One Universe: Season IV IC Thread

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"Ladies and gentelment of this great body," I say to the assembled body of the United Nations, "I know you and I have not seen eye-to-eye on many issues in the past, but I am here to bring your attention to a great threat to a certain population of the Earth. The population? Metahumans and mutant-kind. The threat? Lex Luthor."

The slight mummer is barely audible, but the mention of the American president's name at least has them talking. They have never been a fan of me or my rule, but have legitimized it after seeing how well I treat my people.

"As many of you know, President Luthor attacked my country and my people using his mechanical beast he calls Sentinels. Sentinels. Think of what that word means. A sentinel has been a protector of the people within the borders which it guards. A sentinel has been a shield. But Luthor's mechanical giants were used as swords on the day he attacked Kahndaq. Not only were they used as a weapon, I dare say these beasts were used as a weapon of mass destruction."

Another mummer rises up, "Please watch this video and decide whether or not my judgment is correct."

A screen lowers behind me, and scenes of that fateful day are shown. They watch as my people are slaughtered under the feet of the beasts, as their laser weaponry slices and burns homes and buildings. But one of the most telling signs is when Luthor's own team fights against them, "Look! Even those heroes that signed on to work under Luthor know this is wrong! They battle along with me to save innocent lives! This was followed by my unlawful capture and imprisonment by means forbidden under the Geneva Convention."

I turn off the video and continue, "And now a high ranking official in his cabinet has been fired for killing countless civilians with an android attack fabricated to mar the names of heroes such as Superman and Captain America."

"Please, ladies and gentlemen, if not for the lost innocents of Kahndaq, then for the countless metahumans in the world. Do not allow President Luthor to continue his anti-meta stance, or I fear we may be on a track towards another Holocaust."

As I step down from the podium, the room is split. Some applaud loudly, and some sit with somber faces. A split room is a victory for me, knowing that there is distrust of Luthor throughout the world.
 
:super:

"Lois, I don't think we're supposed to be here."

Ignoring me, Lois continues down the empty hallway, leading the way with her flashlight. Somehow, she roped me into helping her with this missing person case of hers. A renowned scientist and professor at Metropolis University, Milton Fine, disappeared two weeks ago. Lois met with representatives from the university to question them, but she was apparently unsatisfied with their story. Now, we're breaking into Fine's office to search for clues.

"Lois, can't we just come back in the morning and ask to see his office?" I ask as Lois comes to a stop.

"Don't you think I tried that, Smallville?" Lois whispers. "They don't want us tearing apart his personal space."

"And what, exactly, do you call this?"

Lois kneels down, shushing me. "Just stand guard, will you? Lois Lane has never met a lock she couldn't pick," she explains while taking a hairpin out of her hair.

My hearing tells me that there's not even a guard on this floor of the building, but I pretend to look around nervously, anyway. I hear a click and turn to see Lois slowly pushing the door open.

"See? What did I tell you? Now, come on."

I slip in behind her, closing the door slowly and quietly. I reach for the light switch, but Lois snaps her fingers at me.

"No lights," she says urgently. "And make sure that window shade is closed."

Lois begins circling the room as I make my way for Milton Fine's desk. Nothing seems out of order. I pick up a picture frame and hold it up to the light coming through the window. It's a picture of a man - I'm assuming Dr. Fine - and a cute little monkey. In the bottom corner of the picture, someone wrote in, "KOKO '03." I put the picture back where I found it and keep searching.

"Find anything interesting yet?"

"No," Lois answers. She runs her flashlight up and down Fine's bookshelf. I can tell by some of the titles that it's not for light reading. "What do you think the odds are that this guy actually read all of these?"

I continue walking along the opposite side of the room, looking at all the things Fine has collected over the years. Suddenly, I begin to feel a little nauseous. Sitting on top of a shelf, encased in glass, is a sliver of kryptonite. I back away from it before I start to feel any worse.

"You okay, Smallville? You look like you saw a ghost."

I shake my head. "I'm fine, Lois. I just...feel bad about being in here. Let's just find out what we can and get out of here."

I find a notebook sitting on a counter. Feeling curious, I flip it open casually. That's when I see them: the symbols. Kryptonian symbols, to be exact. I can hardly believe my eyes, but there's no denying them. I flip through several pages, and it's all more of the same. What were you up to, Fine?

I turn a page and find myself face to face with the familiar S-like crest of the House of El.

"I think you're right, Clark. We're not gaining anything by looking around here," Lois announces, breaking me from my trance. "Come on. The guard will probably be coming back around soon."

I close the notebook, following Lois out into the empty hallway once more. I wasn't right, Lois. Dr. Fine was definitely getting into something before his disappearance, and it involved Krypton somehow. Suddenly, finding the good doctor has become a priority on my list.
 
CYCLOPS

"Why didn't you tell me you had a brother?"

I look over my shoulder, instantly recognizing that tone. She's upset with me. "He's not a part of my life," I answer. "He hasn't been for a long time, and it was his choice." I turn around, suddenly feeling very defensive. "I haven't even seen him in five years! He knows I've been here. He just didn't care to visit, or even keep in touch!"

"But you're his older brother," Jean interjects.

I shake my head. "He made it very clear a long time ago that he didn't need me for that."

"Scott, what happened between you two?"

I let out a long sigh. This is a story I don't much enjoy telling. "After our parents died, it was just Alex and I. I was his older brother, so I had to look out for him. We were put in an orphanage." I sit down on the edge of my bed. "Alex didn't get along with the other kids. He was always picking fights, getting into trouble. He was having a rough time with it, you know? I mean, he was too young to understand why our parents were gone..."

Jean sits down on the bed next to me, still listening intently.

"I did the 'big brother' thing for a while, protecting him as best I could. Then, our mutant abilities manifested." I look Jean in the eye. This is the part of the story that every mutant can relate with. "We were two scared little kids with these incredible powers. The nuns who ran the orphanage didn't know what to do. The other kids were afraid of us. Some of them even hated us. And with my lack of control, I couldn't protect Alex as well anymore."

Jean puts her hand on my leg.

