Capítulo 11: CH9: Yo No Hablo Americano.
Slinging through the city to find the warehouse gave me plenty of time to hate myself, unfortunately.
"Seriously, Jake? You ran out of webs?!" I cursed a little between sentences. "Peter would have never run out of webs like that."
The sun was well on its way to setting; I'd wasted most of a day recovering. With luck, that meant A.I.M. thought I died flying through several walls and into free air.
…
…
…
HOLY SHIT! HOW DID I NOT DIE?!
God damn, me, you are one tough bastard. Seriously, that was awesome.
I wasn't eager for a repeat, but it was nice to know I could take that kind of damage.
But the thoughts of my apparently amazing ability to accept agro (solid alliteration there, me) lead me to another concern.
I got tired way too fast fighting whatever-the-bird-lady's-name-was. Spider-Man could fight forever, if memory served.
(Not literally forever, but you get my point.)
I got tired after a few minutes of getting my shit kicked out of me. Did that mean I got a weaker type of Spider Powers for whatever reason? The Great Web of Fate or whatever it's called had something to do with Peter not dying from radiation, if I recall correctly. What exactly happened if I became Spider-Man?
Between that and running out of webs…
Maybe I should have let Peter be Spider-Man?
I could have looked after him on the background. Give him alibies, toss out advice as to how to tackle the many problems of being a Cape…
… Fuck it. Moaning about it won't help anyone.
I hurried the rest of the way and crashed through the window just in time to watch a secret door closing in the middle of the floor.
I walked over, stuck my hand on it, and pulled until it came off.
"Knock-knock! Ass-kicking delivery!"
Not one of my better lines, but I never really got the hang of the fine art of quipping.
I jumped down the hole; biting back a curse as pain flared all over my body, then immediately had to start jumping around to avoid pink lasers fired at me by those bee-keeper looking motherfuckers.
I beat up anyone near me then looked around. There were three doors, no clear indications, and I suddenly remembered that in both lives I'd been blessed with an internal compass that looked more like a roulette wheel.
'Okay, how do I go about this?' I grabbed a nearby A.I.M. mook. 'If I interrogate this guy, he'll probably lie to me. Thing is, even then, I'm probably gonna end up meeting the big guy in charge anyways, even if I just jump around like an idiot beating up everyone in sight. Interrogating this piece of shit could speed things up or slow them down.'
I thought about it for a second.
"Screw it," I pulled of the mook's helmet –sidenote: the mook was a he– and slapped him awake. "Hey! Wake up; I need to know where I can find your boss!"
I'll spare you the details of the interrogation. Let's just say I walked out with a vague idea of how to get where I wanted, and he crawled out with a dislocated shoulder, twelve broken fingers, and probably some mild arachnophobia.
I crashed through several doors and agents, coming out of it with only some bruises on my knuckles and a small burn on my shoulder, which would have been great, except I was also bleeding from my side.
"Oh yeah, Spidey, great plan," I muttered, hiding behind one of those random crates you can find in any evil lair as bright pink lasers rained down on my position. "You need to prove that you're mature and capable enough to Daredevil, right? Why don't you just pick up your wounded ass, and get going to the evil fucking lair at top fucking speed, eh? God, I'm such an idiot."
"Would you like some help, son?"
I looked up and holy shit.
You know, Chris Evans really was the perfect choice to cast for Captain America, back in my old universe. You know why?
Because the good Captain is jacked as hell.
Like holy shit.
First time I saw him, I think I became a little gayer, just staring at his broad shoulders.
"Holy crap," I muttered. "Your shoulders are as broad as your shield!"
"Yes, the serum worked wonders," he said, smiling. Then he threw his shield and I heard it hit like seven people.
I stumbled out of cover and stuck a hand out. "I'm Spider-Man, by the way. It's an honor."
"Captain America," he shook my hand. "Are you okay?"
"I'm a little banged-up, but I'm fine," I cracked my neck. I looked down the hallways, which now had several more knocked out A.I.M. agents. "Are you caught up with everything up to now?"
