dynamics, 5
It was amazing how much time just flew by for Peter now that he was at MIT. He’d spent the long months before, since the battle at Liberty Island, passing the time by achingly slowly. Every little pain made things drag out a little bit more, and he had just been glad to make it out the end and start anew. But now? Now Peter had friends, who daresay he was starting to consider family. He was studying a degree he’d always looked forward to and actually enjoying it, and he was making a difference in the streets of Boston, Cambridge and even a little of Somerville further north. He and the other had all started spreading out for their solo patrols, and it was proving quite effective now that Peter’s friends had the necessary basic training to be safe on their own. Plus, Ms Marvel had already been doing a pretty fantastic job of looking after her own neighbourhood of Roxbury and the surrounding areas too.
October had arrived. With it, the temperatures had dropped a little, and all of MIT’s campus was starting to fall into a rhythm. Peter was simultaneously amazed that it had only been a month since he moved to Cambridge, and that it hadn’t been longer; especially when it came to knowing his friends. He felt like he already had a year of history with Harley, and perhaps almost as long with Harry, Gwen, Riri and Daisy. It was nice.
Gwen was doing as well as anybody could expect after going no contact with their parents a week prior. She’d recovered from her successful takedown of Black Cat quite quickly, and had two sessions with a new therapist to start unpacking all of everything. Peter and the others were all there as their support net, and Gwen was getting through each day with a renewed vigour to seek out what a freer life could bring. It definitely helped that Daisy had bought out three apartments in Gwen’s building, their one included, and set up a fund that would take care of all maintenance and repairs. No more rent, and Daisy had told the whole gang that they were welcome to move in if they wanted.
Things were going well with Harry, too. He and Peter were really starting to feel like friends again, and the tension was pretty much gone. They had their weekly walk that was just for the two of them, and hung out plenty more anyway. Harry’s training was coming along impressively well, now that the Osborn heir had the hand to hand skills to supplement his magic and properly defend himself. He was developing a reputation in the city as a vigilante who ‘seemed shifty as all hell, but rarely ever shed blood’. Peter couldn’t be prouder.
Today, Sunday, Peter and Harley had plans to hang out that were still something of a mystery. Harley had asked Peter if he was free to come along for something, and said he would explain along the way. So, after breakfast, Peter grabbed a light jacket and made his way out of the dorm building to wait for Harley. He didn’t need to wait long in the crisp morning air, though, because a bump on his shoulder betrayed Harley’s presence within seconds. A combination of Peter trusting Harley and him not being registered as a threat outside of training meant that there was no spider-sense warning of his approach. Well, Peter liked it that way.
“Sup,” Harley greeted, bringing an immediate smile to Peter’s face. His best friend had that effect on him, and it never failed to be a nice feeling. “Sleep okay?”
“Mmm,” Peter hummed an affirmative. “Helped that we finished that assignment early, and actually kept to not messaging past ten.”
Harley chuckled. “Ooh yeah, look at us go. Keepin’ each other to an actually healthy sleep schedule. I wonder how long it’ll last?”
“I give it a week,” Peter teased. “Maybe more if we work really hard. So, what’s this super secret plan of yours for the day?”
“Well,” Harley drew out the vowel, and then sighed. “Walk ‘n talk? It’s more... a favour, because there’s somethin’ I wanna do today and I needed some company for it. You know I started therapy a couple weeks back, yeah?”
Peter nodded, and casually bumped his side into Harley a little spontaneously as they walked, as though to remind his friend that he was there, he was listening, and he was ready to provide support. “Yup, and you mentioned the guy’s been pretty good?”
“Yeah!” Harley exclaimed. “Real good about helpin’ me start workin’ on stuff at a comfortable pace. Well, there’s somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to do for a while that’s a little outside of my comfort zone, and we talked about me givin’ it a go. So... I wanna get a tattoo.”
