Recovery

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***

I return to the ward and notice that the medical staff has come round.

- What's going on? - I ask the nurse.

- Preparing Mrs Parker for surgery.

- Already?

- That's right, since Miss Hardy has confirmed the transfer of funds to the hospital accounts, we have no reason to delay the operation," said the doctor who had entered the room.

- Thank you," the apathy receded for the first time since I'd received that unfortunate phone call.

- It's not worth it. The operation will be long and your aunt will need a good night's sleep afterwards. You should come back tomorrow afternoon, son.

- I guess you're right, tomorrow's Monday and school starts, thanks Dr Tall.

- Have a good day, Peter.

Now it really looks like it's going to be.

Still, before we go home, there are some pressing matters to attend to.

We'll order first, then we'll go to the derelict.

Need to sort out what's happening to me.

I'm going to the roof. I look around, listening to my gut. Clear.

I put on my suit, cling to the building and fly towards Chinatown.

*

The good old weaving workshop, the first materials for my costume were purchased here. Ahh, memories.

I walk in, nothing's changed.

It's like the merchandise hasn't even moved. Except that the old saleswoman has been replaced by a pretty young girl.

- Good morning, - I greet the employee.

- Hello, - the girl smiles back at me, - are you interested in something?

- Here it is, - I hand the girl a list.

As she reads it, the girl frowns.

- Some of these polymers will be very hard to get.

- Really? The old lady I ordered from last time bragged that you could get absolutely everything.

- That's my grandmother, she tends to exaggerate, although knowing her contacts... we might be able to get it for you. But it won't be cheap.

- Don't worry, money's no problem. If I'm gonna get involved with Tombstone, we'll put it to good use.

- Great, we'll have it to you within the week. Should I put the order in a name?

- Would a nickname work?

- We don't care, it's up to the customer," the girl shrugs her shoulders.

- Then put in Cain.

- Wow, that's dramatic.

- You have no idea.

- See you later, "Mr Cain."

Without turning round, I wave goodbye.

Okay, this is more important now.

*

Abandoned industrial estates. I love you guys.

There's always something to do.

I jump the fence and go inside the warehouse.

Suddenly, my eye catches the huge graffiti of a spider on the far wall. This discovery makes me smirk slightly.

It's great that I'm inspiring young people to vandalise.

It's also good to see that I'm wearing a costume this time.

I should take more responsibility in places where Spider-Man and Peter Parker appear. Also less scorching abilities like Peter.

Now, no flips in the room and preferably, when returning from patrols, more sneaking around in the shadows to the house and keeping an eye on the tail. Spidey sense to help me.

Okay, let's get down to what I came here to do in the first place.

I take off my glove and look at the small holes. The claws looked pretty impressive, I thought they were going to tear the gloves at the base of the fingers.

I look at the palm of my hand, and then I imagine the claws coming out of my fingers.

And-and-and-and-and, nothing.

Okay. Second try.

I remember the sensation of the claws being released.

And-and-and nothing again.

Okay. Third chance. Overlaying the sensations on the picture.

With a sharp whooshing sound, the claws come out of my fingers.

I bring them closer to my face.

I can see why the holes in the gloves were so small. Apparently, chitin is at the core of the outgrowths, and they grow as they emerge from underneath normal human nails. Apparently before release, they are located just underneath them.

Not quite sure how this works in terms of the biology of my body. Are the normal soft tissues of my fingers mutated or what? What about under X-rays?

All right, let's put scientific enquiry aside. What are these babies capable of?

I don't know exactly what materials Reno's suit is made of, but the bullets didn't leave a dent in it, and my claws went through butter like a knife through butter, I even felt how I got to his flesh.

I look at the concrete wall and swipe sharply at it, scratching the surface. More like cutting. The furrows are quite deep. It's the power of the spider.

I'm sure that if I continue like this, I'll cut my way through this wall in about ten minutes.

That's not bad.

I wonder what about stronger materials? Vibranium or adamantium?

Okay, but it's okay to dream, right?

Suddenly, I'm struck by the thought, "Isn't this a sign of my unstoppable mutation into a Spider-Monster?

Just thinking about Spidey '94 mutating into a monster makes me cringe. As a kid, I thought the Neogenic Nightmare arc was the creepiest thing ever. They don't show that now.

I must look into the matter. Alas, my own knowledge of the intricacies of genetics may not be enough. But I can't trust my DNA to just anyone.

Doc Connors, maybe? No, right now it could be the flick to risk him experimenting on me with lizard DNA. I don't feel like climbing the sewers for a reptile.

Besides, the Jackal's hanging around.

But to whom?

Okay, we'll see.

I'm pulling my claws back in. Well, either way, a new ability is cool.

All right, time to go home.

***

NYPD station. It's daytime.

George Stacy's office.

There are dozens, sometimes hundreds, of crimes committed in New York City every day. Of course, half of them are petty, but even that's enough to keep the police busy.

So why does he keep scouring the Parker case for evidence?

Because Peter's a friend of Gwen's? Or is it because George just likes him? Like the son he never had? Or maybe it's all about what he saw in the boy's eyes when he discussed the tragedy with him?

