Chapter Text
Issue 1 Denial
I watched the police clean up the crime scene in the street below. This had turned into another cold night on a rooftop where I mulled over the mess my life had become. I sighed in frustration.
Girls. It always came back to them. MJ- Mary Jane Watson, the love of my life, my only confidant and best friend didn't listen to me and couldn't keep herself out of harms way. We'd broken up cause she didn't have powers and couldn't do what I could do. I'd had to end us before my secret life ended her. It was the responsible thing to do. That's me. Mr Responsible.
That brought me to Black Cat AKA Felicia Hardy AKA smoking hot babe in revealing cat suit that made all my spider senses tingle. I should have known better than to side with Black Cat. Of course she'd betray me. It was in her nature. Cats are fickle creatures after all. She'd joined Hammerhead and Electra without a seconds thought about right or wrong, solely because they were competitors of the Kingpin. Shang Chi, Iron Fist and Moon Knight… They could have been killed. Hell, Moon Knight was injured in the mayhem. Then she switched sides again. (Ultimate Spider Man #85)
It turned out alright but that didn't make me any less angry. My fist clenched. I should web her up and leave her for the cops. Why don't I!? Because I have a crush? This is stupid. But here we are.
Angry and disappointed I turned about to leave. "Hey!" Felicia said as she easily somersaulted and alighted catlike in front of me, blocking my way.
"Jeez!" I said, thanking god my mask lenses prevented Felicia from seeing me stare at her revealing costume. It's hard to look anywhere else. Did I mention I had a crush?
"Do you really think I'm pretty?" She asked demurely.
"Well, yeah," I admitted awkwardly, averting my eyes, blood rushing to my head, the mask hiding my blush. God. I felt every one of my fifteen years at the moment. Um... Pi, to ten decimal places. Er, 3.14… dammit spandex can't hide what I'm thinking about.
Cat smiled winningly. "Well, see, I didn't know."
"Yes, you did," I said, amused and nervous. Why did this feel like a game of cat and mouse. Probably cause it was.
Black Cat moved distractingly forwards. "You still mad at me?"
I tried to remember why I should be mad at her. It was hard. "Yes." I backed into a chimney as I tried to maintain my personal space. "Oof."
"Where are you going now?" She asked with keen interest.
"Uh... home." I said. To bed. That was the wrong thing to think about.
"Can I come with you?" She suggested, pressing into me, bedroom eyes way too enticing. She was warm and very soft, just like I'd imagined. Bad imagination. Down boy.
I felt my mouth go dry. "Uh..."
"Can I?" She moved against me slowly and it grew harder to think.
"No." I squeaked.
"Do you want to kiss me?" She pressed.
Oh my god... I floundered. "Little bit." I can't move. Like a deer in headlights.
"Let's do it." Felicia decided.
I frowned hesitantly, mind racing as I tried to figure out where this was leading. "What?"
"Right here right now. Kiss me." She whispered huskily.
I tried to respond but words failed me. Oh my God...
"I think about this all the time... what's under this mask. Who this mystery man in my life really is? I want to see you. I want to kiss you. I'm ready." Her breath was warm on my mask. Her lips loomed, begging to be kissed.
Oh my god. I was trapped. Those headlight were on high beam and I was trapped in them.
"Right now. I want to unwrap my mystery present." Her dangerously clawed gloves were gently at my throat, at the join between my mask and suit, pushing the mask up, exposing my neck.
Stop her. She's - she's unmasking you. Stop it. Well... she's oh my God. My feet are missing.
"I'm going to do it, Spider-Man... I'm going to take off this mask and I'm going to kiss you." She purred.
This is - no! This is - I felt air first on my chin, then progressively on my lips, my nose and my brow as she slid my mask up. Revealing me completely. Unmasked. I looked up at her and smiled. I closed my eyes, puckered up and moved forward for the promised kiss.
I kissed open air. "I thought you were you're just a little... how how old are you?" She asked in a thin, shocked voice. "Bluuaaggh!!"
I opened my eyes in shock, something warm and wet hitting my belly and dripping down. I stared down. She'd thrown up on me. She looked at me, her surprise clear, as though she'd been doused in icy water.
"Sorry... fur ball." She muttered as she turned and fled. I watched her go feeling decidedly stupid and dejected. This was just so frustrating and confusing. So... typical. The old Parker luck. What had I been thinking.
My vision swam as the rooftop faded.
"She's coming out of it..." a voice noted.
