Ultimate Spider-Woman Issue 9: Starting Over free porn video

Issue 9: Starting Over I didn't have a clear idea of where I was going when I headed away from Pete and my improvised warehouse squat. I just needed to get away from him. From the confusion that was us. From myself. But you can never get away from yourself... Were Pete and I the same person? Were we two parts of the same person? No I was me. A complete and separate individual. I didn't feel like the yin to his yang... I was a guy... but... as a girl I didn't hate my body. Actually, to be honest... it was me now. And that confused me. I hadn't felt like me at the start when I first became conscious in my new body but that was gradually changing. I couldn't be Peter Parker even if I was a guy. Peter already existed. And no way could I be him as a girl. I just had to be me. Jessica Drew. Spider-Woman. But... was Jessica Drew just a disguise? No... I wanted a life. I leaped and swung gracefully, smooth and supple limbed. It was enjoyable to move like this. Still exhilarating but different. My centre of gravity, weight distribution, flexibility and general poise were all subtly but distinctly different. But ... what was I to my former self? Certainly I represented something Pete didn't want to fully acknowledge or face. Something he was ashamed of and wanted to hold at arms length - but something I had to accept. I wasn't going to live in shame. I wasn't going to live a half life. Ha. Half life? I was consciously and willfully distancing myself from my life, my loved ones, my friends, my school, my superhero identity. That was my life. Who was I really protecting? What identity was I keeping secret? Pete had literally come out as Spider-Man to Aunt May ... but I still remained a secret. Hidden and unknown. Did I have a right to my life? Was I ashamed to be a clone? Was I ashamed for them to see me as a girl? I had too many questions. But I had my whole life to answer them I supposed. But... I couldn't be part of Pete's life. Too many questions. Too many inconsistencies. Both our our secret identities would be compromised. And... there would be too many lies. That would be the worst part. The lies would be too painful for me. Too messy for everyone. Because I loved MJ and I was me, Peter. And she could never love me. Yeah. It was too dangerous for them. As I swung I gravitated towards Welling Court in Astoria and it's murals. I liked them. They always calmed me when I looked at them. But... clothes... that's when I remembered Welling Court also had a lot of charity bins, so I went there. As I came down Twelfth I heard a terrified cry and spotted a suspicious looking guy wearing a face mask waving a gun at a lady. She was walking her miniature schnauzer and my common sense told me he was a mugger. With a quick flick of my goggle controls I started recording, my optic lenses auto focusing and tracking the perp as he motioned her into the alley. I sighed as she fearfully headed into the dark secluded back alley. "You know what this is lady. Your purse and jewelry, now. Or I start with Fifi..." he threatened her and her dog. He sounded and looked young - too young to be doing this. "Please, I'll give you what I have, just don't hurt us!" The lady begged, her dog straining on its leash to get at him as things grew tense. The mugger laughed, reveling in his power, the little dogs bravado and the woman's evident terror. Again I was struck by how immature he sounded. Without thinking I converged on the alley above them, webbed him as I deftly looped the web strand over a fire escape rail and dropped down into the alley. As I came down he shot up with a startled cry, gun dropped as he flailed about comically. I picked up the pistol, unloaded it and snapped it in half. Then I turned and looked up at him and, shooting out a web, I snagged his bandana and unmasked him, getting a clear recording of his young face. He looked like he was barely out of his teens. "Spider-Man!?" the lady mistakenly cried. It was dark in the alley. She was pretty scared and seemed near tears. Honest mistake under the circumstances but she realised her error as she moved in and hugged me in relief. "No... you're a girl." She sniffled as she held onto me and her dog barked at me, confused by its owners evident distress. "Quiet Kermit." The dog barked once more then contented itself with a menacing growl directed up at the would be juvenile delinquent mugger. She disentangled herself from my arms a little embarrassed. I could relate. She was in her mid twenties and pretty in a homely way, although her