SPIDER-MAN: ETERNITY
"ACTS OF MERCY"

by R. John Burke
Rated PG-13 for language and adult situations

DISCLAIMER: Spider-Man and other characters are a copyright of Marvel Comics. I don't own them, but this is only non-profit fan fiction. No money is involved and no infringement is intended.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story takes place in the same continuity as my “X-Men: Eternity” stories, in which the House of M ended differently and the X-Men were scattered through multiple realities by a time-traveling villain. This story is not dependent upon reading those-- simply bear in mind that we're starting over from the House of M.

NOTE ON BRIDGES: I know there's some controversy about which bridge Gwen Stacy died on. I've seen sources that say the Brooklyn Bridge, the George Washington Bridge, and even the Queensboro. I'm using the George Washington, 'cause it sounds cool.

--

ONE: The Morning After

“Peter! Don't make this any harder, dammit!”

The young dude in the red-and-blue suit glanced back over his shoulder at me. “Sure, just shout out the secret identity right in the middle of Queens, in front of God an' the Mets fans an' everybody. Really classy, Cage. Whatever happened to professional courtesy?”

I opened my mouth to reply-- to yell some more, actually-- but the kid turned a double-somersault off the wall he'd been sticking to, landed behind my back, and unloaded on me. I turned just in time to get it in the jaw, and flew into the wall myself. Almost -through- the wall. Boy packs a wallop, I'll give him that.

He's -fast-, too-- he was on me in a second, pounding me with punch after punch. Mixing it up with Spider-Man is like trying to swat a flea. A flea armed with a bazooka.

Finally I connected, and -he- went flying. There's a lesson in that: Good things happen when you hang in there and wait things out. Of course, it helps to have unbreakable skin and a right cross like an oncoming semi. Lucky for me, I do. My name's Luke Cage. My friend is Peter Parker. After I swatted him, he smashed into the pavement and lay there, stunned.

Huh. Now that I think of it, I'll bet you'd like to know why I'm beating the crap out of Spider-Man.

Long story, brother. You have no idea. For instance, I'll bet you think the way the world was when you woke up this morning was the way it's always been. You probably woke up, ate breakfast, headed off to work or school or... hell, maybe you just crashed on the sofa and watched soap operas all day. And I bet you think you did that yesterday, too.

What if I told you that ain't so? What if I said yesterday, the world was a futuristic fantasy-land run by mutants-- by -the- mutant himself, Erik Magnus Lehnsherr, a.k.a Mag--ing-neto? What if I said his daughter, the Scarlet Witch, reshaped the entire world with a thought, so the bottom rung'd be on top and all us Avengers and X-Men and Daredevils and whoever the hell else would stop picking on her and hers?

Hey, now. I saw that look. Don't be all “Oooookay, let's humor the crazy man.” I said -what if-. Give me a chance to explain.

The first thing you've got to know is, the Witch-- Wanda Maximoff-- she's a hero at heart. She wants to do the right thing. Even when she telepathically nuked us, she tried to make the best world she could. Well, for most people. She sent my wife and little girl to the cornfield... guess she was busy with the A-listers.

Or maybe the Good Lord did a better job than you'd think when He put this world together in the first place. You give to one fella, you got to take from another. Saw that on an old episode of “I Dream of Jeannie.” Somebody's got to get the short end of the stick-- in this case, humans. I wasn't sorry to join the team to Genosha that sent her crazy ass packing.

Peter Parker, though, he got a pretty good deal from the Witch. He was sort of an honorary mutant. Ended up with a son and a pretty new wife by the name of Gwen Stacy.

I remember Gwen Stacy. I never met her, you understand, but when she died, that fool Jameson hired me to take it out on Spider-Man. I ended up breaking our arrangement; he was playing me, and Luke Cage gets played by nobody. But that was how I ended up beating the crap out of Spider-Man the -first- time.

The second time... that's a little more complicated. It started right about the time the stuff hit the fan for the House of M.

--

“Daddy... no more mutants.”

-This is all the X-Men's fault,- Peter Parker decided as everything went to hell. In times of great stress or dire need, he'd developed a simple rule: When in doubt, blame it on the X-Men.

Not that it helped him much now, with the world slipping away for the second time and his mind tormented with memories of a life that wasn't real, a son that never existed. A place where all the things he hated about his life... never happened.

He shuddered violently. Peter wasn't bad at sulking-- he often thought he should have minored in it, in case the science didn't work out-- but he tried to get his head in the game, to face whatever they were facing next. He didn't really have eyes at the moment, but he got the impression... of a giant bird, and a voice he half-remembered as Jean Grey, one of the original X-Men (- as seen in “Uncanny X-Men: Eternity #1”). And then...

