Back to GatefoldIssue #37 by Bryan Locke
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"ALL IN THE FAMILY"
Peter Parker was sure that his neighbors were awake. There was no way they couldn’t have been. He placed the formula in the microwave and hit ‘cook’.
May had been wailing for three hours now. She had been asleep for four hours before that. And before that, she had been wailing for two hours. It was now three AM and Peter had not done any sleeping, though he did feel like crying, too.
Shouldn’t my spider-sense warn me when she’s gonna wake up? Do ‘May’s teething pains’ not make the list with Doc Ock and Kraven as one of my worst nightmares?
Peter opened the microwave quickly, dabbed his finger in the formula. Ouch! Okay, one minute is thirty seconds too long.
He put the formula in the freezer, and made a mental note: Do NOT forget that!
Bounding across his apartment, Peter was in May’s room almost immediately. The apartment itself wasn’t especially big, but it was bigger than any apartment he had ever had to himself. SHIELD was certainly putting up nice bread for this place: two bedrooms, two baths, fully stocked kitchen, balcony, skylight, cleaning service, a/c, washer/dryer in the apartment! The list went on and on…he even had TiVo!
Peter scooped May into his arms, a movement that usually made the girl coo with awe at her father. Peter was not so lucky this night. Her wails seemed to actually increase.
“Okaaaay…” Peter smiled, rubbing his nose on his daughter’s, “It’s…clobberin’ time!”
Peter brought out a stuffed doll of the Fantastic Four’s Ben Grimm. He shook it at May (though her eyes were shut tight with streaming tears) and did his best impersonation:
“Whaddaya doin’, girl? Ya s’posed ta be sleepin’! Only mooks ‘round here tha’ don’ sleep is da ones tha’ wanna kill ya Pops!” He playfully rubbed the doll against her cheek.
May was not impressed. And she let Peter know.
“Okaaaay…” Peter dropped the Grimm doll and placed May carefully in the center of his bed. The girl only sat there, screaming. Peter put his hands on his hips, “You know, your mother was not nearly this difficult to put to sleep…”
Again, May did not appreciate her father’s wit.
“Okaaaay…” Peter dashed back into the kitchen, “Do I dare? I know that sugar will quiet her down…but she’ll be up the rest of the night. Hmm…decisions, decisions. I’m already going to be working like a zombie tomorrow…”
Then, Peter heard a strange sound for three o’clock in the morning: his door buzzer rang.
“Uh…” Peter said into his wall speaker, “hello?” He hoped he said that over May.
“Peter!” the voice was muffled and not instantly recognizable. But it was a woman.
“That’s my name. What’s yours?” Peter said back into the speaker.
“It’s Betty!”
Betty? Peter had to think for a second. The only Betty he knew was…Betty Brant, his unofficial-yet-official babysitter…and PR specialist for Peter’s buddies at the Heroes For Hire. Would a successful, beautiful woman like that be awake at three in the morning?
“Uh…Betty Brant?”
“Do you know any other Bettys? Let me in, Parker, it’s freezing out here!”
Peter grinned and buzzed Betty through the front door. It was still unexpected and he tried to clean up quickly before Betty knocked at his front door. He crammed some dishes in the washer, threw some pizza boxes in the fridge, and tried to gather up most of his and May’s laundry, which was strewn in random places across the apartment.
Too late. There was a knock at the door.
“Just a sec!” Peter threw the armload of laundry into an overfilled hamper in his closet. He had to force the closet door closed.
In another two bounds, he had May in his arms, and he was answering the front door.
Peter smiled when he saw Betty Brant. She looked as professional as he had ever seen her: cream-colored blouse (with more than enough cleavage), navy vest and jacket matching her skirt. Her heels pointed at the toe, and wrapped around her ankles. But the best part? Her hair. Betty’s short, auburn locks hooked sharply around her ears.
He stammered, “It…ah, it’s good to see you.”
Betty smirked at him, “Sure. I bet you love it when people show up at three AM.”
Peter shrugged and opened up the doorway for her to enter, “You can join the party. May and I are up. I was thinking of inviting the neighbors over.”
Betty took one step into the apartment and smiled at May. Softly, she poked May on the nose. “I saw your lights on from my cab and figured I wasn’t the only nighthawk around here…was I, Mayday?”
As if by magic, May quieted. Her green eyes blinked, and the red color to her face slowly began to fade. She spittled a bit.
“I cannot believe that.” Peter stared in amazement at his daughter, “You’ve just done what I and the entire Muppet army could not do.”
Betty shot Peter a wide smile. “I’ve got all kinds of magic up my sleeves, Mister Parker.”
