Struggle
Chapter Two: Struggle
Taylor Hebert shivered in her fitful sleep. As she did so, her mind raced, trying to piece together landmark events in her shattered memory. It was a painfully slow process, but eventually a vivid memory arose; an unwelcome one. The recollection concerned was of what had been the major event in her teenage life, back when everything had changed.
That nightmarish existence had started after her best friend had inexplicably turned on her.. As the weeks went by, Emma Barnes’ treatment of Taylor had become nastier, forming, as Emma had, a trio with Sophia Hess, and Madison Clements, the bitches of Arcadia High.
The trio’s unexplained maltreatment of Taylor had led to months of insidious harassment, with little to no intervention from the school authorities.
For a while though, the trio had backed away, seemingly content to just taunt Taylor and shove her about. Sophia, the queen bitch, had accidentally-on-purpose elbowed her in the side, or the back, or even her head a few times, just to keep Taylor from forgetting her place. Taylor though, had known that her bullies had something special planned for her.
The days rolled into one another becoming jumbled up in her mind, as the dreamscape spun around her. Her recollections skipped away from her school life to a... bank? One she was... robbing?
She dimly remembered marbled floors, pillars, and terrified people. It seemed that the hostages were terrified of her. The reason why became apparent with what dangled from her finger; a spider? And a Black Widow at that. There wasn’t just one either, or even just one type. There was a small swarm of… venomous ones.
Taylor had dreamed of being a hero when she’d triggered, but those dreams had seemed more and more farfetched, especially as one of the terrified hostages in this bank was one of her world’s best loved capes; Amy Dallon, better known to the natives of Earth Bet as the super powered healer, Panacea.
Her mind flashed with white noise and she was somewhere else. At first it wasn’t clear where. It was cold? No, it was wet. It was like she was fighting through a freezing vertical river. The rain was coming down in sheets.
Looking down she saw that she had something in her hands. What was it? A pike? A spear? No, no it had a title... the… Halberd. It wasn’t her weapon, and the name that was attached to it, evoked several contradictory feelings: Armsmaster.
That name triggered her next fragmented memory. It was the same as before… but it wasn’t; she was wading through the maelstrom towards a deluged and embattled Endbringer shelter.
In there she saw a man she held in contempt, cowering from... Leviathan; the creature that was over thirty feet tall... Was this cowering man Armsmaster? Was this the man that had such a powerful place in her memory? No, she could just about recall that this was in fact, one of her teachers. Mr. Gadfly(?)
She also knew somehow, that regardless of many other accurate descriptions that were applicable to the Halberd’s owner, many of which were less than complimentary, coward wasn’t one of them.
As the scene played out though, she had two thoughts about it. Firstly how bad must that teacher have been, that he was this memorable? Secondly, what kind of Villain shoved nano technology up Godzilla’s cousin’s ass?
Across the small moderately sanitised room, Aisha blinked as her restless friend gave out some weird kind of giggle-sob. She decided that the best thing she could do was check Taylor’s bindings. As she unwrapped the next to last bandage roll, she squeezed her friend’s hand.
Taylor sensed something beyond the dream as physical contact occurred. There was someone else near her, but it was so hard to remember her. Whoever it was though, she sensed that the two of them were… something. The information was still hard to to form and make sense of internally, and she had no idea how to communicate that... She needed the right... words? Well they helped with people. Some more than others.
Two words came to her at last, faint, as though they were etched on dark glass barely visible through murky water. A small smile appeared on the young woman’s lips. “Anchor.”
The word slipped out of her mouth, quite to the surprise of the woman guarding her, who halted, eyes narrowing, staring at her friend.
A second word escaped through Taylor’s lips: “Undersider.”
Aisha paused halfway through redressing her friend’s wounds, her lips twitching with a small smile. To no-one in particular, she said, “Thank.. well... me. Now we have a chance.”
* * *
Iron Man touched down on the cylindrical platform that extended out to meet him from the top floor office of the redesigned Stark Tower (which doubled at the headquarters of the current iteration of Avengers). The red and gold Avenger was encased in azure light as the mechanical appendages whirred to life, and began removing the advanced battle-suit (the fifth of a generation) as Tony walked across the now retracting pad into his sky-view, penthouse office.