“Something significant, I’m guessing?” Peter probed gently. If Harley just wanted to get a tattoo for fun, he would have asked Peter straight up for company and they would have made a day of it, all planned in advance. There wouldn’t have been any secretiveness to it - in fact, Peter would be prepared to bet that Harley would have sent him pictures of whatever design he had in mind. “Do you wanna talk about it on the way?”
Harley shrugged. “Kinda? I mean, it’s a little heavy, but... yeah. Is that okay?”
“Course it’s okay, Harls,” Peter assured him, and they moved off out campus and onto one of the southbound bridges into Boston. “And hey, you don’t have a monopoly on a history of shitty times.”
Harley laughed a little louder at that. “God, yeah. I just... shit was dark for me about a year ago. It was kind of a delayed reaction, but after Tony passed things just started fallin’ apart around me. I... well, I wanted somethin’ to kind of- I wanna acknowledge it with a tattoo so I can appreciate everythin’ I have now. If that makes sense?”
“Completely,” Peter declared. He thought back to where he’d been mentally in February, when he’d hit his lowest low and legitimately tried to take his own life. He had failed, obviously, and Claire had made damn well sure that he healed okay. Now, Peter was just infinitely glad he hadn’t succeeded. The first couple of months after had been a slow crawl upwards into getting better, but Jess, Daredevil and Claire had stuck by him and pretty much saved his life by being present and helping with the little things. And now, here he was. “So, where’s the place?”
“It’s actually not far,” Harley said as he pointed vaguely south, across the bridge. “Just a block or two down once we get to the end of this bridge. I booked a few days ago and they said they had an openin’ for this mornin’, so there probably won’t be much of a wait.”
“Alright, easy,” Peter responded, and gave Harley another little shoulder bump. “Need me to hold your hand or something?”
Harley scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Please, you think my pain tolerance is that poor after everythin’ you, Daisy and Bobbi put me through?”
Peter smirked. “You never know, with something like this. Besides, I can however tight you need to squeeze.”
“Piss off,” Harley shot back, but there was no bite to his words. “So... about the tattoo.”
When Harley paused again between his words, Peter did nothing other than keep walking and give his friend the time he needed to be ready to share.
“It’s... do you know what semicolon tattoos mean?” Harley asked, and oh.
Now Peter completely understood what was going on, what this tattoo was about and the bare basics of why it was going to be so damn important. “Yeah. I’ve, um... well, I’ve toyed with the idea of getting one myself. So that’s what today’s for?”
Harley nodded. He stopped, and leaned back against the side rails of Harvard Bridge. “Yeah. Like I said, I’ve been workin’ on this with my therapist a bit. I’m doin’ way better now than I was back then, and now I can’t even imagine tryin’ to- Sorry. I don’t wanna drop too much of this shit on you, that’s stuff better saved for therapy.”
Peter reached out and offered Harley a hand. Harley took it, and Peter hoped he found the contact reassuring. “It’s alright, Harls. Really. We don’t have to talk about it too much if you don’t want to, but... if you were about to say what I think you were, um. You’re, uh, not alone.”
“Oh,” Harley managed. “Oh. Yeah, maybe I need more therapy before I can really open up about that time, but it’s what came after that makes me want this tattoo, you know? I mean, after, my Ma reached out to Pepper and she kind of swooped in and gave me stuff to do, things to look forward to. I think it’d be fair to say that Pepper saved me.”
“You ever heard of Jessica Jones, or Daredevil?” Peter asked.
“I know the first one,” Harley answered. “I’m pretty sure Pepper actually hired Jones at one point to help track down one of Aldritch Killian’s old buddies and get some things sorted without too much bloodshed. Not so sure about the other name, though.”
“Well, I guess those two, plus their nurse friend Claire, were my Pepper. They all only know me as Spidey, and they were just there when I needed them,” Peter explained. “They got me through the tunnel. Hey, would you be okay if I asked about getting one too, today? I don’t wanna steal your moment or anything.”
