Chapter Text
Knight of the Moon Part 1
Sirens wailed across the night as Jason sprinted from an abandoned building through the dark city of New York. He couldn't stop for anything, not for his partners that he left for the web-head to deal with, and definitely not to catch his breath. If he knew one thing about the wall-crawler, it was that regular stiff like him and his partners were no sweat for the hero. Slowly, the sirens decreased in volume, leaving the normal buzz of New York to fill Jason's ears. He made it! He escaped Spider-Man!
WHOOSH!
A long chord with something heavy, and sharp, on the ends wrapped around Jason's legs, causing him to trip into the hard asphalt. His legs and mouth screamed out in agony as he looked up to see a tall, bulky figure dressed in white robes and clothes, wearing a white mask that covered his face. Jason only managed a short cry of terror as the figure's fist moved with blinding speed toward his face.
Outside the abandoned building, Captain Stacy had it surrounded by him and a platoon of New York's finest. They had gotten an anonymous tip (probably from a competitor, but one problem at a time) that some Goblin tech was being sold. Considering what one man with that tech did to his city, Captain Stacy had rallied his troops in twenty minutes to surround the place. They could hear the sound of fighting and see the light of a fire inside the building; leaving Captain Stacy under the safe assumption that Spider-Man had beat them to the building. That was the only thing holding Stacy from entering the building.
"Seems like the Web-Head is already taking care of things," Agent DeWolff said, with her gun trained on the exit to the building in case the fighting should escalate. The sounds of pain and terrified screams echoing from the building did nothing to soothe her nerves. "He's really embraced a new way hasn't he?"
"About time if you ask me," replied Sgt. Carter. He stood next to DeWolff but didn't have his gun drawn like his partner. "I haven't even heard a single joke come from there, and you know that Spidey's not in the mood when he finally shuts his yapper. Maybe he realized he could get things done faster if he took off the gloves."
"Can it, both of you," Captain Stacy said. He was at his wit's end with these 'discussions' his two subordinates had about Spider-Man, and now was not the time for them. Besides, their opinions regarding the hero made the captain uncomfortable; what if the masked hero actually did anything Carter or DeWolff were suggesting? Captain Stacy knew he wouldn't be the only one disappointed if that happened.
"Hey, stop–"
Captain Stacy groaned and turned around to find a journalist in front of him with a microphone placed just below his chin.
"Ned Leeds, the Daily Bugle," said the reporter. "Could you tell us what's going on here?"
"Cooper!" Captain Stacy yelled. A girl in standard cop blues, with brunette hair tied into a bun and glasses, came running behind the unwanted visitor.
"Sorry boss," the girl panted, "he's really fast." The rookie grabbed Ned and led him away from the police barricade.
"How did she make it onto the force again?" Carter whispered to his partner.
DeWolff scowled. "Daddy," she spat.
BOOM!
The explosion in the warehouse brought everyone back to reality.
"Aw man," an exasperated voice called out. "I forgot my marshmallows at home."
"Spider-Man!" was the reaction of nearly everyone on the scene.
"OH MY GOD! It's Spider-Man!" screamed Carli Cooper, who shrank and blushed under the gaze of her fellow officers.
"Wait," Captain Stacy said, his eyes flickering back to the burning building. "Who is that in the warehouse?"
Alarm bells went off in Spidey's head, and leaped towards the warehouse and swung in. However, while in mid-air, he saw a crook be flung out of the top window. Instantly, Spidey tried to reverse his momentum, but before he could send out a web to secure the man, the glint of a chain caught his eye. The crook slammed into the wall and let out a cry of pain.
Spidey's gaze fell on the chain wrapped around the crook, hanging on the end of it, with a little blood splattered on the edges, was a hook. No, not a hook. Is that…a crescent? Spidey shook his head and leaped toward the injured crook. "Don't worry, I'll get you down from–"
Alarm bells rang again in Spidey's head, but there was nothing he could do to avoid the foot that connected with his back, sending him back to the ground. Spidey quickly recovered from his fall and flipped to his feet, ready to fight, but there was no one in front of him.
"Stay out of our way," the masked man called out to Spidey before he vanished behind a cloud of smoke.