"Not really," Cap put his shield on his back and his hands on his waist. "Daredevil just gave me a call about a new hero that was heading off to recklessly fight a secret organization on his own despite being seriously wounded."
"In my defense…" I trailed off, before I looked awkwardly to the side and walked away.
"In your defense what?"
"Nothing, it was stupid," I admitted. "I just knew that Murdock was going to try and stop me, and I didn't feel like fighting him to prove I was mature enough to go fight evil and all that."
"Why would you fight him?"
"Isn't that how these things go?"
"Fair enough," Rogers shrugged. "So, what's all this about?"
"You know that new drug; Cape? A.I.M. is responsible for it. I tracked down someone responsible for it, got thrown through several walls and pretty far into the air before crashing through Murdock's roof."
"… And you're fine?"
"I've got a minor healing factor."
"I wouldn't call that minor, but okay."
We reached a locked door, which I proceeded to kick open. Lasers were immediately fired, and I had to jump onto the roof while Cap just held up his shield.
"So, tell me more about this Cape thing," he muttered, casual as hell.
"Temporarily gives people Mutant powers. An overdose leads to horrifying disfiguring mutations. Or at least it did. They've been perfecting it; I don't know what their latest batch can do." I was sounding slightly more strained as I ran in zigzag to avoid getting shot. Once I was above the mooks, I dropped and started punching anyone I had near.
It wasn't long until Cap was beside me, and we kept talking as we fought.
"Then, is this another try to replicate the Super Soldier Serum?"
"I don't know for sure…" I grabbed a mook by the neck and used them as a blunt weapon against another mook. "But yeah, it's probably involved."
"You know, it's almost like I can't go two days without someone trying to replicate it."
"That's life, Captain."
We continued like that for a while, beating the hell out of people and making conversation.
At one point, as he was throwing a mook through a wall, he asked, "Hey, if you don't mind me asking; how old are you?"
"I'm sixteen, why?"
"Why are you doing this?" He stopped to look at me, and I did the same after webbing up another guy that had been wielding a laser rifle seconds ago. "Respectfully, you're just a kid. Shouldn't you be doing kid things, instead of taking out crime lords and such?"
I was fully prepared for that question. I knew that I was going to eventually meet another Cape that was going to ask that of me. I even expected to hear that exact question from Captain America. So I just shrugged and turned his question back to him.
"Why are you doing this? Hell, why did you enlist in the first place? Why did you volunteer for a dangerous experiment?
"I get that it's not the same, what with all the Nazis, but I think that our motivations were the same, at their core. We felt the need to do the right thing. Granted, you're a better man that I am, seeing how you went for it as a scrawny kid from Brooklyn, while it took a radioactive spider in the wrong place for me to go out, but still.
"I can't guarantee that I would have gone against Fisk, or against these guys, if I hadn't become a Cape. Maybe I would have become something of a sidekick if someone I knew had taken my place.
"But as it is, I have power, so I have a responsibility to use it to do the right thing. It's as simple as that."
Cap didn't say anything; he just looked at me for a while before going on.
'Hm,' I thought, 'did I just do a Character Filibuster? That's embarrassing. And in front of Captain Muscular, too. Oh well, if Granny Weatherwax can get away with hers, I can get away with mine.'
Then my Spidey Sense started ringing. I jumped, not even bothering to look around to see where the danger was coming from, which allowed me to see Cap get tossed away by a pink blast of energy.
"What the fuck?" Then I looked in the direction of where the blast came from. "WHAT THE FUCK?!"
M.O.D.O.K. is a gigantic head with tiny limbs hanging out of it.
Sounds simple, right? Giant head, little limbs, rocket chair.
Yeah, let me tell you, it's a lot more horrifying from up close.
Words can't describe the sheer wrongness that he gave off. His face was like too little skin stretched over too much skull.
"Foolish heroes, you will not-"
"God, how are you so ugly?!"
"… Excuse you?"
"You look like you gave a kiss to the front part of a moving train!" I turned to a nearby mook that was trying to pick themselves up, "I'm not imagining this, right? He really is that ugly?"