The boy would make a mistake if he didn't take control of the case.

Which was why George was studying the thirty-second video of a van that matched the description of the few witnesses.

Completely unremarkable. No identifying marks. The only thing we can establish is that similar vehicles are used by various businesses to transport equipment.

Still, it's like looking for a needle in a New York haystack.

We'll have to bring in forensics.

He gave himself his word he'd help the guy who lost his uncle.

***

The bay off the coast of New York. Battleship Shattering.

The door to the captain's quarters opened abruptly.

- XO Yunce, explain yourself!

- I apologise, Captain. You didn't show up for the briefing. It was necessary to see if you were all right.

- As you can see, I'm fine.

There was a sudden noise from the wardrobe.

- Captain?

The XO heard a muffled mooing.

He moved to the cupboard and opened the door.

A bound Captain Davis fell to the carpet.

- What?

- You shouldn't have come, XO - "Captain Davis" pointed a silenced pistol at Younes.

There were several muffled pops.

Captain Davis stared in shock at the corpse of his crewman.

- You shouldn't have made that noise, Captain. The kid's death is on your conscience. And I'm behind schedule.

The impostor put some documents into a suitcase, handcuffed it to him, and, swinging his cap in Davis's direction, left the cabin.

With a calm but quick step, the impostor moved down the corridor, glancing at his watch.

3

Passing soldiers nodded to the "captain".

2

The impostor moved towards the north deck.

1

Walked into the guard room.

- Sir?

There was an explosion that shook the ship.

- We've got a breach, soldier! Sound the general alarm! Get your men to the far deck, move, move, move!!!!

The lieutenant saluted the commander and rushed to press the alarm button, - Attention, perimeter breach. Attack, I repeat, attack. Direct your men to the far deck," came a voice from the speakers.

"Captain Davies, meanwhile, headed for the south end and began lowering the lifeboat.

After putting on his life jacket and being on the dinghy, the imposter moved towards a small boat that appeared on the horizon.

- How did it go? - asked the grey-haired, short old man, waiting for the "captain" to board.

- Boring. Soldiers are like children, they listen to their superior in rank. Cancel the last one, though. It's more difficult with children, - the impostor handed the old man a suitcase.

- What do I think?

- Check it out?

The old man opened the suitcase and started checking the blueprints.

- Are we happy?

- Quite happy. You did a good job, Chameleon. The customer will be happy.

- It's more important that he sends the right amounts to the right accounts, Tinkerer.

- Don't worry, Kingpin always pays his bills.

- All right, let's get out of here.

The small but manoeuvrable boat began its journey towards New York.

***

Parker house. Middle of the day.

I decided to be more careful this time and changed into civilian clothes a few blocks from my house. It's extremely uncomfortable. When you change clothes, you feel safer in your own home. But these feelings are deceptive. We'll get used to being a soldier. And indulge our paranoia.

Yay....

Entering the house, I walked into the living room. None of the Watson girls were there. Probably went home.

I went to the fridge and noticed a post-it:

"Tiger, Aunty Anne and I went grocery shopping, have dinner with us tonight, love you. MJ."

I smile at the note.

Okay, that's taken care of.

What should I do?

I should deal with the actual problem after all.

I go down to the lab and switch on my laptop.

NYU's biology department is the best, I can't argue with that. What about private labs under the auspices of the university?

I open the list of such enterprises and look at the names of the scientists involved.

At number seventeen, I freeze.

Dr Maria Crawford.

The name echoes in my mind from the distant past.

I don't know what the local version of Dr Crawford is like, hopefully not messing around with the local Kraven the Hunter, but she's a geneticist. And her research is strictly confidential. It's worth a visit to the good doctor.

But we'll wait till tonight.

In the meantime, let's tackle a project I've been putting off for a long time.

I've been using all the equipment my father left me to develop shooters, cartridges and the like.

But I decided to save the remaining parts for the development of the spiderbot prototype.

It was time to tackle that project.

Four hours later.

- Pete? - MJ called, going down into the basement, which Parker called his laboratory.

All the girl heard in response was a strange scraping sound from deep within the room.

The redhead began to descend, closing the casement behind her. After walking up a few steps, Mary began to watch from above as her boyfriend was mastering something, bent over a table.

- Peter!

A shout helped and the guy jumped up in surprise.

- Mary, don't sneak up on me like that!

- And you, next time either answer back or lock up. What if it wasn't me, but a policeman?

- Yeah, I don't think you should be so careless with your equipment storage.

- That's what I'm saying. Aunt Anna's waiting.

- Is it dinner time already?

- How long have you been here anyway?

- Four hours, I guess. I've been working on a long-standing project since I got back.

- What exactly is it? - Red asks curiously.

- Look, - I move away and present the unfinished frame to the girl.

- It looks like a spider, if you look closely," MJ said, tilting her head to the side.

- The legs were the hardest, and setting up the hydraulics will take time. But the base is ready. I'm planning to make dragging things around a lot easier: I'm going to put a camera and a diode from a torch inside the spiderbot. It will take the place of the lens on the belt and will be detachable from it. I don't know yet how to implement something like this and make it small enough, but I'm in no hurry.

