Entangled

Alright, let's do this one more time.

My name is Arabella Donovan; a radioactive spider bit me, and for the last seven years, I have been the only Spider-Woman. You all should know the rest.

In my universe, I live in the year 2078. New York City has been torn apart in two ways: the high city and the grounders. Grounders were the little people who stayed when New York broke. The town had been riddled with a plague years ago, and due to the lack of resources, the best the city could do was mask themselves, avoid the water, evade the toxic rains that fell from the Skys, and hope that one day the municipality will reunite with the high city. 

On the other hand, the high city had been filled to the brim with all of the New yorks richest and most powerful beings. The Sinister Six had been the city's 'defender' against Spider-Woman and her gang of phantoms. Kraven provided the city with the highest of meat and eradicated countless species of animals, leaving the city below with no natural food sources. The crime lords in the city's capitol— Tombstone, Hammerhead, and others, but the one who ran the city? The one who separated and funded the split? The worst of them all, Kingpin. 

But me running the streets for the past seven years has stopped everything, every production, every move the high city wanted to take on the grounders. I was doing something, and it was working. But the life of spider-woman was getting…hard. Harder. 

Being a spider woman, in the beginning, was excellent. That was before M.J., my best friend, died. My childhood best friend, Harry, betrayed me, and I lost the love of my life, Glenn. And so I decided that having regular friends wasn't on the charts for me anymore. It helped me focus on the more essential things.

I created a group of people, vigilantes. I hate being called a hero. A hero was something I never wanted to be. I never wanted to be hailed for my good deeds, to save people when that's fundamental human nature. Being called a hero feels like I need to be compensated for what I do and that the worst thing I could do is expect praise from the people I swear to help.

So there's me, my now best friend Moonknight, who's got some issues of his own; Punisher, who always supports my more bloody side of my actions, Daredevil, who's a little more than just helpful when it comes to the rights of my people and Jessie Jones, the best P.I. one could ever ask for. We were trying to set the city back to how it should be. They were the only ones who knew my identity— who I was under the mask.

There are only a handful of times when it comes down to fighting up in the tycoon city. Having lovely conversations with Kingpin about how I'm a little bug and need to be destroyed—truthfully, I think he's just a silly man, like come on, how does he not know I'm not a bug—I'm an arachnid. 

But…the life of Arabella Donovan is entirely different.

In a way, I've disconnected myself from Arabella Donovan. It wouldn't be the first time. I disconnected from myself before my transition, that was. I started my transition the same year I became a spider woman; in a way, Spider-Woman helped me become who I am today.

I would be Spider-woman by night and him by day until I couldn't handle it anymore. Until my father realized that if he wanted me to live, he'd give me what I wanted and needed. And my father, the prideful, powerful, power-hungry Kingpin, did not honestly want to lose his daughter. 

But becoming Arabella came with consequences, like losing your childhood best friend that you thought had your back. Finding it, they were just the same as others. Being outcasted and not being thrown down into the city like others was because of Kingpin. She had the protection no others had. 

That's why Spider-Woman felt like a different identity than who I was as the daughter of Kingpin—being groomed to take over the city, to run it like him. To be proper, to be tyrannical, just like him. Arabella Donovan was strong-willed, sarcastic but also angry. Anger that Kingpin thought was misplaced, anger that he thought was normal when it came to a girl like me. 

Arabella Donovan was soft. I was quiet as her. Soft in the way I would stand in my father's shadow. Say yes, and never fight back. Look presentable with the colors blue, gold, and white—the colors of the people controlling countless lives. 

But Spider-Woman was different.

Spider-Woman was indeed who I was. Outwardly angry, quickly skilled, deadly, and dressed in black and white. Colors of the people below. Colors to show that showed that she would care for them. Colors that matched the little people in promise of bringing down the A.Is, tycoons and connections back where they needed. 

But for now, Living as Spider-woman has given me an escape that has made me feel free. 

Arabella sat on the edge of a building, not looking at anything but feeling herself dissociate into the distance. She didn't realize that someone appeared next to her.

"I know that look," The voice brought her back to the surface, glancing to her side as a familiar face sat next to her, Jake Lockley.

"Hi, Jake,"

"Mmm, Something wrong?" He asked in Spanish, nudging her.

"Something? More like everything. Everyone…”Arabella rubbed her face, leaning over her knees and looking down. She watched as low-flying cars passed, all used in some way.

Jake didn't move as he watched her. It made Arabella groan. That was his way of prompting her to keep talking.

"Feeling that lack of inspiration to keep going as Spider-Woman. I know what I'm doing; I know it's to keep everyone safe. But is it worth it to lie to everyone? It feels…I feel like I need to do something more, not just as Spider-woman,"

Jake hummed, crossing his arms over his chest as he flicked his baseball cap.