The mook didn't reply, so I turned back to M.O.D.O.K. "You're so ugly, I bet that when you look in a mirror, your reflection ducks.
"I mean, seriously, you're so ugly that when you get sick, they probably call the vet.
"You should be a robber, 'cause you're so ugly, when you walk into a bar they turn off the cameras.
"If ugliness were bricks, you'd be the Great Wall of China.
"You're so ugly, that you went into a haunted house and came out with an application.
"You were so ugly at birth that your parents wanted to name you Shit Happens.
"You're so ugly that your face is the perfect form of birth control.
"You're so ugly, you have to Trick or Treat over phone."
I stopped to catch my breath. M.O.D.O.K. opened his mouth to speak, but I interrupted.
"You look like an avocado had sex with another, older avocado.
"You look like a geographical map of Utah.
"You look like a condom with teeth.
"You're so ugly, you make onions cry.
"You're so ugly, you make blind kids cry.
"You're so ugly, farmers use your picture as a scarecrow.
"You're so ugly that when you throw a boomerang, it doesn't come back.
"You're so ugly that you couldn't get a date off of the calendar.
"You're so ugly that when your mother when into labor, the doctors went on strike.
"You're so ugly, that… uh…"
I stopped and scratched my chin.
"Shit, I'm out of jokes. Give me a sec, I'll Google something."
That's the last thing I remembered before he blasted me to kingdom come.
It was totally fucking worth it.
I woke up later in a hospital room. My suit was still on, and my mask was pulled up just over my nose, I imagine they did that to make breathing easier for me.
I sat up, pulled my mask down and put my hood on.
Had I been in a better state, I would have been rational, stopped to think, and figured out where I was.
Seeing how I was running on about five hours of shitty sleep, my everywhere was still in pretty deep pain, and my last memory was that of getting blasted by a giant floating head I'd decided to insult instead of fighting, I did the next best thing I could.
I smashed through the only door I could find, completely ready to fight anyone and everyone in my way.
I came out to an empty hallway, so I ran in a random direction and kept going until I found a corner to turn.
Then I found myself in some kind of lounge room, which had several couches and several large windows that showed the New York skyline.
Again, had I been more rational, I would have seen something odd about that, but my only thought was 'an exit, awesome'.
I checked my wrists, saw that my webshooters were still on, shot two webs to the nearest couch, swung it over my head, and threw it at a window.
The window got some cracks on it, but didn't break completely.
I was about to test what integrity it had left, until a laser scorched the floor in front of me.
I turned and saw Iron Man standing there, fully armored and ready to take me out.
"Calm down, kid," he pointed his repulsors at me. "Let's not toss any more of my furniture around."
I stared at him, and my brain finally started functioning again. "So, Cap saved me?"
"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock."
"Right, right," I shook my head. "Sorry, I'm still kind of asleep."
Iron Man kept silent for a moment, then the suit opened up and Tony Stark walked out, wearing a suit that was probably worth more than my kidneys.
"Do you drink coffee?"
"Yeah."
"I'll make some. Take a seat."
"Thanks."
I grabbed the webs attached to the couch I'd thrown, pulled it over to me, put it back where it was, and sat down on it.
Then I sank into it, because god damn.
"This is the greatest couch in the universe," I muttered, closing my eyes and relaxing every muscle in my body. "I'm going to marry it. I'm planning the ceremony right now. We're having a spring wedding."
"Sheila is mine, you little couch thief," Tony Stark said, coming back over holding two cups of coffee. "How're you feeling?"
"Like I repeatedly got the shit kicked out of me," I grabbed the cup, muttering my thanks, and then took a sip before wincing at the taste. "You got any sugar?"
He handed me a little bowl filled with sugar cubes. I put five in and tried again. It was much better after that.
"Skipping right over how disgusting that just was…" Tony Stark said, sitting down on the couch in front of me. "What you did was incredibly stupid."
"… As in, everything I ever did in my life, recent events, or something in particular?"
He seemed to think it over before answering. "I don't know you that well, so for now, let's say that recent events were stupid."
