SPIDER-MAN: ETERNITY
"ACTS OF MERCY"

Rated PG-13 for language and adult situations

(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.)

--

THREE: THE TAPESTRY

“WHOA!”

Peter threw himself flat as something streaked past his head and exploded, knocking him for a loop. He nearly fell right off another roof, but caught himself with a web line and climbed back up...

Just in time to nearly get fragged by another incendiary, a hand-lobbed grenade that resembled nothing so much as a flaming pumpkin.

-All right,- he thought, -now this I remember...-

Peter leaped out of the way, narrowly avoiding the creep who shot past on his glider, cackling with glee. Peter didn't know why super-villains were always so damn gleeful; -he- certainly wasn't having any fun.

The glider came around again, and he got a good look at what he was up against-- red eyes, orange-and-blue costume. Not Norman Osborne, which felt wrong in a way Peter couldn't explain. Just his sicko little knockoff villain-groupie, the Hobgoblin.

Not that Peter could relax. Certain incarnations of the Hobgoblin had been every bit as dangerous as the original-- which one was this? There'd been a whole passel of them; Peter lost track. He looked around again, in the three seconds before the glider would have impaled him. Evening, almost dinnertime. Cool air-- probably early spring. Brooklyn somewhere, he thought.

He did -not- think this was one of the decisive battles where he defeated a Goblin. He would have remembered that much more vividly. Probably just a scuffle; that freed his hands a bit.

At the last second, Peter threw himself out of the way of the glider and hit it smack on the nose with a web. He dug in and -pulled-, yanking the thing to a halt and throwing its rider. The Hobgoblin bailed, but came up throwing another pumpkin bomb. This one missed Peter, but a shard of shrapnel from its explosion bit into his forearm.

“ARGH! Dammit!”

“HahahahahahaHA!” a shrill voice cackled. “Careful, Spider-Man! Playing with my toys can be hazardous to your health!”

“Aw, bite me, Hobby! I'm not in the mood! Besides, they're -clearly- labeled as being appropriate for all children, ages eight to twelve!”

He rolled under the next attack, and-- THWIP!-- nailed the Hobgoblin's bag of tricks with his next web. Crossing the roof in leaps and bounds, he landed a punch to his enemy's jaw. Pretty good blow, snapped his head back. The Goblin snarled and followed with a punch of his own that knocked Peter halfway across the roof.

“Oh, good...” he groaned from the floor. “You're one of the enhanced Goblins. Here I was afraid you might turn out to be a -weak- one...”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” the Hobgoblin said. He ran to edge of the roof, recovered his glider, and hopped on. “But then, -I- was hoping you might turn out to be one of the dead heroes. I'll bet I get my wish before you get yours...”

He blasted toward Peter at full speed. The web-slinger bit back a curse, cast a web-line to the next building over, and swung between the rooftops. He hit the neighboring wall hard and climbed up it. The Hobgoblin was still coming.

“You know something, Hobby?” he panted. “I'm starting to think we have an unhealthy relationship-- I mean, look at us! I'm an anthropomorphic spider, you're dressed for Halloween -way- out of season... this is not normal. I think we're enabling each other.”

“Then consider this an intervention!” the villain snarled. This time when he shot past on the glider, he lashed out hard, kicking Peter. He lost his balance and fell again--

Again, his Spider-Sense went off.

-Oh, really, I'm in trouble now?- he thought. -Do ya THINK, Spider-Sense? Are you absolutely SURE, because I never would have known I...

-Wait. Save life first. Snark later.-

THWIP! He caught himself with a web line and swung down to the street. There was some kind of commotion a little distance away, but Peter was concentrating on the Hobgoblin. He swooped low... then his eyes widened at something a little distance over Peter's shoulder, and he pulled up.

“WE'LL MEET AGAIN, SPIDER-MAN!” he called as he retreated.

“GET A REAL EXIT LINE!” Peter yelled back. He didn't think the twerp was listening.

Then the Hobgoblin dropped one, last pumpkin bomb to remember him by, and Peter wondered if he shouldn't give up taunting psychopaths.

-Nah,- he thought, springing into action. He wrapped up the pumpkin bomb with scads of webbing, caught it, and tossed it as high into the air as he could. It exploded harmlessly, and people cheered.