Peter’s mouth gaped a little bit, and he shut it quickly. Words still couldn’t form on the end of his tongue. Luckily, Betty didn’t give him time to stammer or stutter. She briskly wrestled May from her father’s embrace. Now, there was a full smile on the baby’s face.
“Now, for my next trick,” Betty said, “I shall put this child to sleep! You have formula?”
“Formula!” Peter smacked his forehead and ran from Betty into the kitchen. He pulled the bottle from the freezer and dabbed a finger into the chilled concoction. “Hey. You still haven’t given a good reason why a beautiful woman walks around Manhattan in the middle of the night.”
“Don’t ask.,.” Betty called from the bedroom. “Hey there, cutie. Who’s the cutie? You are! Yes, that’s right! You are! And who’s this! It’s Ben Grimm! It’s clobberin’ time!”
Peter grinned at Betty’s impersonation of the Thing, then smiled fully when he heard his daughter’s laughter. He tapped the button on the microwave, “Did the H4H have you on a stakeout or something?”
“Something.*” Betty answered, her voice heavy, “I’m not exactly working with Heroes For Hire anymore. I’ve just been up late with Ben Urich…I’ve got my old place back at the Bugle for now.”
(*- check out the final issues of D. Golightly’s exciting H4H series for the fate of Betty’s old job- Bryan)
Peter could tell that if Betty came over to talk about something, this was not it. So he changed the subject, as he walked into the bedroom with the formula. “Good ol’ Ben Urich. Haven’t been ‘round the Bugle much lately though I admit.”
Betty took the formula, and placed it gently in May’s hands. “Yeah. I can imagine you’ve been busy.” She watched May feast upon the bottle. “Ben and I were invited to the Arthur Stacy Benefit dinner. I thought I might see you there.”
“Uh, no.” Peter scratched the back of his head. “The Stacys aren’t exactly friendly. They send me an invitation every year to the Benefit, though. I figure they do it to be polite.”
At that point, May made a whiny gurgle, blowing a few series of spit bubbles, and then giggling at the two gigantic figures leering over her. She pulled the bottle back up to her mouth to drain the rest, pausing only for short, cute breaths.
Peter smiled and whispered, “You should add ‘miracle worker’ to your resume.”
“That’s no miracle, Parker.” Betty gave him a rather disappointed smirk. “I’m probably the one person she’s most likely to recognize.”
Peter was taken aback a little. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
Betty quickly looked back at May and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Peter. I don’t mean to intrude. Especially after losing work recently, maybe I’m just overcompensating…I don’t know…” Betty absently rubbed her brow, “but I’ve been sitting for you for a while, even when I had a steady job, so, it doesn’t take a lot to realize you’re up to something, with someone…”
Peter’s head was spinning. He hated this. He hated lying to his friends. “Betty…I…”
“Peter,” Betty looked back at him, and it was plainly on her face how serious she was, “this is New York and you’re a single parent-slash-student.” She placed a warm hand on Peter’s cheek, “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t worried. You leave May with me for hours at a time, always on a random schedule. Sometimes you come back and you’re…lucid, and covered in bruises!”
Peter ran a hand through his hair and stammered. “Betty, please, just listen, really, I am flattered that you—”
Betty put her fingers to Peter’s lips, made him stop, “Peter, I’ve known you since your senior year of high school. You’ve grown into one of the most honest, responsible people I know, one of my best friends. I know when you’re lying.”
Peter was about to respond again but he saw that May had fallen asleep. He reached down into her crib and removed the bottle from her tiny grasp. Motioning with his head toward the living room, he led Betty that way.
After they both were out of the bedroom, Peter shut off the lights and closed the door. “Betty…” and words were still not coming to him.
“Peter,” Betty walked farther into the living room, “it’s three in the morning. Maybe I was wrong to say something.” She moved to the door.
“Wait!” Peter moved in between Betty and the door. She looked up at him with wide, expectant eyes. Peter sighed. “There is no way you’re taking a cab home at this hour. That futon folds out and, honestly, it’s more comfortable than my or May’s bed. I’ll get you some blankets.”
Betty let out a sigh, “Peter…if something’s wrong, you can tell me. I mean, after working for the Heroes-For-Hire, there’s no way I wouldn’t.” Repressed tears finally burst down her cheeks, but she wiped them quickly with her sleeve.
Peter grabbed Betty into a tight hug. After a few seconds, Betty grabbed him back. Peter spoke softly into her ear. “Thank you, for caring so much, Betty.”
And it was true. This kind of compassion, it had been such a long time since he had felt it last. Everything was going so well now: the apartment, his studies, his daughter…so why didn’t everything feel right?
Betty raised her chin, and Peter could see how damp her cheeks were. He brushed with his thumb at the swelling pools under her eye. She moved her arms around Peter’s neck.