"Agreed," I shrugged, before sipping my coffee. "What happened after I got knocked out?"
"Cap took care of it. A.I.M.'s base got blow up, M.O.D.O.K. ran away. The formula for that Cape drug was destroyed. He's cleaning up what's left as we speak." He leaned forward. "What I want to talk about is you."
"What exactly do you mean?"
"I want you to sign the accords."
I raised an eyebrow. "Are you ordering me to do that?"
"Yes. You're breaking the law doing what you do. I'll admit that you showed promise with how you handled Fisk, but this whole A.I.M. incident proves that you need to be watched over."
"You don't have a lot of experience with teenagers, do you?" I sipped my coffee. "I mean, you just told one that he has to sign a government paper to get a babysitter, and you seem convinced that I'll actually go ahead and do it."
"You're breaking the law, kid."
"In the words of that great philosopher and poet, Ice Cube: fuck the police."
The corner of his mouth twitched upwards, but he managed to keep a straight face.
"Why don't you want to sign the Accords?"
"Have you read the damn things? At my age, I might as well be selling away my civil rights for a box of air. Hell, if I did that, at least I'd get a box."
His mouth twitched again. "Stop joking, this is serious."
"Okay, okay," I put down my mug on the floor, because I'm uselessly petty like that. "I'm not signing jack. Sorry, I hope we can work together unofficially at some point."
"… You know, a responsible adult would probably stop you from going out."
"Well, lucky for me, it's just us here." I got up and stretched. "Can these windows open?"
Tony Stark jerked his head to the side and the one I almost broke opened.
"Thanks," I started heading out before he called out for me.
"I could make you a suit, you know."
I turned back, eyebrow raised and ready, and he drank from his mug.
"Hypothetically speaking, I could make you something so that if you're going to be stupid, at least you won't die doing it."
"I appreciate the offer, sir," I shot a web without looking and smirked. "But I don't see the need to swing around with a bunch of trackers on me."
Tony Stark smirked back. "Smart kid, huh?"
"Not really."
I jumped out the window, and once I was out of sight and on steady ground, I proceeded to freak the hell out over the fact that I had just spent a shitload of time bantering with TONY STARK.
I found my way home, entering through the bathroom's window again (after checking that no one was inside) and then stealthily walked down to the guest room.
I took off my mask and lied down on my bed.
I had seriously fucked up.
I rushed everything; I got my ass kicked left and right, and had to have my slack picked up by fucking Captain America.
I tried to move up against a slightly bigger enemy and I got fucked up six ways to Sunday.
Peter would have done better. Peter would be better at everything.
I justified being Spider-Man to myself by thinking that at least I was sparing Peter from some of the worst pain he could possibly experience, but what if I'm making everything worse for everyone by being Spider-Man?
Peter's a genius, he could probably figure out a way to turn off my powers. He could also figure out how to gift them to someone else.
I stared at my mask.
Who would I give it to? There's no way I'm putting Peter through the pain of being Spidey, so…
Who would be worthy? Should I even be the one that makes that call? What made me worthy? I was standing in the wrong place at the wrong time, where the hell did I get off thinking shit like that?
I wasn't worthy of the mantle.
The door opened and May stood there.
"I thought I heard a hero skulking around. You gave us a scare, you know. You were gone for so long."
I didn't answer; I just stared at her before looking up.
"What's wrong, sweetie?"
I had a lump in my throat, but I forced myself to answer. "I recently found that I'm a really shitty hero."
"… I want to cheer you up, but I honestly never prepared for this."
That got a chuckle out of me. She gestured for me to make space and sat down next to me after I did so.
"What happened, sweetie?"
"I tried to take on a criminal organization that was producing a drug that gives people powers. I fucked up and Captain America had to save my ass."
"You met Captain America?"
"Yeah, but that really isn't the point, May."
"Sorry, sorry. What did you do wrong?"
"I got cocky. I rushed in over and over again, like an idiot. I got hurt and wouldn't wait to heal because I just had to deal with this. I did everything that I would yell at someone else for doing."