makeup was smeared by tears and her eyes were already all puffy. "Uh... Spider-Woman... new hero in town," I said as I turned off the recording. She regarded my shabby costume with wet glistening eyes. "Well thank you..." she looked up at the helplessly dangling mugger. "You're a life saver. Um. Do people give you rewards?" She asked, not sure what to say. "Usually not. But... well... if you could spare some change... I'm famished and I'm broke..." I said ruefully. "Change?" She reached into her hand bag and rummaged for her purse. Producing it she opened it and gave me a five and some ones. Ten bucks in total. I took it feeling much less heroic. "That's all I have. Sorry. Plastic age. No one carries cash anymore..." "Thanks. You're a life saver," I said and turned to go. "Uh, Spider-Woman, what about him?" She asked. The dangling youth looked down at me and I realised he wasn't even twenty years old, probably seventeen. "You testify against me and my crew will mess you up lady..." he promised darkly. "Your crew?" I asked. He had a nasty scar vertically through his face. Scar Face. "Yeah. Mo Money ya dumb scrag," Scar Face grunted. I'd heard of the gang. Everyone in Queens knew the local gangs. "Oh... right... um..." I played with the menu on my goggles. There was a wireless file transfer function. "I have video. Should make convicting you a slam dunk..." It took a minute but I paired with the ladies phone and sent the file through. And then I sent it to the local precincts e- mail with a gps marker. "The cops have the mugging footage pal. Even if she doesn't want to give evidence you will go to jail or juvenile prison or whatever. Tell you what. If you do anything to her I'll sell the footage to the Bugle. How much street cred you gonna get when everyone sees you webbed up. On the news.... Better still..." I turned on my camera again and filmed as I webbed his pants and pulled them down. "With your tiny junk on display." I asked, zooming in on his face then down. "What do you think your street name will be if I let this footage out in the world? Lil Jewels. Ice Balls..." "You! Mo Money will sort you out!" he threatened. "Mo Money? Yeah good one lil jelly beans. You just shamed not only yourself but your gang..." I observed. The lady laughed then frowned as we headed out of the alley, Scar Face cursing us. "You know... I'm a part time actress. Mainly stage, small productions and a few adverts. It helps pay the bills, but, I'm doing too great. Funny thing is, this could help my profile. I... I have an agent. Not sure if you're into the endorsement thing, but it pays okay..." she reached into her satchel and produced a card. "He's okay. Honest and straightforward. You could do worse. If you're interested that is. You seem to have a dramatic flair." I took the card. "Hmmm." I'd tried to profit off my powers once and things went majorly pear shaped. But this could be handy. I considered it. My wrestling career... that had been a mistake. No. The way I'd handled it had been a mistake. It was an option. "Thanks. Mention me to him. Er... I didn't get your name." "Tanya Speidling," she said. "Thanks Tanya." I swung off to find my thrift shop bin. I finished off the last bite of my Frog burger and fries super combo meal and washed it down with a Lily Pond soda to the relentless sound of a cycling clothes dryer. I was coming to the conclusion that food tasted a little different now. I usually liked Frog Burgers and they were ubiquitously the same at all their franchise stores - but this burger tasted somehow ... off. Hmmm. That was unexpected. Maybe my brains wiring and biology were different. Heh. There's a surprise. I was no longer a fan. Damn you Doc Ock! I idly flipped through a gossip rag on top of the unsavory pile of magazines. The tabloids held no appeal but searching amongst them I found a dog eared Far Side book and, well, that amused me for a bit. I was still a science nerd and the humour appealed to me. I sighed, still hungry but not famished. My new clothes itched. They smelled of moth balls. They were ill fitting and I didn't really like them. I'd throw them back in the welfare bin soon enough but for now I rankled in them. I'd grabbed the t-shirt, woolen jumper and jeans from a handy welfare dumpster and my tattered costume and the other clothing I'd taken happily tumbled away in the large clothes dryer post wash. These were the cleanest looking and least smelliest clothes I could find. I really needed shoes and underwear. Damn. I'd sunk so low, begging for food and laundry money. It still made me feel... wrong. I'd