Ultimate Spider-Man

Peter Parker stood outside Lieber Tower on Empire State University’s campus. He had his student ID out and was just about to let himself into the dormitory’s lobby. That was when he felt his spider-sense buzzing and heard a voice nearby.

“Mr. Osborn would like a word with you.”

The man wore a trench coat and fedora hat, his face almost completely cast in shadow by the brim. Peter turned away from the mysterious messenger.

“I’ve got a lot on my mind right now,” he said. “Tell Osborn I’ll see him in the morning.”

“That won’t do,” said the man. Peter felt the buzzing grow stronger and that’s when the man drew a handgun and aimed it at the young student. “Mr. Osborn would like a word with you. Now.”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “Listen pal, you really do not wanna mess with me right now, okay?”

“You’re on the clock, Mr. Parker,” said the man.

Peter weighed his options. Bad enough the police would be searching for Spider-Man after what happened at the warehouse. Not to mention DeWolff sniffing around Peter ever since the Lizard appeared on ESU’s campus. His options were running short and Peter didn’t want to draw too much attention to himself. After all, Osborn may not have even told this guy about Spider-Man.

“All right, let’s go,” said Peter, raising his arms in surrender.

RESPONSIBILITY

Part V: Resignation

By Dino Pollard

The Osborn Mansion was a half hour drive away from Empire State University. Peter and his mysterious driver sat in silence the entire time. Neither had even the slightest desire to speak to the other. Peter already had quite a bit on his mind as it was. His uncle’s death drove him into a rage and Peter went black when he attacked the man responsible. It was an action that resulted in the thug’s death.

Yes, Peter was angry. Yes, he wanted revenge. But now he was responsible for that man’s death, even if it wasn’t intentional. To make things worse, he was responsible for hisuncle’s death. Some superhero he was turning out to be…

The car came to a stop and Osborn’s butler stood at the mansion entrance. He opened the door for Peter and gave him a slight bow. Then he led Peter through the foyer and into a massive living room. A chair sat before the fire, the back facing Peter. The man who sat in the chair held a glass of clear liquid with ice floating in it, garnished with an olive.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice, Mr. Parker.” The voice unmistakably belong to Norman Osborn. “I trust Roderick was convincing enough?”

“The hell’s the matter with you, you psycho?” asked Peter. “You sent a guy with a gun after me! If it was that important, why didn’t you call me up?”

“I wanted you to appreciate the gravity of the situation we’ve found ourselves in,” said Osborn. He rose from his seat and turned. The light from the fire flickered on the older man’s face, which was covered in dark bruises.

“Jesus…” said Peter. “What happened to you?”

“The Goblin, that’s what happened to me,” said Osborn. “He came here, demanding a rematch with you. Since it’s my company that produces Amazing Fantasy, he felt it was best to get at you through me.”

“That guy nearly killed me last time,” said Peter.

“And he’s still at large. How long do you think it will be before he’s tired of this game and starts attacking innocents?” asked Osborn. “However, we have another pressing issue.”

Osborn picked up a remote control from the small table by his chair. He turned on the large television set and played back the DVR recording. It was the same newscast Osborn had been watching when the Goblin attacked him. Peter took particular note of the tagline on the screen: SPIDER-MAN – HERO OR MENACE?

“Just what. In the hell. Do you think you are doing?” asked Osborn. “You listen and you listen good, you stupid little infant–this is my show. I call the shots. It’s my money, myreputation on the line. Do you think this is some kind of a game?”

“That man killed my uncle,” said Peter. “What did you expect, I’d do nothing?”

“I don’t care if he slaughtered your entire family, all your friends, and anyone ever associated with them before eating the flesh from their bones,” said Osborn. “You don’t even lift a finger without my say-so. I have far too much invested in this to have some sniveling little child fuck it up just because he wants to pretend he’s Captain America. This isnot a game, Parker.”

“I know…” said Peter. He shot out weblines with both hands at Osborn, covering him in them. Then, he hefted Osborn into the air and hung him upside down from the ceiling. “That’s why I’m done playing.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” asked Osborn.