“Thank you; thank you,” Peter said. “There's another show at... waitaminute...”

He turned; a whole crowd of people had gathered behind him-- but they weren't just watching the costumes fight. They stood in a knot around the First United Bank, where several police officers had parked their black-and-whites and set up a perimeter.

The bank was being robbed! No wonder his Spider-Sense kept pounding away! He'd probably done better the first time he'd scuffled with the Hobgoblin here-- -I'd almost have had to,- Peter thought ruefully, conceding the round to his opponent. But if he -hadn't- gotten knocked down here, he'd have been too busy to even notice the commotion.

-Somebody dies here,- Peter thought. -Somebody I'm supposed to save! This must be what the other heroes call 'good luck.' It feels kinda tingly; I like it!-

A man dressed in a suit with the badge of a police detective ran up to him. Peter tensed; he didn't recognize the guy, and since he didn't know exactly -when- he was, it was impossible to say what was the state of his relationship with the law. Odds were, not so good.

“Spider-Man!” the cop said. “What are you-- never mind, I don't have time to ask questions. Can you get inside there?”

Peter arched an eyebrow; it wasn't too effective behind the mask. “Can't you?”

“There are hostages. We either sneak somebody in there or we take him down.”

On the other hand, the mask meant he didn't have to conceal his smile. “Friendly neighborhood wall-crawler and sneak artist, at your service.”

The cop looked relieved, even grateful. -Wow,- Peter thought, -I got a reasonable one. Who'd have thought? This is just too easy.-

Two minutes later, he had no reason to revise his assessment. He crept over the wall of the bank and, while the police provided a distraction in front, made his way to a back window. He applied a little webbing (to keep it from shattering) and a bit of Spider-strength to pop it open. Then he lowered himself into what appeared to be a restroom.

Peter breathed a sigh of relief. He'd probably triggered all kinds of silent alarms, but no -noisy- ones. He pictured the headlines Jonah would cook up if he'd screwed up there and gotten hostages killed. Talk about changing history for the crappy.

People inside the bank were still talking, shouting, some of them crying. They were terrified. Peter hopped up onto the ceiling and crept forward an inch at a time.

He turned a corner and saw them: Maybe a dozen hostages huddled against the walls, covered by three men and a woman in black masks. One of the men held a telephone in his free hand, and the woman was arguing with him:

“--do you think we're gonna get out of this, huh? Can't you see it's all gone to hell?”

“I'm not going to jail!” one of the men snapped. He uncovered the telephone. “Anybody thinks they're taking me to jail, they're gonna have to step over all these bodies to get me! Do you hear that?”

“-Everybody- heard that! --!” the woman swore heartily. “Now they think they've gotta kill us! I don't wanna die, Joey!”

“You're not gonna die-- just do like I tell you!”

“-- what you tell me! I didn't want to be here in the first--”

“Just SHUT UP!” Joey snarled. Dropping the phone, he turned and backhanded the woman across the face. She hit the ground; it was lucky her gun didn't go off. One of the hostages screamed.

The woman lay on the ground, staring up at the man with hate and fear mingled in very wide brown eyes. Joey glared back at her. Then, panting, he picked up the phone.

“No, there's no problem... there ain't no problem, I tell you! You just remember what I--”

THWIP! Joey's gun disappeared from his hands.

“What the hell?!” He looked all around. So did the other two men. None of them had looked -up- yet, so they didn't see the costumed fellow on the ceiling.

The woman did. Peter nodded to her-- what he hoped was encouragement. She lowered her eyes, but didn't give him away. And then, a moment later, it didn't matter.

THWIP! THWIP! Two solid bolts stuck the other two hoods to the walls, their mouths crammed with webbing. Joey froze, turned around slowly as Peter dropped down behind him.

“Oh, cra--”

“Hi,” said Peter, and he decked the man.

He would think later what a mistake that had been. He didn't have to -punch- Joey-- he could have secured him with webbing like the others. But Peter Parker had a streak of old-fashioned good guy in him that saw red when Joey hit the woman. He wanted to serve up some punishment-- just a little-- to instill better manners in the creep.

