8 CH6: I believe I can fall.

I was distracted as I swung through New York, which would be an awful idea for anyone else.

My mind was awhirl with everything that had happened. Someone had gotten their hands on Cape and attacked the school to hunt down Flash, probably someone he bullied one time too many. After that, I got shot in the leg (which, by the way, still hurt) and I had to operate myself in the Parker bathroom, where May found me, after which I got her reluctant approval and Jesus fucking shit!

That was all way too much to have happened in like, two hours.

It wasn't even 12 o'clock yet!

I reached Allen Marks' home and set myself down in the rooftop facing his building. I sat down in the shadow of a water tower, and prepared to wait for nightfall.

Meanwhile, it was time to check out the news and see what people thought of me.

Hm, Daily Bugle was shouting about me being the bane of all freedom-loving Americans, nothing new there, although I'm surprised they got a picture of me swinging into the building.

Ah, there it was: 'picture donated by an anonymous student of Midtown high'.

Probably someone I knew. Brooks? Probably Brooks.

That would probably end up being problematic. Fuck it; I've got enough on my plate for now.

I'll probably regret not doing anything about it now.

I've got enough on my plate right now.

Screw it, no more Daily Bugle, it's giving me anxiety.

Others are praising me for stopping a 'dangerous, drugged up criminal', which makes my gut twist up. I don't want the kid to be labeled a crook just because of one bad day.

Should I visit him? Make a statement?

What if I screw it up? What if he screams at me and everything goes to hell?

I close the news app and open my browser with slightly heavier breathing.

'What kind of shitty reincarnation program puts you in the Marvel universe, but doesn't get rid of your social anxiety?' I wondered, loading up ' '.

For clarification, is basically a forum dedicated to superhero fanfiction. I was pretty new to the site, having discovered it a few weeks prior to the Spider-Man business, but I was already following several stories of varying quality.

The latest updated was one about Storm and Wolverine getting separated from the team and connecting as they fought to survive in the Savage Land. It was fluffy and silly, with small bits of drama and action thrown in. Not very well written, but still-

Uh, I mean…

…

… Don't judge me.

Out of curiosity, I looked myself up on the site.

Wow, three whole stories, huh? I'm honored.

Let's see, the stories were, from newest to oldest: 'The Tricksters' Alliance', 'from a liar to another' and 'Web of Lies'.

I am detecting a theme, and I hate it.

Let's see, Web of Lies was about a young man called Thomas Turner who, after waking up to discover his mutant abilities, he goes on a single-minded spree to stop all crime and avenge his deceased parents.

In the process, good ol' Thomas lies, cheats, and sleeps with somewhere around 90% of the female population of New York, manipulating the feelings of everyone in his search for justice.

Of course, it was a harem story.

I closed the tab with a shudder and tried the next story: 'from a liar to another'.

Side note: story titles that are completely in lower case kinda annoy me. They always struck me as unnecessarily artsy. Mind you, it wasn't indicative of the story's quality, but it still seemed-

I'm getting off track.

The story started with me stopping a bank robbery, which was nice.

I seemed to be characterized as a gritty, clever and brutal man, who could analyze a situation within seconds.

I briefly remembered the time I went to get a glass of water from the kitchen and it took me an entire minute to realize May and Ben had been making out two meters away from me.

Ugh, I still shudder when I think about where Ben's hand was.

Anyway, nothing very interesting happened, until the-me-inside-the-story steps into a rooftop and meets Loki.

Oh, that's cool. I always thought he was an interesting character, I wonder what we do in this-

Why was Loki taking off my mask?

Why was Loki making out with me?!

WHY AM I HAVING SEX WITH LOKI ON A ROOFTOP IN THIS STORY?!

I quickly closed the tab and tried very hard not to think about it.

The next one was 'The Tricksters' Alliance'.

I gave it a quick look-over and- YEP!

It's just more rooftop sex with Loki. Christ, did the second guy start a trend?

I decided that was enough fanfiction for a while and checked the clock.

Hm, I still had a few hours until sunset.

I passed the rest time playing Tetris, which I honestly should have done from the start.

"Jesus baby shit, I'm so bored," I whined, walking around to wake up my legs. The bullet wound was probably around 75% healed, but it still kinda stung to put too much weight on it. Probably should avoid getting hurt there.

The sun was barely reaching the horizon, and it wouldn't speed up no matter how much I flipped it off.

I did a couple handstands, tried to juggle with a few chunks of concrete I pulled off of the ledge (fun fact, Spidey Sense makes juggling super easy and fun), listened to music, and even braved the depths of the internet once more.

And it still wasn't fucking night!

I could probably sneak out, but I know how it goes. I slip away to do some good somewhere else, then BAM!

I missed the guy by five seconds.

Speaking of, there's the guy.

…

HOLY SHIT, THERE'S THE GUY!

I swung low and scooped him up from the sidewalk and dropped him off on a rooftop before he had time to react.

"What the-?"