“Listen Norman, I’m getting a little sick of all your crap, okay?” said Peter. “You don’t own me. I’m the one with these powers, I’m the one risking my life. And I’ve come to the realization that with great power comes great responsibility. So I’ll get rid of this Goblin character myself. After that, you can find yourself a new star, understand? Because I’m hardly going to waste my time dealing with money-grubbing scum like yourself when I don’t have to.”

Peter turned, walking towards the door.

“Parker!”

He stopped briefly and looked over his shoulder at Osborn. Although he was bound and hanging from the ceiling, his eyes still held a quality that sent a shiver down Peter’s spine.

“You walk out of here, and I promise you, I will make your life a living hell,” said Osborn in a low voice, almost hissing. Peter’s arm extended quickly and a glob of webbing flew from his wrist, leaving Norman gagged.

“Do your worst,” said Peter.

“POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS” meant nothing to reporter Ben Urich. He crossed that tape as if he couldn’t even read, waltzing up to the gathering of cops, forensic investigators and paramedics. As they went about their jobs, so did Urich, jotting down notes of the scene so he would remember everything when he wrote the article once he got home to his apartment.

One of the detectives came towards him and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Urich, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Just playing my role as a concerned citizen, Detective DeWolff,” said Urich. “You wanna tell me what happened here?”

DeWolff cocked her eyebrow. “What do you think?”

“This is the most recent investigation that involved the mysterious Spider-Man in some form, isn’t it?”

“I’m a detective,” said DeWolff. “You want celebrity gossip, watch Entertainment Tonight. I’ve got a crime to solve. What are you doing here? First that urban legend in Hell’s Kitche and now this? This is nothing but garbage for the tabloids. You’re better than that.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Detective,” said Urich. “Besides, you need to look at the bigger picture here. This is about a lot more than some flavor of the month. You’ve got Oscorp Media launching this brand-new reality TV show, featuring an honest-to-god superhero right out of the comic books. Flashy costume, neat schtick, catchy theme song, the whole works. Even more than that, this guy is going around on TV and fighting crime. He even fought a goddamn supervillain. Now, he’s apparently killed someone and you’re telling me this isn’t news?”

DeWolff sighed. “Okay, you wanna know what I know?”

Urich raised his digital recorder and smiled. “If you would be so kind, Jean.”

“What I know is this: there’s some character in a mask who calls himself Spider-Man. He’s got powers, or at least makes everyone think he’s got powers. Now, this guy breaks into a house, kills someone, and steals a car. Spider-Man got involved and got into a scuffle with the police. He then went after the suspect in this warehouse. Next thing we know, the suspect does a swan dive from a window. He’s dead, Spider-Man’s standing in the window. He leaves before we can question him. That’s all I know.”

“And Osborn’s involvement?” asked Urich.

“At this moment, we haven’t had time to properly evaluate our options,” said DeWolff. “But you and your readers can rest assured that we will, Mr. Urich. “And when we do, if it’s determined that Spider-Man needs to be taken down, I’ll personally squash him myself.”

Peter stood stoic and quiet at his uncle’s funeral. Aunt May stood by his side. She made no sound other than the occassionally sniffling as she dabbed her eyes with a tissue. He put an arm around her and held her close to him. As he watched the coffin lower into the earth, Peter felt no tears. He wanted to cry, but it was as if his body was incapable of producing them.

He had to consider his next move. And he had no idea what his next move should even be. He had a few ideas, ideas he wasn’t sure he really wanted to implement. But he knew what needed to be done at this time. Osborn was going to prove to be difficult, Peter knew that much. If he’s willing to send a man with a gun after him, there’s no telling what else Osborn would do.

As the mourners departed, Peter led his aunt towards the car. He opened the back door for her and helped her inside. He could sense someone approaching from behind and out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of blonde hair. Peter leaned down and kissed May on her cheek.

“I’ll be along in a minute, okay?”