"Steven says it's not lying. I don't think it is," Jake shrugged.

"And what of Marc? I'm sure he has many things to say," Arabella chuckled, leaning back and moving her hands under her head.

"Ah…Well…I haven't talked to him in a week. He's pissed,"

That made Arabella laugh, staring at the light-polluted sky and groaning.

"Do you remember when we found out that friend of yours used to be Hydra?" Arabella turned over to her friend, seeing him cringe.

"Yeah. Was a shit blow,"

"Mhm…I know it's not the same, but it feels…the same? Im fighting the same people that I'm a part of and using a mask to cover my crimes,"

"Princess…you know that's not the same," Jake groaned, rubbing his eyes. Arabella watched him look off into the city, his expression slowly changing to a softer one.

"It's not the same!" Steven turned to her, grabbing her hand and holding it tightly.

"You protect these people, Ari! You created an entire team from scratch to help you. To help us protect the people of the night. Bloody hell, I don't think we would be the same people if we didn't meet you!" Steven smiled at her gently, making her kiss his hand.

"Does it also count if I told the people who care about me the most that I'm one person only to have them figure out I'm different than they thought?" Arabella asked, tightening her grip on his hand.

"Well…who did you present to them? I like to think…in this example, we're talking about personalities, but I like to think that I'm not lying to people when I meet them as me. Or when people meet Jake as Jake and so on. It's not lying because it's not who you are. You may be Arabella Donovan, but you are not Arabella Fisk," 

Arabella pressed his hand to her face. Steven always knew how to cheer up her mood in one way or another.

"That's a nice way to put it," 

"Yeah! And if I may ask…is this about the bloke you've been seeing? The British one?" Steven smiled, lifting a brow at her.

"Mmm, maybe?" She gave him a cheesy look and turned her head.

"See! I knew you'd like the British peeps; sadly, it wasn't me, but id like to meet this one," Steven joked and nudged her.

"Hey, come on, don't make fun of me. And it's just…he followed me. Followed me here, on my birthday, which I didn't even tell him it was,"

"You didn't tell your partner it was your birthday?"

"No…you know how I feel about my birthday…" She mumbled, taking her hand from him and sitting up.

"Oh? Right right…Glenn…the murderous rampage you went on and eliminated the Frightful four for good," 

Steven nodded, missing the glare that Arabella gave him.

"Bro. Really? I mean… it…come on." She rubbed the back of her head, tensing.

"What? You did! Frank was happy to finally see you do some real damage that day—despite the circumstances…." 

"Yeah…I can't say I hate my lack of no-kill rules. This extends to the Kingpin himself. The moment I can get my hands around his stupid neck will be the last time he draws air. And I want him to know that it's me. I want him to know that the daughter he swears to do right by is the one that's slowly killing his trade and the people around him…." 

Steven watched her with wide eyes as she moved her hands into a choking motion.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side," 

Arabella laughed, enjoying the company of her friends for a little longer before Steven decided to head off. It left Arabella to think more about her situation and how she didn't want to have her two identities anymore, how she wanted to be Arabella Donovan, Spider-woman, and not Arabella Fisk. 

She thought that if the world did see her as one person, what would it be like? Would the grounders riot because she had been lying? Or would they be okay knowing that a Fisk changed her name three times to represent who she was and officially be proud that she was breaking the system?

She realized none of that mattered. It didn't matter how or who they perceived her as long as she was helping the people. And slowly, she decided that she had to plan out carefully. 

But first, she needed to apologize. The crippling emotional pain of thinking someone hated her was becoming too much. Coming to terms with the fact that she may have hurt Hobie was something she was trying to steer away from for days.

She hoped he didn't hate her. She hoped that everyone would understand—or maybe she didn't know them as well as she thought she did—just as they thought about her. She let out a frustrated groan, kicking her feet until she exhausted herself. 

She stopped off in the city below her, stopping some kids and fixing up some damage where possible. After finishing up, she sighed, heading back to what was supposed to be her home. She cloaked herself as always, crawling through her window and slipping inside. 

"M.J., did my prescription come in?" Arabella asked, stripping her suit and mask and hiding it.

"It didn't. Your father has them with Dr. Rogan. He sent out an alert for you five minutes ago," 

"Ah, great, M.J., for letting me know," Arabella fixed up her hair; it took seconds as her hair was braided, allowing one of her bots to install a lace front quickly. She exited her room and went to Dr. Rogan's office.

"I have arrived," Arabella said with exhaustion, seeing the doctor and her father speaking.

"Did something change?" Arabella asked Dr. Paying no mind to her father, who glared.