Unfortunately, he overdid it. Joey stumbled backward, flipped over a chair, and landed right in front of his hostages. There was a kid-- maybe sixteen years old. Joey grabbed him and pulled a knife out of his jacket, too fast for even Peter to stop him, and slid it under the boy's throat.

“Stay back!” he growled. “I swear I'll--”

BANG!

Joey stopped talking. The boy screamed-- his jacket now sported a cheerful red stain, and he was out of his mind with terror. He pushed and kicked and struggled to get out from under Joey's body, which now lay still.

There was a bullet-sized hole in his one side of his head, courtesy of a police sniper.

Peter stared in mute shock-- his mind beginning to form the words -I failed-- but then the woman said it for him.

“You killed him,” she whispered. “I don't believe it. He would have--”

Peter never heard the rest. His Spider-Sense went off again, and then he was falling, the room spinning around him, spinning into blackness, which-

--

--which gave way to the top of the Avengers Tower. Peter finished the game right where he'd started it. Apparently he didn't even rate a “Thanks for playing, here are some lovely parting gifts” from Omniscient Lady.

“No,” he breathed. “You can't end it now. Please...”

Nobody answered.

-But... I can't have failed already! Not on the first try! It was such an EASY one! I must have pulled off rescues like that a thousand times! No way!-

He leaped off the tower again-- this time, he did spin a web. Then another, and another, swinging through the city at his best speed, too angry at himself and the world to worry about where he was going or why. He just couldn't deal with anything else.

-If I had -one more chance-...- he thought. -I could have done SOMETHING... maybe I didn't think fast enough, maybe I should have done it smarter... maybe if I'd beaten the Hobgoblin first, I could have used one of those pumpkins with the gas inside to knock everybody out...-

The Hobgoblin. Something else clicked. Peter knew why he'd gotten a funny feeling when he realized it was the Hobgoblin he fought and not his predecessor, the Green Goblin. He even knew why he'd failed. Then he knew something else, something he should have known all along...

“NO!”

He dropped down to the street. He walked from there. Suddenly he was sick of anything that reminded him of being Spider-Man. Right at that moment, he wished Wanda Maximoff had changed history so that he'd never become the wall-crawler... or never been born at all.

--

The sun was peeking over the tops of the skyscrapers by the time Luke Cage caught up with him. Peter had gotten tired somewhere around Queens and sat down on the first stoop he saw. Since then, a couple of people had tried to make him move. After he picked up a three-hundred-pound bodybuilder type by the scruff of the next and requested his space, nobody argued anymore.

Luke Cage looked like he might argue. He might be able to back it up, too. Peter didn't care.

“Hey,” the big man said. “Stark sent me to find you.”

Peter studied the ground. “Screw Stark, and screw you, too.”

“I'm going to assume you didn't mean that.” Cage hesitated. “About your son...”

“He's not coming back. There's nothing I can do. He was never real.”

“Surprised you realize that.”

Peter shrugged. “Something made me realize it-- just now. Hey, Wanda gave herself imaginary children, right? What's one more? Do you think I get an imaginary Father's Day card or...”

“Pete.”

“...no, 'cause I'm saying, if it's an imaginary ugly tie, do I have to wear it? Can I just -pretend- it's a nice tie, because I could go either way on...”

“Pete!”

“...but you know, I guess that's what I deserve, right? I'm a sucker. I -fell- for it. Her line. 'Oh, you're such a noble hero. Let me give you your heart's desire.' Only NOBODY can give me my heart's desire, 'cause what I really desire is just not to be such a FREAKING idiot about--”

“PETER!”

He looked up. Cage touched his shoulder, surprisingly gentle.

“This ain't helping, man.”

“No...” he agreed. “You're right, it's not.”

“C'mon back to the tower with me. We'll talk to Stark, and...”

Peter pushed him away. “No, I don't think so. I think that's enough for me, thanks. I'm going to retire into quiet disgrace and write my memoirs, like Nixon. Jonah will -never- believe I'm not a crook...”

“Look,” Cage said, grabbing him again. “You're stressed. You're hurting. I get it, man. But you can't--”

“Just GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME, ALL RIGHT?”