"Wait, I thought that only worked in cartoons?" Spidey quipped, then his phone alarm went off. "Crap! I gotta get home!"
As Spider-Man thwipped away, everyone behind the barricade stood in awe and surprise of the newcomer that had disappeared. "Another hero?" Ned asked, speaking to himself. "Jonah's not gonna like this."
Ugh, each time I catch a criminal, two more take their place. Since Silvermane, Ock, and most of the super-powered crazies are locked up, everyone has been trying to be the new Kingpin of Crime. Especially since if Tombstone so much as hurts a fly he'll be joining them, and Gobby…well…
Peter rolled over in his bed and stared at the ceiling. Guilt had now taken over his mind. Guilt about the death of his best friend Harry's dad, Norman Osborn, the Green Goblin. He'd had what can only be classified as a knock-down-drag-out-fight with the man that ultimately ended with the Goblin crashing into one of his own explosive traps. He remembered it every time he set eyes on his best friend, the guilt consumed him every time they talked. And as such, he found himself unable to be there for his friend, and by extension, be with Gwen.
Gwen, Peter thought, as he placed his palms in his eyes as he cringed. Gwen tells me she loves me, I say the same, we plan to get together, and it all goes to hell. Not to mention I could've ended things better with Liz. It's not like I can be mad at either of them though, Harry needs all the support he can get, and Liz has every right to be pissed with me. Plus, now I have to deal with this new masked crazy. I know I shouldn't assume, but with my track record with costumed crazies, he's out to be the New Goblin.
For about a week, this had been Peter's routine. Class, work, Spider-Man, then back to his room where his doubts rested in wait for the most inopportune moment to speak with him. Peter rolled over, hugging his blankets to form an invitingly warm cocoon around himself, and he stared at the picture of himself at the age of twelve with Uncle Ben's arm lovingly wrapped around him. "What should I do Uncle Ben?"
Harry was starting to get a headache. It started out small, but steadily grew over the nine days since his father's death, and all the mess with the family company had only made it explode to new heights. His mother wasn't medically cleared to be leading the company, and Donald Mencken had seemingly disappeared after the Goblin. Coward. Mencken couldn't even face Harry and his family after aiding Spider-Man in killing his father.
Spider-Man, the words brought a sour taste to Harry's mouth. The hero that he'd once looked up to, the hero who had looked the other way when he found Harry addicted to the Green, just killed his father. Another victim of the Green! He should've tried to help him!
All Harry wanted to do was rip the mask off the murderer and look him in the eyes as he was taken to prison. But to do that, he needed resources, resources that he didn't have access to. At least, not until he turned eighteen. Until then, Oscorp would be under the leadership of some vulturistic businessman appointed by the Board of Directors. The names Harry had heard being passed around were not ones he was fans of. Of Smythe, Hammer, or Kingsley, none of them made his hackles lower. He knew it was inevitable that one of them would take over, and that meant he would have to have a plan to keep Oscorp Oscorp. For his father.
Peter really didn't want to endure 'Jolly' Jonah's crazed shouts about a new man-in-a-mask wreaking havoc on the city, but he did need to collect his paycheck. As the doors to the elevator opened, Peter sighed, mentally preparing himself.
However, as he entered, he saw a plethora of happy faces surrounding both Mr. Foswell and another person Peter couldn't quite see. He walked toward them, with each step he expected to hear J.J. shout at them all to get back to work, but no such shout came.
"You must be really proud of your father?" came Betty's voice.
"Who wouldn't be?" an upbeat voice replied. Peter was sure the feminine voice belonged to whoever he couldn't see. "It's the second time my dad's brought down a criminal with just his words!"
"That's a real hero for you! Not some masked menace that terrorizes the city with webs!"
Ahh there he is, Peter remarked. Though Jonah was trashing him, it brought a smirk to Peter's face to hear the editor's thoughts.
When Peter finally made it to the group, he saw Mr. Foswell standing with his arm wrapped around a young woman who was only a year older than the sixteen-year-old superhero and looked very similar to the old reporter. She was slightly taller than Peter, with curly brown hair up to her shoulders, and a one-piece green dress that fell to her knees. Looking at her closer, Peter found himself falling victim to the killer of teenage boys: a very pretty face. And stare he did, until she noticed him. Peter, being the nerd he was, blushed and quickly looked away, missing her smirk at him.