Their lips pursed, and they even, slowly, so slowly, started to move closer…
“Stop.,.” Peter said quickly, and he raised his chin. He didn’t let go of Betty, he just pulled her into a hug again.
Betty let go of him. “I’m sorry.” She wiped her eyes and her cheeks quickly with her sleeves, “I really did not come over here for that. I swear. I—”
Peter stammered, “Yeah, of course! I mean, yeah, I know that. It was—”
“—just care a lot about you. I wouldn’t—”
“—nothing, really. Don’t worry, I know you just—”
“—want anything to happen to you like—”
“—don’t want to see what happened to Ned—”
“—what happened to Mary-Jane—”
Peter stopped talking at that point. Betty too.
“Ah geez.” Peter ran his hand through his hair again. “I think sleep is what the doctor ordered.”
Betty nodded. “Thanks for your futon. But I still…”
Peter had grabbed some blankets from a closet just next to the door. “I know. We’ll talk more in the morning. I promise. Just…good night, Betty.” He sighed.
“Good night, Peter,” Betty said and sat on the futon. She kicked off her heels and reclined. After fluffing a pillow twice, she threw a thin blanket over herself.
Her and Peter and were smiling at each other as Peter shut the door to his and May’s room behind him. After the door was shut, he leaned against the door, like he was trying to keep something out, and sighed hard. He gazed at his daughter.
I wanted to kiss her. I really did. Not Jill, or Felicia but…what am I thinking?
Peter decided to stop thinking. Maybe it was just because he was sleep-deprived. Everything will look better in the morning. A jump and Peter was in bed, not bothering to shed his clothes.
It felt like only minutes had passed when he was jolted from his slumber. There was a slight humming noise from the pocket of the hoody he was wearing. Looking at the face of his cell phone (another SHIELD extravagance), Peter saw he had been asleep for an hour and a half.
But who was this? At half past four? Only a few people had his new number. Aunt May and Aunt Anna, the Patillos, the Daily Bugle, Betty and--
“Felicia?” Peter read the caller ID and answered quickly, keeping his voice down. He didn’t want to wake either girl sleeping in his apartment.
The line was scratchy, and the voice could barely be heard, but it was Felicia’s. “Spider?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Is—crrrshh—you? H-rrrsh-lo?” the line was getting worse.
Peter tried to keep his voice to low, to wake neither woman in his apartment, “Felicia, I can’t make you out. If you can hear me, listen. I can’t leave. May’s fast asleep and I had an unexpected—Felicia? Felicia? Are you still there?”
Felicia’s voice was barely audible, but still there. “I ca—rzzzrrrkkk—ch but try to meet—tttkkkrrr—rooftop of the old Oscorp distribution plant—ttkkrrrsshhhzzzz.”
And the line went dead.
“Felicia?” Peter said it four more times. It was no use.
In recent weeks, he and Felicia had a number of successful stings on the New York underworld. Hammerhead, Hobgoblin, the Tinkerer*…all taken out. It was a level of success that Peter was happy to have going his way for a change. The Tinkerer especially had given Peter a sense of closure.
(*- this happened over the course of issues 30-36- rereadin’ Bryan)
There was no way he could leave Felicia for herself after everything so far. If she were okay, Peter would be gone for no more than twenty minutes. The old Oscorp distribution plant was close. Betty would still be with May if something happened…Peter didn’t want to think about what would happen if both woke up while he was gone.
He never left May like this but…if Felicia was in trouble…because she was his partner…
In the moonlight, Peter saw his daughter, still deep within her own imagination, and he ran his hand smoothly across her cheek. She made nary a peep when he whispered, “Sleep tight, darling, this won’t take but a minute.”
Peter went to the cabinet sitting next to his bed and pulled out his web-shooters.
The place had been abandoned for years. The whole plant was fenced in, with random crates and construction equipment littering the area around the building itself. That was five stories high, with a long flat roof, all of it clear in the wide, bright moonlight.
No spider-sense. So far so good. Peter estimated he hadn’t been gone ten minutes yet.
“Spider?”
The voice almost shocked him with its beauty. Peter smiled underneath his mask and turned around. “Hey there, kitten. I’ve told you to text me from now on. That line was bad. I didn’t know what to think. I left May, so I can’t—”
“Hang on.” Felicia stopped him. In the moonlight, the black of her costume seemed like paint barely keeping hold of her smooth frame. Her hair jumped softly in the wind. “I called you?”
Peter cocked his head, “Yeah. Just a couple minutes ago…”
Burning at the back of his scalp! A sensation he’d always recognize: spider-sense!
“Cat!” Peter was already in the air when he said it.
A split second was all the difference. Peter was twisting in mid-air, already judging his landing, when he saw Felicia’s nose explode as though a brick had flown through the air and made contact right in the middle of her face.