Harley hummed for a moment. “Sure, if they can fit you in. Do you need a hand to hold?”
Peter smirked. “Sure, if you can handle it!”
“Ugh,” Harley groaned. “Hug?”
“Hug,” Peter agreed, and stepped forward to wrap grateful arms around his friend.
They walked the rest of the way in amicable silence, only taking a little under ten minutes to reach the studio, named Parley Parlour. Outside, there were several displays of sample artworks visible through the window, and Peter could also see the six tattooing stations inside. Four of them were occupied, and there were a few people hanging out at the front. When Harley stopped and took a couple deep breaths outside, Peter put a hand on his shoulder and gently squeezed.
“Need a moment?” Peter asked.
Harley shook his head. “Nah, I just wanna go for it. To be honest, I’ve been thinkin’ about gettin’ this tattoo for months now. I can do this.”
“Yeah, you can,” Peter agreed, and reached for the door handle. He opened the door wide, and gestured for Harley to go in first. With Harley leading the way, they proceeded up to the counter where a person with a bleach-blonde buzzcut and several lip piercings greeted both of them.
“Hey, how can I help y’all?” The person asked.
Harley leaned forward a little. “I had an appointment or this mornin’. Under the name Harley Keener?”
They grabbed a tablet and swiped up to a calendar display. “Yup, I see ya here. You’re with me, actually. I’m Kent, we’ve been emailing a little over the last couple days. You feeling ready? This kind of tattoo is... well, obviously it’s a big deal.”
Harley took in a breath, and nodded. “Yeah. It’s a step forward. I’m good to go when you are.”
“Cool cool,” Kent responded, and then swiped to yet another display. “Well, did ya want any modifications to the basic design? Some people like to put their semicolons in colour, others prefer something plain.”
“Just a plain black one, on the back of my wrist, a little off to one side,” Harley said, and turned to look at Peter. Peter looked up at him, and let a smile draw across his face. One of appreciation that Harley was healing from something similar to Peter, and they were both here to continue their stories. “And, uh... Pete?”
Peter took the cue and turned to face Kent again. “I was wondering if you might have time to do another? Or maybe one of the other artists here? Similar tattoo, but my version of the design might be a bit more complicated.”
Kent swiped back to their calendar display, and nodded. “Yeah, sure. I actually have a couple hours open after your friend’s session. Plus, his will be a pretty quick one, so as long as I can get Harley’s stencil placement done quickly I should have time to do another. Take the time to make sure you’re sure about it though, okay?”
“I’m sure,” Peter affirmed, and leaned his head on Harley’s shoulder. “It’s... yeah. Want me to show you the design now?”
“Sure, why not,” Kent responded, and set their tablet down on the countertop. “So, what’ve ya got for me?”
Peter pulled out his phone, and quickly googled ‘Hebrew word for life’. It would have been easier if he had a Hebrew keyboard on his phone, with his passable knowledge of how to read the Hebrew alphabet, but he didn’t. Once he had a good picture up, and pointed to the letter on the right. “Like this, but this piece of the letter on the right gets switched out for the semicolon. Is that doable?”
Kent shrugged. “Sure! Once Harley’s session is done I’ll draw up the design and make sure you’re happy with it. Sound good?”
“Yeah, easy,” Peter affirmed. “Are there any rules against each of us coming over to the station for the other’s session?”
Kent shook their head. “Nah. Alright, give me about five minutes and I’ll be ready to go.”
About two hours later, Peter and Harley walked out with almost-matching tattoos on their right wrists. To Peter, having that tattoo with a semicolon built into the Hebrew word for life was beyond comforting and especially fitting - a reminder that surviving had been so damn worth it.
Riri’s hand clutched for a mallet that had been set down on a warehouse table almost half an hour ago already. When she was especially stressed, she liked to work on her various projects, and reaching for a tool when her brain constructed a plan for whatever she was working on was practically a reflex at this point. Got an idea for a colour theme with a small bot she’d built? Reach for the spray paint. Figured out how to upgrade the blasters on her suit? She’d reach for a screwdriver and get ready to disassemble them. But this wasn’t a stressor she could just build her way out of. No, it was a problem she had to solve by going and dealing with it directly.
