I sat in my lab, working on my latest project.
A few days ago, someone — Gwen Stacy, I assumed — had come out to the world as Spider-Woman. And ever since then, I had been following her adventures closely. Needless to say... she needed work.
Though it wasn't her fault. She had no web-shooters, no tech, and not even proper armor. Just spandex, which while it did give me a few flattering angles to appreciate, did absolutely nothing to protect her. That was what had led me to put together Project: Spider-Gwen.
I built her a UMF suit, a custom pair of web-shooters complete with an SA, a retractable blade, and a magical totem that would boost her speed by a modest 1.5%. Pretty solid gear, honestly.
To that I added a book on self-confidence and about twenty handwritten pages covering how to assess and win against someone bigger and stronger than you — every trick I had ever picked up, and every joke or quip I'd found useful in the field.
I packed everything into a silver briefcase and sealed it with a digital lock set to a single password: Gwen's birthday.
I carried the case out to the kitchen, where Jean was making breakfast. Wanda sat nearby with a book, and Felicia was hunched over a portable SA terminal I had set up for her, looking something up.
I set the case on the table. Jean glanced up and raised an eyebrow. "And that is?"
"A starter kit for the new Spider," I grinned, leaning in to kiss her. "I figured she could use all the help she can get — and then some."
"Do you know who this girl actually is?" Wanda asked as Jean handed me a warm cup of black coffee.
"Thanks," I said, taking a sip. "Yes — or at least I have a strong idea. Multiple dimensions, remember? In one of them, Peter Parker never got bitten, never got powers. His girlfriend at the time got bit instead and became Spider-Woman. She wears the same costume, so I'm guessing it's the same person."
Jean raised an eyebrow. "When you say girlfriend... you don't mean Felicia or me, right?"
I shook my head. "No — a girl named Gwen Stacy. I actually met this world's version once. She helped me take down a seven-foot lizard that wanted to turn New York into Jurassic Park."
Felicia looked up slowly and raised an eyebrow. "And?"
"What?"
"And...?"
"Kitten..."
"Peter..."
"Fine, we may have kissed once or twice," I shrugged. "In my defense, it was right after Tyrone died and I wasn't in a great place. We weren't really together."
"Who's Tyrone?" Felicia asked, her voice going quiet. I realized then that I still hadn't told her everything that had happened while she was gone.
"It's not important right now," I said, waving it off — though the look on her face told me she didn't like that answer.
Jean smirked. "No need to be so defensive, Peter. It's not like you're in love with this girl... are you?"
I met her eyes and smiled. I sent out a gentle mental pulse carrying my real feelings. Jean caught it, and in a moment the worry I could smell on her washed away entirely. I leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I'll be back soon. Can you three hold down the sanctum for a few days?"
"So you can go meet your new protégée?" Wanda asked, amused.
"...Yes?"
"Isn't that your job?" the Scarlet Witch pressed.
I sighed. "Fine. What do you want?"
Wanda smirked. "I need your help researching a new spell — energy manipulation of probability."
I narrowed my eyes. "That's a dangerous branch of magic, Wanda." Not to mention it would one day become her specialty.
"I know," she said, "which is why I'm asking for your help. Well?"
"...Fine. We'll talk about it after I get back."
"What about us?!" Felicia cried out. "We want something too, you know!"
"A date?" I offered, glancing between the two of them.
Jean smiled slowly. "Well... we have never actually gone on one, have we? Just the three of us."
My eyes went wide. "Oh... you're right. I'm sorry — I never even thought about it—"
"Peter," Jean chuckled, "it's fine. You can make it up to us later. Go. You spend too much time in here and down in that lab." She sighed. "Though honestly, times like this make me miss school. Not the homework — but I do miss having friends. Going out."
"You know, if you want, you could enroll somewhere here," I said as I helped her set the plates out. "There are probably several decent schools in this area. If you're serious about it, you could finish your degree properly."
Wanda scoffed. "Sounds like a nightmare."
