CH27: Think Positive, Unless You're Negative.

School.

The ticking of the clock rang out and bounced off the walls, at least to my senses. We were in a particularly unseasonably hot day, as winter fell away in favour of the early sunbeams of spring, which reflected from what was left of the snow. My jacket and hoodie had been hung over my chair, and I had been ignoring the teacher's prattling for the last five minutes in favour of doodling dragons and bunnies on the margin of my pages.

My right elbow rested on the table, stretching upwards into a fist upon which my cheek laid. My sole remaining eye rolled around, searching the room for something to keep me entertained as the teacher talked about Manifest Destiny. The red marker squeaked as it left a trail of inky red felt on the whiteboard, and I caught the barest hints of the ink's alcohol smell.

My eye lazily drifted to the guy sitting diagonally forward and to the right of me. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his cheek, bumping and rolling off of some zits before he wiped it away. The heartbeat of the girl sitting behind me rose a little as she read a text under the table. A guy sitting at the front farted, and tried to discreetly wave the smell away, only succeeding in pushing it to the guy to his right, who smelled it and sent him a look he didn't notice.

My sight drifted back to the clock on the wall. The minute hand ticks one number forward. Five more minutes until class ends.

'I'm in hell.'

With a sigh, I rub my eye and clamp my teeth down on the inside of my cheek hard, and the pain sharpens everything into focus. I look up, copy everything on the whiteboard fast, and finish a doodle of a dragon breathing flaming bunnies down on a chubby Super Rabbit. The drawing is supremely shitty, but not unrecognizable, so I leave it be.

Maybe I could draw a cat next?

"I swear if something exciting doesn't happen I'm going to set this fucking building on fire."

Surprisingly, it wasn't me that said it. Unsurprisingly, it was MJ.

"I know how you feel," I grumble. We're sitting in the Art classroom, eating lunch since no one else is there. "Widow warned me off of the investigation, so now I'm just simmering in my own investigative juices."

"Gross." She says, before taking a bite out of her sandwich. Mouth full, she asks, "How come you can't help out?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D.'s full of little bitches that want to arrest me," I huff. "So now the mooks and the Avengers have standing orders to detain me if I try to help. That's the U.S. brand of gratitude for you."

It'd been less than a week since the double fight with Sandman and Vulture. MJ and I hadn't been able to talk much, since Li told her parents about 'the thief that hurt her' and they'd grounded her so she learned her lesson about not running towards loud noises.

She'd managed to get Li's Little Lexicon of Lowlife Lads (or his notebook full of criminal contacts, if you have a thing against alliteration) to Kam, though, who got it to me, and I gave it to Nat.

Thanks to that, S.H.I.E.L.D. had been rounding up every low life in Jersey affiliated with Negative directly or indirectly, as the man's house of cards fell around him. The organization was keeping Li himself under watch while they gathered solid evidence of his involvement, but some coded messages from Nat (delivered by Matt when I stopped by his place on the weekend) said that they were real close.

Nothing on Octavius, though. That, if I knew my comics (and I abso-fucking-lutely did), meant that he'd eventually have a big fight with me while Negative escaped to lick his wounds and plan his revenge.

"In any case," I started. "It looks like there's not long until Midtown's fixed."

Mostly thanks to some donations by one Tony Stark. According to Nat, he likes me being in the same city as him so he doesn't have to travel far to catch me if I step out of line. What a fucking blowhard.

"Oh," Michelle said, face going blank. "I mean, that's great."

"Eh," I shrugged. "School's school. It'll be nice to hang out with Peter, Gwen and Flash, but I'll miss you and Kam."

"... do you just have a maximum of three friends per city?" MJ asked.

"What? No, I-" I stopped to think about it. "Sonuva whore, I think I do. Wait, no, I have other friends! Holy shit, I have like seven friends in New York alone, that's a lot more than I thought I had."

MJ snorted, but her face went blank again soon after. I looked at her curiously, and thought that maybe I should do something. But the way her lips were pressed together made me think she probably had something she was working up to saying, so I just decided to be sensible for once and stay quiet.

"I'll miss you too," she finally said. "Like, I don't have a lot of friends either, and it was nice to talk with you."

"Thanks," I said, genuinely flattered. "We could still hang out, though. It pretty much takes me like ten minutes to swing around from New York to here and back."

"Oh, yeah, sure," MJ said, nodding.

I waited for her to say more, and so did she.

So I waited for her to realize I was waiting and say something, and so did she.

So I waited for her to notice that it just wasn't happening. So did she.

Hm. This was getting increasingly awkward. Seems that I had to start the conversation.

... how did I start conversations, again?

FUCK! Okay, quick, think of something to talk about.