It shouldn’t have been this hard. It shouldn’t have occupied her mind so far, but... well, Riri didn’t have much experience dealing with crushes like this before. What had started as pretty innocent flirtation and some fun making out at a club had turned into Gwen becoming someone that Riri cared for a hell of a lot. And now that Gwen had come out the other end of the personal shit they were dealing with, now that they were doing okay, Riri wanted to have a certain discussion with them. Riri wanted to know what the two of them were doing.
Because Riri wanted more, and that was... mostly new. Only one other person had made her feel like this, and Shuri was busy doing who even knew what for the interests of both Wakanda and Talokan. She’d even made it clear that the possibility of them being together was definitely on the table, and Riri would be lying if she tried to deny having gone off and researched the concept of polyamory a whole bunch. Not just researched it, but thought about it a lot, and realised that yes, it was something Riri was down for. In theory. The fact, however, was that she had no clue what was going on with her and Gwen.
Plus, it was a good opportunity to just check in and see how her friend was doing. But Riri wasn’t going to accomplish anything just standing outside Gwen’s apartment, so she finally took a deep breath and knocked. About fifteen seconds later, the door swung open.
“Riri!” Gwen exclaimed, a grin splitting across her face and dimpling the space to either side of her lips. “I didn’t realise you were coming over. Did I forget something?”
Riri shook her head. “Nah. I hope it’s okay that I just swung by?”
Gwen shrugged. “Sure, no problem. Wanna come in?”
Riri nodded, and stepped through the threshold of Gwen’s single bedroom apartment. There was a smell of something buttery wafting through despite the sound of a kitchen fan running at full blast. “I didn’t interrupt or anything, did I? Smells like cooking.”
“Nup, just finished. Want some pancakes?” Gwen offered. “I have a little extra, been fucking around with some different recipes and learning more cooking skills.”
“Sure, won’t say no,” Riri accepted the offer, and then followed Gwen over to a small dining table. “So, uh... can we talk?”
Gwen paused mid-step, and then resumed their path to the kitchen. “About us, I’m guessing?”
“Yeah,” Riri confirmed. She wasn’t sure if the fact that Gwen was expecting a conversation like this made it easier or harder. “I’ve been wanting to, but didn’t want to put this on you while you were dealing with... shit.”
“Mmm,” Gwen hummed, and started plating up some pancakes. “Me too, actually. And yeah, it’s probably good that we waited. I’ll just bring the food and some toppings over. Do you wanna start, or should I?”
“I can, I guess,” Riri offered - but it was truly less of an offer and more of her wanting to talk so she didn’t just feel like a nervous mess. While she was starting to accept that she wasn’t going to get back to the level of confidence and cool control she had over her life last year any time soon, little bits and pieces of taking the lead helped. She waited until Gwen had brought everything over and sat down before starting to speak again.
“I, uh... I honestly can’t tell whether what we were doing at the start of semester was just a bit of casual fun for you or not, but...” Riri started, and then paused. “It kinda was for me, at first? I just wanted to explore, because thinking of myself as anything but straight was new, and you’re pretty cool. I barely knew you and we weren’t talking about anything serious. But then shit happened, and I got to know you more, and I guess I do want more. More than just something casual and temporary.”
Gwen grinned, and squeezed a little too hard on a bottle of chocolate syrup. The mistake was quickly remedied by spreading the overflow of syrup around with a knife. “Awesome. I mean... I guess the first couple of times we hung out - you know, when we got piercings and then that time at the club - it was just casual fun for me. But that didn’t last. I’m definitely interested in, you know, dating and hopefully a lasting relationship and stuff like that, but there was never a good chance to talk about that until now. I’m glad you showed up, because believe it or not, I’m not exactly good at making the first move when it comes to anything other than hookups.”
