A/N: So here's my first attempt at a Spider-Man fic, I hope you like it.
Disclaimer: I don't own Spider-Man, or Fantastic Four, or X-men, or anything else you recognize. Sparrow is my character, but I don't mind if you use her in your stories as long as you ask me first. I don't understand how a lot of authors are so protective of their OCs, it's not like they're making any money off them, but anyway, on with the story.
Humanity is afraid of new things, things they can't understand or control; it's a sad fact, but it's true. Take the mutant issue, most mutants want nothing more than to be left in peace. Sure there are a few nuts like Magneto and his 'Brotherhood', but hey, there are some bad apples in every batch. For the most part, there's no difference between mutants and ordinaries; they each breathe, work, and love the same. Mutants are just differently abled, but they're also new, and people can't understand or control them. Hence, they're feared. I get that, I understand even if I don't like it, but this anti-mutant attitude is getting way out of hand. Take what happened a few months ago, it still breaks my heart just thinking about it.
Like in almost every story you hear, my day on the date in question started out fairly normally, good even. I had woken up with my wife, MJ, snuggled up beside me, showered, grabbed breakfast, and literally swung out of our apartment for my morning patrols. I remember thinking after a while that I could've stayed in bed, there hadn't been so much as a snagged purse all morning. I was just about to call it quits and head back, when my spider-sense starting going like crazy. Oh well, so much for quiet I guess. I immediately dove off my perch and headed in the direction of the disturbance. I had no idea what was going on, but from the way my spider-sense was acting, it was something bad.
It didn't take me long to find the cause. About six guys were crowded into a back alley, some armed with baseball bats, and all yelling about how they were going to 'Kill the mutant freak!' while enthusiastically beating and kicking something lying at their feet. A red stain surrounded their punching bag, expanding with every minute.
Just then, one of the creeps moved enough that I could see what it was they were beating. My eyes went wide. "Oh my gosh." I whispered, horrorstruck.
Lying at their feet, bleeding and cowering, was a little girl, and she had wings.
I couldn't believe it, she couldn't have been more than 9 years old and here she was serving as a punching bag for a bunch of ignorant creeps! I wouldn't have been surprised if my blood started to boil at that point I was so mad. It took all of my will power not to just swing in and start hitting people, but I couldn't. I had to find a way to draw them away from her, even a few meters, the last thing I wanted was for her to get caught in the middle of the fight and trampled. I had to get their attention completely on me, but that's one thing I'm good at. "Hey," I yelled at them, swinging down to a wall a fair distance from the girl. "Didn't anyone tell you? Pick on Helpless Little Girls Day was last week! Why don't you come over here and try your luck against someone who can fight back?!"
"It's that Spider-freak," one of them shouted. "Get him!!"
All six of them ran at me, brandishing their bats. I smirked behind my mask. "You have no idea how much I hoped you would say that."
I won't bore you with the details, suffice it to say that in no time at all I had six dirt-bags tied up and unconscious. I hurried over to the little girl; she was in a bad way. Every bit of skin I could see was either bruised or bleeding. She was loosing a lot of blood and one of her wings and arms were obviously broken. At the moment though, I was more concerned with internal injuries. She needed help, now. But how was I going to get it? Even if I got the paramedics down here, the girl was a mutant. Just the previous day I had heard of a guy who had a heart attack, and the paramedics called in to help him just sat there and watched him die because he was a mutant. I couldn't risk wasting that kind of time, waiting for help that may or may not come. Where could I take her? My eyes settled on the distant outline of the Fantastic Four headquarters. Perfect. I bent down and picked up the kid as gently as possible, trying not to jar any of her injuries too badly.
"It's ok, it's going to be ok." I soothed as she let out a moan in my arms. "I'm going to get you help."
With that, I jumped into the air with my precious cargo.
A/N: Yes, I know it's short, but it's just a prologue so it's supposed to be. The next chapters will be longer, I promise. I was originally going to make this into a one-shot, but I changed my mind. Any suggestions or improvements you have are welcome. Until next time.