Webs We Weave 1.1

Webs We Weave 1.1

New York was warm enough during the autumn.

I blew out a breath. Currently, I was sitting on a rooftop in the Bronx and looking out over the famous New York skyline. Life, after Gold Morning, had turned out… well enough all things told. I had a nice thick jacket, opened slightly because of the warm weather, a relatively new pair of shoes, and a full belly courtesy of the Women’s Shelter a block or so south of here.

I even had my power, or at least a fragment of it, that let me know where people were in a small radius. That was how I’d managed to sneak my way up onto the rooftop, despite being very much homeless, destitute, and all together stranded in this strange new world.

“Good work, passenger,” I murmured under my breath as I tilted my head back. The sun was already sinking in the distance, the light low enough that I could see the twinkle of an especially bright star. “That janitor would have caught me, if not for you.”

I felt a feeling of warmth flowing through me, at the absolute edge of my perception. I liked to believe it was the Queen Administrator, that she had learned enough from me that, when I reached out, she would reach back to me.

Or maybe it was just my imagination.

I leaned back on the radiator, basking against the warm metal, as I wondered what I’d be doing tomorrow.

My life, such as it was, had settled into a relatively simple routine in the month that I’d been here. Get food, stay warm, find a safe place to sleep.

Avoid the cops.

You’d think they’d have better things to do than chasing after a homeless girl.

You’d also probably think that I could be doing something more productive no doubt. And maybe I could have if I wanted to start down the same road as before. Take over a gang, start picking fights, amass power and influence until I ruled from the shadows and took my due from the other crabs stuck at the bottom of this bucket with me.

Sure I could maybe do all of that.

But it sounded like work, and I was just so tired.

I laughed at the thought. “Think we’d even survive?” Knowing where people were withing a few dozen meters of me wasn’t much of a power, compared to what I was used to. Still, a feeling of confidence answered me. My passenger always did have faith in me. “You’re right, you’re right. But… isn’t this better?”

At that I felt my passenger give me the mental equivalent of a shrug, and I laughed again, running the fingers of my remaining hand through my hair. Even freed from Scion’s influence, my passenger still had that same drive to collect data. To struggle and fight.

But it was nice, knowing that she would put that on hold for me. She would wait with me, without itching at the back of my thought to get me into a fight, or getting mad at me when I didn’t do just that. Passenger probably still had that other boy to watch for new tricks. The one with the birds.

I hoped he made it out okay.

This was my life, one day at a time, bereft of meaning. The system wasn’t built to support people like me. It was built to keep me here at the bottom of the heap, just like it had in Brockton Bay. I could have fought the waves that crashed upon me, I could have struggled against the current that was slowly, every so slowly, wearing me down until I finally gave up and died.

But it was so much easier to drown.

And I was so tired of swimming.

There was a light thunk as something landed on the roof behind me.

I blinked, sitting up.

As I turned, I saw what looked like a man wearing a… spandex superhero costume. He rose from a crouch, facing the other direction as I watched him silently.

The afternoon light threw the red spider logo on his back into stark relief.

A cape? I felt something tighten in my chest. From what (admittedly little) I’d seen, this world didn’t have heroes or villains or even powers. I felt frozen stiff as the man stretched his arms up and over his head. For the first time in years, I had absolutely no idea what to do.

The best outcome for me would be if he just jumped off the building without noticing me. The last thing I needed was to get involved in the cape scene again. I was done, retired, living the rest of my life knowing I’d already saved every single world in existence and nothing else would ever measure up to that.

So, with that in mind, of course the man reached up and pulled the mask off his head. As he shook out his short brown hair, I was struck by how young he looked. Maybe even younger than I’d been on my first night out.

“Man…” He stretched, pulling off one of his red, spider themed gloves and checking his watch. “Stayed out too long again, Aunt May is gonna ground me for life.”

I couldn’t help it. I chuckled.

The boy spun around, eyes wide. His hands jerked up to his face even as I pushed myself into a sitting position.

“Word of advice.” I gave a wry smile. “Be more careful with where you decide to change.”

“Uh.”

I shook my head, holding back another laugh. Man, had I looked this green on my first night? No wonder Armsmaster though he could get away with stealing credit for Lung.

“Look,” I said. “I get it. Changing in a dirty alley is a pain, and you could get stains on your boots. But rooftops don’t exactly offer the most cover.” I gestured around. All of the surrounding buildings were lower than this one, which is why I happened to come here as well, but all it would take was one bored office worker looking up. “Try to find an abandoned warehouse or something like that to change in. And preferably pick one before you’re running late for bedtime.”

The kid blushed, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “Uh, yeah. Thanks… I’ll keep that in mind?”