The panelled and resilient windows extended and sealed behind him. He would once even have called them unbreakable, but had learned that lesson during the crisis of the Superhuman Registration Act.
Even though it had been irritating to fix the unbreakable window, Wolverine had deserved it. Making the comments he had about Peter’s then-wife, Mary Jane, had earned him a first class ticket: Straight out of said window. It was certainly the most unique way Luke Cage and Jessica Jones had ever seen anybody hail a cab.
If Spidey had been here reminiscing with Tony now, he’d have said that the X-Man had been knocked down a few pegs (and storeys). But then he had been there then, and Tony had ended up paying for the resultant damages (including the taxi’s).
But that would be the last time he ever called glass, even glass designed to withstand the Hulk, unbreakable.
“Jarvis” The billionaire stated aloud as he made his way over to the rear of his office (and desk).
“Yes, sir?” Came the mellowed and british butler-ly tones of a long missed family member.
“I’ll be having eggs Benedict with a glass of, hmm… what do we have?”
Tony listened as Jarvis rattled off a series of beverages that were available, but before he (the billionaire inventor) could make a decision, a sparkling glass of liquid appeared from an alcove on the wall. This was shortly followed by the far door to the office opening, and a stubby, flat-surfaced, hovering gizmo carrying a plate of scrambled eggs flew in.
“As ordered, sir.”
“Uh Jarvis,” Stark started as he sat down behind his desk with the clear sparkling drink.
“Yes, sir?”
Stark eyed the plate as it was placed before him. “That’s not eggs Benedict.”
“Yes, sir.” Came a slightly subdued response.
Stark blinked. Jarvis never ceased to amaze him. The billionaire industrialist wondered if the butler had some kind of sixth sense of its own as he ate. An artificial intelligence with that kind of foresight wasn’t outside the sphere of his experiences.
On top of that, the food had started to seem tastier, and he paused a moment as he reflected that this was what he had actually wanted anyway. Further, it seemed that he’d copied the much missed man, friend and ally close to perfectly.
It was a while later that Tony strode through the building to where the Avengers kept their equipment. He entered the secure room, and approached a sealed panel on the wall, made of the same impervious glass. Through it he saw the gauche helmet that Hank ‘Ant-Man’ Pym had first used. Then again, his own original suits hadn’t been much sleeker; Tin-Man suits Pepper had once called them.
He punched in the code and waited as the panel retracted, and the helmet was presented to him. Turning it over in his hands, taking in the decade-old technology, he marvelled at the ugly yet almost simplistic design of decades past.
His thoughts turned to his old colleague. I wish it had gone better for you old friend. But look on the bright side, at least I have the authority to override your lockouts now. And with this helmet of yours, I can start searching for this new, out of nowhere, unknown, uncontained superhuman. I don’t know how yet, but hey, I’m a genius.
His on site laboratory was situated in the centre of the building, inaccessible from anywhere but the Avengers’ headquarters. He activated a fivefold security protocol, including olfactory and body language recognition.
“Jarvis, seal lab and commence deep scan of item A3 : Cybernetic Override and Interface Logistics. Codename : C.O.I.L.”
* * *
Peter Parker stood on the ledge of the tower block, squinting hard, trying to see anything through the incessant rain that bombarded him. This unknown city was mostly shrouded by a preternatural storm, its roar almost drowning out the pitched whine of the city sirens.
He hunched forward, to keep as much water out of his eyes as possible. He tried to use his own enhanced senses to scan his surroundings, but was hindered by the nature of his arrival. He turned to his companion.
Cassandra Webb perceived Peter’s quizzical expression, but declined to answer. “Peter, brace yourself for one of the most fearful sights you will will have ever seen.”
“Wolverine the nudist?”
“You must compose yourself. It begins.” She raised an arm and pointed eastward. “Look toward the shore.”
Following her directions, he could just barely discern a structure that seemed to stand guard over the bay, shining through the oppressive darkness. Even as he focussed on it, a surging wall of water tore through the superstructure, off brick, steel and glass.
