SPIDER-GIRL 2

“Old Friend, New Outfit”

 

***

A car pulled up outside the Urichs’ house. Peter Parker emerged, moving remarkably fast up the path. In seconds he was holding the doorbell down, shrilling out it’s summons. It took almost five minutes before the door opened.

Meredith Urich opened the door blearily. “P-Peter! What are you-“

“No time,” Peter cut her off. “Is Phil, uh… out?”

Merry sighed. “It’s our wedding anniversary, Peter,” she said. “He knew what’d happen if he’d dressed up in that suit tonight of all nights. I suppose this means you’re not here on an incredibly badly-timed social call?”

“No.”

She nodded, stood back. “Come in, then. I’ll try to wake him up…”

Peter stepped over the threshold. “Are all the Warriors off tonight, then? Or just running without their leader?”

“To be honest, Peter, I don’t care,” Meredith sighed. “I know that sounds heartless, but… Honestly, the less I hear about the Goblin and that side of Phil’s life, the happier I am. I have enough difficulty when I somehow end up in the middle of it all…”

Peter nodded, though Merry couldn’t see that as she ascended the stairs. “I know what you mean. It doesn’t seem to matter if they’ve discovered your secret identity or not, they somehow manage to commit crimes right next to your nearest and dearest. It’s been better since the… accident. I’m kinda one step away these days.”

***

When Phil finally emerged, Peter didn’t even give him a chance to speak. “I need to borrow your costume, Phil.”

Urich blinked. “Uh… say again?”

“The Green Goblin outfit,” Peter said. “Or one of the other ones you wore whenever an Osborn was back in the city. I need a costume that has powers in it.”

“Wait a minute,” Meredith said sharply. “I thought you’d finished with hands-on, Peter?”

“I did too,” Peter said. “But Octavius has May.”

The words hung in the air for some time, poisoning the room.

When Phil nodded, somehow, that poison vanished.

***

Mayday, at that point, had drifted off to sleep. Doctor Octopus had evidently by now adopted the viewpoint that her dad was going to take a while in coming after him, so why on earth should he not be ready to wait and to make May wait? Still strapped to the chair, she dozed fitfully… until…

There was something under her skin. Rippling, pulsing… even growing. The sensation had become more pronounced, starting as an itch under her skin in both arms that she’d written off – she couldn’t scratch, after all. Now it had reached levels she just couldn’t ignore.

She jerked awake screaming. The sensation was truly painful now; burning, crawling – both and neither of these things. She felt tired beyond belief, utterly drained – and hot all over, but particularly around her musculature. Had Octopus jabbed her with something? She didn’t remember it if he had, but she wasn’t dumb. She’d seen the TV interviews when the New Warriors actually blasted Genosha into the sea and brought out the slaves and hostages – none of them could remember what had happened during the enslavement. So just because she didn’t remember didn’t mean anything, even if she didn’t think Octopus was much of a one for all that mind-control schtick.

Dammit… her dad was the supervillain trivia expert in the family. What the hell was going on?

She didn’t need this. She so didn’t need this. And she couldn’t stop screaming – and her arm seemed to be swelling –

OK. OK, girl, she told herself. Get a grip. Calm down. Assess the damage, if there is any. Above all, open your eyes.

So she did. Opened her eyes, and eased her head to one side so she could finally see what was happening, since her arms seemed to be the main focus.

Oh. My. God.

They were growing. But not evenly.

She had real muscles now – not strongman muscles, not even pro-wrestler-babe muscles – but muscles nonetheless, muscles that fit her frame. How the hell did that happen without working out?

How the hell did it happen overnight, as well?

And… just how strong was she now?

As she sat there, trying to gather her breath, a dart whistled out of the darkness accompanied by a cry of  “Shut UP!” in a vaguely Germanic accent. Mayday didn’t bother informing him that he’d missed, but went quiet just in case he had another in whatever had fired it at her.

And then the sewer tunnels carried to them the sound of a manhole being dislodged above…

“He’s coming,” the Doctor whispered eagerly, the sound of his voice only just reaching you. “He’s finally here…”

***

The Goblin Glider clipped the roof. It’s green, evilly-grinning occupant was sent flying and landed uncomfortably, upside down against the chimney.

“Damn.”

Phil Urich sighed. “Peter… are you sure this is an entirely wise idea?”

“No,” Peter Parker said, righting himself. “But it’s the best I’ve got. I can’t beat Ock without some kind of powers, and since I lost my own…”

Phil nodded. “I know, Peter, I know. What I don’t know is why you don’t just let me deal with it. I’m used to the gear…”

The Goblin mask shook slowly. “Sorry, Phil. But this is my fault, and I’m not going to let someone else take care of it for me. It’s my responsibility.”

Phil nodded again. He knew Peter too well, these days, to argue over that. “All right, Spidey,” he grinned. “But time’s a-wasting – and you’re not improving enough to make me think this training is going to be worthwhile. So get out there and find him.”

“I… guess you’re right.”

***

The ladders rang hollowly as the descent continued. Obviously they were going to hear the approach a mile off. This wasn’t good.

