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Spider-Man: Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire - The Watch
#1
Okay, this was inspired by Enchantress' story on Victoria (Thanks Chanty). So I thought I'd give it a whack and do a story for my Watch character, Spider-Man. I would have done it sooner, but I wanted to make sure my character actually survived before I started writing. woulda been bad if I'd already posted three chapters and then vampire Hank decapitated Peter.
*shudders*

Anyways, um to follow the rules.

Title: Spider-Man: Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire
Timeline: My Spidey Character in The Watch RPG, after the current chapter, when they all get to go home.
Rating: This is PG-13. There's violence and language, but there isn't buckets full of it, so... yeah...
Disclaimer: None of the characters used or mentioned in this story are owned by me, nor are they being used by me to make a profit. The characters used are alterations of characters from Marvel Comics, who I pray will humor a loyal fan and not sue.

I think that pretty much covers it. If I'm wrong or I missed something let me know and I'll add it in.

Okay. First chapter will come shortly.
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#2
He gazed over the concrete jungle that lay before him, soaring to the night sky above. The cities lights outshone that of the stars and the full moon, but that did not take away from serenity of the view. The black canvas was spotted with thin patches of cloud that gently rolled infront of the looming sphere that hung over the city. He could not recall a time when the stars where in such abundance, or perhaps it was that he had seen them for so long, that he forgot the sheer numbers they bore. Either way was irrelevant. What mattered was the feeling of calm, of peace, that the scene emitted, as if the landscape was saturated in that very feeling, letting it seep into his soul. And for a moment, all the troubles of the world were forgotten, and he was lost in that feeling. But the moment did not last long. He knew that such a feeling betrayed the true nature of the place he called home. He had learned first had that appearances can often be decieving, and that saying it was truest here. The gentle breeze brushed against his exposed face. His hair surrender to its current, flowing across his face, slightly obscuring his view, but he didn't mind. He was done looking at home. Now, he had to look for his friends.
The costumed vigilante tucked his mask securely into his belt and lept off the roof he had been perched on, letting gravity take over. The streets below rushed up to meet him, moving faster by the second. Yet, before it could claim him his right hand shot out and sprayed a thin line of silk. In one fluid and graceful motion his decent came to a halt and he was being launched back up into the sky. He released the webline in his grasp as he flew through the jungle that was New York. Again he fired a webline, shifting his weight onto it as it fastened to the finely polished exterior of the nearby building, increasing his speed and continuing his progress. It was a rotine that he could do blindfolded, and in a way he was. As his body worked on getting him to his destination, his mind was elsewhere, pondering what he had thought earlier.
"Friends? I called them...friends?"
His brows moved closer together as his once calm expression hardened.
"I haven't seen them in so long. Heck, I thought they were dead. I wonder how long I've been gone. Wonder if they're okay."
He paused for a moment as altered his course, shifting east and moving away from the city's heart.
"Have I taken them for granted? Have I not treated them with the respect they deserve? I always shut myself off from them, put up walls and barriers to keep them distant. I pushed them away to keep me safe, but at the same time, was I hurting them? Was I endanger of pushing them away for good?"
The towering structures had started to loose their height, falling slightly short than its predicesors that he had been swinging through earlier.
"Maybe I should be more open to them, take the walls down, let them in...especially Felicia."
His thoughts were replaced with the image of the feline. He pictured her blue eyes catching the shimmer of the stars, thinking of her silver hair glistening in the moon's rays, being caught in the wind's gentle breeze. He had missed her most of all. She had tried the hardest of them all to reach him, and in return, he had probably hurt her the most. He would have to change that.
His thoughts were replaced with a feeling of shame. A part of him felt like he was betraying the memory of Natasha with such thoughts. He had loved her with all his heart, more than anyone he had ever met. He meant everything to him. Did such thoughts make his love for her less? Did such thoughts betray his feelings for her, and the love they once shared?
He shook his head in an effort to clear it. He would deal with that later. Right now he needed to find the others. It seemed like an enternity when in reality it had probably only been a few minutes, but he had finally arrived. He landed next to the sewer cover, relying on his spider sense to let him know if he was being watched. In an instant it was opened and he was inside, crawling along the sewer walls. After what seemed like an endless series of twists and turns he finally arrived. Before lay a decrepit brick wall that looked as though in need only the slightest touch to make it crumble. He moved his hand across it, brick by brick, finally coming to rest on one of the clay rectangles. He pushed in on the brick and instantly the noises began. Clangings and whirrings were heard as the bricks began to part, revealing a thick metal door behind it. He walked up to it and looked down. In place of where the handle would be lay a control pannel. He typed in the series of numbers and, like the bricks, the door began to open.
But something was wrong. Where he had expected to hear sounds of talking and movement was silence. Where he had expected to see masses of people there was nothing. His heart began to quicken and he quickly moved to survey the base. Its walls were tattered, its furniture was broken, shattered. Gaping holes occupied the space that had once been where several doors and walls stood. A few more seconds of search showed him that the computers in the control room were either missing or destroyed beyond repair. His minutes a frantic search gave fruit to a conclusion that he did not want. They weren't here.