Felicia shrugged. "I wouldn't mind getting out of the house more, but there's no way I'm setting foot in a classroom again."
"You might surprise yourself," I said.
"And what about you, Mr. International Terrorist?" Jean asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, I am wanted in something like thirty countries," I smirked, "but I'm also a genius who had more than enough credits to graduate high school two years ago. The only reason I didn't was because Richard, Ben, and May all insisted I live a normal life."
"Didn't really go to plan, did it?" Jean snorted. "...You know what, though — I think it's a good idea. I can't stay cooped up in here all day. And if the sanctum does come under attack, Wanda and Felicia can handle the immediate response while I make my way back quickly enough... I'll think about it, Peter. Now go — the sooner you help this girl, the better."
"Right." I grabbed the briefcase, leaned down and kissed Jean on the cheek, then Felicia. "Stay safe, Birdie. Stay safe, Kitten. I'll be home as soon as I can."
"Nothing for me, Spider?" Wanda asked, openly amused.
"You wanted a kiss too?" I chuckled — at which point she very promptly flipped me off.
"Stay safe," Jean called.
"Of course," I nodded.
My suit shimmered and reshaped — blue jeans, a blue shirt with Captain America's shield printed on it, a large black jacket with a hood, steel-toed boots. The suit tucked my bag of infinite storage alongside my left jean pocket, and I stuffed the briefcase inside, freeing my hands. The finishing touch was a second-face program that reshaped my features into a slightly chubby older man with a five o'clock shadow.
I pulled out my sling ring and opened a portal to Central Park. I waved goodbye and stepped through, closing it behind me.
I looked around, tugged my collar up, and pushed my hood back. I buried my hands in my pockets and walked, keeping an eye out for anyone following.
Paranoia was a bitch.
"Sexy," I murmured, "where's Gwen Stacy working right now?"
"Empire State University," the AI replied. "After Curt Connors' arrest, she was recruited by a Dr. Miles Warren. She's working under him researching genetic engineering."
I narrowed my eyes. Miles Warren. Why did that name sound familiar? He might be a future Spider-Man villain — hard to be certain. Honestly, my memories of my past life were growing more distant with every month that passed.
"Find everything you can on Miles Warren — hack his laptop, his phone, his social media accounts. Find anything that suggests mental instability or that he's hiding something."
"Understood, Peter. I'll report back." Sexy cut off.
I took the subway to Brooklyn and made my way to ESU. The place wasn't bad, honestly — probably top ten on the East Coast. But it wasn't number one, which raised an obvious question. Why had Gwen — someone Sue Storm had personally expressed interest in hiring for the Baxter Foundation — settled for working here? She would never touch Oscorp, sure, but there was Stark, there were others. Something else was going on. I could feel it.
I got off at the closest stop and walked over. It was just past noon and the campus would be letting out for lunch. And knowing Gwen — who didn't get on well with her father and whose mother was dead — she wouldn't have packed anything. She'd be heading out.
The university itself was pleasant enough. High brick walls, iron gate, generous vegetation providing shade. The main building was impressive and the campus had a comfortable, lived-in feel, with students making the most of a warm afternoon.
I waited until the lunch rush began spilling out through the gates. Then I ducked into a coffee shop across the street, ordered a cappuccino, tipped the barista generously, and walked back out — just in time to see Gwen Stacy emerge from the campus gates.
I smiled, sipped my drink, and followed at a comfortable distance. I watched her pick up lunch from a Subway across the street and sit down alone. While she ate she kept checking her phone, typing and smiling. Texting someone, were we?
I found a public bench and sat, watching her and taking in the city I missed so deeply. I could visit from time to time, but there was nothing quite like actually living here.
Then a loud siren cut through the afternoon as a police car and a fire truck screamed past, heading north.
"Sexy?"
"An explosion at a residential address. Very loud — police are treating it as arson."
I turned. Gwen was already on her feet, shoving her food into her bag and ducking into an alley at speed. A few moments later, Spider-Woman was leaping from rooftop to rooftop, heading toward the smoke.
I smiled. Her priorities were straight.