I nodded. “You’ll probably live longer if you do.” I shrugged. “And check before you yank your mask off next time, boy-spider.”

“It’s Spiderman.” He crossed his arms.

I just raised an eyebrow. “Is it really?” And the awkward blush was back.

“Spider Boy sounds dumb…” he murmured.

I shrugged. “I guess man is…  manlier.” I couldn’t help but smile at his bashfulness. “It’s a good name, least you didn’t end up with something like Skitter.”

He pulled a face. “Yeah…” Rest in peace my first villain name. Even a kid like this thought it was dumb. “I actually wanted to go with the Human Spider, but the announcer guy called my Spiderman.” He rubbed the back of his head. “It sounded way cooler.”

“Announcer man?”

He froze.

I just laughed, patting the radiator next to me. “Come on, it’s not like I’m gonna tell anyone. Or look you up for that a matter.” Last I checked, the cops tended to chuck homeless people out of libraries in this part of town.

The boy gave a sheepish smile, drifting over to sit at my side. I wanted to chide him for being so trusting, but I guess I didn’t really look like much. At least I didn’t smell either. Thank god for the woman’s shelter.

“So,” I said. “You got your start doing what, MMA or something?”

“…Wrestling.” He admitted. “There was a big prize for lasting three minutes vs this crusher or whatever his name was. Course, I was stronger than, so I didn’t think it would be much trouble.” He sighed. “It was a stupid idea.”

“There’s nothing wrong with making some money.” I rolled my head. “As long as no one gets hurt, cage matches exempted.”

He gave a wry laugh. “Yeah well, I pinned him in two, so they only gave me a hundred dollars. And then…”

I waited for a moment, but when the kid didn’t say anything else, I patted him on the shoulder. “Being a hero is tough. You’ll probably be happier if you decided to just walk away from that kind of life.”

He met my eyes. “With great power comes great responsibility.”

I laughed, but not at him this time. “The world would be a better place if more people thought like you.”

“That’s why I have to do this.”

I hummed, drumming my fingers against my thigh. He seemed like a good kid. I felt like I had enough experience to judge.

After a moment, I nodded. “Are you bullet proof?”

He blinked, “Huh?”

“Bulletproof. Adjective, the ability to stop bullets.” I raised an eyebrow. “I noticed your costume is just spandex, not very durable, even if it does look pretty professional.”

“Uh…” He rubbed the back of his head. I worried he’d be suspicious of me, but his eyes had taken on a faraway look as he thought about the question. “No, I don’t think I’m any tougher than a normal person, but I heal pretty quick.”

I nodded. “That’s a good start. Hospitals are getting better at calling you out on ‘I fell down the stairs’ types of excuses.”

He gave a laugh.

He thought I was joking, but it had been a real problem during my Villain career.

“You should think about working some armor plates into your costume.” I jerked my head towards his chest. “Ceramic is pretty good, and you can buy it on the market in most states. Well, I’m not sure about New York but… travel doesn’t seem like it’ll be a huge issue for you.”

He chuckled. “I could probably swing over to Jersey. But really? I’m super agile, I don’t want to slow myself down.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just brag about being stronger than a pro wrestler three times your size?”

He blushed. “He wasn’t… three times my size.”

I reached out, wrapping my hand around his forearm. My hands weren’t especially big, but my thumb and middle finger met with ease.

He coughed. “Maybe two and a half…”

I shook my head. Kids. “The layout of the armor is more important. Just make sure you can bend over. And that you’re protecting this.” I tapped the center of his chest. “I don’t care how fast you heal, if a stray bullet goes through your heart, you’ll die.”

He blinked, eyes widening at the thought. “Uh, yeah…” He shivered. “Good idea.”

I smirked. “That’s why I suggested it.”

He nodded again, lost in thought. I gave him a moment. The kid struck me as a thinker, lowercase t. The type of person who liked to chew on a problem, instead of just going with whatever came to them first.

As opposed to the type of person who always went with what came to them first, because it was given to them an alien space parasite.

But I digressed.

“Wouldn’t it… be better to work in a stronger material into my suite?” He tilted his head towards me. “Like, Kevlar or something?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know much about fabric.” Other than widow spider silk, on which I could consider myself rather an expert. “But even then, if you make the fabric too thick, you’ll have a harder time moving in it than if you just put some plates into pouches you sewed into it. After all, it’s not like weight will be the limiting factor. Do you even know your upper limit?”

“Not… really?” He rubbed the back of his head. “I snuck into my school gym when no one was there once and put all of the 45-pound weights on a bar. It wasn’t that hard to rep.”

I bobbed him on the head.

“Ow! What?”

“You went to your school gym.” I looked at him. “And lifted something more than twice your weight?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“And what if someone walked in. What if there was a camera?”