But there was nothing. Still the burning at the sides of his head, the tingling, was telling him otherwise. Felicia fell to her knees, grabbing her face. Peter knew she would only be seeing stars for the next crucial seconds.
He had fought invisible enemies before. Peter could save Felicia. He knew he could. He never got the chance with MJ or Jill or even poor Russ but…
Just trust the spider-sense.
Spider-Man touched down on the roof. Felicia was just to the left of him. Spider-sense…to the left!
He leapt, as fast as could, three feet to his left, crouched, swept the area around him. Contact!
There was an audible THUD! and Spider-Man wasted no time. His enemy was grounded. Impact webbing expanded over what looked like nothing at all. The air in between the webbing now began to shimmer and shake like the distance in a heat wave. It was humanoid.
The webbing started to collapse and ooze. Whoever this was, he was melting the impact webbing! Not losing any ground, Spidey started to punch at the ‘empty’ air. Contact!
Spider-Man grunted. “One of my fugly foes finally got blessed with invisibility? So I don’t have to look at him while I pummel his face? And my birthday’s not till August!”
Suddenly, the figure appeared fully. It was not one that Spidey recognized. It was sleek, and a stark white against the moonlight. His face was a blank mask.
“You don’t know me,” his enemy stated clearly, even with Spider-Man’s raised fist just inches from his face, “I am the Ghost. Not that it matters.”
Spider-sense!
The darkness was gone for an instant, replaced with a shattering light, emanating from the Ghost’s own suit. Spider-Man wasn’t fast enough to let go, but he did close his eyes, just barely missing the brunt of the flash.
Spider-sense! There was a smooth punch into his stomach. As the air escaped his lungs, Spider-Man felt another punch at his jaw.
“The Spider and the Cat.” The Ghost was cocky. “To think I’d heard so much about you. I was excited to come out of exile for this job. Five easy steps, done in less than a week: pirate phone signals throughout the city, find the calls between you two masked freakjobs, manipulate voice pattern, set trap. You can’t draw them up better.”
Peter thought of a strategy, barely noticing his enemy’s ego. He’s a techno-terrorist. No powers of his own. The suit is the key.
The Ghost was fully visible when he leaned over, grasping Spider-Man by his scalp. Peter threw out his hand against the Ghost’s chest. There were magnetic repulsors that tried to keep his hand away, but the hands of Spider-Man could cling to anything.
With one rip, Spider-Man tore the Ghost’s chestplate clean off, even as his spider-sense went crazy. The magnetic repulsors ruptured and sent Peter flying backward with sparks.
But Spider-Man caught himself. Rolling, as smoothly as he could, he sprung into an upward stance.
“Not so fast.” The Ghost was crackling with electricity, and fading in and out of visibility. What was plainly visible, however, was that he was holding Felicia two inches off the ground, by her neck. She was choking, spouting blood from her lips and nose.
“Do anything to her,” Spider-Man wagged a finger at him, “I rip off more of your chest.”
“Yield!” the Ghost shouted at him. “You want her to live, yield!”
Spider-Man dropped his hands to his hips, “Are you serious? You’ve just given away your strategy! You have to keep me alive, because you’re just a lackey, right? You’re capturing me for somebody else. You know, this is better executed in theory than—”
Spider-sense! But even then it was too late. The Ghost reached out at Spider-Man, a coil springing from the Ghost’s palm. It hit Spidey in the chest, right on the emblem.
“Too easy.” The Ghost closed his palm.
Volts of electricity erupted from the coil, sent searing through Spider-Man’s body. Peter felt his skin seize and smelled his costume singe. He saw May and Betty in his thoughts and hoped they would be safe.
Before Spider-Man lost consciousness, all he could feel was his spider-sense.
As Peter Parker regained consciousness, all he could feel was his spider-sense.
“Alright, Parker. Nap time’s over.”
His mask was removed. That was the next thing he noticed. Then, he saw Felicia. She wasn’t conscious, and rather slumped haphazardly against an adjacent wall. Dried blood was all over the bottom half of her face. Her limbs weren’t bound at all, as though she was in no risk of waking up.
“She’s alive. But only as a means to an end. Remember she’s expendable.”
The voice was just a painful as the burns on his chest, as the tingling in his head.
“Not you…again…” Peter was finding it hard to breathe, much less move. He could see that vibranium stocks bound his hands and feet.
His spider-sense kept screaming through his cranium.
Peter tenderly raised his head toward the figure he knew would be standing there, someone he hadn’t thought of in a long while.
“Peter,” Liz Osborn’s teeth were crooked and yellow, “it’s been a while.”