"Alex ran away. He didn't tell me he was going to do it, and he didn't tell me where he was going. I woke up one morning, and he was gone." I shake my head, remembering how alone I felt that day. I felt like I had failed as a brother. "The nuns were trying to contact an orphanage for mutants when I ran away, too. I lived on the streets for a while, teaching myself to operate blind, until I wound up at another orphanage in Alaska. That's where the Professor found me, and well, you know."

Jean waits for a moment before asking, "What happened next?"

I shrug. "That was it, more or less. Alex would track me down if he got in over his head with something, or if he needed something, or if he was hiding from someone. He pretended to care about me, but years would go by and we wouldn't talk." I look Jean in the eye, my voice unwavering now. "So I got used to living without him. My family is here."

Jean thinks for a second, stands up, and walks to the door. Before she leaves, she looks over her shoulder and says softly, "Your brother's here now, too, Scott. Maybe you should give him a chance before closing him out of your life."
 
Robin_logo.gif


The jet touches down in the cave and I jump out the cockpit. It's nearly three in the morning and I have school in nearly five hours. I sigh and unclasp my cape, remove my mask and scrape away the spirit gum that held it to my face.

"I trust everything went as planned on New York?" Alfred asks as he comes into the cave with a tray of sandwiches.

"Yep. Titans saved the day by saving a crime boss from being killed by another crime boss, ain't the world just peachy keen?"

I grab one of the sandwiches and take a massive bite out of it. I see Bruce's brooding form out the corner of my eye. I wolf down the rest of my sandwich before walking up to the chair where he's sitting, typing away furiously on the computer.

"You writing a book?"
 

The jet touches down in the cave and I jump out the cockpit. It's nearly three in the morning and I have school in nearly five hours. I sigh and unclasp my cape, remove my mask and scrape away the spirit gum that held it to my face.

"I trust everything went as planned on New York?" Alfred asks as he comes into the cave with a tray of sandwiches.

"Yep. Titans saved the day by saving a crime boss from being killed by another crime boss, ain't the world just peachy keen?"

I grab one of the sandwiches and take a massive bite out of it. I see Bruce's brooding form out the corner of my eye. I wolf down the rest of my sandwich before walking up to the chair where he's sitting, typing away furiously on the computer.

"You writing a book?"


I keep typing as Robin walks up to me.

"In a manner of speaking. I make sure to document all our case files, everything we have on the criminals we fight. You never know when it might be useful." I look over to him. "You should probably keep one of your own, for our cases and your work with the Titans."

I notice Robin frown slightly at the idea of more 'homework'. "Think of it as...updating your own personal wiki."
 
I keep typing as Robin walks up to me.

"In a manner of speaking. I make sure to document all our case files, everything we have on the criminals we fight. You never know when it might be useful." I look over to him. "You should probably keep one of your own, for our cases and your work with the Titans."

I notice Robin frown slightly at the idea of more 'homework'. "Think of it as...updating your own personal wiki."

"Good idea. Most of the guys we fought tonight are based out of New York, but you never know. The only thing criminals love more than money and killing is expaind their business. I'll see what I can do about that tomorrow after school. I still have some Trig homework I need to wrap up before I go to sleep."

I rub my eyes and stifle a yawn. "Speaking about New York guys, I was at a crime scene tonight before Spider-Man called me. Another burned business, third one this week. Managed to find a thumbprint in the doorframe and it belonged to this guy named Ox. He's part of this group called the Enforcers that mostly work in NYC. Based on their past crimes, they're probably extorting business owners. I swear, things seem to be getting worse out there almost every day."
 
"That's why we're out there. Although, it may be time to step things up. Try going at it in a different way..." my voice trails off as an idea starts playing out in my mind.

"What were we talking about? Trig homework. Need any help?"
 
"That's why we're out there. Although, it may be time to step things up. Try going at it in a different way..." my voice trails off as an idea starts playing out in my mind.

"What were we talking about? Trig homework. Need any help?"

"I'm good with it. Something about Math....I just seem to be better at it than English for some reason. I don't know."

I can tell Bruce is mulling something over by his faraway look in his eyes. "Well, I need to head upstairs and work on that homework. Time, tide, and Mrs. Evans' trig class wait for no man."
 
Ow

I attempt to get out of bed and that's all that goes through my mind. My whole body aches, but even morose in the places where Goblin's blades caught me. I feel like Apollo Creed after he fought Ivan Drago. Except just slightly more alive. And with the black and blue marks and swelling, I almost look like Carl Weathers.

Besides being...well...painful, the pain reminds me that last night wasn't just a bad dream. Goblin and I fought to the death last night, and I was the unwilling victor. And as Goblin lie gored by his own glider, I pulled off his mask to find my best friend's father staring back at me. Norman Osborn, the man who was a father figure for me the last three years has also been the man trying to kill me and take over New York's criminal element.

I now know exactly how Luke Skywalker felt in Empire Strikes Back.

Rolling slowly onto my side, I get out of bed and hobble into the upstairs hallway, which rouses Aunt May from her room, "Peter? Are you up? How are you feeling, dear?"

"I've been better, Aunt May," I groan as I look at myself in the mirror. "What time is it?"

"Almost one in the after noon," she replies as she enters the bathroom. "Peter, you look awful."

"Thanks Aunt May," I chuckle weakly. "Let's hope Gwen doesn't mind."

"She called you. As well as Harry," she responds, a look of sadness passing across her face. "Peter have you heard the news?"

What? That my best friend's dad was the monster who attacked you? That he's killed countless civilians? That he died in a fight with me last night? Yes Aunt May, I've heard.

"No, what's up?" Man, I really, really hate lying to her sometimes. And now is one of those times.

"Harry's father...Norman...he was the Green Goblin," she manages to get out through tears that start to form on her face. I walk over and give her a hug, "Go turn on the news."