I shook off the encounter with Felicia. Was that a dream? No. It was a recent memory. It happened just moments ago. I was certain… the confusion… sexual excitement… embarrassment… and that overwhelming tension… Yeah, that was moments ago… but no vomit now. Still, that was a total crash and burn. How typical. What a fool I am! Thinking with little spidey. Thank God no one saw it. I'd never live it down. But... why am I waking up? How the hell did I get here? I looked up at the guy, vision swimming. She's coming out of it? Yeah. Me too. I thought absently. Something is very wrong. I feel weak. Frail. Not my self. Who are these people and what are they doing to me? Where the heck is my costume? My face is still exposed. I just took my mask off I know but now I'm in bed. I lay prone, handcuffed securely to a gurney with I.V. tubes running into veins, other things monitoring vitals and a catheter pressing uncomfortably below the waist. That felt disturbing. Beside the bed sat a machine that went PING.
My eyes searched then locked on … something. I stared uncomprehendingly at the contours outlined by the bed sheets. I'd just been admiring Felicia's generously filled costume. Those didn't looked nearly as ample but from my perspective they were mountains. Holy crap! Fear kicke in, the disorientation of waking retreating. Unmasking tends to do that. As does an out of body experience like this one.
Black Cat… We'd been together moments ago, I'm completely certain. How did I get here in this body that was clearly not mine?
I searched about for answers. Rows of bright fluorescent lighting stabbed into my eyes. The room was of solid reinforced construction. An institutional building. Beyond the grinning man stood shadowy figures dressed in surgical hazmat suits. Standard issue rent a goons. Most had large machine guns aimed at their patient. Their prisoner. Me. Damnit. The old Parker luck never fails me. I don't get it.
"Hi. My name is Ben Reilly. If that name sounds vaguely familiar it's because I was Doctor Curt Connors' assistant a few months ago." He explained.
I followed his words despite all the guns. Curt recently played god with my blood sample and created that crazy red symbiote that killed Gwen. This guy helped do that? Great. A mad scientist's assistant. He's a bloody Renfield... What could possibly go wrong? I went to respond with an inane quip but a weird high pitched mewling noise came out instead. It sounded absurdly childish. My larynx throbbed with dull pain.
"Don't worry about trying to talk. You can't yet. You were brought into this world just a week ago. Your body hasn't fully adjusted to its— how can I explain it? Your body is still forming. You've been heavily sedated so as to not hurt yourself."
A week?! Still forming...? He's lying. Has to be. But they definitely have me sedated. Bastard. It's not for my good. You're worried about me hurting you. But… What are you doing to me? How...
"I know in your mind, you're a little freaked out and confused right now... but don't worry about that either." Renfield advised. "Okay, in your head you remember yourself as Peter Parker, Spider Man... But you're not him. In fact you're not even a him. You're a her. A biological replica of him, created by me and my team. You're in an R and D facility for the Central Intelligence Agency."
I was suddenly preoccupied with the effort of wringing Renfield's lousy neck. So weak! Drugged. That's what he said. Must also be hallucinating. Temporal, auditory and visual. Yeah that's it. The guys with guns tightened their grips sending my spider sense tingling. Well that's … not good. My spider sense tells me they're a real threat. So I am their prisoner. That much is real. Weak and panting with effort my hands dropped feebly to the sheets. My hands look and feel small. Feminine. Matching my perception of my chest. What have they drugged me with?
"You're safe and okay." Ben reassured the figure in the bed.
I shook my head. You know Renfield you need to work on your bedside manner 'cause everything you just said left me feel decidedly unsafe and unokay. I snorted in disgust, hands moving up to test the curves I saw on my chest, then going rigid at what they found. Oh no. Oh no! No, no, no, no! He can't be telling the truth. They can't have given me girl parts!? This is just some kind of weird psychedelic brainwashing experiment. My mind raced. It looks and feels real but it ain't.
"You're phase five of the project actually. The goal was to process a clone of Peter Parker. Why him? Because well, because of his spider powers. And in your case we did a little chromosomal manipulation and you were born a girl. And you are a rousing success. You're the best one so far. We're really this is very, very exciting."
A little chromosomal what? Sheesh! I've dealt with crazy before but this is like, meta crazy. This fruit loop thinks I'll believe I'm a clone? A female clone!!? No. Black Cat must have slipped me a Mickey. I knew I shouldn't have trusted her. But when did she get goons? No. I must have been captured by someone with mind powers. Or maybe this was hypnotism. A pink brain slug?
What was that line? I doubt my senses because a little thing affects them. A slight disorder of the stomach makes them cheats. You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are! I snorted.