never asked someone I'd saved for money. But I really needed clean clothes and a cheap burger. I realised that one of the joys of being alone and homeless was going to be the washing of clothes ritual. I'd need to get used to it. No Aunt May to mother me... The machine beeped and I grabbed the dry clothes, looked about and then quickly changed in back corner away from prying eyes and the CCTV cameras. I felt better immediately. Clean fresh warm clothes, even second hand ones, were important. I stuffed the clothes I'd been wearing in a plastic bag and the other clean clothes in my cardboard box. I'd washed my outfit too - the hi tech goggles came out. My Spider-Woman suit's colours didn't run which was good. Hopefully it wouldn't shrink. I was self conscious enough in that skin tight outfit without it being any tighter. I stared off into the distance glumly. Not having a home. I didn't like that. I needed to find a safe place to sleep. Someplace clean and warm. The warehouse was linked to him. Peter. I couldn't keep staying there. Besides it wasn't safe. I could take care of myself but I needed a real home. As I exited the all night laundromat I noticed a kid in the adjacent alley. He was, busy with spray painting a wall. I crossed the road and he briefly eyed me then returned to his work. He was doing a mural. "Nice work," I said as he sprayed. It was. A giant name 'Lyfe' was exploding with verdant green vines and bright flowers literally tearing out of a faux brick wall. It had the feel of an optical illusion about it. "Thanks," he said, not looking up. He wore a bandana on his mouth and nose and had short cropped hair. I was reminded of the mugger. Lots of bandannas lately... "I think I've seen your work around," I said. One of the things you notice when you web around New York and stop muggers in alley is all the street art and Astoria was renowned for its murals. Lyfe popped up a bit and the themes he covered tended to have a nature vs urban environment theme that appealed to me. They also often had social commentary on homelessness. "You live on the streets?" I asked bluntly. "Cause... your art..." Lyfe looked up at me and eyed my box and the laundromat I'd come from. "You come right to the point don't you. Yeah. For a while. I got a car I crash in mostly. You?" He put down one can, shook another and went back to his mural. "Yeah. Newly homeless. Hey, you don't know Krystal do you?" I asked hopefully. "Um...." He frowned. "Hang on... Krystal. Yeah maybe. Moves around a bit. I think I saw her at the factory before it burned down. She's a regular on the spider circuit." "Oh, you mean the condemned buildings from all the super hero fights?" I asked as I watched Lyfe work, admiring the guy's evident skill and panache, and taking note of how he used the paint to achieve various affects. "Yeah. That one. But I haven't seen her for a while," he said. A passing patrol car suddenly flashed its lights. "Dang. This isn't a designated mural wall. Let's book!" he said. "You kids stop!" Lyfe swore as he grabbed at his bag, spray paint cans scattering all over the alley. He grimaced for a moment then ran, leaving the cans. The police car turned into the alley and approached. I picked up the scattered spray paint cans and put them in my box as a cop climbed out. "You girl. Put down the box. Come over here," the policeman said as he moved towards me. I had all the spray paint by then and I turned and ran after Lyfe. The cop chased but there was not a chance he was catching me. I rounded a corner and sprang straight up, webbing and swinging out of the alley onto a rooftop. By the time my chasing cop rounded the corner I was long gone. I ran over the roof and looked in the nearby alleys till I spotted Lyfe hiding behind a mesh fence and some dumpsters. Quietly I jumped down behind a pile of pallets and walked out. "Hey. Where did you last see Krystal?" I asked. He nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise. Lyfe was annoyed. "Leave me alone. You're bad luck. I just lost over a hundred bucks of spray paint," he complained. I opened my box. "You mean this paint?" I showed him. The bag with my un ashes clothes was stained with wet paint but my freshly washed clothes were fine thank god. He grabbed the box and pulled out his cans, checking to make sure they were all there. "Sweet! Thanks. How did you... damn you must be quick to outrun the man like that," he said with a grin. "I have my moments. So what else do you know about Krystal?" I asked. "Who is she to you?" Lyfe asked as he put his paints away in his bag. "A