NEXT ISSUE: Liz Osborn is back! But is she the Rose Goblin? What does she have planned for Peter and Felicia? It ain’t what you think! And what about Betty and May back home?
May had been wailing for three hours now. She had been asleep for four hours before that. And before that, she had been wailing for two hours. It was now three AM and Peter had not done any sleeping, though he did feel like crying, too.
Shouldn’t my spider-sense warn me when she’s gonna wake up? Do ‘May’s teething pains’ not make the list with Doc Ock and Kraven as one of my worst nightmares?
Peter opened the microwave quickly, dabbed his finger in the formula. Ouch! Okay, one minute is thirty seconds too long.
He put the formula in the freezer, and made a mental note: Do NOT forget that!
Bounding across his apartment, Peter was in May’s room almost immediately. The apartment itself wasn’t especially big, but it was bigger than any apartment he had ever had to himself. SHIELD was certainly putting up nice bread for this place: two bedrooms, two baths, fully stocked kitchen, balcony, skylight, cleaning service, a/c, washer/dryer in the apartment! The list went on and on…he even had TiVo!
Peter scooped May into his arms, a movement that usually made the girl coo with awe at her father. Peter was not so lucky this night. Her wails seemed to actually increase.
“Okaaaay…” Peter smiled, rubbing his nose on his daughter’s, “It’s…clobberin’ time!”
Peter brought out a stuffed doll of the Fantastic Four’s Ben Grimm. He shook it at May (though her eyes were shut tight with streaming tears) and did his best impersonation:
“Whaddaya doin’, girl? Ya s’posed ta be sleepin’! Only mooks ‘round here tha’ don’ sleep is da ones tha’ wanna kill ya Pops!” He playfully rubbed the doll against her cheek.
May was not impressed. And she let Peter know.
“Okaaaay…” Peter dropped the Grimm doll and placed May carefully in the center of his bed. The girl only sat there, screaming. Peter put his hands on his hips, “You know, your mother was not nearly this difficult to put to sleep…”
Again, May did not appreciate her father’s wit.
“Okaaaay…” Peter dashed back into the kitchen, “Do I dare? I know that sugar will quiet her down…but she’ll be up the rest of the night. Hmm…decisions, decisions. I’m already going to be working like a zombie tomorrow…”
Then, Peter heard a strange sound for three o’clock in the morning: his door buzzer rang.
“Uh…” Peter said into his wall speaker, “hello?” He hoped he said that over May.
“Peter!” the voice was muffled and not instantly recognizable. But it was a woman.
“That’s my name. What’s yours?” Peter said back into the speaker.
“It’s Betty!”
Betty? Peter had to think for a second. The only Betty he knew was…Betty Brant, his unofficial-yet-official babysitter…and PR specialist for Peter’s buddies at the Heroes For Hire. Would a successful, beautiful woman like that be awake at three in the morning?
“Uh…Betty Brant?”
“Do you know any other Bettys? Let me in, Parker, it’s freezing out here!”
Peter grinned and buzzed Betty through the front door. It was still unexpected and he tried to clean up quickly before Betty knocked at his front door. He crammed some dishes in the washer, threw some pizza boxes in the fridge, and tried to gather up most of his and May’s laundry, which was strewn in random places across the apartment.
Too late. There was a knock at the door.
“Just a sec!” Peter threw the armload of laundry into an overfilled hamper in his closet. He had to force the closet door closed.
In another two bounds, he had May in his arms, and he was answering the front door.
Peter smiled when he saw Betty Brant. She looked as professional as he had ever seen her: cream-colored blouse (with more than enough cleavage), navy vest and jacket matching her skirt. Her heels pointed at the toe, and wrapped around her ankles. But the best part? Her hair. Betty’s short, auburn locks hooked sharply around her ears.
He stammered, “It…ah, it’s good to see you.”
Betty smirked at him, “Sure. I bet you love it when people show up at three AM.”
Peter shrugged and opened up the doorway for her to enter, “You can join the party. May and I are up. I was thinking of inviting the neighbors over.”
Betty took one step into the apartment and smiled at May. Softly, she poked May on the nose. “I saw your lights on from my cab and figured I wasn’t the only nighthawk around here…was I, Mayday?”
As if by magic, May quieted. Her green eyes blinked, and the red color to her face slowly began to fade. She spittled a bit.
“I cannot believe that.” Peter stared in amazement at his daughter, “You’ve just done what I and the entire Muppet army could not do.”
Betty shot Peter a wide smile. “I’ve got all kinds of magic up my sleeves, Mister Parker.”
Peter’s mouth gaped a little bit, and he shut it quickly. Words still couldn’t form on the end of his tongue. Luckily, Betty didn’t give him time to stammer or stutter. She briskly wrestled May from her father’s embrace. Now, there was a full smile on the baby’s face.