I do as she says, gimping my way to the TV downstairs. As I flip it on, a news broadcaster greets me, "Repeating our top story today, Norman Osborne, industrial mogul and scientific genius, was secretly the super villain known as Green Goblin, and was found dead at the scene of a battle with Spider-man last night in New York City. When asked for a comment, both Oscorp representatives and Osborn's son Harry, who is now the majority stock holder in the company, declined to comment. The New York Police Department has told the station that they will actively be searching for Spider-man in order to question him about Mr. Osborn's death."

Terrific. Not that that is unexpected. But I was hoping my little conversation with Captain Stacy that I would be cleared. But obviously with the precedent that the commander in chief is setting, they aren't taking any chances.

Speaking of Mr. Clean, I wouldn't be surprised if he sent his goons after me as well.

I'm roused from my thoughts as my cellphone goes off from the table, "Hello?"

"Peter...can...can you just come hang out with me. I could use some company," Harry says weakly from the other end.

"Yea buddy, I'll be over in a few," I say. "Aunt May! Could you drive me to Harry's?"

This is no time for everyone's friendly neighborhood Spider-man to be out and about.

**********

"So, how are you?" I say after a few awkward moments of silence sitting on Harry's couch. The house is filled with flowers from sympathizers, though I can't believe Harry knows even half of who the people are.

But no family sit in the room with us, and it strikes me just how alone Harry is right now. Sure him and his father were never too close, but they were family. They were blood. And now he's got none. At least none that he knows of. At least when Uncle Ben died I had Aunt May. And it makes me realize I have to be here for Harry.

"How do you think I am?" he asks in a bit of a passive aggressive manor. "Sorry...it's been hard, Pete. He was all I had, you know?"

"I know, man. I know," I nod. I really don't know what to say in situations like this. I can come up with some snappy comment any day of the week as a giant rhino man is trying to crush my bones, but when trying to cheer up a friend I talk less then a Charlie Chaplin movie. Of course my difficulty is compounded by the fact that I watched him die.

"I bet your friend Spider-man is proud of himself." Harry says after more silence. "Got rid of one of his biggest problems. Bet he's real proud of himself."

And there it is. As if I couldn't feel any worse about myself, there it is. I was hoping Harry would realize that Spider-man isn't the killing kind, but in his anger he's forgotten that part. And now my best friend undoubtedly hates half of the person that I am.

"Harry...I don't think-"

"Don't you defend him, Peter," Harry snaps back. "It's his fault, Pete. There's no doubting that. He was there. He was the only other one that was there. I don't want you defending him because he pays your bills."

"But, Harry he doesn't kill people," I plead.

"Shut up, Peter! Shut up! He was the only other one there! Who else could have done it? Huh? Who!?" he gets enraged. When I sit there dumbfounded, he continues, "Tell me this. If you know who he was, would you tell me?"

No, I wouldn't Harry. Maybe if you were in another state of mind. Maybe if the state of things were different. But not now. And after last night, not ever.

"Yea, buddy. Of course I would."

And the lying continues.

"Well I'm going to find out who he is. And I'm going to make him pay," Harry responds with a fire in his eyes that scares even me.

**********

Harry Osborn sits at his father's old desk in the Oscorp corporate offices, pouring through paperwork and projects that have long been on ice, searching for something, anything he can use to get back at Spider-man. That is his complete and final goal from now on.

The masked vigilante had taken everything from him. Sure he had more money than he'd ever know what to do with, but money was no concern to him. He had no family. No one to turn to for help. Not even Peter, who had taken Gwen, and who was Spider-man's unofficial photographer.

As he scours the files, something catches his eyes. He opens the file up, and a smile stretches across his face. He places the file back down, the name ringing in his head.

Project: Scorpion

 
Nightcrawler

"Well...what do you think?" Amara says as she exits her room, dressed in a strapless black dress that rises just above her knees. I feel my mouth fall open, and I quickly make sure I close it.

Come on, Kurt. No need to be nervous.

"You look...man..." I say shaking my head. "Not zhat you look like a man. Just, vhell I am at a loss for words."

Smooth, elf-boy.

She giggles, "I know what you meant, Kurt. Shall we go meet up with Peter and Danielle?"

I smile and nod, and take her arm, shifting a little uneasily in my custom made suit. Tonight is the prom for the high school aged kids at the institute. Sure, we may not have a football team, or any sports teams for that matter, but the faculty likes to provide us with all the other activities that come with high school life.

Asking Amara wasn't hard, especially knowing how nervous Pete was to ask Danielle Moonstar. Danielle came to the Mansion a little while after Amara, and Pete has had a crush on her ever since. How a guy as big as him can be nervous, but hey, who am I to judge.

We reach Pete's room and find him and Danielle exiting it, Peter looking like some kind of Bond villain in his massive dress clothes, "Looking good, buddy. You buy zhat used from King Kong."

"Very funny, Kurt. Very funny," he chuckles back. "Shall we?"

We head towards the cafeteria on the first floor of the mansion to find it completely transformed to a ballroom-type area. On the stage in the far end of the room, Alison Blaire and her band, Dazzler, are performing on stage. A known mutant, Alison has become huge due to her mutant ability to turn sound waves into spectacular beams of light. I look up to find the air to be alive with the dancing music.

Dazzler1.jpg


As we enter the room, the girls head to the dance floor to look for friends, and Pete leans over to me, "Still want to be on a mission?"

"No," I respond, laughing. "I think I'm quite alright with this."
 
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"I hear that you provide a comprehensive service," the man in sunglasses said, leaning back in the bright sunlight.

The blonde haired mercenary sitting across the table nodded. The pair were sitting outside a small cafe in Venice, both dressed casually to suit the climate. Where the man with sunglasses had pale skin that had started to freckle with sunburn, the mercenary looked positively cool, although that may have been the steelly look in his eye. The sunglass wearing man was also wearing a brightly coloured hawaiian shirt that contrasted horribley with the surroundings, made all the more embarrassing by the sweat stains under his arms. In contrast the mercenary's white shirt was crisp and business like.

"I also hear that you're lucky enough to not be flagged by any of the intelligence agencies in the United States. A very rare level of luck indeed," sunglasses said, obviously uncomfortable. He looked as though he were more used to wearing plain business suits that civilian clothing, and it showed.