friend. We dossed together and she helped me through a bad time. I think she might be in trouble herself now. You know cause she... Disappeared." I explained. Lyfe grew serious. "Missing. Really? Damn. I'm Lyfe," he said. "I figured," I said. "Jessica. Uh Jess." I felt more like a Jess now for some reason. "You can hang with me if you like. I'm on the circuit too sometimes. My car is a small wagon and sometimes it gets cramped so I don't always sleep in it. She might have had some friends." Lyfe sighed. "I'm going to go to the shelter for a meal. You should come. It's almost closing time for the kitchen. Maybe you can spot for me later tomorrow night when I go back to finish my mural." My stomach growled. "Food? Sounds good," I agreed. That had been a small burger combo. "Hey, do you think you could show me how to use spray paint." He bit his lip and considered. "The paint ain't cheap but since you saved it from being confiscated I guess. What did you want to do." "Your name is your tag right. I was thinking..." I grinned and reached into his bag and took out a maroon coloured spray paint can. I wrote on the wall in big capitals 'PHA5E'. "Hmmph. Why?" he asked. My grin widened. "I mean to become infamous. And cause problems..." Lyfe laughed. "Don't we all. Come on. I'm hungry. We can work on the mural later. Once the cops move on." He led the way to the shelter. "Yeah food sounds good, especially if it's free... Hey. Um. You're young. My age. Fifteen right? Um. Do you go to school?" I asked. "Yeah. It's hard, not going to school but being homeless. You don't choose this life, but for me it's better than the alternative. But school... is mostly good. I'm at Long Island City High. The McKinney- Vento Act... that's a thing to help homeless students. They let you enroll in school immediately, even if you don't have the documents normally required for enrollment, cause it's the law that we have to be in school till the end of the year we turn sixteen. That's two more years for me. The school staff try and look out for you and cut you some slack, the counsellors have programs to assist homeless students.... There are more homeless students than you'd expect nowadays. One in ten roughly in New York City. Some of the kids at school can make life hell..." he shrugged. "But it's a bit of stability and consistency mostly." "I'm thinking of looking for a school in Astoria..." I said, giving voice to my percolating thoughts and desires. "Here? Well you'll probably end up at Long Island City High with me..," he said. "Good school." "Yeah... now did you say food?" I said with a grin. "For such a slim girl you wouldn't think you would eat so much," Lyfe observed as I came back with my third heaped helping. The shelter kitchen was empty, the food was microwaved. It was getting late. We sat at an ancient wooden trestle table on sturdy bench seat, worn to a dirty polish, carved with initials and stained with ages of use. Above us a fan spun lazily and its bladed shadows circled about us. "Hollow legs," I said as I tucked into my latest serving of steaming food. Truth was organic web shooters were pretty draining, as was an enhanced metabolism and feats of amazing strength. I needed calories and bio-matter to be the ultimate Spider-Woman, more so than ever. The plus side was that I would definitely save money by not having to make webbing for web shooters. Those materials were expensive. "So this disappearing stuff. You didn't seem too surprised. What do you know?" I used my bent spoon to punctuate my words. Lyfe shrugged as he sipped his juice box. "Not much. There are rumours- Oh. Crap. Mo Money crew...." he muttered as he stared in worry. Three guys had just entered through the main doors. One pointed at us and the other two glanced our way and started to move through the furniture to our table, footfalls loud on the oaken floors. One wore a backwards baseball cap, one had an eye brow piercing and one was manscaping a truly ridiculous attempt at a beard. "Trouble?" I asked as I chewed noisily. Scar Face the pantless mugger was a Mo Money gang member. From memory it was a decent sized gang in Astoria. I'd run into them before over Drugs - pot mainly which I ignored - webbing up sellers fmoving harder drugs, catching small time snatch and grab stuff - this was often young members trying to get street cred - and busting up fist fights with other gangs or between gang members. Well Spider-Man had. "Kinda. Those guys are a little crazy, they go to my school but they're a few years ahead they have younger members in my year though. They like to