Post by Drake on Oct 1, 2014 14:27:41 GMT -5
#3: Regenesis Part 3
Only the Beginning
By Drake
Peter Parker ducked into a broom closet through a window outside Daily Bugle Communications’ headquarters. Landing with a resounding thud, probably drawing at least one or two odd glances outside the closet, Peter began to change out of his Spider-Man uniform and into his civvies. As he slipped on his last shoe, Peter pushed the door open, ending up tripping through the open doorway. Of course, he could have stopped himself, but that would have gone against his bumbling nerd identity.
Still, he probably could have fallen with a little more grace, instead ending up rather embarrassingly at the feet of Betty Brant, the Bugle’s beautiful secretary.
“Peter…” Betty began, both surprised and a bit amused, “…You were in the janitor’s closet?”
“I wasn’t in the…” Peter stood up, still standing in the doorway of the closet, and stopped himself before saying, “Oh, right. Yeah, I was.”
“…Why?”
“…Because I was looking for a…mop,” Peter looked down at a mop on the ground, something he’d knocked out with him, “Oh look! There one is!” Peter picked it up and forced a smile, “Awesome! Well, I better be going!” Peter tossed the mop back into the closet and closed the door, much to Betty’s amusement.
“Peter!” Betty called after him. The teen turned back around.
“Yeah?”
“How exactly did you get into the janitor’s closet?”
Peter grinned good-naturedly, “I’m Spider-Man and I swung in through an open window in order to hide my secret identity.”
Betty raised an eyebrow incredulously.
Peter shrugged, “I snuck in through the front entrance, and ended up in the janitor’s closet trying to hide from JJJ.”
“Ah,” Betty nodded, still unsure.
“Well, I should get going. Can’t hide forever!” Peter waved with a smile, and walked off towards J. Jonah Jameson’s office. As he neared it, the teen couldn’t help but overhear the racket inside. Jonah was rambling on about nothing in particular, and Robbie Robertson, JJJ’s second-in-command and the even to Jonah’s odd personality, shouted back. This ought to be good.
“Jonah, you can’t just…”
Peter knocked loudly. The room quieted. Robbie opened the door, exposing Jonah, hands on his hips, chewing a piece of nicotine gum, and a beautiful platinum blonde girl not much older than Peter. She was tall, elegant, and dare he think it—sexy!
“Peter…” Robbie began, before Jonah started up.
“Parker, you’re fired!”
“Really, boss? I think you’ll rescind that statement after you see these pix,” Peter swung his backpack off his shoulder and reached inside it to grab a few pictures of Spider-Man. He tossed them onto Jonah’s desk. The middle-aged man didn’t even look at them.
“Parker, you’re fired,” Jonah repeated. The blonde grinned mischievously.
Peter frowned, “Excuse me?”
“Are you deaf or stupid? You’re FIRED! Finished! Done for! Outta here!!” Jonah declared. Robbie stepped in between the two before Peter could respond.
“Now, listen, Peter, just give Jonah a chance to calm down and think this through…”
Jonah said, “I did think this through the minute Ms. Tardy—“
“Hardy,” the young woman interjected.
“That’s what I said!” JJJ retorted, before continuing, “As I was saying, the minute Ms. Hardy came in here with pictures of Spider-Man for half the price, I knew Parker was gonzo! It’s simple business, Robbie.”
“Pix of…what??” Peter exclaimed, stepping forward, “Mr. Jameson, with all due respect to Ms…”
“Felicia Hardy.” The woman said with a grin.
“Felicia Hardy—there’s no way that they’re as good as mine!” Peter pointed to his clear, genuine pictures as proof.
“Really, kid?” Jonah pushed Robbie aside and shoved a picture into Peter’s face. Indeed, it was just as good as any he’d given to Jonah.
“But—but, they’ve gotta be photoshopped, or—“
“They’re genuine,” Felicia said. “If you’re as good as you seem to think you are, you’ll know I’m telling the truth.” She was. Damn it!