I slipped into the nearest alley, made the roof in one jump, and followed. I hung back as we reached the burning building and watched her dive straight into the top floor without a moment's hesitation.
I rubbed the bridge of my nose. On one hand, brave — almost recklessly so. On the other, she didn't think. Because if she had, she would have spotted the water tank on the adjacent rooftop. With the strength she almost certainly had, she would have known exactly what to do with it.
Instead, I watched her come back out carrying a woman, walking headfirst down the wall, setting her down on the ground, and leaping straight back in. She brought out five people in total before the firefighters took over.
I watched her leap to a rooftop several blocks away, yank her mask off, and double over coughing — pushing the smoke out of her lungs. It was her, alright. Pixie hair, that upturned nose, and a smile bright enough to embarrass the sun as she watched the people she'd saved being loaded into ambulances.
Could I have done it better? Faster? Probably. But she had done it. And to me, for a beginner, that was enough.
I followed her back to campus and watched from the trees as she walked into her lab, pulled on a white coat, and went to work. She seemed happy. Good — after what happened with Connors, she needed it.
After classes ended I watched her return to a small, dingy single-room apartment, change into her costume, and climb out the window. I followed again. She stopped a mugging, a robbery, and an ATM thief before ten o'clock, then went home for a well-earned rest.
I stood back, genuinely impressed. She had spirit. Spunk. Attitude. Her jokes weren't in my league — but then, whose were?
Despite all that, I was still worried. Worried she didn't fully understand the weight of what she was picking up. The name Spider-Man had once been a title passed on freely. In this world, it was something else entirely — stained with my history, my acts of so-called terrorism. She needed to be certain before she committed to carrying it.
I decided to meet her tomorrow. Talk to her Spider to Spider.
But tonight — since I was already in town — I had a few other people to visit first.
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Hell's Kitchen:
"I swear! I don't know anything!" the crook screamed as he was pressed up against a brick wall, both kneecaps shattered and one arm broken, staring directly into the eyes of the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.
"You work for the Dominicons," the Devil growled. "Their drug operation has been expanding. You know something — so talk."
"Okay! Okay! There's a shipment coming in tomorrow night! Dock 12, near midnight — that's all I know, I swear!"
"Pray I don't come back." The Devil struck him once, cleanly, at the temple. The man folded and went down hard.
He looked around. He was in the center of a warehouse, ringed by the unconscious bodies of a dozen gang members. But he already knew he wasn't alone.
He listened carefully. Then smiled, and turned toward a large stack of wooden crates. "It's good to hear you again, Peter."
"Damn it!" I hissed, cutting my stealth mode. "I knew I should have added a silencing ward. And what's with using my real name, Devil?"
"It's hardly a secret anymore, is it?" He tossed a grappling hook up to the skylight and zipped himself to the roof. I followed.
"Good to see you too," I said, extending my hand. We shook. "You in town for long?"
"No. There's a new Spider in the city — I wanted to take a look." I gazed out over the neighborhood. The blocks I knew by heart.
"I heard about her. Works mainly out of Queens, yeah?"
I nodded. "Brilliant, but raw."
Matt nodded. "Do you know who she is?"
"Yeah."
"And?"
"And... I think she'll do just fine. It'll be tough, but I'll give her the rundown." I paused. "She's going to need a mentor."
"No. Absolutely not."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not spending half my nights teaching some kid when I could be stopping actual murders."
"Give her a chance, Matt. She's got heart — I can promise you that much."
The Devil grumbled, then sighed. "Fine. Fine. Whatever." A pause. "It's good to see you, Peter... New York hasn't been the same without you."
"Well, it hasn't fallen yet." I smiled. "I guess I have you to thank for that."
He snorted. "Maybe. Though Glider's been doing his part too."
That surprised me. "Really?"
"Not bad at all, actually. After you left, crime spiked for a while. Glider stepped up and helped fill the gap. He's not bad, Peter. You should talk to him — you owe him that much."