rough up people and take their money. Mine in particular," Lyfe said as he looked for a way out. "It's not like I have much money..." "Surely they can't do anything to you here, right?" I asked. I absently sized them up. I judged them hardly on a par with most rent a goons. Teen hell raisers. They had a bad vibe about them though. Young predators. More dangerous cause they had something to prove. If they started anything I could finish it. But I didn't need to draw attention to myself. The one in the baseball cap sat down next to Lyfe, brow piercing sat beside me. The try hard bearded hipster stood to the side, trying to look imposing and not quite nailing it. "Roger. Do you have that money you owe me?" Hipster asked, his grin showing yellowed teeth. "Wait. You told me your name was Lyfe," I said. The three toughs didn't appreciate being interrupted. "Roger..." "Phase," Lyfe warned warily. I appreciated that he didn't use my name. Why would I want these guys to know my name? Anonymity seemed like a good idea. Eye brow piercing placed a hand on my leg and rubbed it. My jaw tightened in irritation at his taking liberty with my leg. No it was more than irritation. The sexual connotations of this were too clear and they honestly shocked me. "Phase Huh? You look like fresh meat," he said. He had bad breath. They all needed a shower. I was furious. This was a whole new thing for me and ... yeah I stopped thinking completely rationally. It was with a visible effort of will that I did not break his hand. My eyes narrowed dangerously though. "Hands off," I growled, pushing away his hand. My voice sounded off. Dammit. It was clearly emotional. I reigned in my emotions as the three snickered, knowing they were getting to me. "He owes you money?" I asked, trying to guide them back on track. "Plus interest," Baseball cap said moving close into my personal space and sniffing me. It was a whole new level of Eewwww! "Compound or simple?" I asked, jaws clenched. Lyfe gave me a look, silently pleading me to stay out of it. The thing was, after the night I'd had and how they were treating me, I wasn't going to let this crap slide. No way. Uh uh. The three stared. "You sassing us?" Brow asked as he gripped my leg again, this time tighter and higher up my inner thigh. No doubt about it, he was trying to intimidate me. I'd been crushed by super villains. This guys' hand was nothing. Still I really didn't like him touching me like this. I really, realy didn't. It was kinda nauseating and ... yeah no. Just so wrong. I watched them with overwhelming irritation. My voice became dark and dangerous and brittle. "I'm not sassing you. I'm just trying to establish what my friend owes. But... I'd really appreciate it if you kept your hands to yourself." I gripped Brows hand and none too gently removed it as I stood. He clearly didn't like that and he stood too, looking down at me. I shook my head, face scowling with disgust. Hipster took Lyfe's bag, looked inside and grinned. He zipped up the bag. "This will do for a start." "I think you'll be returning Lyfe's bag," I told them as I moved to grab my new friends' property. Predictably Hipster threw it to Brow. But I caught it. They blinked. I'd moved pretty fast. Not inhumanly so, but close. Hipster went to grab. I twisted and his grab missed the bag. But he wasn't going for the bag. He grabbed my chest. "Hmmm." I froze in shock. How had that hand even landed?! I knocked his hand away. They laughed mockingly. I was so done with these guys. They'd crossed a line. "Come on kids. Let's take this game outside." I tossed Lyfe's bag back to him. "I need to educate you boys on the various forms of interest and lack of interest." I moved away from them. Sensing a clear challenge to their authority from what they assumed to be a weak, defenseless victim, they followed. I walked outside and unhurriedly crossed the road without looking, entering a dirty rubbish strewn alley hemmed by fire escapes and laundry lines, bare feet avoiding the wetter slimier things littered about. I walked down it casual as you please. I was really angry. I could imagine what these guys were thinking. What they thought of me. And it heightened my rage. Most people... most girls wouldn't be able to do what I could do to teach these punks proper respect and boundaries. When we turned a corner and reached a secluded place amongst miasmic dumpsters and piled black garbage bags I turned about and eyed them, expecting utter childish chauvinistic stupidity. The alley stank of urine and rubbish. Above me air conditioners rattled and thrummed. In