He blinked, mouth forming an: “Oh.”

I sighed. “You have to think about these things. Or I won’t be the only homeless person who knows what you look like.”

He blinked again, eyes snapping to my clothes, before he cleared his throat and glanced away. “Right, thanks for the tip.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”

He blushed again. “… Right.”

“Let’s see… what else.” I leaned back, tilting my head up towards the orange sky. Sunset was a beautiful time in New York. “Do you have a burner phone? You’ll want something to contact the police. Zip ties are good for tying people up too.”

“I use my webs.” He made a gesture with his hands shooting out a thin strand of webbing and snagging an empty beer can before yanking it back to his hand. “Biodegradable, and it breaks down in an hour. Or longer if I tweak the formula some.”

I narrowed my eyes. Now that I was looking for it, I could see some thick cuffs around his wrists. He made those?

Maybe he wasn’t as helpless as I first thought.

“What if it takes longer for the police to get someone to a cell?” I asked instead. “Or your… webbing makes it impossible for them to be handcuffed normally?”

He raised a finger, before pausing. I just watched as he stood up, rapidly passing around the rooftop. After a moment, he rolled back the sleeve of his costume, pulling off a utilitarian looking metal and plastic cuff that was about four inches long and snug around his wrist.

The source of his webs? Well, if he could get something that compact, maybe he was a Tinker with a capital T this time. I guess maybe this world did have powers after all. Wonder how he triggered?

It was rare to see someone that nice who had a power. Most of us had… issues.

I think, off the top of my head, only Golem and Cuff had been nice people, in the Chicago wards, and even then, they both had their problems.

Golem never really got over his shyness, and Cuff.

Well, that wasn’t my secret to tell, was it?

I just sat back, watching this Spider Man turn his web shooter over in his hands. “You know… I could probably fit in a canister for a stronger formula as well, and add a selector.”

“And how would the cops get it off?” I asked. “How would you make sure you were always using the right formula? What if it’s on the wrong dial and you get it in someone’s mouth?”

He paused, frowning down at it, before sighing. “Yeah, but… zip ties?”

I shrugged. “Sometimes simple is best. If you want to nerd out over something, try designing a utility belt that can store all the things you need, without getting in the way. Especially for the ties. Easy access without spilling out at the drop of a hat? That’s an engineering nightmare.”

It’d been one for me. In the end, I’d just bought Velcro or zip bags and sewed them onto my belt. I bet this guy would end up doing something pretty fancy though.

“Hah.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Like Batman?”

“Who?”

“Batman, you know, in the comics.”

I shrugged again. “I guess so.” I met his eyes. “Just don’t forget the phone, before you go and try to make some super spider communicator.”

He gave a sheepish sort of chuckle. “Yeah… Thanks.” He looked left and right, as if grasping for something. “How’d you learn so much about being a hero?”

I shrugged again. “Here and there. You see things if you pay attention.”

And also if you spend three years of your life as a villain and then a hero, but that wasn’t something I could just say.

“Well… Thanks anyway.” He passed, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “Is there, uh, a way I could get in touch with you?”

I cocked an eyebrow.

“For more advice!” He raised his hands defensively. “I’m pretty new at this whole hero thing, if you couldn’t tell. It’d be nice to have… someone I could talk to about it?”

You should talk to your Aunt May about it. Maybe she’d be able to talk you out of it before you got yourself killed, or else ended up like me.

I didn’t say that though. I knew he wouldn’t listen. I sure as hell wouldn’t have back then.

“I like watching the sunset from this building on the weekends” I said. “Otherwise, I swing by the woman’s shelter on Maple and Twenty-Second a couple of days every week. You can ask for me there.” I held out my hand. “I’m Taylor. Taylor Hebert.”

Nice to meet you!” He had a nice smile, very photogenic. It was a shame he hid it behind the mask. But then again, I’d done the same thing, hadn’t I? We hid the parts of ourselves we were ashamed of behind the mask.

I gave him a once over as he shook my hand. I thought I had him mostly pegged. Nerdy kid with not so many friends. He likes designing things, and then suddenly he gets a power, something that makes him good at the stuff he used to be so bad at.

He went to a cage match for a reason after all.

Yes, I could see it now. On his own, he’d probably even be fine, I didn’t see very Many villains around town, so maybe he was the first of a new wave of triggers or something like that. Who knew how shards would behave now that Scion was gone.

Differently. Isn’t that right, passenger?

I felt a feeling of warmth run through me, like a phantom hug.

I chuckled. “Remember, armor, zip, ties, burner phone.”

He gave a salute. “Got it!”

I smiled. “Stay safe out there…

“Spider Man.”

The Webs We Weave

Worm/The Spectacular Spiderman