“Now, for my next trick,” Betty said, “I shall put this child to sleep! You have formula?”
“Formula!” Peter smacked his forehead and ran from Betty into the kitchen. He pulled the bottle from the freezer and dabbed a finger into the chilled concoction. “Hey. You still haven’t given a good reason why a beautiful woman walks around Manhattan in the middle of the night.”
“Don’t ask.,.” Betty called from the bedroom. “Hey there, cutie. Who’s the cutie? You are! Yes, that’s right! You are! And who’s this! It’s Ben Grimm! It’s clobberin’ time!”
Peter grinned at Betty’s impersonation of the Thing, then smiled fully when he heard his daughter’s laughter. He tapped the button on the microwave, “Did the H4H have you on a stakeout or something?”
“Something.*” Betty answered, her voice heavy, “I’m not exactly working with Heroes For Hire anymore. I’ve just been up late with Ben Urich…I’ve got my old place back at the Bugle for now.”
(*- check out the final issues of D. Golightly’s exciting H4H series for the fate of Betty’s old job- Bryan)
Peter could tell that if Betty came over to talk about something, this was not it. So he changed the subject, as he walked into the bedroom with the formula. “Good ol’ Ben Urich. Haven’t been ‘round the Bugle much lately though I admit.”
Betty took the formula, and placed it gently in May’s hands. “Yeah. I can imagine you’ve been busy.” She watched May feast upon the bottle. “Ben and I were invited to the Arthur Stacy Benefit dinner. I thought I might see you there.”
“Uh, no.” Peter scratched the back of his head. “The Stacys aren’t exactly friendly. They send me an invitation every year to the Benefit, though. I figure they do it to be polite.”
At that point, May made a whiny gurgle, blowing a few series of spit bubbles, and then giggling at the two gigantic figures leering over her. She pulled the bottle back up to her mouth to drain the rest, pausing only for short, cute breaths.
Peter smiled and whispered, “You should add ‘miracle worker’ to your resume.”
“That’s no miracle, Parker.” Betty gave him a rather disappointed smirk. “I’m probably the one person she’s most likely to recognize.”
Peter was taken aback a little. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
Betty quickly looked back at May and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Peter. I don’t mean to intrude. Especially after losing work recently, maybe I’m just overcompensating…I don’t know…” Betty absently rubbed her brow, “but I’ve been sitting for you for a while, even when I had a steady job, so, it doesn’t take a lot to realize you’re up to something, with someone…”
Peter’s head was spinning. He hated this. He hated lying to his friends. “Betty…I…”
“Peter,” Betty looked back at him, and it was plainly on her face how serious she was, “this is New York and you’re a single parent-slash-student.” She placed a warm hand on Peter’s cheek, “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t worried. You leave May with me for hours at a time, always on a random schedule. Sometimes you come back and you’re…lucid, and covered in bruises!”
Peter ran a hand through his hair and stammered. “Betty, please, just listen, really, I am flattered that you—”
Betty put her fingers to Peter’s lips, made him stop, “Peter, I’ve known you since your senior year of high school. You’ve grown into one of the most honest, responsible people I know, one of my best friends. I know when you’re lying.”
Peter was about to respond again but he saw that May had fallen asleep. He reached down into her crib and removed the bottle from her tiny grasp. Motioning with his head toward the living room, he led Betty that way.
After they both were out of the bedroom, Peter shut off the lights and closed the door. “Betty…” and words were still not coming to him.
“Peter,” Betty walked farther into the living room, “it’s three in the morning. Maybe I was wrong to say something.” She moved to the door.
“Wait!” Peter moved in between Betty and the door. She looked up at him with wide, expectant eyes. Peter sighed. “There is no way you’re taking a cab home at this hour. That futon folds out and, honestly, it’s more comfortable than my or May’s bed. I’ll get you some blankets.”
Betty let out a sigh, “Peter…if something’s wrong, you can tell me. I mean, after working for the Heroes-For-Hire, there’s no way I wouldn’t.” Repressed tears finally burst down her cheeks, but she wiped them quickly with her sleeve.
Peter grabbed Betty into a tight hug. After a few seconds, Betty grabbed him back. Peter spoke softly into her ear. “Thank you, for caring so much, Betty.”
And it was true. This kind of compassion, it had been such a long time since he had felt it last. Everything was going so well now: the apartment, his studies, his daughter…so why didn’t everything feel right?
Betty raised her chin, and Peter could see how damp her cheeks were. He brushed with his thumb at the swelling pools under her eye. She moved her arms around Peter’s neck.
Their lips pursed, and they even, slowly, so slowly, started to move closer…
“Stop.,.” Peter said quickly, and he raised his chin. He didn’t let go of Betty, he just pulled her into a hug again.