Forgoing any sweet toppings, Riri grabbed a salt shaker and sprinkled some salt across her pancake. “Huh. Yeah, I’m surprised by that. So... you’re saying that you’re down for more?”
Of course, Riri managed to catch Gwen at a time they were busy chewing. There was an awkward waiting period as Gwen quickly chewed and swallowed the food in her mouth. “Yeah, uh. Yes, very much so. I should be upfront about something, though. I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned that I’m poly before?”
“Mhm,” Riri hummed in confirmation through the bit of pancake in her mouth. The fact that her brain hadn’t turned to mush the moment Gwen well and truly confirmed they were interested amazed her and brought no small amount of relief. It was an assurance that she still had at least some semblance of that emotional composure she used to be so damn proud of.
“Yeah, well... I really hope that’s cool with you because not being able to date other people would kinda be a dealbreaker for me,” Gwen declared. “For me, that means occasional hookups that would probably be mostly casual, and potentially also having other steady partners if I meet someone I vibe with like that. I couldn’t see myself dating more than two or three people at once, though.”
“I’m fine with that,” Riri assured them, and set her cutlery down. “I’ve been doing some reading about all that lately, actually. The whole deal, all the communication required, different kinds of poly relationship setups, how it all works. Which, well... I should be upfront about some stuff too.”
Gwen put her cutlery down too, laced her fingers together and rested her chin on the bridge they formed. Riri’s brain fully stuttered for a moment, because damn that was cute. The way Gwen held themself there, with their attention on Riri like that, it did things to Riri’s heart. A blush fought its way to her face, and she let out a sigh.
“You know how I mentioned a girl who made me realise I wasn’t straight?” Riri asked.
Gwen chuckled. “Ah yes, Princess Shuri. Oh, and she was in town a little over a week ago, wasn’t she? Got some follow-up action, did you?”
Riri blushed even harder. “No! I mean, kind of? Not exactly. She’s busy right now, and I have no clue when she’ll be back. But she did say she was going to come back some time, and...” Riri sighed, this time in exhasperation at Shuri’s antics. “She asked me to a Bulls game. And mentioned that polyamory is pretty common in Wakanda, when I said I was seeing someone.”
Gwen started rolling their head side to side on the backs of their hands. “Well, do you wanna go to that Bulls game?”
“I...” Riri paused. “Yeah. She’s... yeah.”
“Cool,” Gwen smiled. “Princess Shuri definitely does have a certain something something going on, I get it. So. Us, dating. Fuck yeah. What do you say to taking things a little slow for now, though? Because of all the... you know.”
“Deal,” Riri agreed. “How are you doing with all of that, by the way?”
Gwen leaned back, and set their hands down to drum against the table. “Eh. Okay-ish. Lots of cuddle time with Harry, and Norman has been insisting I come over for dinner every other day so I have some good company. And Daisy just moved in next door after literally buying out half the fucking building, which is still completely baffling, but... nice.”
“Yeah, I heard about that,” Riri laughed. “So what, the neighbours just took the money and moved out just like that?”
“Kind of, actually,” Gwen answered. “I mean, the three bedroom right next door was already vacant, but the people in the two bedroom down the hall said they’re moving out in a week. Normally I’d be wary as all shit of someone with the money to throw around to just buy three apartments like that, but on top of no longer having to pay any rent, it’s pretty fucking funny that my new sister will just be like ‘hey I’m gonna go do something in my van, I’ll be back in an hour’ and she’ll come back having siphoned at least millions of dollars from some random billionaire and put it into non-profit funding or, you know, bought three fucking apartments.”
Riri couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “You, Gwen, have one hell of a sister.”