In a flash the hero was out of the base, rushing back to the surface. They were gone. He had to find them. They had to be alive. They had to be. In half the time he had originally taken he back at the sewage entrance he had used minutes before. The arachnid darted up the ladder, landing in a crouched position outside. He couldn't remember which came first, his spider sense or the sound of something big coming at him, but it didn't matter. Before he could gather himself he felt weight of something large smash into his side, sending him flying into a parked car that resided on the side of the street. Pain pulsed through him, his side was on fire. A blinding light moved onto him, obscuring his view from what had hit him. It was easily the height of several stories. No, not it they. His eyes widened as he slowly realized what had attacked him, and what now stood before him. Sentinels.
"X-gene detected. Mutant target identified. Proceeding with objective: Termination."
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#3
Peter swore under his breath as he tried to shake off the blow he had just recieved.
"How could I have been so stupid?! I'm not wearing my cloaking device! The moment I stepped back into my world any mutant tracking device in the country would have detected my mutant signature. They've probably been tracking me all this time."
His eyes went wide as he came to the horrid realization of what he had almost done.
"Which means that I almost lead them right to my friends."
Any further thoughts were interupted by a sharp shriek that rang in his head. Instinctively his legs propelled him away from where he lay, narrowly avoiding the force beams that were headed for him. Unfortunately, he didn't jump far enough. The spider was no longer there to hit, so something else had to fill the void, and that something happened to be the car he had been slammed into moments ago. The attack torn through the car, destroying any resemblance it once held to its former self. The arachnid was helplessly caught in the resulting explosion and sent flying.
He shook his head to clear it but he was not given the time. His spider sense screamed at him to move and he did, this time jumping further and aiming for a nearby wall. But the Sentinels were one step ahead of him. One of the three fired a blast where the spider used to be, the force of which threw off the arachnid's jump, sending him spiraling for the wall. But he never reached the wall. His course was intercepted by another blast, hitting him square in his chest. Instead of reaching the building's exterior, he went through it. Pain was searing through his body, threatening to overwhelm him. His vision was blurred, his costume nearly burnt away. The thick stench of fresh blood mixed with the scent of burnt flesh flooded his nostrils. He suddenly found himself on the ground buried in a pile of rubble, struggling to free himself. The earth around him shook as the mechanic predators moved towards their prey.
"Get up Peter! Get up! You've gone through too much crap to get home to just suddenly die. Fight damn it! Fight!"
He purged his mind of the pain the burnt away at his insides, forcing his body to ignore it, forcing himself to free himself and stand. His legs reluctantly replied, but threatened to give in any moment. The approaching tremors stopped. He couldn't see them, but he knew they were right on top of him. Their leader's emotionless voice rung out informing him of how bad his pain was.
"Intense bodily damage suffered. Three ribs on left side cracked. One on the right broken. Left arm fractured. Life signs from target detected. Continuing with objective."
His spider sense flared up once again, but this time, he did not run from them, he ran at them. He propelled himself high into the air. He already knew that he was going to get caught in the explosion of the blasts he had narrowly dodged, but instead of being taken by them, he used them to send him higher, sending him flying above the head of one of the Sentinels. As he began to decend two strands of silk fired from his wrists, connecting with the back of the monsters head. As he fell towards the ground, he dragged his opponent with him. It came crashing down on the streets below, shaking the world around him. He didn't feel it. He was already in the air, moving towards Sentinel number two, knowing that he would have long before the fallen giant recovered. Like the one before it he leapt over its robotic skull, but this time he landed behind it. A thick silver strand was spun around the monster's neck and then suddenly tightened. He pulled with all his might, finally succeeding in dislodging the head from the rest of the body. Still grasping the webline, he proceeding with swinging the head around in a circle, trying to build up speed so he could use it like a wrecking ball. He never got the chance.
The third Sentinel had calculated his movements, and retaliated by striking Peter with dual concussion blasts from its eyes. The forced knocked loose the webline from his hand and once again sent him flying into a building. The decapitated Sentinel and its removed skull plummeted onto its fallen friend, resulting in an explostion that destroyed them both. The thrid one was unphased by this. It moved towards its fallen advesary. Its sensors read its life signs, informing the Sentinel that the mutant was barely maintaining conscienceness.
The minature earthquakes moving towards him directed the spider's eyes towards his impending doom. He couldn't move, couldn't feel his legs. His whole body screamed at him in agonizing pain, overwhelming him, paralyzing him.
"Get up Peter! He's going to...to kill you! ... please...get up...GET UP!"
His pleas went unheard. His body was not responding. The towering beheamoth continued its approach.
"I'm not going...to make it. Can't...move."
The giant stopped, looking down at the crushed body before it. It aimed its left palm at the fallen spider, one which began to emit a golden glow that grew larger by the second.
"...mom...dad...I'm sorry..."
The beam was charged, the Sentinel moments away from attacking. His mind were suddenly engulfed by the piercing sound of a rupturing thunder. Before him flashed a blinding light, followed by a thick shroud of smoke and flames. And then the world went dark.
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#4
SB-I've been really busy, but just took the chance to read all this (I know you won't be home until Sunday)