He pushed Cage pretty hard. Cage pushed back. And that... is right about where you came in, gentle reader. They traded a couple of punches and Peter ended up flat on his back on the concrete, wondering whether he shouldn't re-evaluate his life and become a monk or something. Sure, it was a crummy haircut, but he had a head start on the vow of poverty.

“Are we done here?” Luke Cage asked, glowering down at him.

“Sorry,” said Peter as he picked himself off the ground. “Maybe you don't know who you're talking to.”

He rounded on Cage like a different man-- a raw and furious look on his face that his colleague had never seen before.

“I'm not some emo punk who needs a pep talk and a Lifesaver.”

WHAM! He staggered the other man with a solid blow.

“I'm freaking -Spider-Man-. I've been at this since you were -nobody-...”

BAM! A roundhouse left knocked Cage off his feet.

“I can bench-press a Buick and outsmart the Hulk-- which I -swear- sounded impressive in my head!”

CRUNCH. He ripped a mailbox out of the ground and smashed it across Cage's shoulders.

“And I've just had my brain --ed for the SECOND time today and lost my WHOLE FREAKING FAMILY!”

WHAM! He avoided Cage's countering blow, stepped around him, and kicked the former Power Man into the street.

“So Luke, if it seems to you I'm acting a little funny--”

BAM!

“--or if I happen to need some time to get my head on straight--”

POW!

“--well, you're just going to have to DEAL!”

BLAM! Peter fell to his knees as the final blow hit home. He'd exhausted every once of strength, every option, and while he sat there, exhausted mentally, emotionally, and physically, the target of his wrath... picked himself up, shook his head a few times, and brushed the gravel off his jeans.

“We done -now?-” asked Luke Cage, who seemed essentially unhurt.

“Damn unbreakable skin,” Peter murmured. “Yeah, we're done.”

“Sure you don't want to get anything else off your chest?”

“Nah; that was all.”

“You gonna come with me quietly?”

Peter stood. “I'm bad at quiet. I'll come noisy but non-belligerent.”

“Works for me,” said Cage, and they walked off together.

--

On the way to the Avengers Tower, Peter put a little more of the puzzle together. He remembered the man at the bank now-- Joey Strickland, a small-time hood who'd once been featured in a Bugle expose on... prison conditions or something. Jonah had been been pretty upset that piece hadn't gotten more attention-- apparently even Strickland himself had ignored it. The guy Peter saw certainly hadn't reformed; he would have gone back to prison even if Peter had managed to prevent his death. Peter wondered vaguely why the Lady had -wanted- him saved... and wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Peter and Cage got ID'd at the door and paced through the lobby in silence. Cage kept stretching and wincing-- if Peter hadn't exactly laid the smack down, he'd at least left his opponent sore.

Peter reached the elevator and punched the button mechanically, almost ignoring the young woman who sat off to the side at a receptionist's desk.

Then he did a double-take. The woman's brown eyes looked familiar...

-Ding-, said the elevator. Luke Cage started to step inside, but stopped when he realized Peter wasn't following. “Something wrong?”

“...the hell?” Peter practically leaped on top of the woman's desk. “You! Who are you? What do you think you're...”

“Sorry?” she said, confused and a little nervous. “It's-- I'm Maria! Maria Strickland!”

“And... but you were...” Peter felt like he needed a chair. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, you ought to know.” She frowned past his shoulder at Luke Cage, all but making a whirlybird motion around her ear. “-You- sent me to Mr. Stark. It was after you saved my life...”

Now Cage got into the act. “You never told us you saved her life.”

“I... don't like to brag...”

“Oh, a big super-hero like Spider-Man, I guess he doesn't even remember me.”

Peter nodded dumbly, but he -was- starting to remember.

Joey Strickland had been involved in a Bugle expose on prison conditions, all right. He'd been dead at the time, after attacking another inmate unsuccessfully. Everybody agreed the guy had been a real hard case; he'd even shot his own wife when the robbery that got him arrested went bad.

“I was -so- screwed-up back then,” Maria continued, after giving Cage the short version of the new and improved robbery scene. “But Mr. Stark's been wonderful... he even stepped in to pay for my defense. He said he's needed a few second chances himself... oh!”

This last came as a yelp of surprise as Peter leaped suddenly to the window. “Sorry, guys. Be right back.”