May nodded, wiping tears from her eyes. “Take your time, Peter.”

He nodded and turned to see Gwen Stacy approaching him with Harry Osborn by her side. Seeing the two of them together still hurt, it was a shock Peter hadn’t yet recovered from. But worse than that, he saw in Harry the face of Norman Osborn glaring at him, vowing to make Peter’s life a living hell.

Gwen threw her arms around Peter. “I’m so sorry, Pete…” she said, beginning to sob herself. Peter carefully put his arms around her, patting her on the back as she held him tight. “I’m so sorry,” she kept repeating over and over again. Harry placed a hand on her shoulder and Gwen broke the embrace. Peter expected Harry to offer a handshake, so he was taken aback when the younger Osborn hugged him as well.

“I’m sorry, man,” he said. “I know what it’s like to lose someone close.”

Harry pulled away, but laid a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “If you need someone to talk, I know what you’re going through. I lost my mom to something similar.”

“Thanks guys,” said Peter.

“Stop by my room when you decide to come back to the dorm,” said Gwen. “Harry and I, we’ll take you out. Help you get your mind off things.”

“Yeah, definitely,” said Harry. “If you like, I can talk to your profs, get you a break for a week or so.”

“Thanks guys, I appreciate the offer…” he began. He paused for a moment. No, this was right. This was what he had to do. “…but I don’t think I’m coming back to school. At least not yet.”

“What?” asked Gwen.

“My aunt’s gonna have a really hard time right now,” said Peter. “I really think I should move back home, get a job and help her around the house until she gets settled again.”

“You sure?” asked Harry.”Yeah… yeah, I’m sure,” said Peter. “It’s for the best.”

“Then give me a call when you’re ready to move out, I guess,” said Harry. “I’ll get some movers for you, you won’t have to lift a finger.”

“Thanks Harry, I’ll keep that in mind,” said Peter. He got into the driver’s seat and started the car, taking him and his aunt home.

Once they walked in the door, Peter helped Aunt May remove her coat. He hung it and his own in the closet. Aunt May came up to him and hugged him, holding tightly. Peter held her back. Ever since he came back, it seemed she was always holding on to him, not letting him go for an instant.

“Are you hungry?” she asked. “I can make us something to eat.”

“No, I’m okay,” said Peter. “Don’t feel real hungry these days, I guess.”

May laid a hand on his cheek. “You need to take care of yourself, Peter. Uncle Ben wouldn’t want us carrying on this way.”

“Yeah, yeah I know,” he said. “I’m thirsty, though, think I’ll just get a glass of water.”

“Okay,” said May.

Peter walked into the kitchen and filled a glass with ice. As he poured the water, May walked in. “Peter listen, I couldn’t help hearing you and your friends today.”

“And?” asked Peter.

“I… I don’t want you to move back home,” she said.

Peter looked at her in surprise and May instantly realized how she came off. “Oh no, sweetie, I didn’t mean it like that. I would love to have you back home, I would. But when you decided to live on campus, Ben was so happy for you. I was worried, of course. I kept telling him to convince you to stay here and commute. But he said to me, ‘May, the boy’s gotta find out who he is and he can’t do that while he’s got a pair of old farts cramping his style.'”

Peter couldn’t help but smile. It was something Uncle Ben would have said.

“Peter… what I’m saying is I want you to respect your uncle’s wishes,” she said. “He wanted you to live on campus and to have a good time. And you should do that. I don’t want you to move back home and become isolated from people your own age. You need to go out and discover who you really are. Do as your uncle would have wanted, okay?”

Peter walked up to Aunt May and kissed her on the forehead. “Don’t worry, I plan on doing just that.”

As Spider-Man swung across the city on a webline, he couldn’t help but smile slightly beneath his mask. He hadn’t expected to even put on this costume again after everything that happened. But Aunt May was right, he should do what Uncle Ben would have wanted. And Uncle Ben told him that with great power comes great responsibility. Peter needed to get into that mindset.