Nor was it good when the metallic ladder became electrified, blasting power through the intruder’s system. A scream, a brief blue flare of visible raw energy, a frantic long moment in free fall, and a sickening thud.

Mary-Jane lay beside the thin trickle of sewage, unconscious, blood leaking from her head, deepening the red of her hair, the gun she’d brought with her fallen just out of her hand.

***

The manhole was already open, which was fine by Peter. The Glider began a vertical descent – the improvements Phil had made to it coming through, evidently – and the edges of the wings folded up to allow easy descent through the narrow gap left by the manhole.

The showdown was almost upon them…

***

“Hmm,” Octavius said, looking thoughtfully at the CCTV image of Mary-Jane lying unconscious at the base of the entrance. “An interesting development, to say the least…”

“Interesting? Are you kidding me?” Mayday snapped. “That’s my mom, for god’s sake!”

“I am aware, thank you,” the Doctor replied, calmly. “I had expected your father. Nevertheless, I feel I can now be absolutely sure he will be here soon. If his wife could find me, it is because he had done… and had been careless enough to allow the information to be discovered. She will not be here in his stead, after all… Now all that is left is to wait.”

May raged.

“Listen, you overstuffed arrogant-“

There was a sharp crack. May broke off in mid-sentence, looked down at the arm of the chair she was attached to…

The steel had torn along a weld line. The arm to the chair was loose at one end.

 Mayday stared at it blankly, trying to work out how it had happened. Doctor Octopus, however, was more confident that he knew. Once again the giant tentacles carried him on the traverse across the hideout, leaving him poised, hovering above Mayday. “How did you do that?” he snapped.

Mayday fell silent, panicked.

“HOW DID YOU DO THAT?” Octavius screamed.

The silence that followed beggared description. Mayday didn’t know, and in any case was too scared to speak; the sweating Octopus was no more capable, but for a very different reason. For over a minute the two stared at each other. And then the quiet purring of an engine grew loud enough to be audible.

Someone or something was drawing closer to Octopus’ lair.

A moment of panic flickered over the Doctor’s face as he tried to decide between two threats. Eventually the steel tentacles flexed and he soared back toward the bank of security monitors, stabbing frantically at the view cycle button.

Eventually the screen showed a camera view that contained the intruder, racing along on the Goblin Glider came the cowled figure of the Green Goblin, it’s mask stretched wide in it’s permanent insane grin.

The Octopus stared at the monitor bank for a few frozen moments, before propelling itself back across the room toward Mayday. “Is this your father? Is this how he continues today?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Mayday screamed at him. “My father stays home every night and watches TV with mom! He always has! He can’t have been Spider-Man, and he isn’t the Goblin now!”

“Then what is the Goblin doing here?”

Mayday’s mouth worked uselessly for a moment. “It’s the Green Goblin, for God’s sake! If Dad really was Spider-Man, which costume would he be the least likely ever to wear?”

***

The Goblin mask, Peter was gradually realising, was not like the Spider-mask. Spider-Man’s perspiration filtered through cloth. Tough cloth, to be sure, durable as anything, but still cloth. So sweat just soaked it, and could be washed out easily enough. It wasn’t, say, latex, that would trap your sweat and allow it egress only down into your eyes and blinding you.

No. That would be an utterly moronic design concept, wouldn’t it?

Why did he have to sweat, anyway? Sure, he’d sweated when he first got his powers. When he caught Uncle Ben’s killer, he’d sweated like crazy. When the public first turned against him for no reason… Yeah, sweat there and all. But he’d been Spider-Man for well over a decade, and before the first year was out he didn’t sweat except on special occasions. Like when a Goblin pulled itself back from the grave and came after him. Or a Kraven.

Or an Octopus.

But beggars couldn’t be choosers, and even if he wasn’t planning on anything even resembling begging, that went for Peter.

So he blinked the sweat out of his eyes and kept on flying, hand nervously fingering pumpkin bombs in the satchel.

***

The Doctor examined the image of the Green Goblin flying toward him. He hit a key, and the image was duplicated on a much larger screen that dominated the monitor bank. A little work with the keyboard, and what was probably archive footage appeared in the top left corner, with ‘1’ superimposed on it in blue. It showed the Green Goblin in flight. More keystrokes followed; the remaining corners now also sported inset images. 2, 3 and 4.

“Not flying like any of them,” the Doctor muttered. “Or possibly like each in turn, in their younger days… Before they learned what they were doing.”

He began to laugh. “It is your father, you know,” he said. “It is your father, and he’s obtained the good Goblin’s equipment. Oh, dear…”

The eyes that turned to regard Mayday were shielded, as always, by grey-lensed sunglasses. But the amusement within could still be plainly seen, bolstered by the cruel smile. “What would it take to make the Spider become the Goblin?” he asked, flinging his upper tentacles wide in an expansive gesture. “A threat to his daughter, it seems. And, such a pity, he’s not actually very good at it… This is where it ends, May Parker. This is where it all ends. Finally, I will have killed Spider-Man. And that alone is enough to take with me to this, my second demise. An accomplishment beyond the capabilities of so many others…”

Octavius laughed.

***

 

***

NEXT ISSUE: Parker vs. Octavius! The showdown is finally here… Grab your popcorn and settle in.

 

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