"Now, the good news, as confusing as it is to have the memories and sense memories of a boy when you are a girl and the memories of someone you're not... don't worry. We have a psych team coming in very soon and you'll be stripped of all those memories and we'll have all new ones implanted in you in no time. In fact, by then you won't even remember having this conversation, the fact that you're a clone or any of this."
That's a horrible thought. Good thing this is all in my head or I'd be getting worried. I considered. Cause if this is real then my life just jumped the shark. Heck if this is real it isn't even my life. I shuddered. If, just for a moment we assume this is real I need to get my Xeroxed mind around it. Phase five... so... Five clones of me? No. Not of me. Of him. Peter Parker. No that is me… can't buy into this mixed up head game. But supposing it's real. That made six. Hah! One more and we'd have a soccer team... Yeah this has to be some kind of bad head trip... there's no other explanation. God I'm exhausted.
"But we need to run some psych evaluation tests on you before we go to the next step, and that includes telling you this and observing how you react to it. And your next life, if you choose to accept it, is going to be just as exciting as being Spider Man You'll be a special agent for the Central Intelligence Agency. Cool huh?" He asked.
Cool? Yeah until I come down from whatever horse sized pills I'm tripping on I'm going to be wrecked… I yawned, blinking asleep for a moment.
"Let's see what they have for you... you'll be special agent Jessica Drew. Pretty name. You'll be an agent of the CIA. Codename: Spider Woman. Ugh. Not very original. I'll try to have them change it for you," Renfield offered.
I sighed nervously. If this is a hallucination then it's really complicated. My subconscious has this all figured out... now did I ever want to be a girl? Uh uh. No. Must be mind control. Jean? Jean Grey? This isn't funny… so… tired.
"So how did this all happen? Well if you remember... when you, and by you I mean Peter Parker, were friends with Curt Connors, he stole a sample of your blood... and, you'll remember, he accidentally incubated a clone prototype that became that horrible monster that wreaked such carnage on my college campus. And killed your friend Gwen Stacy. Well I helped him. Clearly that was not the plan. We didn't want to hurt anyone. We wanted to helpu people. But what happened. And then..." He kept talking but I didn't hear cause I'm pretty sure I fell asleep.
Or woke up. I found myself male again, in my spidey costume, web swinging back home. But it was a strange sensation. A bit like I'm not exactly in control, yet I am. I remember Renfield's little speech like it just happened. I'm male again and swinging back from my failed encounter with Felicia. That's good. So what was that thing with Renfield? As I'm trying to figure that out I found a water tap on a roof and did my best to clean the mess on my suit. The mess from when Black Cat barfed all over me. I can't believe she threw up on me. Jeez. I'm not that unattractive am I? I suppose I could be a bit young for her though. That I conceded. But MJ and I just broke up and Black Cat could look after herself. That was probably the only thing she had going for her. Oh and she was drop dead gorgeous. In retrospect though unmasking was a bad idea. Hormones over ruled my good sense. Black Cat isn't a good person. Not someone I need in my life. Not a girl I could take home to meet Aunt May.
Fur ball? Damn!
I finished cleaning and swung away. Soon I was at my bag webbed to the base strut of a rooftop water tower. I took my bag and swung back to the lane near my home in Queens. Quickly I removed my mask and put my normal street clothes back on over my suit. Everything on my body was exactly where it should be. Everything was right. I went to confirm with my hands but I couldn't. Huh. Weird. It is like I'm a passenger?
Maybe I was drugged. Or maybe it was some kind of weird dissociative identity disorder thing? God that's a horrible thought, all this running around in a mask is causing me to have split personality disorder. No. It's something else… but what?
Hang on. Here come those embarrassing memories of Black Cat. A sense of regret and chagrin associated with the failed kiss. "Ow." I muttered with a hang dog expression as I opened the front door, only to be confronted by Aunt May. "Hi Aunt M "
"Did you skip school again today?" May accused. The silence hung thickly as the tension grew. I felt guilty as heck. "I won't live in a house of lies. If I have to speak to you again about this I'm kicking you out. Can I be any more clear?"
I slunk upstairs to my bedroom, stripped off my clothes and vomit stained suit, stuffed them in the hamper and climbed into bed. I curled up under my covers.
Worry and angst about women and superheroing plagued me. Would Felicia figure out who I really was? Would she use that knowledge to get at the Kingpin? She had made noises about going straight but she was fickle as a cat. What had gone wrong…? Obviously it was the age difference. Would she even speak to me again? How would MJ feel if she found out? Betrayed. No we'D broken up. Still I felt guilty. Like I'd cheated. And then there was Aunt May. She didn't deserve this stress but I had been doing the right thing stopping Hammerhead even though Fisk benefited.