"I do what it takes to stay ahead of the competition," the mercenary said "You are aware of my rates?"

"Indeed I am. I have half in the pre-arranged dead drop of our choosing already, and the other half will be in a dead drop of your choice upon completion of the assignment," sunglasses said, smoothing back his mop of ginger hair.

"Very well. You have the dossier?" the mercenary asked. Sunglasses handed it over wordlessly, waiting whilst the blonde man perused it quickly. Once he was done, he handed the file back, both men under the understanding that it would be destroyed.

"May I ask who I am working for?" the mercenary asked. Sunglasses expression of easy contempt was replaced by a frown.

"Please, Mr Centino-" sunglasses said.

"Longshot," the mercenary interceded, his tone frosty.

"Longshot," Sunglasses said, shuddering at the garish name "I was under the impression that you are a professional,"

"Oh but I am," Longshot said, his eyes twinkling. Sunglasses smirked, and tapped the frames knowingly.

"Then you should know that for all intents and purposes, I am the one employing you," the man in the sunglasses said, getting up from his seat.

"And who are you?" Longshot asked, leaning back in his seat to observe the sunburnt red haired man.

"I," he said "am unimportant to the completion of this assignment. Good luck,"

The man stood and left.
 
"Captain Stacy," I say, surprising the man at his desk. Probably not a great thing to be here this late at night, but I need to talk to him. Thank god Wildcat has taught me some stealth moves at the Brownstone. "Sorry for the surprise, but I need to talk to you."

He nods before getting up and locking his office door. "What's on your mind...Spider-man?" he asks with a slight smile on his face. "You fixed your costume up pretty quickly."

"You should meet my tailor. He's fantastic," I allude to Reed, sighing inwardly at the terrible pun. "I need to know why the police want me for questioning. And whether or not they're really going to come after me."

He sighs himself, "Peter you have to realize that national pressure is on the department at this time. We've had calls from SHIELD and the President's own office, though I highly doubt Luthor cares one of his biggest rivals is dead. He just wants to prove a point. I'm not going to send my men after you. But I can't say the same for some of my colleagues."

I head back out towards the window and look back, "Thanks, Captain. I'll think of something to have this pass."

**********

"Mr. Osborn," Norman Osborn's old assistant, now Harry's, says from the doorway. "The commissioner is here."

"Please, send him in," Harry says, not looking up from the Project: Scorpion file. The police commissioner enters and Harry shakes his hand, "Commissioner, welcome. Please, have a seat."

"Harry, how are you? I was ecstatic to see you had a solution to our bug problem in the city. You probably realize how much pressure we're under from the state department to at least question him. Care to share what you've got," he says.

"I've got plans here for a battle suite that will give one of your men the ability to find and capture Spider-man. I found it when looking through my father's files, and I think it's our best bet," Harry responds. "Now, all I need from you is a volunteer."

"I've actually already got one," the commissioner smiles. "Detective! Get in here!"

After the commissioner yells, a lean but obviously powerful police detective enters. Harry can't help but see the determination in his eyes. He shakes Harry's hand and says, "Mr. Osborn, my name is Mac Gargan. I'm the best detective on the force, and I want to be the one to catch Spider-man."

"And why is that, Detective Gargan?" Harry asks with a smile.

"Because he's taken my job out of my hands. And I want him brought to justice for his actions last night."

"Very well, Mr. Gargan. Welcome to Project: Scorpion."
 
"I'm good with it. Something about Math....I just seem to be better at it than English for some reason. I don't know."

I can tell Bruce is mulling something over by his faraway look in his eyes. "Well, I need to head upstairs and work on that homework. Time, tide, and Mrs. Evans' trig class wait for no man."

"If you want, I could send you on a trip around the world for intense training by unforgiving sensei's and teachers. Should only take a year. Two, at most."
 
:super:

After saying goodnight to Lois at the Planet, I slip away to the MetU campus to check out Dr. Milton Fine's office once more. I saw his book of symbols. His disappearance is somehow connected to Krypton or Kryptonians. I have to get my hands on that book.

I find myself staring at the locked door to Fine's office. Unfortunately, I lack Lois's elegance when it comes to breaking-and-entering. I grip the doorknob tightly and turn it, hearing the lock snap. The door swings open, and I let myself inside.

I immediately make my way to Fine's desk, where the notebook lays untouched. As I reach for it, I hear footsteps in the hallway. I hold my breath and freeze in place. Once the footsteps pass, I pick up the notebook and begin flipping furiously through its pages.

Dr. Fine's writing is in a Kryptonian dialect that I don't fully understand, but I'm able to decipher enough of it.

The Brain Interactive Construct. Kandor. The House of El. Superman.

I stare at the first collection of symbols. The Brain Interactive Construct. It doesn't make sense to me, but I know a place where I can find the answer. Tucking the notebook inside my jacket, I speed off in the direction of the Fortress of Solitude.

***

Laying the notebook down gently on a crystalline surface, I cross the Fortress to the great Kryptonian supercomputer at its center. I pull out the central crystal from its console, and the clear pillar before me lights up like a screen.

"What is the Brain Interactive Construct?" I speak loudly.

The screen begins to swirl with glowing Kryptonian symbols. The information is processed almost immediately, and I have the answers I'm looking for.

The Brain Interactive Construct. BrainIAC, for short. Created on the planet Colu, it was a computer yet so much more. BrainIAC was integrated into the Kryptonian central computer at the capital city of Kandor. Within months, BrainIAC was connected to every computer on Krypton. Under BrainIAC, technology flourished. Data was shared and stored in astounding quantities. BrainIAC was presumed destroyed with Krypton.

What does a Kryptonian supercomputer have to do with a Metropolis professor?
 
"Dang, Parker, it looks like you got hit by a truck," Flash says as I walk by him in the hallway, with some genuine concern in his voice. Over the past few months, we've become sociable in public again. He's even stuck up for me a few times when his goons have been hassling me. Yup, I'm really moving up that social ladder. Yay me.