I sighed. "Yeah... I know. I will." I reached into my pocket and pulled out a folded note with the address to the New York sanctum written on it. "If you ever need anything — go here. Tell them you know me and that you need help. You won't be turned away."
Matt took the note. "Got it." A beat. "Any chance that's in braille?"
I smiled. "What do you take me for? Of course it is." I leaped forward, activated my thrusters, and blasted away into the night.
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Queens:
I already knew there would be fallout from my identity being revealed. But this... this felt unnecessarily cruel.
I stood in the middle of my old house in Queens, suit cloaked in stealth mode.
The house had seen better days. Windows smashed in. Walls covered in graffiti. 'Spider's Web.' 'Freak Show.' 'Traitor.' The northern side had been freshly painted over, covering most of a slur — just the tail end of it visible under the new coat. '—ing terrorist.' Some gang's idea of notoriety, probably. Either that, or a neighbor who remembered what this address used to mean.
Either way, someone was still trying to clean it up. And I was pretty sure I knew who.
The light in MJ's room was still on.
I smiled, crossed the yard, found the old tree, and climbed to the third branch. I sat there, quiet, and watched her.
She was bent over a math textbook, biting the end of a pen. She scribbled something, groaned, scratched it out, and shoved the book aside. Threw her hands up. Gave up.
I chuckled. Same old MJ.
She grabbed her phone and dialed. Whoever picked up answered in seconds. "I hate homework," MJ said. A pause. "No, that's because you got someone else to do it for you!" Another pause. "Whatever, Liz... Hey, are you free Friday? The new James Bond is out and I want to catch a showing... Yeah, of course Johnny's invited... No, you know Harry and I aren't like that. Yes, Liz... whatever, believe what you want."
I groaned quietly. Harry and MJ. Again. That girl never learned.
She walked to the window and looked out — straight at the branch where I was sitting. My heart skipped. For a moment I was certain she saw me. But her face gave nothing away, and after a breath she looked past me at the street below.
"Yeah... I miss him too, Liz," MJ sighed. "That stupid boy... wait, Johnny said what?!" She straightened up sharply. "He came back?! When?! A few months ago?! Why didn't he tell us?! For our protection?! What does that even mean?! Time travel?!"
I shook my head. Johnny Storm could never keep a secret for more than a week.
MJ groaned, rubbing her nose. "Fine, whatever. Peter will do what he always does — worry about everything and everyone except himself and the people who actually care about him. God, that boy is difficult to love..." a pause. "No, Liz, I didn't mean it like that! Would you stop?!" She went scarlet.
I rolled my eyes. She never would change.
I watched until she made plans with Liz, made another failed attempt at her homework, and finally turned off the light. The moment the room went dark, I left and headed for my last stop.
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Manhattan:
Harry Osborn — also known as the Glider — sailed through the city's night sky. It was getting late, pushing toward midnight, but he still had most of his daily patrol to finish.
He cut across toward Harlem. The neighborhood had gotten rougher lately. He'd heard rumors of some big-time operator consolidating power in the area — no name, no face yet. He hadn't found the thread to pull.
But then he looked up and saw something he hadn't expected to see inside the city limits ever again.
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With me:
I was standing on top of the Apollo Theater in a black hoodie and jeans, smiling as Harry's glider swept down toward me.
He touched down and jumped off, staring. "Peter? Is that really you?"
"Hey, Harry. It's been a while."
I felt the tension come off him in waves — anger, first, then something that settled into a reluctant calm. He sighed, reaching up to pull off his mask, and looked at me flatly. "What the hell are you doing back here? Do you have any idea how much danger you're in? If SHIELD found out—"
I snapped my fingers. Stealth mode. I vanished from his sight. Harry went very still, his eyes scanning the rooftop nervously — and then I reappeared exactly where I had been standing.
"Relax," I shrugged. "I have ways of disappearing when I need to. Anyway — I came to see you. I owe you an explanation."
"Yeah, you owe me — and Liz and MJ — an explanation!" Harry snapped. "Why didn't you tell me, Peter?! If you knew who I was, then why—"
"Because I didn't trust you," I said.