Peter clenched his hands into fists. This couldn’t be happening! He needed this money! He needed this job! Without it, how was he going to help Aunt May pay the bills? How was he gonna afford to pay for a date with Gwen Stacy?? …Well, maybe he was getting a little ahead of himself there, but still…
“How’d you do it?”
“Guess I’m just lucky,” Felicia teased.
“Can’t handle the fact that someone else figured out your trick, Parker?” Jonah cruelly teased.
“Believe me, there’s no way. That ‘trick’ is mine and mine alone,” Peter muttered, stepping away. The only way to get his job back would be to offer his pix for 45% of the original price. He couldn’t afford that. In fact, he had to wonder how Felicia could afford 50%! JJJ’s original price was cheap as is.
Robbie, seeing Peter’s predicament, tried to intervene, “Listen, Jonah, maybe you can keep Peter on as another freelancer for…”
“Enough—“
“He’s been working here for nearly a year!”
“I’ve owned the damn business for thirty years!”
“Jonah!”
“NO! There’s only room for one Spider-Man photographer here, and that’s currently occupied by our Miss Felicia Hardy!” Jonah finished, “Now, kid, get out!”
Peter gave Robbie one last look as if to say ‘it’s fine; I can handle it’ before turning and leaving the room. On his way out, Felicia gave him a weak apologetic wave before turning back to Jonah. As he began to think up horrible scenarios involving Felicia tripping and breaking her camera and both her legs, Peter’s spider sense went off. What could possibly be so…?
Coffee. A reporter spilled coffee on him as he left Jonah’s office. Hot coffee. Great. His luck couldn’t get any worse.
“With Jimmy gone, Jonah, you could at least give the kid a chance at the web design job…”
“Web design!” Peter swirled around, ignoring the apologies of the reporter who was currently attempting and failing to dab coffee off of his shirt. “I can do web design!”
JJJ frowned, “Parker, I said—“
“Please!” Peter ran back into the room, nearly tripping over his shoelaces that had since become untied. Weird, he always triple knotted them. Peter shook the thought away. “I’m really, really good with computers, and…”
“Errrgg….fine. Fine! But for half your…”
“Jonah…” Robbie began.
“I meant I’ll pay you in full,” JJJ muttered grimly, “Just get out before I change my mind.”
“Thank you, Mr. Jameson! Thank you so much!” Peter bowed his head over and over as he walked back out of JJJ’s office…again. As he left, Peter winked teasingly at Felicia. The game was on. This web design job was a start. Soon enough, whenever Felicia screwed up, Peter would be back on top…figuratively, of course. He would never dream of…of…wow, Felicia’s shirt was buttoned down really low. Was that even…
“Son of a—“ Peter tripped over his untied shoelaces and fell on his behind. No spider sense. No warning. What the hell was up with his luck today?
When Peter looked up, he found Felicia was staring right back down at him. She winked.
Something was off about this beautiful, talented, bust…er, beautiful girl. Peter was going to find out what. Or not. Maybe if she turned out to be nice then they could…
Peter pushed the thought away as he hurried out of the room.
“Just keep swimming, just keep swimming…”
------
“Just keep swimming,” Peter muttered, swinging through New York in his super-suit. He landed gently on the ground about a block from his Aunt’s house on the edge of New York City. After changing quickly into his civvies—rather stained civvies, he might add—Peter ran up the block and knocked on the front door of what had been his home for 18 years.
He could do this. He could keep going. Very little sleep, crappy luck, super villain rampage, pissed off returned-from-the-netherworld (as in Europe) best friend, and…well, actually, that about summed it up. Oh. He could also add that the super villain was his high school crush’s cousin, a troubled young man who kinda reminded Peter of Harry, actually, if Harry had been a jock.
Oh, and of course now he had to talk to his Aunt who was sure to grill him for nothing in particular, while at the same time babying him as if he was ten. What could he say? She was a complicated woman.
May opened up the front door with a smile, “Peter!”
“Hey.” The teen smiled back weakly and walked past May into the house. After managing to reach the living room couch, he threw his backpack to the ground and collapsed onto the sofa with a prolonged sigh.