Just like that, it was all gone, and he was in a dark room, all alone. He seemed to be suspended over nothingness-- nothing to stick to, nothing to sling webs at, worst of all-- nobody to field his assortment of wisecracks. Peter Parker was -utterly- alone. It was maybe more terrifying than fighting the Green Goblin.

And then-- pow!-- let there be light. A -little- light, anyway, and far away. Peter instinctively tried to move toward it...

He couldn't seem to get near enough. It came closer, just so he could see it was a woman, a beautiful brunette in some sort of crown who seemed to be looking him over. Then she opened her mouth and said, in a voice that reflected the wisdom of eons:

--Huh. I thought you'd be taller.--

“Sorry,” he said. “You might be thinking of Captain America. I'm just your friendly neighborhood...”

--Yes, I know. Spider-Man. Really... there's no need to pepper me with catchphrases. I know everything about you.--

“Do you know where I left the TV remote?” Peter asked. “'Cause seriously, I've checked under the couch cushions like fifty times, and all I found was 1.87 in change.”

The woman studied him. She seemed to be coming closer, but still out of arm's reach. --How do you do that?--

“What?”

--Speak other than what is in your heart. You tell jokes to hide your pain.--

“Well, no.” Peter frowned. “I tell jokes because I'm a wise-ass. I have a spiffy mask that hides my pain.”

--Then by all means... let us have done with masks.--

The woman waved her arm, and suddenly Peter stood before her out of costume. -Completely- out of costume. In fact, he was nude.

“Aw!” he cried in dismay. “They took my clothes when I joined the New Avengers, too! What IS it with villains these days? At least Doc Ock's not a pervert!”

--What you see is the physical manifestation of what your mind knows... you can hide nothing here. Your every thought is as plain as...--

“Okay! Point made! You da man--woman--witch-- whatever! NOW can I have my undies back?!”

The woman frowned, then gestured with her open hand. --As you wish. It makes no difference.--

When Peter looked down again, he was back in costume, although still unmasked. “Much better.”

--Is it?--

He was ready with another barb-- a pretty good one-- but Peter stopped. “Why wouldn't it be?”

She shrugged. At this distance, he could see that her eyes were very blue. --I did not bring you here, Peter Parker. It was you who called out to me.--

“I knew I shouldn't leave my cel phone on when I go into battle. Would you believe, wrong number?”

--Was it?-- she asked again, and somehow that stare made Peter feel naked all over again. --I have seen every dream that ever was shattered. Every promise never kept, forever. But never have I felt such a noble heart break.--

Peter couldn't find a floor to study, so he just looked away. “Yeah. That's really not a 'story time' thing. That's a 'laugh it off and get all broody later' kind of thing. Just ignore me. Sorry if I interrupted your dinner, or... whatever it is you do with your time... I'll just show myself out...”

--A child,-- she said. --Much beloved. Now lost to you. Is it not so?--

She reached out to him. Her touch was like a warm rain washing over Peter, reminding him of another place and time. He wanted to tell her everything... anything... and knew that she would keep his secrets. But...

“NO!” he said, pulling away. “Haven't you people had your fun YET? This isn't a game, it's my life! Just... go away!”

--We people?-- she asked.

“You! And Wanda, and Magneto, and-- DAMN them! I should have killed them like I told Logan! No-- I should never have joined the Avengers at all!”

--And will that make it better?-- the woman asked patiently. --Will that bring him back?--

“No,” Peter said, his hands clenched into fists. He looked around-- there was nothing to hit. He simmered instead. “No, nothing can do that.”

--You hurt. You -hate-,-- she said. --Perhaps for the first time.--

“No, not the first time. Just...” Peter shut his eyes tight. “He never even -was-. MJ and I lost a daughter... stillborn. That was hard. But at least I didn't know her... didn't get to hear her laugh... or hold her hand and promise that I would keep her safe. That nothing could...” He choked back tears, then a fierce flush of embarrassment. “I can't protect what isn't even real. There's nothing to fight against. He's just... nothing. How can my son be nothing?”

The woman shrugged, offered no answer. He saw pity in her eyes, and wondered if he loved or hated her for that.

He whispered, “Why would she want to hurt us like this?”

--Wanda Maximoff is not to blame,-- the woman said. --There is something more to this game. A force of darkness.--

Peter grunted. “Figures. What are you, then?”

--A force of light.--

From a certain angle, she did kind of look angelic. Peter shook it off. “Sorry; I'm not especially religious.”

-- Religion, philosophy, science. It is all a matter of -belief-. What do you believe, Peter Parker?--

Looking deep into those eyes, he could only give an honest answer: “I believe that power means responsibility. I believe in doing the right thing, just because it's right. And... to the extent I -am- religious... I believe God probably hates me.”