The weather? Fuck no. That never goes anywhere.

People in New York? That'd just get awkward fast! Come on, think, stupid!

What would Peter do in my shoes? Flounder awkwardly, same as me.

What about Gwen? Wait, Gwen!

"Concert?"

"What?"

Shit!

"Uh, I meant to say..." I cleared my throat and tried again. "Gwen, Peter's girlfriend, plays the drums in a band, and I was wondering if you'd like to come with me and see them play?"

"Are they any good?"

"I dunno. Maybe?" I shrugged. "I'd like to say I have faith in Gwen and her band, but I literally never heard her play anything so..."

"Shining endorsement there, Jake." MJ chuckled, before shrugging. "Um, yeah. Where is it?"

"The Bar. It's basically a nightclub where villains meet."

MJ's eyes widened and they got a worrying gleam. "Dude. I'm so in."

It was a few days before Midtown was completely fixed that I knew I was due my big fight.

It started with a call from Nat shortly after I woke up.

"We're getting ready to roll in Negative. Probably within the week." She said, in lieu of something like 'hello'. "Thought you should know."

"Thanks." I said. "What-"

She hung up.

That's the thing about talking with Nat. You didn't. Nat talked to you, and maybe she let you participate.

It could get annoying.

I briefly wondered, as I got ready for the day, why she didn't just text me, before I realized that it was probably so whoever tapped her phones (S.H.I.E.L.D., Tony Stark, and maybe HYDRA) knew that I knew. There was probably a huge spy game thing there, with quadruple agents and some more spy bullshit.

I just met up with MJ and Kam at the Circle Q and dragged them over to the back room to tell them the news.

"That's great!" Kam said.

"Except it's not," I said, making a 'chill out' gesture. "We still don't know where Octavius is."

"Right," MJ said. "We need to tie that loose end, or Negative will be out before we know it."

No, that didn't make sense. Doctor Octopus could barely stand to work with others, let alone be somebody's henchman. If Negative got caught, Otto would just go into hiding to plan for my destruction.

I put a hand to my chin and frowned. Dammit, where could he be? It had to make sense, but it had to fit narratively with his character. I'd been trying to figure this out since Vulture confirmed that Doc Ock was involved, and though I had some ideas, I hadn't managed to confirm anything. I could go around, but it could end up being a serious waste of time.

... I had to find him. Loose ends eventually tied into nooses around my neck.

"Kam?" I said. "I'm going to miss a few days. I'm putting everything into finding Octavius."

"Why are you so focused on this guy?" MJ asked. "I get you have a thing with Norman Osborn-" she gracefully ignored the wince that pulled my expression at the name, "And this guy is probably trouble, but you're weirdly focused on this."

I tapped my foot, trying to come up with a quick explanation.

"It's... complicated," I tried. "Not just because of OsCorp. For one, I don't think letting mad scientists hang around and prepare is smart. And he will. I can tell you right now he's not with Negative because they're buddies."

"How? You yourself admitted to never having met the guy." Kamala said.

I winced.

'Stupid. Idiot. You said too much.'

"Look. I'd like to talk about this, but I can't. Not out of a lack of trust for you." Well, kind of. I didn't trust they wouldn't think I was crazy if I explained the details of my reincarnation.

Maybe if it was just that. Gwenpool earned Bartroc the Leaper and her other friends' trust when they eventually started taking her word about the tropes and, in the case of Bartroc, even believed her about comic-world being a comic.

But I was Spider-Man and I was reincarnated and I originated, in mind at the very least, from a different world where all around me was a comic of some sort. Or at the very least a poorly written fanfiction, if I let myself have a minor existential crisis at the possibility of this being a Self-Insert Scenario.

Comic Book characters have one extremely weird thing about them. Maybe more to justify it and/or make them fit in the world around them.

Peter Parker and his Powers, with his incredible intelligence to justify why he was at that science show and to make him fit in a world where 'genius' meant a whole lot more than you'd think.

The Fantastic Four, with Reed Richards being the most intelligent and least wise man around to explain why the whole incident happened.

The X-Men and the X-Gene, with each of their powers giving them an unique individual fuck-upedness. Similar with the Inhumans.

It wasn't always there, sometimes heroes had a hundred weird things about them, like Cable's cyborg-psychic-mutant-time-travelling ass, but they were the oddities born in the 90's.

Not to mention that arbitrary skepticism was very much a force in this world of marvels. Look at how Miles acted with Gwenpool.

"Just..." I raised a hand. "Just, please trust me."

"Okay." Kamala said.

... oh.

"Wait, just like that?" I asked.

