Otto placed the stone at the heart of the machine and initiated the startup sequence.
"You have to stop him," I told her.
Rosey blinked. "Peter? What are you—"
"That stone — where did it come from?" I asked, eyes fixed on the fusion reactor.
"Norman provided it. We tested it, Peter. It's safe, I promise," she said, reassuringly.
"No," I told her. "It's a ticking time bomb. Did you ever test it on this machine specifically?"
"We... no, not—"
"What the hell is going on?!" someone from the crowd called out.
I turned back to the machine. The stone had mutated, glowing an angry red like a dying star. Something was wrong. Suddenly it pulsed outward, sending a shockwave through the room that pushed people back and had hair standing on end.
"Rosey! I can't contain it — shut it down!" Otto cried out, his arms straining to hold back the miniature sun.
"Right!" Rosey turned and ran.
"Now!" I ran after her. She reached the control panel, but a violent flare of solar energy came surging toward her. My Spider-Sense fired — I didn't think, I just moved. I threw myself into her and shoved her clear of the blast.
The energy wave passed over us and scorched the floor where she had stood, blasting chunks of concrete into the air. I looked around. People were fleeing in every direction. I could see Osborn being rushed out by his personal security detail.
"Peter?" Rosey asked in confusion, then snapped back into focus. "We need to shut it down!"
"Right! Stay down!" I sprinted to the control panel and found the emergency cut-off. I threw the lever down. The magnetic stabilisers engaged immediately — but the reaction had already grown too large, too powerful. It wasn't going quietly.
A final discharge of energy hit me square on and sent me flying across the hangar. I regained control mid-air, back-flipped, and landed on my feet.
"Rosey — no!" Otto cried out as another energy wave swept toward his wife. He launched himself from the platform, his mechanical arms propelling him forward. He put himself between her and the blast.
"ARGH!" The metal arms superheated instantly. I watched in horror as they began to fuse to his spine.
"Otto!" Rosey screamed. He was hurled away and crashed into the hangar wall. Rosey scrambled to her feet and ran toward him.
The roof above Otto was collapsing. She was heading straight for it. I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out my web-shooters. I fired rapid bursts of web fluid, propping up sections of the ceiling and wall.
Rosey reached his side. "Otto? Otto — speak to me!" she cried.
"Rosey, we have to go! Right now!" I called out, reaching her side.
"Not without Otto!" she cried.
I grumbled, grabbed him, hauled him up across my shoulders in a fireman's carry, and dragged the two tonnes of metal arms along with him. "Then move!" I ordered.
She didn't question how I was carrying a man twice my size while dragging nearly two thousand pounds of metal. I don't think it registered.
We cleared the hangar just as the final surge of energy came blasting out. It threw both of us off our feet. I landed with Otto still on me — but Rosey went flying. She hit a tree headfirst. I heard it. Blood came quickly.
"No," I gasped, running to her. I held her up — she wasn't dead, just unconscious. "Rosey, wake up. Please." I looked around. "Someone — get a doctor!" No one responded. They were all running.
I pulled out my phone and dialled a number I knew by heart. It picked up almost immediately.
"Hello?"
"Tony — get S.H.I.E.L.D. down to Oscorp's research facility on Long Island. A star just went supernova. People are hurt and I don't know if the reactor's still active."
"I'll have them there immediately," he hung up.
I held Rosey close, making sure nothing more happened to her. I was so close to making a difference here. She was the reason Otto loses himself — one of them, anyway. If I could save her, I might still be able to save him.
A week later:
I looked down at Rosey. She looked almost peaceful.
The door opened and a woman walked in. The same blonde from the gala — the one at the bar. I had since learned her name: Agent Morse. Bobbi. S.H.I.E.L.D. had had the facility under surveillance, and she was the lead on the case.
"Did the doctors say when she'll wake up?" she asked.
"No," I told her. "She's in a coma. And it turns out there was already a blood clot forming in her brain before all of this — she had very little time left without knowing it. It's a miracle she's still here at all. Her mind has to heal first, then her body."
Bobbi nodded. "And why exactly are you here, Peter?"
I smiled. "I'm a friend. Otto's... in a bad way right now. He'd want someone here. The least I can do is look after her."
"Right," she looked at me with narrowed eyes. "Did you know? About the accident?"
I sighed. "You're not seriously suggesting I sabotaged this, are you?"
"No," she smiled. "So why so defensive?"
Compared to Nat — a master at controlling any conversation — this woman was an amateur. I sighed. "Listen, Agent Morse. As much as I'd like to be helpful, I can't give you what you're looking for."
"And why not?"
"It's above your current clearance," I told her.
"What?" she raised an eyebrow.
"Call Fury. Ask him about me. He'll groan and grumble, but he'll give you what you need. He's keeping vital information from you — get that first, and then you'll be able to see the whole picture." I patted her on the shoulder and left Rosey's room.
Barbara Morse. Mockingbird. Honestly, I was a little disappointed. This version of her was green — barely better than cannon fodder. But she was sharp. I'd give her that.
She didn't know I had worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. I didn't know why Fury was keeping that from her, but it was a waste of everyone's time. She was treating me as her prime suspect, which only showed how much of the picture she was missing.