"Thanks, Flash," I nod to him and head straight for my locker, not really wanting to talk to anyone about the events of the other night. After my talk with Harry, he hasn't picked up his phone at all when either Gwen or I have called him. I hope it's just that he needs time to mourn and decompress. No matter what has happened in the past few months, he is still my best friend, and I do care about him.

As I enter my combo and open the locker, I hear a familiar, frustrated sigh come from behind me. I turn to find Gwen standing behind me in a neckbrace, obviously annoyed, "I look like such a nerd."

"No...you look great..." I say through a playful snicker. She smiles and punches me in the arm. "Ow...I'm still sore."

"You deserve it," she replies as the homeroom bell rings. "Any word from Harry?"

"No," I shake my head, looking down at my feet. I continue in a whisper, "I don't know if he's ever going to forgive me, Gwen. And I don't know if I blame him. It was his father. And he died fighting me. And all I could do was watch the life drain from his face. And now my best friend hates both of my halves. Spider-man because he thinks I killed his father, and me because I won't help him find Spider-man. I don't know what to do, Gwen."

She rubs my arm in a supporting way, and responds, "You'll figure it out eventually, Peter. If anyone can it's you. No one cares more about people than you do. Come on, let's get to class."

I shut my locker and follow her to homeroom, hoping that things will take a turn for the better sometime soon.

**********

Mac Gargan thought himself a good cop. At least that’s what he had told Harry. But as the younger Osborn looks over his record, he finds evidence to the contrary. The man had been investigated by Gotham Internal Affairs and Harvey Dent before transferring to the NYPD, and once he got here the investigations were dropped. Meaning he had someone in the department covering his tracks. There’s no mention of what he was investigated on, but Harry doesn’t care.

All he cares about is whether or not the man will be able to catch Spider-man. And from his lists of successful arrests and investigations, Harry has no doubt in his mind that this was the man he has been looking for. This is the man that will bring him Spider-man. This is the man that will bring him revenge.

He walks out of his office and heads towards the laboratory set up for Gargan’s transformation into the Project: Scorpion exoskeleton. His father’s invention and work here is brilliant, and Harry is excited to finally bring his father’s work to life. It’ll be just like the age old expression, killing two birds with one stone. Harry will be honoring his father’s legacy while also gaining revenge against his father’s killer.

As he passes through the doors to the laboratory, he finds the setup almost complete. One of the technicians approaches him, “Mr. Osborn, the instillation is almost complete. By next week we’ll show Stark Industries they’re not the only ones who can make body armor.”

“Yes, yes we will,” Harry smiles.
 
FFFTZZZZZZ

A burst of static on the TV set, muffled swearing then a blurred picture of a pair of blue eyes staring out from the hole of a balaclava. The man steps back, showing a bare concrete room and the blue-eyed man holding a pistol.

"Children of America, do not adjust your television sets. This is a live broadcast from the Brotherhood of Mutants. We speak to you today on a matter of great urgency for your people and for ours. A man named Alexander Luthor wishes to restrict the rights of the homo superior within the borders of America. He would have us sign our name down on a scrap of paper, so he can monitor and pry into our affairs. This cannot stand. Some of my brothers are willing to accept Luthor's decision concerning our lives. They live in the area of New York City referred to as 'Mutant Town'. They are led by this man,"

The blue-eyed man steps out of picture for a second, then returning dragging a bound figure wearing a mask resembling a grinning skull.

"He calls himself Xorn. We shall kill this man and his advisors unless our demands are met. Furthermore we have set a series of charges throughout Mutant Town. If our demands are not met, we shall detonate them, killing those of our brothers that would support the subjugation of our race. Our demands are simple; we demand the immediate resignation of President Luthor and the withdrawal of any plans for a Superhuman Registration Act. You have 4 hours. Then we shall carry out our threats on live television. Until then,"

The picture flickers for a second.

347910247_fee1f23feb_m.jpg


More static.
 
CYCLOPS


Jean and a few others are chaperoning the Prom for the older kids tonight, which leaves me by myself to keep an eye on the Mansion. Fortunately, most of the younger kids are keeping themselves busy, which makes my job easier. I can hear the music coming from the cafeteria. I wonder how Jean's doing.

As I approach the living room, I hear laughter. Familiar laughter. I turn the corner and see Alex sitting on the couch, talking to Magneto. Something inside me flares up, and I march towards them.

"Good evening, Scott," Magneto says with a smile. "Your brother was just telling me about your childhood together."

"I'd like a word with you," I say sternly.

Noticing the tone of my voice, Alex jumps in, "Woah, Scott! Chill out."

"Stay out of this." I glare at Magneto, who reluctantly nods. I lead him away from the couch so that Alex won't overhear. "I don't want you talking to my brother, do you understand me?" Before Magneto can respond, I continue, "The Professor may trust you, but I don't. And I won't have you filling Alex's head with your lies. Are we clear?"

"Scott, please, I assure you--"

"Children of America, do not adjust your television sets. This is a live broadcast from the Brotherhood of Mutants. We speak to you today on a matter of great urgency for your people and for ours. A man named Alexander Luthor wishes to restrict the rights of the homo superior within the borders of America. He would have us sign our name down on a scrap of paper, so he can monitor and pry into our affairs. This cannot stand. Some of my brothers are willing to accept Luthor's decision concerning our lives. They live in the area of New York City referred to as 'Mutant Town'. They are led by this man,"

"He calls himself Xorn. We shall kill this man and his advisors unless our demands are met. Furthermore we have set a series of charges throughout Mutant Town. If our demands are not met, we shall detonate them, killing those of our brothers that would support the subjugation of our race. Our demands are simple; we demand the immediate resignation of President Luthor and the withdrawal of any plans for a Superhuman Registration Act. You have 4 hours. Then we shall carry out our threats on live television. Until then,"

347910247_fee1f23feb_m.jpg

Alex stares in shock at the television screen. Magneto, too, appears dumbfounded. My reaction is a little different. Grabbing Magneto by the collar, I grit my teeth and say, "You listen to me right now. I don't want to even see you in the same room as my brother. If I do, so help me God, it's going to take more than the Professor to protect you."

"You don't honestly believe I had something to do with this, do you?"