Then Peter saw it, the creature that he somehow knew was the cause of the storm. The thing was over thirty feet tall with an even longer tail. It had four green eyes, with three on the left and one on the right. And it was fast. As a group of defenders materialised, on the road nearly half a mile away,, it twisted around and charged them.
Peter watched aghast as the thing collided with the defendants, downing many of them in one move. Far too many of the costumes didn’t get back up either. He felt sick to his stomach at the sight and was turning his head away when he saw her, the rail thin girl in insectoid armour, struggling to survive. He had a flash of realisation.That was actually Skitter..
Several metres above the water a woman flew straight at the deadly creature. Noticing her immediately, the Leviathan lunged, but at the point where only a few metres of distance separated them, the thing stopped, creating a watery image that surged ahead of its ’parent’. The flying woman reacted to its arrival with a pinpoint accurate double swung, resulting in a blow that shattered the watery echo, allowing her to close for melee with the actual creature.
The collision was heralded by a thundering boom and for a split second Peter wondered if the two distant combatants had met at over MACH one. He only wondered briefly, as he braced himself for the oncoming concussive force, except it passed harmlessly through him instead
That should have hit me like a sledgehammer…? He looked for Madame Web, noticing that she hadn’t moved or been forced back in the slightest. He would have quipped at his own expense at his mistake, but there was nothing remotely funny here.
As he gritted his teeth, he tried to remember any situation he’d been in that held a candle to this experience. They were few enough for him to be grateful.
As he continued watching, a seven foot tall woman with pale hair, and a translucent horn protruding from her forehead, hurled something blue at her enemy, doing some damage.
Peter looked over the battleground, hoping that this slaughter had been the end of it, but part of him, knew better.
A whooshing sound of displaced water loud enough to be heard through the storm made him look back at the creature. It was now fighting a forty foot tall armoured form, that having touched down was firing several weapons, whilst simultaneously grappling its target. The woman that he’d seen fly straight into the creature was staggering upright in the water.
Peter’s face hardened.“Madame, remove the restraints, and send me in!”
“You can do nothing here Peter, it has all already happened. You know this!”
Peter Sagged. “I’ve seen enough. I’m just glad they could stop that thing in the end.
Cassandra Webb shook her head slowly. “They did not win. They survived, if barely. The memories are fragmented, but I know enough to tell you that over a quarter of the defenders died in this battle, before the creature retreated.”
“I’ll take knowing it was driven off, even temporarily, as a victory.”
“And now Peter, you know one of the hard truths this blighted world endured. And know this, it was far from the worst.”
A flash of light punctuated the remark as the giant assault robot, or whatever it was, doused the creature in plasma,before adding its own self-destruction to the faltering defense.
“Madame - Cassandra. If we can’t help, let us leave, now.” All Peter could think of was that wanted to be back where he could make a difference, whether it was NYC, or down there joining the assembled capes in their struggle.
Madame Web nodded sagely.“Yes, you’ve seen what you needed to, it is time for you to go Peter. But know this, during all this I have uncovered something far more frightening.” Cassandra Webb nodded, mostly to herself. “That creature and its siblings were recruited by the girl you met.”
Peter sighed. He really wished people would remember how smart he was alongside his other gifts. Even whilst he was absorbing the new information about this ’Skitter’ he was concerned about why Madame Webb had said ‘you to go’ rather than ‘us’.
Turning to her he asked the loaded question, “So, when do we leave?”
Cassandra smiled sadly, “My place now is to depart this mortal coil and take as much of Khepri with me as possible. I cannot keep her from overwhelming me much longer.”
“Doctor Strange-” Peter began.
“Would use many spells, most of which would have an unconscionably high risk of freeing what I now contain.”
“But-”
“Goodbye Spider-Man. Whatever else you do, find Skitter. And should she appear, stop Khepri at all costs.” Madame Webb’s voice was fading now along with the backdrop of this blighted city,
* * *
Spider-Man’s eyes refocused as he readjusted to his original surroundings, including the glow of the late afternoon sun, and the New York skyline beyond.
“How long did that vision take? It must’ve been a few hours at least… It must be at around five now?” He waited a moment, letting out a groan as he rose and then cursed as he spotted the lifeless form of the elderly Cassandra Webb sprawled on the floor.