It had taken some work to convince Daisy to let him get involved, but Peter had finally succeeded. The weapons dealer known as The Manufacturer was a threat, one that Peter wanted to use his skills and experience to help take down. The threat of the terrigen crystals was just too big for Peter to not do whatever he could to help get them off the market and out of reach of those who would misuse them. And if Daisy was confident she could find this Manufacturer, Peter wanted to help her take them down. For now, they were just going on a mission to the town of Wakefield, which wasn’t far given that it was a part of the Greater Boston region.
“Remember, I’m only letting you come with because I know for a fact that there’s no terrigen where we’re going yet,” Daisy reminded Peter again as they drove down the I-93 in her van. “Cailan and I found a document listing potential terrigen buyers, and with that I was able to get a lock on this initial meeting happening tonight. It might be one of the Manufacturer’s inner circle, so the plan is to capture whoever it is and get as much information as we can.”
“Alright,” Peter acknowledged, and then sighed. “While we’re still on the way, there’s something I wanted to run by you about that. Whoever this Manufacturer is, the fact that they have enough power and influence to keep something like this going means that you’re gonna need help when you finally find them and go in for the final shutdown.”
“Yeah,” Daisy agreed. “I’ve got Cailan and Gwen for that. The three of us are immune to the modified terrigen, and the rest of you aren’t.”
“But what if we could be?” Peter suggested. “What if we could develop a way to protect ourselves from it?”
“Well that’d be wonderful, but how do you plan to go about that?” Daisy questioned, and turned off the I-93 onto the I-95. “Jemma’s already tried to develop an inoculation against the terrigenisis process. It didn’t work.”
“Huh. An inoculation for who?” Peter asked, because... his main idea had been to work with Harley and Gwen on some kind of immunization, even if it was a temporarily solution rather than something permanent. He knew enough about biology and genetics to have a basic idea on where to start, but that was his best bet. He’d also considered some kind of suit filter, but that wouldn’t work if the suits got damaged.
At first, Daisy didn’t answer the question. Instead, she pulled over to a rest spot along the road and stopped the van. “Fuck. It was supposed to be a treatment for people with Inhuman genetics, because they were the only ones threatened by the terrigen in the water. But if the rest of you aren’t Inhuman...”
“Then that completely changes the requirements,” Peter finished her sentence. “You said the crystals are infused with the metal from something called a Diviner, and that metal is lethal to humans without the gene. The goal here wouldn’t be to block off the gene like in a potential preventative measure to stop terrigenisis, but rather to identify what biological process is triggered by the Diviner metal that turns people to stone, and stop that. If a gene-based treatment doesn’t work, a medication or even a toxin that fights off whatever it is in the Diviner doing harm could be administered, perhaps by nanoparticles or something similar.”
“Well fuck,” Daisy exclaimed. “That’s... completely different to what Jemma was even trying to do. Huh, alright. I’ve still got that case of terrigen crystals from when we met, will that help?”
“It should. And either you or Gwen can be there to handle the materials directly so nobody gets hurt. If this works, non-Inhumans could become temporarily immune to the effects of the Diviner metal. And if we don’t get it done in time, we don’t go.”
“Deal,” Daisy agreed, and started the van up again. “Alright, let’s get back on the road. Trade’s going down at the edge of the lakeside cemetery which is kind of dodgy, but easy enough to work with.”
It took a little over five more minutes to reach the cemetery, and Daisy made sure to park and lock the van a good few blocks away. Peter was already suited up and ready to go, so he took off for the first line of trees he saw and swung up somewhere he could stay hidden. Daisy lingered on the ground, a hoodie under her jacket and a pair of sunglasses partially concealing her identity. If the information was right, the cemetery would have some more guests in about ten minutes.
The information was right. Another van pulled up, this one black with deeply tinted windows, and a few armed individuals got out and started walking towards the water. Three minutes later, a single unaccompanied individual in a white coat wandered casually towards the designated meeting point. It was right by the water, several metres past any of the graves, with a few smaller weaker trees on either side. The ground was covered in fallen brown leaves that would definitely make stealth on foot much harder.