"Peter! Just the man I wanted to see," Foswell said, walking over to the teen to shake his hand. "Wanted to tell you the good news myself!"
"Good news?"
"Yeah! Remember that investigation you helped me with about Lincoln?" Peter nodded his head, still unsure of where Foswell was going. "Well, they decided to publish my book regarding all his operations, as further proof of all the charges he's facing right now!"
Peter's mouth dropped. "Sir, that's awesome!" This will definitely help pressure ol' Tomby to be a good boy. "I'm happy for you sir."
"For us, Pete! If it weren't for your help, and bravery to take all those pictures we'd have nothing to celebrate," Foswell said. "You're being credited in my book, and you'll get paid for your pictures that are included in it!"
Peter's eyes widened and his 'thank you' seemed stuck in his mouth. Bad guys? No problem, I can talk till I'm KO'd. Something actually going right in my life? Not a word.
"After the Bugle is paid their share for you being a worker of ours," Jonah said with all the bluntness of a sledgehammer. Foswell and Peter both rolled their eyes, though Foswell had an exasperated fondness Peter lacked.
"C'mon Uncle Jonah," the girl said, smiling at J.J.J. "Don't be a party pooper."
"Party Pooper!?" Jonah barked.
"Uncle Jonah!?" Peter asked.
Foswell slapped his forehead. "Where are manners? Pete, this is my daughter, Janice. She's spending the day with me since her mom hasn't gotten back."
"P-Peter Parker," stammered Peter, as he extended his hand to Janice. "Nice to meet you."
"Very nice to meet you too!" she said enthusiastically, moving closer to Peter, making him blush. Then, her eyes widened. "Wait! You're the guy who takes pictures of Spider-Man!" Janice moved even closer to Peter, causing him to blush even more, Foswell to roll his eyes, and Betty to smile at Peter. "You think you can teach me how to do it? I'd love to become a journalist, and getting an interview with Spidey could really help me with a career or college app!"
"Uh, let's worry about graduating first honey," Foswell said to his daughter.
"Nonsense!" Jonah yelled, causing everyone to jump. "If a kid like Parker can already have a career as an amateur photographer, a young woman with the looks, smarts, and talent like Janice can start wherever she wants!"
"Really?" Janice asked, her eyes going as wide like a puppy's.
"Of course!" Jonah answered like it was a stupid question. "Bring me a good article, and I can help you start!"
"Yes! I'll start right away!" Janice practically ran to the elevator, waving goodbye as she went, before the elevator closed, she waved once more at Peter.
The moment the door closed, Foswell turned to his boss with exasperation in his eye. "Jonah, why did you do that? I don't want her hopes to get up for nothing."
J.J.J. waved his hand at Foswell. "Calm down, there's nothing wrong with it. Besides, no matter what she turns in, it'll be good practice for her."
"I suppose," Foswell conceded.
Peter, who had watched the whole exchange, stood impressed. Guess track records don't mean everything.
"NOW GET MOVING PEOPLE!" the editor-in-chief roared, a vein in his forehead rising prominently. Then, he pointed to Peter. "If I don't have incriminating evidence of both Spider-Man and that new criminal in white in three-point-five-six seconds, you're FIRED!"
There he is.
Foswell left the Bugle late and took a cab in order to get back home. He was tired and there were still some adjustments he had to make to his book.
"Evening sir, where can I take you?" asked the driver.
"Good evening. Central Park, please, I can guide you from there," Foswell answered.
"Sounds good!" The driver closed the window in between the back seat and front, then pressed a button that locked it in place before pressing another. A dark purple gas flew into the back seat, slowly filling up the available space.
"Eh? What's–What's the meaning of this?" Foswell yelled as the gas crept closer to him.
"We need to have a little chat, Patch," the driver replied.
Foswell heard the reply, but his answer died on his lips as the gas took effect, knocking him out. The taxi then moved, taking the unconscious reporter with him.