"Ah! Hello Miss, nothing has changed, fortunately. I uh.." He paused, looking at Kingpin.

"I told him to hold it," Kingpin shifted, looking at her and tapping a finger against his cane.

"Why?" Arabella leaned against the wall, irritation setting across her brow.

“We were talking about…how to proceed with your…” Kingpin paused,

Arabella smiled at him with irritation, "Come on. Say it; it's been a couple of fucking years, you can say it,"

"Transition," 

"What about it," Arabella could see that the Dr. Was uncomfortable, which was expected regarding her father and her interactions.

"As you know, we've come a long way regarding these transitions. The surgeries. Much like the first one, which I have not received a thank you for," 

It took everything in Arabella not to lunge at him, her expression calm as she shifted.

"Mmm, yes. Thank you for so graciously providing me with the care that you signed up for when you decided that maybe you shouldn't have a child die so very publicly," 

Kingpin furrowed his brows, sweat lining his brow. She could tell his knuckles were bruised, so she assumed he roughed someone earlier. A sharp pang went through her heart as she realized this.

"Yes, we finally have the technology to help with your other…assets. Getting rid of them and adding your preferred ones!" The DR. Stepped in, smiling as he spoke and making a projection.

"What? We've always had the technology to do these things. I…want to do it later,"

"Well, as your doctor, I understand that. But we have been able to find a donor! This has increased your chances of having a healthy, beautifully-"

"I'm sorry, a donor?" Arabella asked, her irritation now pointed at the D.R., who slowly and visibly started to shake.

"Ah..yes…for the rest of your transition. We didn't need a donor at first; we were using the technology to create a synthetically modified uterus," 

Arabella looked at him like he was some foreign object, then turned to her father and back at him.

"What the jeebs are we talking about?" 

Her father cleared his throat, standing and towering over her.

"I have considered this ordeal. You want…are a woman. It would be best if you were treated as so. It would be best if you had everything regarding that. It's taken me far too long to understand how far this whole thing goes,"

Arabella was still trying to figure out what he was talking about. She didn't care how supportive or unsupportive he was when it came to her.

"Are you trying to tell me I need…" She paused, scoffing and rubbing her face, now pacing.

"Let me get this straight. Let me comprehend what you're trying to tell me-"

"Arabella, I am doing this for you. It's what your mother-"

"You know nothing of my mother and what she wanted for me," The tension in the room rose, and everyone stood still. Her glare was sharp like daggers as she glared at her father, her jaw set as her teeth ground in irritation. 

"I want you to be able to produce. I want you to be able to become the leader I need you to become. I love you as my child, and I am giving you everything…Even Harry Osborn has decided to support you, and this. He will take care of you, and you take care of him."

The mention of Harry's name did more than irritate her. It was like a knife stab in the gut, so much so that she whipped around and pushed something over. The doctor yelled in a complaint to fix what she had just destroyed, her eyes changing from emerald green to something else. She could feel her elbows itch with her stingers wanting to come out.

"What could you possibly talk about? Please say what you're trying to say," She hissed at him, balling her fist as she tried to understand what he wanted her to do. What suggestion he was trying to make happen?

"Harry Osborn has apologized. He tried apologizing on the day of your birthday, but he said you didn't want to see him. So he came to me, saying he would apologize and agree on where his father's company would stand with us. He and his father are creating another device to elevate another part of the city. To bring us together. Like I said, good business. So with that being said, he agreed only if you and he make up. And he would support your transition by offering his services and a donor to ensure you and Harry have a plentiful life. Together, eventual children,"

Arabella could describe the rage and disgust swelling up in her chest. She couldn't even begin to breathe properly out of pure rage. She wished she could throw him. She could if she wanted, but that meant outing herself. She stood tall, trying to calm herself down before she spoke; everything she held in her body slowly seeped pit of her as she focused control on not lashing out strongly.

"You have got to be losing your goddamn mind," She said, a deep rumble coming from her as she cleared her throat, her eye twitching.

"I want what's best for you-"

"No, you do not! You're a power-hungry, selfish, ignorant fuck ass. You destroyed this city and asked me to run it with you and be what? You know, I know exactly who you are. You think I don't, but I do. I know everything. I know that's why Mom…I know. This is what she was talking about,"

Arabella didn't spare him another second of her presence as she left the room. Her anger itched at her fingers as she went to her room. She didn't think while she grabbed her suit and some other things and sealed her door.

"M.J., I need you to reset."

"Of course," She saw as M.J. fizzled out and her room powered down. She grabbed the things most important to her, found her watch, and put it on her wrist. She was at a point where she wasn't thinking the best. But she knew it would get ugly if she stayed in her universe longer. So she left. Another different kind of pain rose through her chest.