“Shit,” Daisy hissed over comms. “I know her.”
“Oh?” Peter questioned.
“In the white coat. That’s Doctor Wilton, from Afterlife. She was completely on side with my mom’s plan. I don’t remember her having any abilities yet, but that could have changed,” Daisy explained. “And if she’s come here alone, she’s got to be confident. See if you can listen in on the conversation first, and we’ll engage after.”
“Copy that,” Peter replied somewhat jokingly, playing into the whole ‘spy agency mission’ theme. He couldn’t move much closer without making a problematic amount of noise. Instead, Peter closed his eyes and just focused on his his hearing.
“-need proof that the product works before we agree to any kind of ‘downpayment’ you lot are after.”
“I can assure you that the product works. The Basilisk Eggs have been on the market for quite some time now. Surely you’ve seen or heard of their effects for yourself?”
“Hearing and seeing are two different things, missy.”
“That’s Doctor to you.”
“Whatever. Did you bring a sample?”
“Now, why on earth would I do that? The product is quite valuable, and equally quite dangerous. Did you intend to test it on one of your own people? Or on me, perhaps? I’m sure you can understand why I can’t take that kind of chance.”
“And you expect me to agree to buy it without any proof. Hah. You know what, maybe we can play a little game of ransom. Me and my people will let you get back to your precious Manufacturer once the bastard sends us a shipment of this weapon of yours, free of charge. How’s that sound?”
“I would urge you to reconsider that course of action, Mister Carver. The Manufacturer has had an eye on your group for quite some time now. It’s behaviour like this that has informed him that you should not be given any free supply shipments, as we cannot trust you to handle the weapons appropriately. We were, however, willing to provide you with a full shipment of Basilisk Eggs for the going rate. You still have that opportunity, but this is your last chance.”
“Fuck that. You two, restrain this bitch. We’re taking her in.”
“They’re about to fight,” Peter whispered.
“I can see that,” Daisy responded. “Give it a moment. I want to see what Wilton can do. If it looks like she’s gonna get taken down, then we go in.”
“Roger roger.”
So Peter watched. This Doctor Wilton was up against three armed thugs. The leader had twin pistols drawn into his hand impressively quickly, both pointed at the Doctor immediately. His two followers behind him drew electrified clubs and started to move. When Wilton simply smiled and remained unmoving, one of the thugs swung a club at her.
It passed right through her body, leaving her uninjured and unaffected. The thug stared at her, while the other one took their turn to swing their weapon too. This time, Peter watched far more closely, and saw that Wilton’s body was transforming into a gasseous form, and then recollecting itself once she was no longer in immediate danger. Well, that would make things hard; trying to capture someone who couldn’t be hit was going to take a lot of work. Harry could probably pull it off, but Peter wasn’t confident that he or Daisy had the skills required. At least, not without preparation time and a sufficiently dense metal container.
“Hold on,” Daisy said. “Got any ideas?”
“You got a dense metal container somewhere that’s large enough to fit her inside it?” Peter asked back. “Otherwise, no.”
Daisy sighed. “Okay, fall back.”
Peter didn’t need to ask if Daisy was sure. If the two of them went in to attack Doctor Wilton now, any attempt at trying to locate and capture the Manufacturer would only grow more difficult. It was almost certain that Wilton would escape and tip the Manufacturer off that Daisy was getting closer to finding him. Not only that, but Peter doubted Wilton would give them much information, since she didn’t seem like an over-sharer. No, combat wouldn’t work. Slowly and carefully, he climbed down the tree and made his escape back towards the van. While on the move, Peter pulled out his phone and called Harley.
“Hey, what’s up?” Harley asked as soon as the call connected.
“Can you get access to any of the Stark tracking satellites?”
“Sure, give me a minute. What do you need it for?”
“Lakeside Cemetery in Wakefield. There’s a woman in a white coat currently engaged in combat. Can you send a drone down to follow her? Find out where she’s headed next.”
“On it.”