"Scott?"

I release Magneto and turn to my brother. There are so many things I want to say to him, but there's no time. Glaring at Magneto once more, I take off towards the Professor's office.

***

"Scott. Good, you're here," the Professor announces as I walk in the door. "I just sent a message to Jean to round up the others. They should be here momentarily. I'm afraid their dance will have to be cut short."

"You know this is his fault, right?" My anger hasn't diminished any. "Even if he didn't cause this, these people are following his example."

"Scott, you mustn't let your personal feelings cloud your judgment of Erik. He has made some mistakes - as have we all - but when he came to me, he was a man looking for redemption." The Professor looks right at me, his tone never wavering. "I would hope that you have enough faith in me to know that I would never deliberately put my students in danger. I assure you, no one is keeping a closer eye on Erik than I."
 
Nightcrawler

After a half hour of mingling and dancing a slow song starts up from the band, and Amara gives me a smile as she wraps her arms around me neck. it's odd, to tell you the truth. Girls have always been put off by the way I look. Maybe this is different because we're both outsiders of different reasons. But honestly, I don't care why this is happening. Just that it is.

But my moment of bliss is interrupted by a tap on my shoulder. I turn to find Jean standing there, "Sorry to interrupt, but the Professor needs you and Peter in his office. Something is up."

I nod begrudingly and turn to apologize to Amara, who plants a kiss on my cheek, "I understand. X-Men stuff. Be safe."

I smile bigger than I probably ever have, "I vill."

As I rush out of the cafeteria with Pete, I slam into someone passing by the entrance of the room, and look up to find an old friend smiling down at me, "Watch where you're going, elf. You could hurt somebody."

logangrinning.jpg


"Logan!" I exclaim and hug him, catching him off guard. "Vhere have you been?"

"Taking care of some things," he says with a bit of a distant look in his eyes. "But it sounds like you guys need me here now. And it's good to see you two," he says to me and Pete.

The four of us head to the Professor's office, where we find Scott waiting for us, "Vhat's up?"
 
Nightcrawler

After a half hour of mingling and dancing a slow song starts up from the band, and Amara gives me a smile as she wraps her arms around me neck. it's odd, to tell you the truth. Girls have always been put off by the way I look. Maybe this is different because we're both outsiders of different reasons. But honestly, I don't care why this is happening. Just that it is.

But my moment of bliss is interrupted by a tap on my shoulder. I turn to find Jean standing there, "Sorry to interrupt, but the Professor needs you and Peter in his office. Something is up."

I nod begrudingly and turn to apologize to Amara, who plants a kiss on my cheek, "I understand. X-Men stuff. Be safe."

I smile bigger than I probably ever have, "I vill."

As I rush out of the cafeteria with Pete, I slam into someone passing by the entrance of the room, and look up to find an old friend smiling down at me, "Watch where you're going, elf. You could hurt somebody."

logangrinning.jpg


"Logan!" I exclaim and hug him, catching him off guard. "Vhere have you been?"

"Taking care of some things," he says with a bit of a distant look in his eyes. "But it sounds like you guys need me here now. And it's good to see you two," he says to me and Pete.

The four of us head to the Professor's office, where we find Scott waiting for us, "Vhat's up?"
"Logan." Between Alex and Magneto, I don't have the energy to be annoyed at Wolverine's sudden return. Besides, I don't know about absence making the heart grow fonder, but he definitely seems more tolerable.

"Bub."

"Logan, your timing is impeccable," the Professor says happily. Turning to address the group at large, the Professor explains, "There's been a terrorist threat by the Brotherhood of Mutants. They've abducted the leader of 'Mutant Town,' a man called Xorn." The Professor frowns as he says the next part. "They're also claiming to have explosives planted in Mutant Town, ready to detonate."

"What are their demands?" Jean asks curiously.

"The immediate resignation of President Luthor and the withdrawal of the Superhuman Registration Act," I answer.

Wolverine snickers. "So why are we trying to stop them?" After I shoot him a sideways glance, he sneers and adds, "Just kidding, boy scout. Lighten up."

"Go and deal with the explosives first," the Professor instructs. "I'll stay here and try to use Cerebro to find where the Brotherhood is holding Xorn." As we begin to file out of the office, the Professor calls out, "Oh, and Mr. Wagner? Don't fret. I'm sure you'll have another chance with Ms. Aquilla. The same goes for you and Ms. Moonstar, Mr. Rasputin."

Jean and I smirk as Nightcrawler and Colossus look both embarrassed and dumbfounded. Even Wolverine cracks a little bit of a smile.
 
Paris, France.

I've only been here a half dozen times or so. Far less than I'd prefer, or can be excused with my level of speed.

The first time was before the war. Before Joan, even. And when we met, I promised her I'd take her someday. But the war got in the way, and the next time I was in Paris was to help liberate it.

I finally managed to bring Joan along for a visit. That was just before the government forced us to disband the Society. I've made the visit a few times since. The last being to help stop an attack by an army of zombies created by a dimension hoping sorcerer.

...

I hope things don't get that weird today.

Although...it's kind of starting off that way.

I'm standing on a roof, in the dead of night, hoping a crime takes place. "What am I, Batman?" I whisper to myself.

"You do not look like a bat, Monsieur."

I quickly spin around. "I suppose you're the Crimson Fox?"

2istftz.jpg

"You would be correct," she says in a thick french accent.

"And, if you'll permit me to say so, it is an honor to meet you, Flash."

She extends her hand and I shake it. "You know who I am?"

"Of course. All people in France know the powered heroes from the war."
She reaches out and takes my hat, putting it on her head playfully. "And what hero other than the Flash wears this?"

"Um, yeah," I say, a little uncomfortably.

"So," she says, modeling the hat with the faint reflection off the glass in a skylight. "I take it you wished to speak with me?"

"We did."

"And who is we, Monseiur Flash?"

"He speaks of me."
Doom steps out from the shadows, surprising her.

"Von Doom!"
She gets into a defensive stance, dropping my hat, but I snatch it just before it hits the ground. Honestly, I probably should have seen this as a warning sign.