the distance the low sonic hiss of the city rumbled. A street lamp flickered. I remembered Master Gong's lessons and tried to relax. But I was livid. A calm purpose was not within my grasp. An angry one was. Time to practice what I'd learned. No spider powers, no super speed or strength. Just simple applied physics. I motioned for one to approach with a wave of one hand that was pure Hong Kong action cinema. I struggled with the urge to destroy these three animals as we squared off. They postured and laughed and made comments that I won't repeat. I felt my anger grow heavier within me. Brow moved forward cockily and tried to grab me. I clasped his wrist, pulled and twisted and he stumbled behind me into bags of garbage. I heard them tear wetly and he cried in disgust as slippery smelly garbage spilled over him. Baseball cap drew a butterfly knife, the blade flashing as he artfully flipped and spun it about with exaggerated flourishes. "You auditioning for America's got Talent?" I asked in disgusted amusement. A guy attacking a defenceless person with a knife. Pitiful. "You little cow..." And with a growl he lunged and slashed. I knocked his knife thrust aside with an open palmed movement then followed through with a swift blow to his solar plexus. He gasped as I winded him, straining to breath. I plucked the blade from his hands and considered it for a moment. Never really used a knife before. I shrugged and tossed it in the piles of moldering garbage. Baseball bent over gasping and hiccuping, the fight knocked out of him. Hipster sneered and drew a small revolver. "Really?" I shook my head. He held it gangster style on its side. "Nice moves for a skirt. I want to see more... The three of us are going to have a little party. And you'll be our party girl. Strip," he ordered. "I'm sorry?" I asked, almost amazed. I was almost sick with disgust. But my boiling anger won out. "I said strip. Clothes off. Now." The young punk motioned with his gun. I tilted my head. "Really?" I felt like face palming in frustration at the sheer idiocy. I moved to the side. He tried to keep me in his sights as I moved forward and ducked then twisted the other way under his aiming arm. With a quick and practiced move I easily had the gun in my hands, Hipster crying out in pain as his fingers twisted and one dislocated. "Hmmm that does work... thanks Gong. Now where were we. Oh yeah. You three wanted to party... and were about to strip." I smiled mirthlessly. Again they stared. I exhaled, trying not to be angry. Trying and failing. "Damn... My meal is getting cold. Strip. In your underwear. Now." I shot the pistol. It made a satisfyingly intimidating noise as the bullet bit into the nearby brick wall. That got them moving. Soon all three of them were butt assed naked and angry as heck. "Good. Now pass me your clothes." I motioned with the gun. I wasn't a fan of these things but I wasn't going to mask or superpower up in front of these idiots. But... how had I ended up here holding a gun?! It had been stupid coming here. Why had I escalated things like this - as Jess and not as Spider- Woman? It was because of the day I'd had and how they'd... I was tired, angry and emotionally wrecked. That led to stupid decisions. But they'd... I shivered. I'd never dealt with something like this before. Never considered it from this perspective. They obeyed, murder in their eyes. "You're going to regret this girl," Brow threatened. I looked at their pasty repulsive bodies. "I already do." I shuddered. This sight would haunt my nightmares no doubt. What was I doing? This wasn't me... "You're making a big mistake," Hipster sneered, "me and my crew will make you regret this." "I doubt it..." I stated. But I was already regretting this. It had got out of hand. They knew about me now. I wasn't Puny Parker. I was a girl that could take on three armed guys in an alley. This wasn't keeping a low profile. This was something people would talk about. Maybe. If their egos let them... but I was still angry. Angry at them and now angry at myself. I took their clothes and fished out their wallets, phones, some cash and about thirty ziplock bags with a greenish powder in it from their pockets. "Well Julio Hernandez." I compared brow with his picture. "Emile Jackson." I looked Hipster over. "And Mathew Crozier." Baseball cap. "Looks like you lads have been up too no good. Trafficking in hard drugs. Hmmm." I put down their wallets, cash and phones. "Let this be a lesson boys. Be polite. Don't go touching girls without their permission. No means no... I'll see you around. Oh. And