“I take it your first day didn’t go so well.” May worriedly wondered, sitting next to Peter on the couch.
“Nah. I mean, I wouldn’t really call it my first day anyway. Class starts tomorrow after all.”
“I see...” May shifted in her seat, sensing her nephew’s negative mood, “Would you like something to drink? I just went to the grocery and—“
“I’m good. Thanks though,” Peter tried not to look at May, or say anything that might make her think of…
“So how did seeing Harry go?” That. Of course. She brought up that.
How do you put it gently that you completely ditched your long-lost best friend for a bank robbery? Of course, Peter couldn’t mention the robbery. So he went with, “It ended abruptly. Orientation and all. I…uh…”
“You left him, didn’t you?” May took a deep breath and held her head in her hands.
“No, I—“
“Peter, I thought you said this was going to stop. I thought you said it was over! The—the lying, and the ditching class, work, everything for—for whatever it is that you do!” May was on the verge of tears. Peter had to control this situation before it got too bad.
“Aunt May, please…” Peter put a hand on his aunt’s shoulder, gazing at her worriedly, “I’m trying. I just…I just…” He couldn’t tell her. Not yet. He’d promised Uncle Ben he would keep her safe. Involving her with his Spider-Man business would do the opposite.
“I should leave,” Peter stood up and slung his backpack over his shoulder. He began to walk towards the door, hating himself more with every step. May looked up as Peter opened up the door.
“Peter, wait…”
But he was gone, the door shut. May started at the door for a second, before turning her gaze to a picture planted on a coffee table in front of her. It was of Peter, Ben and herself, back when Peter was just starting high school. The three of them had taken a weekend out to a beach on the coast. They were dirty, and the ocean was naturally very cold, but God had for some reason graced them with a beautiful day. They’d been so happy then, so close…
May burst into tears.
Everything had changed, and she knew it would never, ever be the same again.
A Few Seconds Earlier
Peter hurried out of his Aunt’s house, closing the door before May could say anything. Damn it, damn it, DAMN IT! The teen threw his backpack to the ground, causing his costume and a half broken camera to burst out. He’d been meaning to get it fixed for weeks, but had been too busy spending his money on other things. New clothes for college, his aunt’s bills, and more supplies for web fluid. Damn it! Spider-Man was the reason all this shit went wrong. Ever since he’d been bitten by that damn spider…
“Nice hoodie.” Peter swiveled around, coming face to face with a tall, gorgeous redhead dressed in a jean jacket, t-shirt and jeans. He hadn’t heard her arrive, or—or whatever she did to just appear like that. Shit! The costume!
“You burn it or something?” The redhead walked down the steps of the house next door—it belonged to a Something Watson, one of May’s friends—and pointed to Peter’s Spider-Man hoodie, which had been singed from the fight with Mark Raxton. Peter rushed to put away the hoodie and the rest of the costume while the girl continued to approach him, looking at him amusedly. Pete swung the backpack over his shoulder and forced his best fake smile. It didn’t work. At all.
“I…uh…” Peter panicked for a response as the beautiful girl gazed at him expectantly.
“Whoa, it’s cool,” the redhead backed up, hands up to stop Peter from talking, “It’s totally your business. Don’t worry about it.” She paused, before holding out her hand. “Mary Jane Watson. You must be May’s nephew…Peter?”
“Yeah, Peter Benjamin Parker,” the teen mentally slapped himself, shaking Mary Jane’s hand, “I mean, just Peter, yeah. You’re…Mary Jane Watson? You said that, but I guess what I’m trying to say is…uh…”
“I’m Anna’s niece, yep.”
“Awesome! Or cool, or whatever,” Peter rubbed the back of his head embarrassedly, further disheveling his already disheveled hair. “So you…live here?”
“Nah, I was just stopping by to say hi. I’m actually attending ESU right now, and living in a dorm building there.” Mary Jane explained.
“Really? That’s awesome! So am I!”
“Which one?”
“What?”
“Which dorm?”