GREAT JOB! I'm really enjoying it a lot! Keep it going, I'm hooked!
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#5
Thanks a lot! Glad you liked it. Here's chapter three!






He didn't know how long he had been sitting there. It felt ridiculous, even to his childish mind. Him, sitting on his bed, crying with no sign of stopping. But he couldn't help it. The tears continued to flow, and he was powerless to stop it. He could hear the door creak as it was being slowly opened, and he turned his back to it in an attempt to hide his shame.
"Hey, Peter. Your mom and I got worried when you didn't come down for dinner. Something wrong?"
His dad stood by the doorway, unsure of whether to proceed. It wasn't a hard choice as the continous sniffs and sobs coming from his son told him that there was indeed a problem.
"N-no. I'm fine."
He tried to sound brave, tried to sound tough. But his voice was cut in and out by the sobs and tears he was unable to control, and the fact that he was powerless to do so just made him cry more.
"Hey, sport. What's wrong?"
His dad moved towards him, sitting next to him on his bed. Peter continued to shield his face from his father, afraid of being judged, afraid of being seen as a disappointemnt.
"Why are you crying?"
He didn't know why. He had tried so hard to keep his tears hidden, even after his father had discovered he was crying. Maybe it was the comfort in his fathers voice, the gentle tone that still managed to maintain a sense of strength and support. Whatever the reason, in a single moment, the child dropped all its shields, all its walls, and rushed towards his father, embracing him tightly and letting all the tears flow freely.
"I don't want you to die!"
Such a grave statement shocked Richard, and the fact that his ten year old son had been the origin of such a statement only added to that feeling. His son was bawling uncontrollably and his tears were slowly collecting onto his work suit, causing it to grow damp.
"Peter. What are you talking about? Who said we're going to die?"
Peter's gaze, which had been buried into his father's chest, looked up to meet his father's eyes.
"A kid a school. He was being mean to my friend David and I told him to stop."
Peter's tears had started to cease as he told his story, his sniffs happening less and less. But that lasted for only a few seconds as his crying soon escalated as his story came to a close.
"And he told me to shut up and said that his daddy was going to kill my mutant loving parents!"
The tears were once agian flowing freely, this time faster. Richard sat silent, holding his son and digesting what he had been told. He allowed his son to cry for a while longer before speaking.
"Shh. It's okay Peter. It's okay. Dry those tears. There's no reason to cry."
Once again, the young boy found himself fixated by the soothing voice of his father, and he did as he asked.
"We're not going anywhere Peter. Your mom and I are still very young. We have a long life to live. We're going to be around for a long time."
The cascading waterfalls that had flowed down his cheeks seconds before had now died down to a gentle stream. His breathing began to slow and a sense of calm came over the young boy ashe listened closely to his father.
"Some people, Peter, they don't understand everything, and that scares them. They see something new, something different, and they don't understand what it is. And the fact that they don't know, scares them. So they pick on your friends, and they say things that hurt, not because they're mean, but because they're scared."
This new revelation that had been brought to Peter amazed him. He always thought that Jacob bullied kids because he was a mean person, not because he was scared. Richard saw the look in his son's eyes and smiled. He looked over at his right pocket and stuck his hand in, searching for something. Peter watched as his dad pulled out his rosary and handed it to him.
"Here Peter, I want you to have this. My dad gave this to me on my Confirmation. It was his rosary. I was going to wait until you were older, but I think now's a good time for you to take it."
Peter held the rosary delecately in his hands, afraid he'd damage the precious gift.
"Whenever I have a bad day, or something bad happens to me, I take out that rosary, and I pray. And when I pray, I know that God has heard my prayers, and that he's watching over me. And that knowledge makes my day better and makes all the bad things go away."
He paused and smiled at his son who was growing up right before his eyes.
"So, when you have a bad day, just pull out that rosary, and pray, and God will help you through it."
A childish smile formed on the soaked face of his son, one which in turn caused Richard to smile back.
"Now, come on. Your mom's got dinner ready and we don't want it to get cold. She made your favorite, spinach and brocoli!"
"Eew! Dad!!"
The two laughed at Richards joke and followed the delightful scent of food downstairs.