“Madame Web!” Spider-Man rushed over to her side, dropping to his knee. He pressed two fingers to her neck searching for a pulse. “Nothing,” he said aloud, “I need assistance. Hold on Madame Web!”
He carefully shifted Cassandra into the recovery position and reached for his cell phone.
*
“Sir, incoming call from a Mister Spider-Man.”
Tony Stark looked up from his work table, blinking as he realised exactly how many components he had laid out in front of him,
“He seems quite flustered, sir. Should I take it?”
“Patch the call through Jarvis.” There were several beeps as Jarvis connected him and the familiar voice of Spider-Man cae through
“Stark! I need medical assistant, now, right now!”
“Hold on Spidey, what’s going on?”
“Madame Web! She’s unconscious… she needs help.”
“Alright, I hear you. Help’s on the way.” Stark could also hear Peter’s voice relax a little as he thanked him; and he closed the call. “Jarvis, send a S.H.I.E.L.D. unit.”
“Not that nice man, Mister Agent Coulson, sir?”
“No, a Stasis Hibernation Intensive Evacuation Life Defense unit,” he paused, “and please always call him Agent, he doesn’t have a name.”
There was a moment of silence from the A.I. butler, “I don’t think Miss Potts would appr-”
“Jarvis,” Stark started, “send the suit.”
“Already done, sir. But may I suggest a new name for them?”
“No,” he said calmly, “no, you may not.” Stark smiled; getting those initials to work had been challenging but the look on Agent’s face had been priceless. Though he got the impression from Agent that Nick Fury didn’t appreciate it. Father or son.
* * *
Taylor Hebert sat up. As she did so she smiled for the first time in a long time. There was a well built and toned (and beautiful) black girl looming over her though, and Taylor couldn’t tell whether she should be afraid or relieved.
Aisha saw the reaction and took a step back, hands held up placatingly. “Don’t worry boss, we’re together.”
Taylor’s eyes went wide and Aisha chuckled, an impish grin forming on her face. “Naw, not like that! Although two of our team mates definitely are, and I can vouch for it, though I really wish I couldn’t.”
“I know you…” Taylor blinked, looking at Imp closely, “you’re my… mother?”
Aisha pointedly indicated herself, and then Taylor. “Not unless we went through seriously weird adoption proceedings.” Aisha’s smile disappeared as she recalled how bad Brockton Bay’s adoption services had actually been.
“You’re right.” Taylor said, beginning to feel more comfortable around her trashy-dressed black ‘friend’.
“I wish I hadn’t said that now,” Aisha muttered. “Not something I really wanted to remember.”
“The adoptions were… bad?” Taylor looked inquisitive and Aisha winced.
“Bad? Girl, they were so damn bad that someone we know triggered; and all because of them. Those adoption services really fucked her over. She prefers the streets,” she paused, “and her pack.”
Taylor blinked and her eyes widened at another freshly recovered memory. “I remember her…” Taylor smiled slightly smug. “She set one of those dogs on me… so I kicked her in the face.”
“Yup, the beginnings of a beautiful friendship.” Aisha motioned with her hands.
“Her name was… Rachel Bitch?”
“Close enough, I guess.” Aisha frowned, and then smiled. “Hey! You’re really coming round, huh?”
Taylor concentrated. It was progress, and she could feel it, but her memory was still difficult, and it felt like millions of voices were trying to climb inside her head all at once. Then she saw it: A spike of memory, so vivid and emotional; one that had scarred her, and changed her life forever.
Taylor cried out, as she found herself stuffed into her locker at Wilmslow High. She’d been shoved, and pummeled, and jammed into its tight, metal, confines. It was filled with objects reeking of stale female menstruation, and worse. Taylor had pleaded with her tormentors to let her out, to no avail. The tears rolled down her cheek realising as she screamed and banged on the locker door, choking from the stench, that it was no use. Those fucking bitches had gone. They’d won and Taylor was trapped here. Alone.
She struggled with her breathing, choking as she did on the foul odours that permeated the claustrophobic space. She began to panic as her mind raced, banging on the locker door. There was no one. No one was going to come.
As Taylor fainted away, being laid gently down, she missed Aisha’s own exhausted comment. “At least her memory’s coming back.”