But Doom puts his hands up in a peaceful gesture. "Despite any difficulties our countries may be having, I am only here to ask for your help."

"My help."

"Difficulties?"

"Unimportant at this juncture."

"Unimportant,"
she almost hisses.

"Maybe this was a bad idea."


"Nonsense. She certainly has the spirit. And the reports of her activities indicate she also has the skill..."

"Do not speak as if I am not here."


"Miss Fox-"

"You may just call me Fox. He," she says with a nod at Doom, "may just leave."

"I will not. I have an offer for you."

"You?! Have an offer for me?!"

"We have an offer for you."

"Maybe my English is bad, but...I do not understand."

"We're putting a team together. We want you to join the Justice League."
 
Luthor was wearing a perfected stern expression as he walked up the podium to the emergency press conference.

"All I can repeat to the press is the one basic principle of terror response; we will not negotiate with terrorists. Equally we will not let the citizens of 'Mutant Town' suffer at the hands of a few radicals. They may not be homo sapiens, but by God they are Americans, and we will NOT abandon them! I have already dispatched the armed forces to enter Mutant Town and to contain the situation. Have no fear America. Justice will prevail," Luthor announced, quickly, bluntly and abruptly. He forced down a smile as the flashes of cameras went off and a flurry of journalists began to shout their queries. Already Ross would be directing the army in the disarmament of the numerous explosives planted around the district. Everything was going according to plan.
 
IC: Sarah Essen

It's getting worse and worse out here.

Jim's been out of a job for a few weeks now. Grogan and Flass have done a horrible job of running the GCPD, as expected. The MCU has been dismantled and we've all been sent to different positions. Bullock and Allen got the best deal, heading back to Homicide.

I got a promotion and now command one of the cities sleepiest districts, the Southeastern District. Filled with blue collar workers and more conventional familes, were mostly deal with domestic abuse instead of a 1-8-7 in some dark alley. It's a great post for someone in the twilight of their career who likes working 9-5 and playing golf....but that's not me. I need to be out there pounding the pavement, working cases and putting people behind bars. This...this isn't me.

As bad as I have it, Jim is worse. He came back from Europe changed. He told me the story about his search for Gilda and how it ended. He's been in a funk for weeks now. First he was fired, then there was the mess with Doctor Quinzel. The trip to Europe and its results seemed to be icing on the cake. We've talked for days about what to do with the information the probe into Two-Face recovered, he says to let sleeping dogs lie but I can't do that. A good man like Jim deserves better in this world than what he got from the mayor.

That's why I'm here on the docks, far away from the police buildings. Grogan had the bat-signal removed from Gotham Central, but you'd be how surprised it is to make something so simple.

50891827.jpg


All you need is a can of spray paint and a really big light.
 
2 Days Ago

“I mean it was great, but there was so much camping!” Gwen protests as we leave the movie theater, hand in hand. “Couldn’t they have cut down on the dang camping?"

“You read the book! The first half is a lot of camping. This was a character study/road movie. And it was a great one, Hogwarts be damned,” I respond with a laugh. “Honestly, the fans moan when a movie isn’t faithful enough to the book, and now when it‘s basically a complete retelling they moan that it’s too faithful. I don’t get fanboys.”

“Hey, I’m a fangirl, thank you,” she elbows me lightly in the ribs before planting a kiss on my cheek. “And you do know you’re a fanboy too, right?”

“Yea. Sometimes I try to forget that fact,” I smile as the two of us head back home.

**********

Inside a dark, one-room apartment, Mac Gargan sits in a grimy armchair, a half-drank bottle of whiskey hanging loosely in his hand. He stares at a picture sitting on the wall, of him and a pretty woman, smiling at each other. As he loses himself to the drink and the sadness, he begins talking to the photo, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. But neither was he. And he’s the one that’s supposed to be the hero. He’s the one that is supposed to protect the innocents. The one that’s supposed to be able to carry the weight of the city on his shoulders. And even with his freaky friends he couldn’t save you.”

He gets up and begins pacing around the room. His fiancé Emma had been working undercover in Wilson Fisk’s apartment building as a door worker for weeks before the Goblin went crazy and tried to take over the city. But Spider-man didn’t save her. He didn’t even try. But he sent his friends to save Fisk. A known mob boss and scum bag. Instead of saving the one woman who has ever loved him.

But now he had the ability for pay back. The power Osborn was about to give him would let Gargan destroy the Spider. And once that happened his love could rest in peace.

Yesterday

After school I head to the Bugle to pick up my paycheck, where I see a police detective talking to Mr. Jameson, “Where does the Parker kid live, Mr. Jameson?”

“I don’t know. He sends his stuff to my assistant. Never seen him before in my life,” he says defensively. I’ll give it to Jonah. He may be a cheap, arrogant bastard sometimes, but he’s loyal to his people. That is, as long as he never finds out that I’m Spider-man.

Pushing my way into the office, I call out, “I’m Peter. What do you want?”

“Ah, Mr. Parker,” the detective says, flashing me a used-car salesman like smile. “Just have a few questions about your friend the Spider.”

“Like?” I respond, not hiding my annoyance a bit.

“Where do you meet him and how do you get in contact with him?” he asks with a sudden burst on intensity.

“I don’t do either,” I respond shrugging my shoulders. “I just happen to be in the right place at the right time.”

The detective, obviously annoyed at the response, replies, “You know it’s a crime to lie to a police officer?”

“I do,” I nod. “But I’m not lying.”

“We’ll see, Mr Parker,” he gives me that slimy smile again, reverting back to the calm, cool, and collected man from before. “But tell your wall-crawling friend that his days are numbered. And Mac Gargan is gonna find him.”

As Gargan leaves the office, I can’t help but be put off by him. He flipped from happy to enraged with the flip of a switch, and that’s the mark of a dangerous person.

**********

“In other news Cletus Kasady is believed to have escaped from Ark-“

I flip the channel, sighing at more bad news. Unfortunately I flip to Gordon Godfrey’s talk show. The man has been constantly blathering on about how much of a nuisance we are since Luthor began his little super human witch hunt. Gotta love the talking heads.