“Oh, uh…Jameson. You?”
“Harriet. So--”
Peter’s phone buzzed. It was a police alert message. Mark had been sighted in Manhattan. In fact, he’d been more than sighted; he was actively attacking civilians.
“Listen, MJ—I mean, Mary Jane, sorry,” Peter began to back away, “I’ve gotta go. It’s uh….”
“Hey, it’s totally understandable,” Mary Jane said, genuinely meaning it, “She’s a lucky one, I’m sure.”
“What? No—“
“Peter, it’s fine,” the redhead turned back to the house, before pausing and facing the other teen again.
Mary Jane smiled, “I get it, Tiger. I bet ya hit the jackpot.”
You have no idea, Peter thought, awe-struck. Who the hell was this Mary Jane Watson girl?
Now wasn’t the time. Peter shook the thoughts away. Angsting and hormonally driven fits of embarrassment and attraction needed to be the last things on his mind. He had to save Mark.
He was going to save Mark.
-------
There was no way he was gonna save Mark!
“Shittake mushrooms!” Spider-Man leaped over a burst of fire, narrowly escaping without being burned. He’d been forced to go into battle without his signature jacket, leaving him in just a black T-shirt. Peter made a mental note to grab a new jacket when he got back to his dorm room. He’d need it…if he even got out of there alive!
“LEAVE ME ALONE!” Mark roared, setting car and building after car and building on fire as he tried to hit Spider-Man with an onslaught of flames.
“Says the guy needlessly attacking people, including yours truly,” Spider-Man webbed up the top of a fire hydrant and pulled it off as he continued leaping away, causing water to erupt from the ground. He managed to dodge his way back to the hydrant, where he used the broken top to direct the jet of water to Mark, who was instantly knocked back and doused by the explosive current.
“There we go, Marky Mark. Now, if you wouldn’t mind leaving the Funky Bunch at home and playing nice…” Mark turned back into his fiery attack mode and charged Spider-Man. “Or you could charge me like a maniac. That works too.”
Spider-Man flipped over the enraged man and webbed him up. It wouldn’t last long, but it gave him a chance to talk.
“I won’t go back!” Mark shouted, already melting the webs.
“Back where? Mark, let me help you!” Spider-Man begged.
“Like I’ll listen to you! I know—I know that…what do I know? Where was I?” Mark stopped, the webs now fully melted, and gazed off into space.
“Mark, my name is Spider-Man. I was sent by your cousin, Liz, to help you. I swear to God, man, I just want to help.” Spider-Man took a step forward.
“Liz? She…she’s in California. Hollywood’s in California. Movies. I like movies…” Mark seemed as if he was about to cry, his lip quivering.
“Yeah? What movies do you like? I’m a fan of sci-fi, like Star Trek or Star Wars…” The hero continued slowly approaching Mark. He was just a few feet away now. This was it. He could calm him down, maybe get Mark to come with him….somewhere. He’d wing it.
“Star Wars…Darth Vader. Darth Vader is evil…like the man with the mask.” Uh oh. That wasn’t a good sign. “The green mask.” Not Peter, but still…
“Mark, please…”
“Evil like,” Mark looked up, expression fiery, “you.”
“Oh no.” He was too close. Mark raised his fist. There was no escaping this attack. This was it…
Mark fell back to the ground, unconscious, a bullet in his neck. No blood had been drawn, but…HOLY SHIT! Mark had been shot!
Spider-Man dived to Mark’s side, trying to touch him, to help him, but he was still fiery hot.
“No, no, no!” The teen, enraged, looked around for whoever’d shot Mark, “Who the hell did this??”
“Relax, he’s alive. I just iced him.”
Spider-Man looked up. A man in a black suit stood over Mark, an oddly shaped pistol in his hand. The webbed hero couldn’t clearly make out his face, the sun obscuring his vision.
“Who are you?” Spider-Man wondered, squinting, making out only the vaguest etchings of brown hair.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
And without another word, the man lifted up his pistol and fired. No spider sense. Nothing.
Everything went dark.