"Are you still hurt?"
"I'll be fine."
"Well… how long have you been doing this? A few months?"
"That sounds about right, I guess."
"And do you really think you'll get it perfectly right off the bat?"
"I know I'm being unrealistic, but…"
But Peter could do it better.
"… I feel that someone else would be better. I feel like I shouldn't be the one that got the powers."
"Well, who would be better?"
Like hell I'm gonna tell her that her actual child should be putting himself in danger instead of me.
"I dunno. Someone."
May put a hand on my head and tussled my hair. "Unfortunately, Mister Perfect Hero isn't around, and he isn't you. If it were up to me, no one would have to deal with the powers. But we don't live in our fantasies, Jake. We live here, so we should deal with what's here with us.
"I know better than to try and tell you to hang up the mask. I can see how much it means to you. But you don't need to rush in without help, and you don't need to hurry into fighting big guys. You don't need to hurry at all. I don't think there are any guidelines for things like this, dear.
"Just do what you can. That's the best anyone can do."
May Parker is a saint.
That's all that needs to be said.
"So you met Tony Stark?" Peter asked, once dinner had been had and we were relaxing in his room. "What was that like?"
"It was cool," I had my eyes closed and I was just trying to relax. I missed Sheila the Couch already. "I'm pretty sure he put a tracker on my suit."
"WHAT?" he shouted.
"Don't worry, he's not gonna make a move."
I thought, at least. I knew a bit about Stark from my previous life and my talk with him, and while I didn't doubt that he'd show up uninvited in my room, he would probably not do so with the intent of locking me up.
"How do you know that?"
"We bonded over how much we wanted to fuck his furniture."
"… You can be so weird sometimes, man."
I chuckled.
Later, in the deep hours of the night, I thought some more about worthiness.
Tony chuckled.
"What's so funny?" Steve asked; looking over his friend's shoulder to see that he was listening on someone.
"Spidey-Boy knew I was spying on him and didn't do anything about it because he didn't think I was going to do something about it."
"Is that a power move?" Lingo seemed to be evolving faster and faster as time moved on. Steve wasn't that great at keeping up.
"Yup. Too bad I made a better one.
M.O.D.O.K. was furious. That insolent fool, Captain America, had foiled his brilliant plans once more. Not only that, but his little friend had been the one to unveil his magnificent machinations, and after that he'd spent entire minutes mocking his appearance!
This insult would not stand.
Luckily, the smartest being in the planet had managed to take something that would allow him to take vengeance against that insufferable arachnid.
As he stared at the vial full of Spider-Man's blood, a wicked grin spread across M.O.D.O.K.'s lips.
A few days after the Cape incident, school had reopened (the student body loved me for giving them a week off from school after I trashed a bunch of shit in my fight) and I was walking home alone (Peter was hanging out with Gwen) when Matt Murdock showed up in my path.
I stopped in front of him. "Hell of a way to make an entrance, Murdock. You just creepily show up in my civilian life, all stalker-like."
"What if I weren't here to meet you?"
I rolled my eyes, "Please. I imagine it was Stark that gave you my identity, schedule, and such?"
He raised an eyebrow. "I guess this is just further evidence that I'm doing the right thing."
"I'm not afraid of beating a blind man's ass, Murdock."
"I'm not going to fight you."
"Great, because that was a lie. You could mop the floor with me."
"Shut up and listen," I did as I was told.
"You have good instincts," That was not true.
"But you're sloppy," That, however, was very much true.
"I know already that even if I forbid you from going out and getting yourself killed, you'd be too stubborn not to do so," Also true.
"So the next best thing is to make sure you don't get yourself killed." Wait what.
I took a step back. "Wait, you mean…?"
"Would you like for me to train you? Everything I know, everything I was trained on and everything I picked up in my career. What do you say?"
I swallowed nervously. This was serious. Daredevil was one of the best melee fighters in Marvel, as far as I could remember.
And he was offering to teach me.
…
… I wasn't worthy of being Spider-Man.
… But maybe I could grow to be worthy.
I nodded with an eager smile.
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