"I mean, I like knowing stuff, but it's fine if you can't tell us." Michelle shrugged. "You're like, a spy-ninja and stuff. It makes sense you can't talk about some things."

"Oh."

Good, kind people. Easier to find than you'd think, but very much worth having around.

"Thanks," I said. "I'll make a call to my folks and have them cover for me, then I'll go investigate."

"Your parents just let you miss school for heroing?" Kamala asked. "Aren't they worried about your education?"

"In the same vague sense that they worry about global warming," I said. "It's something that will eventually cost us, but between everything else going on, it feels weird to worry about it, so they don't think about it too much."

Huh. That metaphor fit way better than it should.

"Anyway, we should talk about what you two should do while I'm hunting this bespectacled dick-"

"Ew!"

"-I heard it as soon as I said it, sorry."

May and Ben had been quick to assure me they'd make sure the school wouldn't make a fuss over me disappearing for a while.

This freed me up to do my rounds.

Now, when it came to mad scientist lairs in fiction, they really could fit anywhere if that was all that set them apart from other villains. A mad scientist can set up shop wherever they please, from literally inside an active volcano to outer goddamned space. If that was all I knew about Doc Ock, I'd be well and truly fucked.

But I knew more. I knew his pride would mean he'd stay near NYC or Jersey for the sake of facing off with me. I knew he had a whole totem-mystic-obsession thing with octopi, so he'd be near or in water. And since I was in a Spider-Man story, it'd probably be inside an abandoned warehouse.

(Seriously, how many bad guys has 616-Peter fought in abandoned warehouses? It's nuts.)

So, two days after my chat with Kam and MJ, I was checking out the beachfront properties in Jersey after texting Overdrive to check on how he was doing and if he could do the same in NYC. As it turned out, Overdrive was feeling a tad overwhelmed with all the crime in New York, but he said he felt happy and fulfilled. He also told me he'd do his rounds when he could, but I wasn't too confident on his detective skills.

Luckily, I didn't need to be. Overdrive going around was just me covering all bases. I knew Octavius would be here if Overdrive went around looking for him, because it'd be more dramatic that way. If I hadn't, I'd stumble into an empty lab rigged to explode, and find that Otto had snuck away into my city, where he'd secretly prepare some convoluted scheme that I'd stumble into three days before it came into motion giving me just enough time to stop him.

Comics. What can you do?

So there I was, most of my suit hidden uncomfortably under a closed hoodie, my leather jacket, and jeans. I didn't have shoes on, but even if it wasn't New York City, it was the state of New York. There were weirder things going on than some guy walking around with just Spider-Man themed socks on his feet. I had a backpack with most of my equipment.

It took until almost dusk for me to find something. I was doing a second sweep when I heard something from a warehouse I was sure I'd already passed.

[Metal panels sliding against metal panels, covering cables and moving around, lifting heavy boxes and setting them down carelessly, accompanied by the sound of power tools. All of it stopping when I walked past the building, but now that it had my attention, I could hear someone hissing curses]

'Ah,' I thought, holding back a smile as I just walked past the building, commiting the address to memory. 'I finally found you, you robot-limbed fucker. I'd bet good money the doors and windows are trapped, too.'

I walked about a block past it as I sent a text to MJ then snuck into an alley, changed into my supersuit (leaving the civilian clothes in my backpack and my backpack in the alleyway) and then dropped into the sewers through an easily removed manhole cover.

"Thank god for conveniently spacious sewers," I muttered, crawling on the roof and breathing through my mouth. "If anyone ever changes these so that they're too small for me, I'm fucked."

I walked around until I could hear Ock's lab over me.

[Damn arachnid, how did it know where to find me?]

[The metal of his tentacles sliding around.]

[No matter, I'm done here. I just have to set the explosives and I will be good to go.]

Yeah, no.

I crawled up to the sewer roof then looked around and found a large, important-looking pipe. Using a baton to make a hole on the side, I shoved a few activated web bombs inside then sealed it shut with a web. I crawled away from it until the pipe inflated suddenly and started creaking from the increasing pressure.

[What the-?]

[Gallons of shitwater violently erupting from the toilet like a fireman's hose, bouncing off of the ceiling and a wall.]

[OH NO!]

[Water smashing into two iron tentacles as two more limbs carry a body away from the shitlake that was forming in the bathroom.]

[Why is this happening?!]

Picking that as my cue, I smashed a fist against the ceiling a couple of times until a hole big enough for me was made, and I crawled through it.

Doctor Otto Octavius wasn't exactly as spherical as many comics and cartoons portrayed him. He had love handles, but it was mainly due to him being short and not getting outside much. From his back protuded four long tentacles made of interlocking metallic plates, finishing in four-pronged claws with blue lights coming from the middle. He wore a green bodysuit under a previously-pristine white labcoat and he had two shining green goggles over his eyes.