Harry flinched. The words landed like a punch. Then I kept going.
"Or rather — I didn't trust you then. Not until you proved that you could actually become what you wanted to be."
Harry blinked. "Why would you ever think I couldn't? I mean, I know I used to be an ass, but... we were close, Pete."
"I know," I said. "It wasn't you I didn't trust, Harry. It was the Green formula."
His eyes went wide. "How do you know about that?"
"A friend of mine comes out of a coma in better shape than ever and you think I wouldn't investigate?" I said flatly. "Come on. You know me. Are you experiencing any side effects?"
Harry swallowed and shook his head slowly. "No... Dad's always kept my doses down to around two milliliters a day — less than a quarter of the effective threshold."
"So he's not a fool. Good." I nodded. "And the addictive properties?"
"I get urges," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "But I manage." He looked at me steadily. "Peter — I know you probably think I'm just some junkie chasing a thrill. But since you left, I've stepped up. I have. I don't care if you believe me, but I'm not stopping. I don't care what you say — if you knew how many people I've—"
"I know," I said. "And I'm proud of the man you've become."
Harry stopped mid-sentence. He stared at me.
"What?"
"I understand what you went through, Harry. And I'm proud of how you've grown from it," I said. "You've earned my respect. I may not like the way your father operates — but I'm glad he gave you the chance to become the Glider."
We looked at each other for a long moment. Finally Harry let out a long breath.
"Damn it," he muttered. "I had a whole speech prepared."
I smiled. "I'm sure you'll find a use for it eventually. Now — what have I missed?"
Harry sighed. "Not a lot, in the grand scheme of things. After you went on the run, crime ticked up for a while, but Daredevil and I handled most of it. The only thing that was ever really newsworthy was the Shocker incident a few days back."
"And school?"
Harry smirked. "When people found out who you were, everything flipped upside down. They started going after MJ and Liz, trying to get information. Flash and I held most of them off — and what we didn't handle, the girls dealt with themselves." He paused. "Speaking of which — Flash completely changed after you left."
"Really?"
"Turned over a new leaf, if you can believe it. He realized what kind of person he'd been and became someone completely different. He's probably the most well-liked kid in school now — helps anyone who asks and never makes a thing of it. Your leaving hit him hard, Peter. Especially that speech about a new Age of Heroes."
I smiled. "Good." Then: "Speaking of heroes — have you run into the new girl yet?"
Harry scoffed. "Yeah. Caught her trying and failing to clear two blocks in a single leap. Would've broken her neck if I hadn't swooped in. I told her to take the costume off, but she refused."
I nodded. "Sounds familiar."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Now I know exactly how you felt dealing with me. Do you want me to have another talk with her? I told her not to use your symbol, but she said something that stuck with me."
"What did she say?"
Harry almost smiled. "She said — and I'm quoting — 'I'm not going to stand by and watch people get hurt. I have a responsibility to help if I can.' Now where do you suppose she picked that up?"
I chuckled. "I met her once before, you know."
"How?"
"Remember the Lizard?"
"Hard to forget a six-foot reptile."
"She helped me track him down. Put her life on the line without being asked." I paused. "She's a decent human being, Harry. At minimum."
"So you know who she is?"
"Yeah."
"And you approve?"
I sighed. "It's... complicated. Before I became what I am now, I would've said yes immediately. But the name Spider carries weight in this world — a weight I put on it. I need to know she's ready for that." I looked at him. "Harry — I can't stay long. Can you watch over her? Make sure she doesn't get herself killed?"
Harry was quiet for a moment. Then he sighed. "Yeah... okay. Fine." A pause. "Damn. I'm not even in college and I've already got all this on my plate."
I laughed. "People like us don't get to rest, Harry." My suit reshaped itself into the familiar black and white. "Stay safe. If you need me, ask the Devil — he knows how to reach me."
"Right." Harry extended his hand. "See you soon, Spider-Man."
I shook it. "And I you, Glider." And with that, I swung out into the city.