Yeah this is normal. So what was that weird delusion about being a woman? I observed detachedly. And why this weird sensation of being a passenger in my own body? I tried to click my fingers. Nothing.
I buried my face in my pillow, tossing and turning as I wrestled with my thoughts. My mistakes. It took a while for me to nod off.
And then I was back with Black Cat on the roof top. Again. Oh God. Is this delusion ever going to end? I feel like I'm stuck in that film Groundhog Day. But I still felt more like a passenger than a participant. Is my brain stuck on repeat? Huh. Come to think of it this all looks a little different. No smells. Sounds odd too.
The moon was full and much larger and bright. The stars glimmered oddly and there were no familiar constellations. Just random pinpricks in the black curtain of night. The cityscape was more an impression. Like the backdrop of a play. I intuited it more than saw it. The colours were dark but oddly vivid. Like something Van Gogh might paint. Spidey Night…
I stared at her costume again. It seemed more revealing. More erotic. My gaze focused. Well those are the same. But my interest seemed a little … too much. Like the colours it was vivid and overly intense. I have a bad feeling about this.
Hey. Stop. We both know how this ends... it's a train wreck pal. Stop. Abort! I tried to tell myself. But this vignette had its own script apparently.
Again I went to kiss her but this time she was in my arms, kissing me back passionately, her full curves pressing against my body. Those curves. Wow. Then I was unmasked and somehow we had our skin tight costumes off. Not sure how that happened… Hot skin against skin. Then... she wanted it. I wasn't scared or uncertain or anything. I wanted it too. This time we got it.
Oh God! Do. I. Get. A. Say. In. This?
I awoke on the gurney, for a moment half on that weird sordid rooftop, half in the complex. Then the sense of being on that surreal roof faded. The rows of fluorescent night lights were on. The place was quiet and still. I was sweating and breathing heavily with excitement. I was really excited. And it felt really, really different. It's hard to explain. And it was confusing as hell. Worst of all there was something between my legs, something sticky. Oh God! I berated myself as I panted with what I can only describe as arousal. My hands were between my legs. But there was nothing else there. Okay Pete. Back to the delusion of being a female prisoner… it's gotta be. So aroused though. Like a wet dream… the only pro was that I didn't feel like a passenger now. My thoughts are all mine despite my excitement. This is not some weirdly surreal voyeuristic erotic vision.
That was… just wow… intense!
"Jessica? Are you okay? Your vitals just spiked." Ben called over an intercom as he worked the security door to open it. "Must have been something from the Prime."
"Mfwine..." I responded with some difficulty, still weak and sweating from the Uber extreme experience. My mumbling voice sounded high, breathy, feminine. What just happened?! Urgently I tried to remove my hands but they were stuck fast. Webbed to be precise. That was the sticky sensation. God. I feel like I'm hopped on drugs. Viagra…? Pulse racing… holy crap.
And… Wait! I'm not wearing my web shooters. Am I? How? I wriggled my fingers. Things feel all wrong down there. But clearly I've just webbed my hands to myself without web shooters. Huh. That explains why I can't feel things properly. Webbing. And my fingers tingle slightly. Did the webbing just come from my fingers? Organic webs? Not possible. Still, better it came from my finger tips than my… abdomen... cause… if it's not there…
"Are you okay Jessica?" Ben asked, pausing to check the patients vitals. I seemed back to normal.
"Mwuh Huh." I responded in the positive. Don't come in! Oh man. Don't come in. This is embarrassing enough without you looking. This webbing better dissolve soon because I'm not strong enough to break free. I just lay there exhausted as I calmed down. Wow.
"Alright then." Ben replied, going back to his monitors. "I should tell you we intend to have you awake when Peter is asleep. There is a good reason for unsynching your respective sleeping patterns. If we don't then… well the dreams are much too intense as you now know. And the side affects are… bad," he trailed off.
I flushed in embarrassment and relief. Yeah I don't want more of these acid dreams. I shuddered. Jeez. Puberty is difficult enough. But hyper immersive drug flipped dreams? That was a sensory and emotive overload. Like I was there with everything dialled up to the max. Hell it still feels a bit like I'm there now. But whatever they're doing to me makes it feel like I'm in the wrong body right now. Ew! This is too much! God damned puberty blues! I don't need this. As if life wasn't complicated enough.
"We're getting it under control for you. The first clone has some significant mental issues because we didn't realise soon enough. Some… unhealthy denial issues. Couldn't accept hisnew reality.". Ben explained. "We tried to fix it but that attempt on the second clone led to progeria. We think we can solve the problem with a mind wipe. You know what they say. You can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs, right? As Peter is very active your waking hours aren't overly constrained. We just monitor him and keep you clones awake when he sleeps. Better that than the alternative. Stay awake. I'll tell you when you can go to sleep."