--Because of what you have suffered?--

“Because of what I've done,” he said, faltering. Caught up in memory, the tiny 'snap' he hadn't even... “I killed her, didn't I? Gwen. My son doesn't exist -because- I killed her. Just like Uncle Ben, I was helpless to... I destroyed my own family, as much as Osborne ever did. So what makes me different from him, or any of the freaks I've...”

--You are different,-- said the woman, tilting Peter's chin up to look at her. --None of them could have called to me. They did not have the -belief-... the wish to make things right.--

“But I can't...”

--What if you could?--

Peter sat down-- sat right there on nothing. He figured it'd hold his butt suspended just as well as his feet. He sat there cross-legged for a very long time, just thinking, head in his hands. Then he looked up at the woman and said: “If you're jerking me around, I think I maybe have to kill you.”

--Understandable,-- she said, and didn't waver.

“You can actually... I mean, you would...”

--No,-- she said, --but you can.--

“Me?”

--You have given much to the Universe, Peter Parker. Enough, perhaps, that for a single moment, it might be persuaded to give back to you. Do you understand?--

He nodded, though he really doubted that he did. “What do I have to do?”

--There is a path... a sequence of events. A very thin thread weaved into the many which make up the Multiverse. It will not be easy, finding this path, but I believe it is the one you were meant to tread. The one your -world- was meant to tread.--

He frowned. “I don't really save the world much. I'm a street-level guy.”

--Diversify,-- said the woman blithely. --What was taken away will be restored.--

“Gwen? So then my son will--” He shook his head. “Is that right? I don't think that's right. I think Uncle Ben would tell me... that I have to accept what's happened and move on.”

--Can you?--

Peter hesitated, opened his mouth, then decided to dodge the question. “But how can I screw with lives the way mine was screwed with? I won't do that.”

She shrugged, started to turn. --You might have to work with me here, Peter Parker. I am offering you the keys to the Universe.--

“Sorry,” he said. “I really can be a pain in the butt, I know. But... I just can't. I wouldn't wish this on -anyone- else.”

The woman frowned at him, plainly surprised he hadn't jumped at the chance and done her homage. Peter wondered if that got him any respect. Probably not. --I do not ask you to take life, but to restore it. There are 12 lives... linked to the one you require, scattered. Lost before their time. It was within your power... Spider-Man's power... to save them.”

“Great,” he said. “More guilt. -Love- the guilt. Without guilt, I wouldn't depress me nearly enough.”

--No one can save everyone,-- the woman said. --But... save these, and the tapestry can be repaired. Twelve for one, one for all. Do you understand?--

“Dumas, right? Three Musketeers?”

--Do not JOKE!-- the woman exclaimed, sudden fire in her eyes. Peter leaped back-- or tried to. The darkness around him now seemed to be holding him in place. Peter got a really creepy Venom flashback while the woman said, --You will save twelve. Twelve will save one. One will save all. -Now- do you understand?--

Peter blinked. “Wait... what does saving Gwen have to do with--”

--No more questions!-- she said, and turned her back. --Answers, now. I grant you 24 hours to decide. Choose your life as it now stands, and that is what you will have. Your wife, your aunt, your costume, and the memory of a son. Forever.--

“You couldn't make me forget? Or you wouldn't?”

The woman ignored him. --Choose this path, and you lose all which you know. What is gained... will be for you to determine.--

“I understand,” Peter said, mostly because he was tired of being prompted. “You know this sucks, right? You are intentionally making this suck even harder, and that's just not cool. Do the other goddesses know you're doing this?”

--I freelance.-- The woman's face changed, to something not unsympathetic, and she took his hand. --You will choose, as ever, your responsibility. Where does it lie? With what is... or with what could be?--

“I'm sorry, Peter's mind is blown right now. If you'll leave your name and number...”

--Choose well,-- she said, and in a blink, she was further away again.

“Hey!” Peter called, before she disappeared. “What do I call you? Freaky Omniscient Dream Lady seems so impersonal...”

--Strangely enough,-- the woman said, --one of my names is Gwen.--

“Small world,” Peter said, and then his dream faded to black.

He woke up in the real world, in his bed at the Avengers tower. He could hear MJ, bustling about in the next room. He could smell coffee. He really needed coffee.

Peter pulled himself out of bed and sat there, clutching his forehead, wondering when Auntie Em was going to show up. 'I had the strangest dream... and you were there, and you were there, and you were...'

MJ. Peter looked up again, and froze. -If- he wasn't crazy and -if- he took this deal, she wouldn't be there. Not when he woke up, not ever again. She'd been a big star in the House of M. Did that mean she was happier without him? Was that supposed to make it okay?

Peter rubbed his eyes, groaned, and pronounced judgment on the whole mess:

“Holy -crap-, I hate the X-Men...”

Cont'd