"Hello, doctor," I said. "I believe we're due for a little heart-to-"

"You remember the plan?" MJ asked.

"Yes, and I can't believe we're doing this," Kamala sighed, as she wrapped her mask around her face and became Ms. Marvel. "Why are we going with Ja- Spidey's plan? This is so much more... morally gray than my usual tactics."

"Well, tailing him hasn't really worked out," MJ pointed out. The two had been stalking Martin Li after school ever since Spider-Man told them he was going to go look for Octavius. That had been three days ago.

The day before, Jake had sent a message saying he'd found his guy, but he hadn't gotten in touch yet. He'd been ready for this, creepily enough, and had told them before that if he suddenly stopped messaging they should just keep acting as normal. And normal wasn't working, so it was time for Plan B.

"No matter what, Jake can't find out this was my idea, okay?"

MJ just smirked at her as she put on a ski mask.

Martin Li had been leading what many could call a stressful life for the last couple of days.

His alter-ego's criminal empire had been crumbling, which would be wonderful except Li was in the sad position of sharing a head with said failing crime lord-

[NOT FAILING. THIS WAS A MERE SETBACK.]

-who'd done nothing but complain and force Martin to run around doing errands for the last week or so. Martin had been running around trying to patch holes in a ship that was starting to resemble swiss cheese while trying to keep people from jumping it, making empty promises in Negative's name as he looked everywhere for Spider-Man's illusive ass.

Bordellos, safehouses and crackhouses were being raided. Labs were getting smashed before they could be moved. Dealers were arrested off the street and the businesses Negative was using to launder money were being investigated and getting caught, F.E.A.S.T. included. And it was all happening with expert coordination with a fucking Avenger at the front, who'd been spotted holding Mister Negative's little black book.

And yet, Spider-Man refused to show his webbed head.

The fact that they-nonottheyjustNegative-had been outwitted by a known teenager was just salt in the wound, at this point.

Although the cream on the cake was probably the way a gigantic arm swooped down and grabbed Martin right off of the street and raised him upside-down to be eye-to-eye with Ms. Marvel, who was standing on a rooftop with some girl wearing a black ski mask.

"Hello there, Jekyll." The girl with the black ski mask said, obviously deepening her voice as she walked over and tapped him in the head. "Can Hyde come out and play?"

"What?" Li said. Did they have the wrong person? Or was it a reference he didn't get?

"We know about negative, Martin," Ms. Marvel said, "Switch or I drop you."

"Oh!" Yeah, that made more sense.

...

"WHAT?!" oh shit oh shit oh shit-

"How do you not know about Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?" the ski mask girl asked, almost offended. "How? Even if you never read it, just by osmosis you should-"

"Can we focus, please?" Marvel looked exhausted. "Look, there's no point in playing dumb, so just-"

"I-I-I don't know anything about Negative! I'm just a bussiness owner! A cool one! I use memes and everything!" Lie, lie, lie! Martin had to bullshit his way out of this and fast!

But, didn't he want to get caught?

No, he could do more if he wasn't in jail. Negative's crimes could be redeemed as they were done, and then some.

"I don't know anything about N-split personalities!"

Marvel and the other girl exchanged a look, before turning back towards him.

It caught Martin by surprise when Ms. Marvel suddenly dropped him. So much so that he didn't even register her saying, "I really hope this works."

The ground was coming in fast and he wasn't going to make it he was going to die he couldn't die he had so much work left to do they had so much work left they couldn't die they couldn't die yet not yet not yet no-

[NOT.]

YET.

Energy burst out of Li, wiping the man away and leaving only the demon as the tendrils of pure power smashed against the broadwalk and cushioned the fall.

Spinning around in the air, Mister Negative landed gracefully on his feet and looked up at those insignificant worms that dared bother him.

"You have just made the last and greatest mistake of your miserable lives."

"Oh good," the rubbery bitch said in a flat tone, "It worked."

Awareness came back with all the gentleness and grace of an elephant tossed by Bruce Banner on a bad day.

"Gah!" It took me a second to take in my surroundings. I was in a different base than the one I found Octavius in; everything was sleek black metal with green lights, I was trapped in some kind of machine with clamps around my hands and feet, and I could see the back of Doc Ock as he worked on a computer in front of me.

He turned and smiled at me, goggles around his neck. "Hello, Spider-Man. I believe we're due for a little heart-to-heart."

Fucker stole my cool line. Can't even resent him that one, it was very well used.

"Fuck you!"

Just kidding, I absolutely resented him.