No more grandstanding. No more cameras. No more sponsors. It was time for Peter to stop playing a hero and to start being one. Sure enough, his trial by fire would come sooner than he expected as he witnessed a giant explosion off in the distance.”You don’t see that every day…” he muttered. He swung towards the explosion and as he came closer, a figure rose, hidden by the plume of smoke. The figure was wearing a purple cloak and standing on a glider.

“Oh crap…” muttered Spider-Man as the figure came through the smoke.

It was the Goblin. His eyes glowing brightly as he held a pumpkin bomb in one hand and a razor-wing in the other. As soon as he caught a glimpse of Spider-Man, he began to cackle. A laugh that sent shivers down Peter’s spine.

“It’s about time!” shouted the Goblin. He hurled both the razor-wing and the bomb at once. The wing sliced through Spider-Man’s webline but before he could fire another, the pumpkin bomb exploded right near him.

Spider-Man fell through the air but quickly regained his composure and flung out his wrist. A webline struck the Goblin’s glider and the Goblin kicked it into gear, rocketing into the night sky. Spider-Man hung tightly to the webline, holding to it for dear life. The Goblin flew towards the Brooklyn Bridge, weaving in and out of the suspension coils. Spider-Man had to keep swinging back and forth to avoid hitting them. That was when the Goblin headed straight for one of the towers. The Goblin shot up, barely missing the side of the tower and Spider-Man was about to slam right into it.

He released the line and fired one at the tower. Swinging from it, once he reached the apex of his ascent, he released and flew into the air. Spider-Man fired twin weblines and pulled down the second they grasped ahold of the second tower. He swung down, just barely cruising above the traffic. Once he swung up, Spider-Man fired another twin pair of lines, shorter than the previous and used them to further propel his ascent.

Once he reached a suitable height, Spider-Man fired two more lines. One grabbed onto the Goblin’s glider, the other struck the back of his head. Spider-Man pulled on them both and the Goblin found himself almost being pulled from his glider. If not for his feet being hooked firmly in place, he would have fallen. Instead, he found himself bent over backwards and Spider-Man fired a glob of webbing into his eyes.

The Goblin tore frantically at his eyes. On the sides of his glider, two barrels emerged. Spider-Man’s warning sense blared in his head. He swung from the webline and released it, diving as the small guns on the glider unleashed a hail of bullets. Spider-Man flew below the bridge and used his webbing to pull himself into cover. He clung to the bottom of the bridge, watching the waves below him and waiting for the Goblin to come searching for him. He relied exclusively on his spider-sense, which began to sound off. The Goblin flew beneath the bridge, his eyes frantically scanning for his prey.

“Hey Sparky!”

The Goblin’s head snapped up just in time to see a red blur strike him between the eyes. “Heads up!”Spider-Man got behind the Goblin on the glider, trying to wrestle him free. The Goblin fought back as best he could, then hit the thrust on the glider and the two rocketed towards the heavens.

“Y’know…” said Spider-Man. “This is a compromising position for both of us. I’ve been getting enough bad press as it is, can you imagine what people will think once thesephotos hit the stands?”

“Stupid little spider…” muttered the Goblin. “Why did you have to get involved in this?”

“Hey, you were the one blowing shit up!” said Spider-Man. “Don’t make this my fault!”

“Only one way out…” muttered the Goblin. He elbowed Spider-Man in the rib and broke free of his grip. The Goblin hit a switch on his glider and Spider-Man’s head lit on fire as the spider sense blared. Just then, a very loud and rapid beeping noise came from the glider.

“What did you do?” he asked.”Tell Osborn I’ll see him in hell!” shouted the Goblin.

He lifted Spider-Man over his head and threw him into the East River below. Spider-Man tried to fire a webline, but the glider moved too erratically. He struck the surface of the water and instantly swam back out. Once he poked his head out, he saw an explosion.”Osborn…” muttered Spider-Man. “Just what the hell was I involved in…?”

NEXT: Armed & Dangerous

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