Bobbi's investigation was moving slowly. But honestly, I didn't care. My only responsibility here was making sure Rosey pulled through. Otto could still be reached — I had to believe that. Last I heard, he was being treated at a private facility.
As for Norman — I felt for him, in spite of everything. After the evacuation, it was confirmed that thirteen people had died during the demonstration. And since those people had been wealthy and well-connected, Norman was being sued by nearly all of them.
The press called it the trial of the century. I just called it theatre. He was being charged with intent to cause grievous harm — it wouldn't hold up in court. It had been an accident. They could strip him of money, but they couldn't put him away for long.
I drove back to the Baxter Building and took the elevator upstairs. The structural integrity of the building had been fully restored, and for the past week the Fantastic Four had been bringing in equipment for the new labs. So far only mine and Johnny's had been set up, since ours had sustained the least damage during Doom's attack and needed the fewest replacements.
I walked into the now fully furnished lounge. "Hey, guys."
"Hey, Pete," Ben called out from his reinforced chair, reading his copy of Scientific American. "How's Rosey?"
"Still the same," I shrugged, taking off my coat. I looked out the window. It was snowing already. November was drawing to a close, and with it came the cold and grey of winter.
"Is she going to be alright?" Sue asked from a loveseat near the back of the room. She was curled up with a book, dressed in a blue sweater that matched her eyes.
"No idea," I replied, keeping it short. She nodded and returned to her reading. Ever since that kiss, neither of us quite knew how to act around each other. No one had mentioned it yet, but I figured it was only a matter of time.
I looked around the room. "Where's Johnny — with Liz?"
Ben scoffed. "Yup."
"And what about you, Ben? Is the doctor out of town?" I asked with a sly smile, pouring myself a black coffee.
"Betty's visiting her mother out of state," Ben grunted. "She'll be back by Christmas."
"Nice. Got her a present yet?"
"No... should I?"
"Oh, absolutely," Sue spoke up with a smile. "Get her... a book? I'm not sure."
"Oh, I know," I smirked. "Rock climbing gear."
"Peter!" Sue snapped.
"Ah — good one, kid," Ben chuckled. "Writing that down."
I smirked. "See, Sue? No harm done. Unlike Johnny, I'm actually funny." I turned to find a seat in the lounge — and stopped. The other sofa was buried under a pile of books, and apparently Johnny had been using the rest of the furniture as a personal heating pad, because every other seat had scorch marks in the rough shape of his backside.
I looked over at Sue. She'd noticed my dilemma and shifted along to make room. "Thanks," I told her stiffly, sitting down beside her. The loveseat left very little space between us. I sipped my coffee and glanced at the cover of her book. "To Kill a Mockingbird, huh?" I almost laughed. Considering I'd just spent the morning with a woman who would one day go by that very name.
Sue nodded. "Yeah — finally got round to it."
"A story where a man is persecuted for being different, and one person stands up to defend him," I said.
"Yeah," Sue sighed. "Too bad he's also a bigot."
I blinked. "What?"
Sue smiled. "Atticus Finch was prejudiced — but he was an even bigger believer in the law. So it's something of a contradiction."
"No kidding," I muttered, sipping my coffee.
"So, kid, any plans for the holidays?" Ben asked.
"Honestly? No," I sighed. "May and Ben are staying home. My dad's still with S.H.I.E.L.D., helping track down anyone he encountered through Wyndham. And I'm just... here."
"No you're not — you have us," Sue said quickly, before catching herself. We looked at each other. She blushed slightly and continued, "All of us. You can spend Christmas with us, if you'd like."
I smiled. "Thanks, Sue. I appreciate that. I might just take you up on it." She smiled softly and returned to her book.
I sat there for a while, just thinking. With Rosey in hospital, would Otto come for her? Would he look for his wife, or would he go after Norman — the man he blamed for destroying everything? What would he do?
I sighed. Why am I even thinking about this? It's not my problem anymore. Bobbi has this. She can sort it out.
Then a quiet voice in my head asked: Do you really believe that? Idiot.
I sighed. Even in my own head, I'm my own worst critic.
But I genuinely didn't know what I was supposed to do. Just put the mask back on the moment trouble appears? I don't feel that pull any more — that sense that every terrible thing is somehow my fault to fix. It's not my job. Not any more.
I got up and walked away. Sue looked up from her book. "Where are you going?"
"Lab. I need to keep busy — idle hands and all that," I called back.
I stepped into my lab and locked the door behind me. Almost everything that had been destroyed had been replaced. My terminal and computer were intact. The larger machine had to go, but all my files had been backed up, so I hadn't lost any work.
I turned everything on. The holographic blueprints for my latest project appeared before me immediately. A firearm — no larger than a Glock. But this one didn't fire bullets. It was the next generation of my EMP gun.
I had made several refinements. It had two settings: EMP mode, which fired a concentrated beam of magnetic energy capable of frying any circuit it touched; and a second mode that converted that magnetic energy into an electrical charge, allowing it to function as a high-powered stun weapon.
And I had built it with Otto in mind. In case he ever lost control.
Why?
I didn't have a clean answer for that.
I stared at the model for a long moment, then sighed. Might as well get on with it. I went around the lab, gathered my tools, and got to work.
I had a weapon to build.