THWIP! He hauled himself up the wall, heading toward the top of the tower yet again.

Luke Cage and Maria Strickland peered out the window for a long moment after he was gone. Then the secretary turned to the superhero and said:

“He knows he's allowed to use the elevator, right?”

--

On top of the Avengers' Tower, with the wind whipping through his... well, hood... the Amazing Spider-Man called to himself all his powers of telepathy-- ignoring the fact that, sadly, he -had- no powers of telepathy-- and called to no one in particular:

-You're not really gonna make me click my heels, are you?-

Apparently not. The sunny sky turned black; the city beneath him disintegrayed. The Lady appeared, already close to him this time. Apparently she wasn't in the mood to waste time, even though she had all of it.

--I really would have been amused by the clicking,-- she said.

“Sorry, but I'm through amusing you. I finished right around the time you used me to kill a guy.”

--But I didn't,-- said the Lady. --I used you to save the woman. He would have died anyway; she didn't have to.--

“Still not really my style. Were you planning to -tell- me I'd actually succeeded?”

The Lady frowned. --I assumed you'd know the next time I sent you into the past. Besides... I liked the look on your face.--

“Swell.” Peter groaned. “You still lied to me.”

--Did I?--

“Yes, about Gwen. None of this is meant to save her.”

--I never said it was,-- said the Lady. To her credit, those blue eyes managed to look faintly ashamed. --How did you know?--

He shrugged. “Gwen was long gone by the time the Hobgoblin showed up. You said saving all 12 would restore her... how can it, if my changes to the timeline come after she died?”

--Now or then, it is the same. The sequence of events means little to me.--

“But a lot to us. You said time was a tapestry. All these lives... it's like a butterfly effect, isn't it? You're putting history back together, a piece at a time. When I've saved them all, the ripple effect of their actions will do... what?”

The Lady looked away-- for so long, in that timeless place, Peter was afraid she'd forgotten him. Then she said: --I shouldn't have picked a superhero who was an honor student.--

“Or lied to me,” Peter repeated, “or used my family to lie. You don't do that, lady. -Ever-.”

--I lied by implication only, not by my words. Twelve will save One, and One will save All, and this -will- heal you.--

“Is that supposed to be my reward? Some mystical healing? All I want is to forget the House of M! That'd heal me! But you won't give me that, will you?”

--No.-- Somehow, even though Peter could have recited seven ways in which he held the moral high ground, the Lady managed to make him feel guilty: --If you seek a reward, Peter Parker, you should serve the Darkness. The Light offers none.--

“Damn,” he muttered. However shifty her methods had been, it was impossible to stand there under the weight of all those years reflected in the Lady's eyes and not believe she was sincere in her purpose. And if she was...

“Okay,” Peter said at length.

--You will continue?-- the Lady pressed, as though not quite able to believe it. --You will save the others?--

“I'll try,” he said. “But there are a couple of things I want. Let's start with that guidance you promised. This shuttling back and forth through time is giving me whiplash...”

--

So that's how they got me into it. Spider-Man wanted a partner in the future to keep tabs on the changes for him-- to make sure it came out right, and to make sure the Lady was playing him straight. How'd he put it? “The Quantum Leap dude has help, and he don't even stick to walls.”

I know what you're asking. Why me? Don't I have enough trouble without the mystical knowledge of some goddess' bull-- plan to change the future? Well, yeah, I do. But I've also got a certain amount of sympathy for anybody screwed over by the House of M. By helping Peter now, I'm keeping him connected to the New Avengers-- I got a feeling we might need him someday. And once the bruises faded, that thumping he gave me ended up curing a nasty pain in my sciatica .

Most important, somebody told me a man should believe in doing what's right just because it's right. Might sound funny coming from a guy who used to run a Heroes for Hire outfit, but I do agree with that. Twelve will save One, and One will save All. That's pretty damn good incentive.

Funny thing is, I got an idea who the one might be. Peter doesn't see it yet-- maybe if he could, he wouldn't be able to do what he's got to do. When the time comes, though? I think he will.

Like the lady said, he ain't one to let us down.

END?

See the “X-Men: Eternity” series: Uncanny X-Men, Generation: Eternity, X-Force, X-Factor, and New X-Men, online now!