Monitor? What? I felt overwhelmed and helpless but also violated. They knew when I slept. Peter slept? No. I wasPeter.. This guy was an utter ass hat but I don't want any more of those dreams. Damnit, that dream was completely overwhelming. What if I had a nightmare? I blinked tears back and stared at the cameras monitoring the room. I should be thankful for the sheets at least. Can't show what I'm feeling. I lay there, struggling to keep my eyes open, to not fall asleep, hands webbed the whole time. I struggled but ended up nodding off.
Again I was looking at the impressionistic cityscape, reflected in the river. The Queensboro Bridge? Oh hell no! Not this dream. I know this dream! It's cast always gets bigger! I crouched atop the bridge. Dreading what was about to happen. The bridge Seemed taller. Unbelievably tall. I looked about in dread.
There he was. The Green Goblin, circling menacingly about me in the air like some predatory shark. Flaming eyes flickering crazy colours, mouth all sharp teeth, horns immeasurably long and sharp. Palpable burning hate, insanity and evil. I knew terror. Raw, instinctive, primal, unreasoning fear. This was the dream made real. Too real. I felt so small compared to his huge sickly green bulk. Flames danced about his balled fists.
The monster held Mary Jane on his shoulder as she struggled, laughing like a madman. "No!" I cried as he dropped her. I leaped. Falling as she fell. Just out of reach. I tried to use my webbing. My shooters were empty. It was just like a bad dream but too real. Everything in slow motion. Dive. Faster. Faster. Not fast enough. Too slow to catch her. I almost had her. But she was just out of reach. "No. No. No. it's my fault…"
"Peter!!! You promised you'd keep me safe. You lied." There was horror and fear in her eyes. But also hatred.
"MJ! No." She was going to die and it was all because of me. Oh god.
She hit the water like it was concrete. There was a sickening crunch of bone. I grabbed her lifeless body. Pulled her close. Cold. Lifeless. Gone. She'd died hating me. I felt crushed by loss and regret. Guilt.
"No! I'm sorry! This is all my fault…" I hugged her, buried my face in her mass of floating red hair. I wanted forgiveness but didn't deserve it. Then something touched my leg. I looked up. Floating there beside me was the desiccated corpse of Gwen Stacy. It pointed a bony finger at me. "Gwen?" I asked. How can I talk underwater?
"Peter… this is your fault." Lifeless eyes stared at me accusingly. "Your lies killed me!"
The truth of her words cut into me. God. I'm drowning in the weight of this emotion. This guilt. My lies.
Beyond her floated Uncle Ben. Shot. Dead. Because of me.. "You failed me Pete. It's your fault. Your life is an empty lie!"
I nodded. But Uncle Ben. I'm trying to live up to your expectations. Trying to make it right. I'm sorry. I…
"You killed her. Everything you touch dies. You're an imposter. You're no hero." Gwen's dad rasped, his bomb mangled visage a horror to behold. The water was red with blood. "Liar!"
That wasn't me. I didn't.. I… oh god. It's too much. Help me! Someone! Please. Help.
"Get out!" Aunt May said in hurt rage, looking down upon me from the bridge above, the water distorting her, making her bigger. Her disappointment and grief were huge and palpable. "Go live in your house of lies. Get out!" Behind her the flaming insanity circled, inexorably approaching in a mad spiral of doom. She was going to die too. Because of me.
Aunt May. Please. I only ever wanted to protect you.
With a wrenching sob I awoke. I lay there. Unable to think. Tears in my eyes. Oh God. Too intense! I… why…
"Told you. Don't nod off." Ben said.
I nodded and let the guilt coil about in my mind. It was because of my lies. The dream. That hadn't been my dream. I understood now. I couldn't afford to lie to myself.. No. More. Lies. I thought to myself. I lay there. I have too many regrets. I've lied too and hurt too many people. God. This is real. The intensity of that dream… god. I shuddered. I have to face the truth. No more lies then. Not to myself. I'm not Peter Parker… not the original at least. Who am I? I lay there, reviewing things over and over. Hands still webbed. There was no escaping the truth. God. I'm spinning around in circles. You bastards! Who am I? Frustrated anger replaced denial.
"Okay. Peter is up. You can go to sleep Jessica ." Ben finally said.
Like Hell I'm Jessica. I'm… Peter? Aargh! In my exhausted state it didn't take long for me to nod off. Mercifully there were no more dreams.