enjoy your party without me..." I took their clothes and drugs and left. Turning a corner I jumped up to a nearby roof. I heard bare feet chase me and then swearing as they found me gone. I wiped down and dumped the gun, knife, drugs and clothes in a nearby dumpster. A minute later I was heading back to the shelter from the opposite direction to which I'd left. Lyfe stared. "What happened? Are you ok?" he asked. "I thought I heard a shot." I shook my head. "Nah. It's all good. They chased me and I lost them. Turned around and came back. Is my meal still there?" "Er. I think so," he responded as the police car from before pulled up and two officers spoke to a concerned bystander who pointed down the dirty alley. I ducked and shielded my features as we moved inside as inconspicuously as possible. I sat with my back to the street. As I finished up my food Lyfe scowled and filled me in what was happening. "The cops have Julio, Emile and M.C. in cuffs. They're almostvnaked. What the hell?!" I shrugged uncomfortably. "Really? They must have been having a party," I suggested. "Yeah. A party huh?" Lyfe gave me a weird look. "Those guys are part of the Mo Money crew. You're poking a hornets nest. They don't know you but they know me..." He exhaled in annoyance and worry. "Hells bells... look I have to get back to my car to get to bed. I have school tomorrow." "Ok. See you later," I responded woodenly and headed back to my warehouse squat. I realised I needed proper clothes. I couldn't go around half dressed. Maybe if I'd had a bra... I exhaled. This went against everything I believed in but... On my way back to the warehouse I slipped into an apartment store and grabbed three pairs of socks, three cotton panties and three sports bras. I checked the fit of a pair of leather shoes. I grunted in satisfaction. I stuffed them all in my box and then headed for the exit. Shoplifting with spider sense is too easy. I could never do this again... but this was an emergency. I'd prevented a robbery from this shop before. A days earning, over five thousand dollars in cash. I tried to convince myself what I was doing was necessary. That I wasn't a criminal. I failed. So I walked out with about a hundred dollars worth of stock. I felt like a criminal. This was not my proudest moment... but I had what I needed. The basics. I was sorely troubled as I swung back to the warehouse. I climbed numbly into my makeshift bed and slept, feeling like a fraud and a hypocrite and a failure. That night I didn't share any dreams or memories of Peter Parker. That was a first. But I slept fitfully, troubled by dreams of Doc Ock, being caught shoplifting and reviled, of a heartless Henry Gyrich, of an angry Gong, of piles of dead clones all me but not me, of a piteous red furred thing that I had failed, of a heartbroken Kitty Pryde. ... but the worst... The worst dream was that of an immense alien presence, something ancient and brooding, a thing that menaced, that sent horrible blood red barbed tentacles out from its outre, bubbling, seething mass, a thing of cruel liquid pseudopods that squirmed and wriggled obscenely, that swam purposefully through silent starless voids, searching. I hid, sheltered in the darkness, afraid it might see me. Skulking in cowardly terror. I awoke in a sweat and couldn't get back to sleep, an uneasy sense of foreboding haunting me. I stared upwards at the dust covered and cobwebbed saw tooth trusses, eyes searching through the weirdly shifting and oddly angling and curving shadows cast by the streetlights, waxing moon and passing cars. I was reminded of an early German impressionist movie I'd seen with Kitty, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. My sense of unhinged anxiety was not helped by the parade of bizarre and twisted shadows before me. Somewhere a rat scampered and I pulled by sleeping bag closer about me. I hate rats... My thoughts turned to Gwen. The Stacy Experiment they'd called it. Was it Gwen? Or was it the symbiote? The thing had taken something from me when I first fought it. I think it took back that part of itself that was within me and that somehow linked me to Peter's waking life. The symbiote has made me Peter in this body. The symbiote... I thought I knew what it was. Had my dad really created it? Or did it come from somewhere else. Some other time. Some other... I swallowed as I tried to remember my dream. That gulf I had dreamed. It wasn't a where or a when. It felt like something outside space and time... and I was still inextricably linked to it. Yeah I wasn't going to sleep again tonight.