“The fact remains he works outside the law. Spider-man is a vigilante in the truest sense of the word. He answers to no one, is responsible to no one, and his true motives are unknown,” Godfrey says.

“Going on five years and they still don’t know what my motives are,” I mumble to myself, spooning a heap of Captain Crunch into my mouth.

“And now he’s got his band of lackies to help do his bidding,” his guest says, alluding to the Titans. “I wonder what they call each other. Spider Squad? Super Friends? Who knows.”

“Ugh…the Titans,” I almost yell at the TV, forgetting Aunt May is upstairs.

“These vigilantes are a menace to our society to the point where our greatest enemies now live within our walls. What happens when they decide that our laws aren’t good enough, and that they should be the ones calling the shots. They already think their brand of justice is better and more important than the true American heroes, our armed forces and public servants. I applaud President Luthor for-“

Before he can finish, a breaking news title flashes on the screen, and a police press conference is shown. There, I see the commissioner of police, with Harry sitting behind him. The commissioner begins, “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming on such short notice. I asked you here today to present to you our plans on how to find Spider-man and bring him to justice. Harry Osborn of Oscorp has presented us with a great opportunity.”

Harry stands and uncovers a picture of a man in a scorpion-like exoskeleton as the commissioner continues, “This is Project: Scorpion, and will give one of our detectives the ability to located, capture, and find Spider-man and bring him in for questioning. The exoskeleton he will be equipped with is fitted with heat and night vision, targeting computers, and servos that will increase his speed, strength, and agility. Our officer will also be given safe, comprehensively tested performance enhancers. And before you ask, we do have the full support of President Luthor on this issue.”

“What a surprise,” I say while rolling my eyes. My phone vibrates on the table as a text from Gwen comes in.

Are you watching this?

Yup. Can’t believe they’re going this far.

Yea, Dad didn’t even know anything about it. And Harry helping…This can’t end well.

I know. I’ll figure something out. Cya later.

Yea, later. Love you.

As I put the phone down and listen to the rest of the press conference, “And now, let me introduce to our Project: Scorpion volunteer, Detective Mac Gargan!”

“Crap.”

Today

Mac Gargan sits on a cold metal table, waiting for the procedure to start. A doctor approaches him, and he tries to mask his nervousness when he asks, “This gonna hurt, doc?”

“No, Mr. Gargan,” he smiles. “You won’t feel a thing.”

The doctor places a mask over Gargan’s face and the detective falls into a deep sleep.

**********​

Gwen and I sit on the couch, her head nestled on my shoulder. The TV show we're watching is interrupted by a pirate broadcast, and a pit forms in my stomach, "Not again."

"Children of America, do not adjust your television sets. This is a live broadcast from the Brotherhood of Mutants. We speak to you today on a matter of great urgency for your people and for ours. A man named Alexander Luthor wishes to restrict the rights of the homo superior within the borders of America. He would have us sign our name down on a scrap of paper, so he can monitor and pry into our affairs. This cannot stand. Some of my brothers are willing to accept Luthor's decision concerning our lives. They live in the area of New York City referred to as 'Mutant Town'. They are led by this man,"

The blue-eyed man steps out of picture for a second, then returning dragging a bound figure wearing a mask resembling a grinning skull.

"He calls himself Xorn. We shall kill this man and his advisors unless our demands are met. Furthermore we have set a series of charges throughout Mutant Town. If our demands are not met, we shall detonate them, killing those of our brothers that would support the subjugation of our race. Our demands are simple; we demand the immediate resignation of President Luthor and the withdrawal of any plans for a Superhuman Registration Act. You have 4 hours. Then we shall carry out our threats on live television. Until then,"

The picture flickers for a second.

347910247_fee1f23feb_m.jpg

I sigh and Gwen looks up at me, "You're going to go, aren't you?"

"Yea, but not to mutant town," I nod, getting up and heading for the door. "Me being there would do more bad than good. Ad I don't need the deaths of a bunch of civilians on my conscience. But this opens the door for looters, and I'm not going to let that go down."

"Be careful," she smiles, and we kiss. "I'll tell daddy that you're out and about tonight. I'm sure that'll make him feel better."

I smile and swing back to my house and change, before heading out on patrol.
 
Nightcrawler

As the team flies in the Blackbird to New York, we begin discussing strategy. I look over a Scott from next to him in the co-pilot's chair, "I think Logan and I should go and attempt to diffuse zhe bombs. I can 'port us around zhe area zhe fastest, giving us zhe best opportunity to find zhem."

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea, elf," Logan says from behind me. "Only one problem, do you have any idea on how to actually diffuse a bomb?"

"Ah...yes. Zhat could prove to be problematic," I chuckle. "Vhat do you think we should do, Scott?"
 
Nightcrawler

As the team flies in the Blackbird to New York, we begin discussing strategy. I look over a Scott from next to him in the co-pilot's chair, "I think Logan and I should go and attempt to diffuse zhe bombs. I can 'port us around zhe area zhe fastest, giving us zhe best opportunity to find zhem."

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea, elf," Logan says from behind me. "Only one problem, do you have any idea on how to actually diffuse a bomb?"

"Ah...yes. Zhat could prove to be problematic," I chuckle. "Vhat do you think we should do, Scott?"
"Teleport the bombs into the harbor. Minimum safe distance from land." I turn with a little grin. "You may have to get a little wet."

"I'll go with them," Colossus offers. "If worst comes to worst, I can fall on top of the bombs."

I nod. "Not a bad idea."

~X-Men, you're going to have company. The President has dispatched a squadron of military personnel to the area.~

Wolverine snorts. "Never one to miss a publicity opportunity, is he?"

"It'll go faster if they can help," Jean suggest optimistically.

"Let's just stay out of their way, regardless. Mutant Town's plenty big enough for all of us." I look out the window at the approaching New York skyline. "Prepare to land, X-Men. Wolverine, Nightcrawler, Colossus, you're on bomb disposal. Jean, you and I will handle crowd control." I gently push the control column down, and the X-Jet begins to descend.
 
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