His nose twitched at its scent. He sniffed, trying to identify that familiar smell. But the importance in finding such an answer faded as new questions arose. He tried to recall what had happened. He remembered fighting, in the city. Sentinels. He was attacked. His eyes tensed and then slowly opened. The dark shroud that consumed his sight slowly melted away. Blurs of light formed before him, shapes indistinguishable started to appear. He tried to focus, tried see what was before him and watched as the different shapes molded into one large white square, with a circle in the center that was projecting light. He had seen it before, but where? He paused for a moment and then realization struck him. He was in the infirmary. He was staring at the ceiling in the infirmary.
"You're awake!"
He turned to see the owner of the voice rushing towards him. She dove at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his side. His ribs surged with pain causing him to bolt upwards and let out his own scream.
"Oh! I'm sorry! I was just so happy to see you again that I..."
The voice continued to go, but he ignored it for the moment as he tried to focus on who was talking. He could tell it was a woman from her voice and could vaguely make out a green silouhette around her body. The blur began to fade as he slowly started to recognize the young woman before him, wearing her usual green hoody and bearing the familiar white strand of hair that was now dangling across her face.
"Marie."
She smiled that smile that always seemed to be plastered across her face.
"So you do remember me? We were so worried when we found you."
Peter quickly glanced around at his surroundings. He was sitting in one of the infirmary beds. The white walls were now tainted with blotches a yellow and in some areas the walls were peeling away. The other beds were empty, always a good sign. He glanced down at himself. His shirt was removed, revealing his scarred body with bandages that wrapped around him tightly. His mask was gone as well, though it and his shirt were both repaired and lying next to the bowl of hot soup that he had smelt earlier. But what surprised him was the fact that his wounds from the battle were healed. Aside from being stiff and soar he was fine.
"How did I get here?"
Marie's tone sullened a bit as she began to tell her story to her webslinging friend.
"You've been gone for so long, we didn't know where you were. We kept looking for you, but there was no sign of you. Then last night Firestar was doing her routinely rounds, looking for other mutants and making sure we were safe. She spotted you fighting those Sentinels. She said you were hurt pretty bad but managed to take two of them out."
A hint of awe could be heard in Rogue's voice. She looked at her arachnid friend with pride but quickly continued.
"She got their just in time to destroy the third one before it could fire."
Peter let his thoughts ponder this. He thought the explosion had come from the Sentinel's blast. He thought he had died, but it must have been Firestar destroying it before it got its shot off. He turned his attention back to Rogue.
"But that still doesn't explain how I'm suddenly scratch free from that fight. I should be dead."
Marie's face sullened and Peter instantly regretted saying those words. It was obvious from the pain on her face that she had been very worried.
"Yeah...I know. But luckily, we have Vision. He's gotten pretty good at his healing techniques. That and coupled with your own healing factor was enough to save you and bring you back to full health."
Peter just nodded upon hearing this. He had dodged another bullet, barely. So many of his loved ones had died, and yet, he had managed to scrape by all this time. Time. Peter's eyes widened and looked at Marie, his voice harboring a great sense of urgency.
"Marie...how long have I been gone?"
She didn't answer. Her head lowered, hiding her eyes from his gaze. Something was wrong.
"Peter...there's something you should know..."
Her voice sounded so grave, so onimous. Something had happened while he was away, something bad.
"Peter..."
"Peter!"
His head darted upwards as a bold voice interupted that of Rogue's. Panther was standing behind her, fully clad in his costume, save for his mask which was tucked away in his belt. He wished it wasn't, for the look on Panther's face was not one of welcoming and joy. No, it was quite the opposite.
"We need to talk."
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