Chaos Revisited
Author's Notes: This story takes place in the same universe as the Purple Chaos series that I wrote a few years ago. If you haven't read it yet, you might want to go back and do so. This is an alternate universe crossover with the Lois & Clark TV series and the Marvel universe.
Disclaimers: I don't own any of the recognizable characters. However, the original characters are all mine. Please don't borrow them.
Thanks, Dave, for the beta.
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Spider-Man was not having a good day. It was 8:45 am and he'd already stopped several petty criminals on his way to work. If he was lucky, he'd just barely make it in at 9, but his usual lack of luck was asserting itself.
Two crooks, one of which happened to be a mutant, were robbing a bank. The mutant was shooting electric blue laser blasts at Spider-Man with his eyes. The other guy was firing a gun. Though it was a mundane weapon, the gun was still lethal. Spidey realized that he had to draw their line of fire away from the gathering crowd, but where?
He kept up the snappy patter, taunting the crooks as he swung from building to building. "You guys really ought to get some target practice in before you start shooting."
Soon he led them into an alley and ducked again as one of the mutant's blasts nearly fried him. Spider-Man landed on the ground and lashed out with his webbing, taking the gun away from the other guy.
"Uh uh, playing with guns is a no-no. Didn't your mother ever teach you that?"
The mutant shot at him again. Spidey leapt up, did a somersault in mid-air, and landed behind him. He punched the mutant, who doubled over in pain. The other guy tried to hit him, but Spider-Man ducked and the blow landed across the masked mutant's jaw.
"Moron," the mutant shouted at his companion. "You were supposed to hit him, not me."
"Screw you," the other guy replied. "You're the one with the super powers. Why should I have to do all the work?"
"Guys, I'd love to have a heart-to-heart chat, but I have to be somewhere in less than 15 minutes, so can we get this over with quickly?" Spider-Man replied. He punched the normal human, who went sprawling.
"Nobody asked you to show up," the mutant responded.
"Yeah well, nobody asked if I wanted spider powers either, but I've got 'em."
Spidey let some webbing loose. A few moments later, the mutant was completely covered with the sticky strands. Spider-Man also tied up the other guy. As he emerged from the alley, he caught sight of a few cops running towards him.
"Hey, web head! Wait," one of the cops shouted.
Spidey thwipped a web line and swung away. A few blocks later, he landed in another alley and quickly changed into his clothes. The only way he was going to get to work on time was by flying. Peter Parker could fly, but his alter ego couldn't. He didn't dare use his newer abilities as Spider-Man. People would wonder if there was a connection.
A few years ago, there had been a mutant terrorist organization called Purple Chaos. Their leader was a Russian named Tatiana Alexander who created a gas formula that gave ordinary people X-factors in their DNA. The terrorists attacked several cities around the world, including New York. Peter had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he'd been caught without his costume. Since he didn't have an X-factor before, the gas affected him. He'd gotten telepathy and telekinesis, which allowed him to fly.
Working with Superman, Lois Lane, and Jimmy Olsen, he'd helped to put Tatiana behind bars. But she escaped. Lex Luthor helped her in return for gaining mutant abilities, which he wanted to use to defeat Superman. His body rejected the enhancements and his DNA broke down at the end. As a result, his body died. At the last moment, Luthor transferred himself into Tatiana's mind, but that wasn't discovered until later.
The mutant managed to escape a third time, thanks to Lex's cunning. She was going to build up her terrorist organization again, but Spider-Man and Superman defeated her with the help of Jimmy Olsen, who had gotten mutant powers during one of the attacks in Metropolis. Tatiana was now in a maximum security prison designed especially for super villains.
The terrorist organization had also managed to attack the Daily Bugle building. J. Jonah Jameson had been there and was affected by the gas. He'd gotten telepathy. It was a constant effort for Peter to shield his thoughts, lest his boss pick up something about his alter ego. At least J.J.'s ability wasn't that strong.
A short time later, he landed in front of the Daily Bugle building and checked his watch. It was 9:04. He grimaced.
"Parker!" J. Jonah Jameson bellowed as Peter walked through the door. "You're late! I would think that you of all people could manage to get here on time, especially since you don't have to deal with traffic like the rest of us."
"I might be able to fly, Mr. Jameson, but I'm not Superman."
"Good thing, too. Imagine what would happen if he was late all the time. It'd be a catastrophe."
Peter rolled his eyes in response. If only you knew what I had been doing, he mused, and then clamped down on that thought before it got loose. No sense in tempting fate.
Jameson could sense the younger man shielding his thoughts, and that his shields were stronger than usual. Parker was obviously hiding something. His curiosity was definitely piqued.
His employees were wary enough of him before the telepathy, and now most of them walked on eggshells. He'd become somewhat less belligerent as a result, but it wasn't doing much to gain their trust. Being nice was not exactly in Jameson's character, but he made the effort.
Still, it seemed like no matter what he did, it wasn't enough. He'd had half a dozen people quit already, and several others were threatening to. Peter Parker, Betty Brant, Ben Urich and Robbie Robertson were the only ones who treated him like nothing significant had changed. He was secretly glad about that, but he'd never admit it to them.
"Well, as long as you're here, I've got an assignment for you," Jameson said.
"Oh?" Peter asked.
"Yeah. There's going to be a protest at city hall in half an hour. Why don't you get a few pictures and an interview or two?"
"Sure thing," Parker replied.
He went over to his desk to check his e-mail. There was one from Mary Jane, whom he'd been in touch with lately. They were on better terms lately. She was even speaking to him now. They spoke on the phone at least once a week.
Mary Jane wrote:
Peter,
I'm coming to New York on Friday afternoon. I'm staying for a few weeks. My producer wants to shoot a couple of scenes here. We should get together and have dinner or something. I'll call you when I get there. BTW, your Aunt May offered me a place to stay. I haven't decided yet whether I'll accept.
He wrote back:
Mary Jane,
Glad to hear you're coming. I'm looking forward to seeing you again. By all means, go ahead and stay with us. I'm sure Aunt May would love to have you over. I'd be happy to sleep on the couch.
Peter went through the rest of his e-mail. It was mostly work-related stuff -- nothing too thrilling. He was researching a new activist group called Mutants for Justice. It attracted many high school and college-aged mutant kids who felt that their communities were doing too little to protect their civil rights.
One of the group's members had recently been arrested for setting fire to someone's car during a protest with his powers. The kid claimed it was an accident because the car's owner had made him angry and he'd lost control. Thankfully, no one had been inside the vehicle.
He considered joining the group on an undercover basis to find out what they were up to. But his photos of the terrorists were famous and too many people recognized him lately. He'd never expected to be half as recognizable as Spider-Man.
On the bright side, he finally had his own desk at the Daily Bugle. For years, he'd been stuck with the floater desks, which were assigned to freelancers and contractors. He'd also been covering some minor news stories that had nothing to do with science. His career as a reporter was really taking off.
He logged out of his computer and stood up just as his phone rang. He grabbed it. "Daily Bugle. This is Peter Parker."
"Stay away from the protest rally today," said an anonymous male voice. He sounded vaguely familiar, but Peter couldn't quite place him.
"What? Why? Who are you?"
"Just stay away." There was a click and the phone went dead.
That was odd, but I'm not letting it stop me, especially when there might be a larger story to cover, he thought. Peter made sure that he had his camera and some extra film before leaving the newspaper office.
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