Betty let go of him. “I’m sorry.” She wiped her eyes and her cheeks quickly with her sleeves, “I really did not come over here for that. I swear. I—”
Peter stammered, “Yeah, of course! I mean, yeah, I know that. It was—”
“—just care a lot about you. I wouldn’t—”
“—nothing, really. Don’t worry, I know you just—”
“—want anything to happen to you like—”
“—don’t want to see what happened to Ned—”
“—what happened to Mary-Jane—”
Peter stopped talking at that point. Betty too.
“Ah geez.” Peter ran his hand through his hair again. “I think sleep is what the doctor ordered.”
Betty nodded. “Thanks for your futon. But I still…”
Peter had grabbed some blankets from a closet just next to the door. “I know. We’ll talk more in the morning. I promise. Just…good night, Betty.” He sighed.
“Good night, Peter,” Betty said and sat on the futon. She kicked off her heels and reclined. After fluffing a pillow twice, she threw a thin blanket over herself.
Her and Peter and were smiling at each other as Peter shut the door to his and May’s room behind him. After the door was shut, he leaned against the door, like he was trying to keep something out, and sighed hard. He gazed at his daughter.
I wanted to kiss her. I really did. Not Jill, or Felicia but…what am I thinking?
Peter decided to stop thinking. Maybe it was just because he was sleep-deprived. Everything will look better in the morning. A jump and Peter was in bed, not bothering to shed his clothes.
It felt like only minutes had passed when he was jolted from his slumber. There was a slight humming noise from the pocket of the hoody he was wearing. Looking at the face of his cell phone (another SHIELD extravagance), Peter saw he had been asleep for an hour and a half.
But who was this? At half past four? Only a few people had his new number. Aunt May and Aunt Anna, the Patillos, the Daily Bugle, Betty and--
“Felicia?” Peter read the caller ID and answered quickly, keeping his voice down. He didn’t want to wake either girl sleeping in his apartment.
The line was scratchy, and the voice could barely be heard, but it was Felicia’s. “Spider?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Is—crrrshh—you? H-rrrsh-lo?” the line was getting worse.
Peter tried to keep his voice to low, to wake neither woman in his apartment, “Felicia, I can’t make you out. If you can hear me, listen. I can’t leave. May’s fast asleep and I had an unexpected—Felicia? Felicia? Are you still there?”
Felicia’s voice was barely audible, but still there. “I ca—rzzzrrrkkk—ch but try to meet—tttkkkrrr—rooftop of the old Oscorp distribution plant—ttkkrrrsshhhzzzz.”
And the line went dead.
“Felicia?” Peter said it four more times. It was no use.
In recent weeks, he and Felicia had a number of successful stings on the New York underworld. Hammerhead, Hobgoblin, the Tinkerer*…all taken out. It was a level of success that Peter was happy to have going his way for a change. The Tinkerer especially had given Peter a sense of closure.
(*- this happened over the course of issues 30-36- rereadin’ Bryan)
There was no way he could leave Felicia for herself after everything so far. If she were okay, Peter would be gone for no more than twenty minutes. The old Oscorp distribution plant was close. Betty would still be with May if something happened…Peter didn’t want to think about what would happen if both woke up while he was gone.
He never left May like this but…if Felicia was in trouble…because she was his partner…
In the moonlight, Peter saw his daughter, still deep within her own imagination, and he ran his hand smoothly across her cheek. She made nary a peep when he whispered, “Sleep tight, darling, this won’t take but a minute.”
Peter went to the cabinet sitting next to his bed and pulled out his web-shooters.
The place had been abandoned for years. The whole plant was fenced in, with random crates and construction equipment littering the area around the building itself. That was five stories high, with a long flat roof, all of it clear in the wide, bright moonlight.
No spider-sense. So far so good. Peter estimated he hadn’t been gone ten minutes yet.
“Spider?”
The voice almost shocked him with its beauty. Peter smiled underneath his mask and turned around. “Hey there, kitten. I’ve told you to text me from now on. That line was bad. I didn’t know what to think. I left May, so I can’t—”
“Hang on.” Felicia stopped him. In the moonlight, the black of her costume seemed like paint barely keeping hold of her smooth frame. Her hair jumped softly in the wind. “I called you?”
Peter cocked his head, “Yeah. Just a couple minutes ago…”
Burning at the back of his scalp! A sensation he’d always recognize: spider-sense!
“Cat!” Peter was already in the air when he said it.
A split second was all the difference. Peter was twisting in mid-air, already judging his landing, when he saw Felicia’s nose explode as though a brick had flown through the air and made contact right in the middle of her face.