- It looks really cool, my brilliant engineer, but even your incredibly clever mind needs recharging, let's go! - the redhead grabs me by the arm and drags me towards the exit.

The only thing I have time to do is throw a sheet over my desk.

We arrive at Mary's house.

- Good evening, Mrs Watson.

- It's Anna, Peter. How's May doing? I went to see her at the hospital, but they wouldn't let me in.

- She's fine. Thanks to a charity that donated the money for the operation, Mae has been operated on today. It's just that the doctor said she'll need some rest. You can visit her tomorrow morning, and I'll come straight after school.

- Great, then we'll visit Mae together, won't we, Auntie Anne?

- Of course, Mary.

- I've never been so glad to have a free schedule.

- Well, if all is well, let's have dinner.

With the hope that the dreadful crisis had passed, we began to eat. 

After dinner.

- Thank you very much, Miss... Anna, I'd better be going.

- I'll come with you.

- Hold your horses, young miss. I understand, but you're sleeping at home tonight.

- Aunt Anna!

- It's all right. Of course, Mrs Watson, we understand. I was just going for a jog before I went to bed. I'm looking at MJ with a very expressive look.

- Ahhhh, yes, Aunt Anna, Peter's going for a run anyway, so no problem," I hope the woman didn't notice my date's expressive wink.

After saying goodbye to the Watson family, I head home.

I go down to the basement and pick up my rucksack and all its contents, changing in the back alley.

Putting on the suit, I fly towards Manhattan, that's where the private labs are located.

I hope Dr Crawford likes to work late.

*

Genetics lab. Dr Maria Crawford.

- Experiment Delta Nine, development of retro-virus 977651. Stage 1. I, Dr Maria Crawford, am testing the serum on a live organism for the first time, test subject mouse "Cheese", time 20:47.

The woman finished dictating and after checking the syringe, injected the drug into the test subject.

Since Maria had returned from Africa with Dr Moreau's developments, her research had accelerated exponentially.

The university has provided additional funding and even wanted to give her some lab assistants to help her. But Crawford had always valued her privacy and keeping secrets in her research.

Suddenly there was a knock on the window. Maria was startled, after all, her laboratory was on the twelfth floor. Gathering her courage and armed with a microscope, Crawford moved towards the sound.

But the woman clearly didn't expect to see the New York superhero, whose pictures she sees in Bugle's daily issues, waving at her affably behind the glass.

Maria lifted the shutter so Spidey could...come in?

- Evening Doc, busy much? - The wall climber said, climbing into the room.

- To be honest, I'm a little stumped right now.

- I know it's not often you get guys in colourful suits climbing into your windows. I'm sorry if I startled you.

- More of a surprise. What can I do for you, Spider-Man?

Maria sat down on the chair and offered the hero the opposite, but the web-slinger just climbed up the wall.

- Do you mind? I'm just more used to it. And call me Spider or just Spider. No formalities, okay?

- Sure. So what brings you here?

- I was researching famous geneticists and I came across your name. I need help. Confidential help.

- What kind of help? - Maria folded her arms and put on a professional demeanour.

Inside, though, she was extremely excited.

It wasn't every day that heroes with unknown abilities came to her for help.

- As you can understand, I have abilities. But I wasn't born with them, I acquired them. From a spider. My theory is that it contained some kind of retro-virus in its body, which, when it came into contact with my DNA, caused a mutation. And I'd like to know how much my cells are mutating. And whether in six months' time I'll be an eight-legged monster.

- Why me? - Maria really wondered why this guy would trust her.

- You're a professional. Believe it or not, I know people, at least I think I do. And I feel like you became a scientist to help others, and right now I could really use the help of someone who won't start experimenting with my blood, but will figure out how to level out the dangerous processes.

- Then you've come to the right place. I'll help," Maria stood up resolutely and went to fetch the medical devices.

- Really? - The stenolazo apparently didn't fully believe that he had convinced the woman.

- Yes, if you believe me, I'm a judge of character too. And even though Jonah Jamieson's assessment of your exploits is pretty negative. I'm the kind of person who can think with my head and see that you're using your gift to do good in the world. So what will I be if I don't repay the good you have done?

The Spider seemed to be in a stupor.

- I....thank you," he thanked quietly.

- 'You don't have to. Release your wrist. We need to take some samples from your finger and vein.

*

Half an hour later.

Peter Parker.

I left Dr Crawford's lab with a light heart.

Doc said she'd have the results in about a week, but if I noticed any other changes in my body, I should fly straight to her.

This time I relied on my gut, and it was doubly pleasant to feel the truth of Maria's words about me.

It took me less than an hour to get home.

Well, it was only half past eleven. I guess I could still work on the spiderbot.

I go down to the basement, take my phone off the charger, and text MJ that everything went fine and I'm home. I say goodnight to the redhead and sit down at the table.

Just as I was about to pick up the soldering iron there was a strange whistling sound.

I look around and see that there was a bright lilac glow in the middle of my lab that blinded me.