"Hello, Marks," I growled. He turned around and found me walking calmly over to him. I had to be careful and subtle with my intimidation here. "I have a few questions for you, and I'm sure you'll find some answers to give me."

"I don't know anything, you freak!" he said stubbornly.

Hm, I was starting to hate getting called that.

I reached down, grabbed him by the neck of his shirt, and held him over the edge of the building.

"Now, now," he looked down, then back at me. "I'm sure we can avoid any unfortunate incidents if you just tell me everything you know about a certain red pill."

Marks seemed to locate his spine for long enough to sneer at me.

"Oh, please." He spat on my suit. "You think this is the first time a Cape interrogated me? With all the crap I've seen, your little faux-civilized speech and dangling me are just another Monday night. I've spilled secrets for Daredevil, kid, and you're nothing compared to-"

I dropped him.

Obviously, I caught him, but I like to think he learned a valuable lesson about taunting.

Before he hit the ground, I slingshot myself down the side of the building, grabbed the back of his suit, and swung us dangerously close to traffic before dropping him on another rooftop.

When we landed, he was shaking and there was a suspicious stain on the front and back of his pants.

"Right, you were saying?"

He pretty much let it all loose, after that.

As I suspected, he was working with/for some shady-ass organization, which seemed like an Avenger-type problem, but this organization was testing out some kind of serum out on average crooks, which made it my problem.

(Sidenote: totally called it.)

Marks didn't know which shady organization was behind the drug testing, he was just the one with the contacts and the shell companies to launder money with. He did know, however, where the pills were being manufactured and sent out for distribution.

So, there I was, standing on a rooftop in front of Roxxon headquarters.

I grumbled under my breath as I crawled in through a vent on the rooftop.

"This is just great," I muttered sarcastically. "Once more, Spider-Man has to fight a big company to protect the little people. I swear, if all my big villains have something to do with capitalism, I'm gonna be pissed."

I made my way across the building through the vents, building up a sweat. By the time I found the shady laboratory, my suit had become extremely uncomfortable and I was beyond pissed off.

I was gonna turn into Spider-Hulk out of sheer pissed-off-ness.

Luckily, a relevant and exposition-heavy conversation approached that distracted me from my troubles.

"I assure you, Mister Jones, Spider-Man won't be a problem." A stern female voice rang out. Accompanying it was the sound of heels clicking on the floor, regular steps, and something different.

It sounded like footsteps, except… squelching?

From what little I could see from the vent, there were two people talking. I couldn't spot the third… whatever it was, so I focused on those I could see.

One was an old, balding man, probably in his late thirties. He was wearing a lab coat and a nervous expression, looking around nervously and sweating to a gross degree.

(He said, sweating with his latex suit on.)

The one that'd spoken was a woman with glasses and a pantsuit, holding a clipboard and looking like your generic evil secretary.

"You say that, sure," the man said, wringing his hands, "Look, my boss wants to make sure he won't fall on us for this. Fisk was at his prime when Spider-Man got him locked up. And now that same person found someone using Cape. He's gonna get to us eventually."

"Last time he went against organized crime, it took him two months, and Fisk wasn't half as clever as he liked to think he was." The woman adjusted her glasses. "We have set up more traps than he can handle, there are very few people that know of our connection, and none can be found by beating up random dealers."

I held back a chuckle.

"I assure you, that masked bother-" she stopped, then turned to look over her shoulder.

Then they both looked up at the vent where I was hiding.

'I should've seen this coming.'

That's the only thing I have the time to think before the vent suddenly explodes and my world becomes shaking, pain, and so much noise.

I realize a little later that I'm lying face-down on the floor. With shaky arms, I pushed myself up. I felt nauseous and dizzy, but I focused through the haze and looked at the two conspirators, and at the monster behind them.

It was like someone took a person, stripped them of their meat until they were nothing but skin and bone, and then added avian features.

The person looked stretched in odd places. Their arms and legs were longer than the torso, and their mouth was replaced by a beak.

Their eyes were big, wide, and full of hatred.

"What the hell?" I whispered.

"You seem interested in Rachel here," the woman said, smirking smugly. "Her current state is the result of a new strain of –what do you people call it? Cape, that's right. After your fight with the bank robber that overdosed, my superiors decided to experiment a little, to up the dosage."

"Your superiors…?" I asked, shaking my head to clear it and slowly climbing to my feet.

"The members of an organization that… aims to make the world a better place," she chuckled, clearly thinking she was clever.

"So you work for AIM then. Honestly, I was expecting HYDRA."

Her smile dropped, the balding scientist gaped at me, and the mutated woman –Rachel, that's right, tilted her head sideways.

"You… know of us?" the woman asked, now sounding a bit nervous.

"Only in passing," I shrug, putting a hand to my head. "You're the beehive guys, right?"

'Think, Fletcher,' I stared at Rachel. 'How did she do that with the vent? She obviously noticed you and alerted those two. Did she use telepathy? How the hell can I defend myself from that?'