But there was nothing. Still the burning at the sides of his head, the tingling, was telling him otherwise. Felicia fell to her knees, grabbing her face. Peter knew she would only be seeing stars for the next crucial seconds.
He had fought invisible enemies before. Peter could save Felicia. He knew he could. He never got the chance with MJ or Jill or even poor Russ but…
Just trust the spider-sense.
Spider-Man touched down on the roof. Felicia was just to the left of him. Spider-sense…to the left!
He leapt, as fast as could, three feet to his left, crouched, swept the area around him. Contact!
There was an audible THUD! and Spider-Man wasted no time. His enemy was grounded. Impact webbing expanded over what looked like nothing at all. The air in between the webbing now began to shimmer and shake like the distance in a heat wave. It was humanoid.
The webbing started to collapse and ooze. Whoever this was, he was melting the impact webbing! Not losing any ground, Spidey started to punch at the ‘empty’ air. Contact!
Spider-Man grunted. “One of my fugly foes finally got blessed with invisibility? So I don’t have to look at him while I pummel his face? And my birthday’s not till August!”
Suddenly, the figure appeared fully. It was not one that Spidey recognized. It was sleek, and a stark white against the moonlight. His face was a blank mask.
“You don’t know me,” his enemy stated clearly, even with Spider-Man’s raised fist just inches from his face, “I am the Ghost. Not that it matters.”
Spider-sense!
The darkness was gone for an instant, replaced with a shattering light, emanating from the Ghost’s own suit. Spider-Man wasn’t fast enough to let go, but he did close his eyes, just barely missing the brunt of the flash.
Spider-sense! There was a smooth punch into his stomach. As the air escaped his lungs, Spider-Man felt another punch at his jaw.
“The Spider and the Cat.” The Ghost was cocky. “To think I’d heard so much about you. I was excited to come out of exile for this job. Five easy steps, done in less than a week: pirate phone signals throughout the city, find the calls between you two masked freakjobs, manipulate voice pattern, set trap. You can’t draw them up better.”
Peter thought of a strategy, barely noticing his enemy’s ego. He’s a techno-terrorist. No powers of his own. The suit is the key.
The Ghost was fully visible when he leaned over, grasping Spider-Man by his scalp. Peter threw out his hand against the Ghost’s chest. There were magnetic repulsors that tried to keep his hand away, but the hands of Spider-Man could cling to anything.
With one rip, Spider-Man tore the Ghost’s chestplate clean off, even as his spider-sense went crazy. The magnetic repulsors ruptured and sent Peter flying backward with sparks.
But Spider-Man caught himself. Rolling, as smoothly as he could, he sprung into an upward stance.
“Not so fast.” The Ghost was crackling with electricity, and fading in and out of visibility. What was plainly visible, however, was that he was holding Felicia two inches off the ground, by her neck. She was choking, spouting blood from her lips and nose.
“Do anything to her,” Spider-Man wagged a finger at him, “I rip off more of your chest.”
“Yield!” the Ghost shouted at him. “You want her to live, yield!”
Spider-Man dropped his hands to his hips, “Are you serious? You’ve just given away your strategy! You have to keep me alive, because you’re just a lackey, right? You’re capturing me for somebody else. You know, this is better executed in theory than—”
Spider-sense! But even then it was too late. The Ghost reached out at Spider-Man, a coil springing from the Ghost’s palm. It hit Spidey in the chest, right on the emblem.
“Too easy.” The Ghost closed his palm.
Volts of electricity erupted from the coil, sent searing through Spider-Man’s body. Peter felt his skin seize and smelled his costume singe. He saw May and Betty in his thoughts and hoped they would be safe.
Before Spider-Man lost consciousness, all he could feel was his spider-sense.
As Peter Parker regained consciousness, all he could feel was his spider-sense.
“Alright, Parker. Nap time’s over.”
His mask was removed. That was the next thing he noticed. Then, he saw Felicia. She wasn’t conscious, and rather slumped haphazardly against an adjacent wall. Dried blood was all over the bottom half of her face. Her limbs weren’t bound at all, as though she was in no risk of waking up.
“She’s alive. But only as a means to an end. Remember she’s expendable.”
The voice was just a painful as the burns on his chest, as the tingling in his head.
“Not you…again…” Peter was finding it hard to breathe, much less move. He could see that vibranium stocks bound his hands and feet.
His spider-sense kept screaming through his cranium.
Peter tenderly raised his head toward the figure he knew would be standing there, someone he hadn’t thought of in a long while.
“Peter,” Liz Osborn’s teeth were crooked and yellow, “it’s been a while.”
NEXT ISSUE: Liz Osborn is back! But is she the Rose Goblin? What does she have planned for Peter and Felicia? It ain’t what you think! And what about Betty and May back home?