"Beehive guys?!" the woman sputtered. Good, she was going to rant. As the dizziness faded, I swayed on my feet a little on purpose.

'If Rachel can read my mind, then this trick is pointless. If she can't, that means it was something else.' I closed my eyes and shook my head again. 'What else could it be? Something that gives spatial awareness and lets you blow stuff up?'

"… WE SEEK TO EXPAND THE LIMITS OF HUMAN INTELLIGENCE, TO PUSH MANKIND BEYOND THE BORDERS OF CREATION!" the evil secretary was still going.

'Wait, she seems to be bird-themed, right? Could it be aerokinesis? It could've been simple telekinesis, though.' I threw myself on my knees. 'Screw it, same rules of engagement either way. I'll throw something and see if it stops mid-air or if it gets pushed away by wind.'

"So tell me, you ignorant bug." The evil secretary said, finally wrapping up. "What makes you think you can call us the beehive guys?"

I stared at her, not making a sound. Then, very clearly, I said, "Spiders are arachnids."

She screamed in rage and I jumped away before the floor where I'd just been standing burst apart.

'Shit, whatever bird-brain is using, it's strong.'

I landed on the roof, from where I ripped off a lamp and threw it at Rachel.

What sounded like a bass drop in a dubstep song threw the lamp to the side.

"Ah, sound control," I said, quickly realizing how fucked I was. "That's troublesome."

I quickly jumped out of the way before another blast demolished the roof.

Fifteen minutes later, give or take, I was still running around, and for the first time in months, I was starting to run out of stamina.

"Note to self," I gasped, ducking behind a door and taking the few seconds I had before that bird-faced cunt found me again. "Bring explosives to every fight you go to from now on."

I caught my breath and rolled my shoulders. My left webshooter had run out a little while ago, and I didn't think I had much left in the right one. The right side of my suit had splatters of blood covering most of it. My face was bruised enough that I could barely keep my left eye open, and I was almost completely sure I had broken one or two ribs.

'Okay,' I thought, looking around and listening for any approaching footsteps. 'This looks bad.'

I looked up, and I smiled before the pain of my split lips made me stop. 'But maybe it's gonna get better.'

I rushed inside the room, an empty laboratory, and set up one of the… uh… one of the wide glass thingies. I started raiding nearby cabinets for chemicals with skulls on the labels and poured them all into the glass thingie.

I kept muttering to myself "just a little more, just a little more" until the door blew off its hinges.

"Fuck!" I shouted, grabbing a nearby clipboard and throwing it. It shattered before it even got close.

I ripped a chunk of the wall and threw it, and it too shattered halfway there.

Then I threw whatever the fuck it was I'd made and when Rachel shattered it mid-air, it exploded violently.

Even as I was flung back, a smile showed up in my face.

'Rule one of Comic Book chemistry,' I thought with amusement as I stood up once more, realizing with a detached sense of wonder that I'd actually smashed into the back wall of the laboratory. 'Mix enough random shit and eventually you get explosives.'

I walked over and looked down at Rachel. Her face and body was covered in burns, but her eyes were open and she was glaring at me with a hatred I'd never seen before.

I crouched down and punched her in the face. It was the first (non-explosive) hit I'd landed all night.

I punched, over and over and over. And even though I could tell I was doing damage, she just wouldn't go down. Even after every hit landed, she still lifted her head a little and resumed glaring.

"Just." Bam! "Stay." BAM! "The." BAM! "Fuck." BAM! "DOWN!" BAM!

Finally, her head remained on the floor, and her eyes rolled back.

I sighed, leaning my head back. I groaned a little as I rolled my neck and hissed in pain when the adrenaline finally wore out and I felt the chemical burns, cuts, and bruises that littered my body.

I was taking a second to catch my breath (again), struggling to stay awake, when suddenly I felt my Spidey Sense pull me into full awareness again.

I looked down and saw Rachel with her eyes open again.

Had her mouth not been a beak, I would've thought she was smiling when that final blast sent me flying through several floors and out the ceiling.

I fell (heh) unconscious.

I woke up mid-fall, my Spidey Sense blaring out like a klaxon inside my skull.

I looked around, thought 'how fucking far did she send me?' which was closely followed by me thinking 'ow, everything hurts', which was then followed by thinking 'OH SHIT!'

I then shook my head and looked around again. I was passing the tip of a few skyscrapers, which meant I had to hurry before I became a very ugly stain on the floor.

I shot a web to a nearby building, found that I was using my empty webshooter, and tried the other one.

I barely got a few feet of web. It wouldn't be enough to bleed away my momentum and I'd need another line to land before I was faced with the same problem again.

A flash of inspiration came to me. I grabbed the web line, and waited until I was a few feet to the left of a penthouse.

I spun midair, hitting the glass ceiling with the end of the web line, and pulled myself towards it. I crashed through the glass, fell a little more, and landed on a coffee table.

As everything faded around me, I looked up and saw a pair of people approaching.

I think I slurred something resembling "sorry about your roof" but I was a bit distracted by my own loss of awareness.