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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 4 years ago

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(Which Spider-Man?) Mary-Jane takes Miles under her wing instead or Peter has to kill Beck

(set after into the spiderverse)

defeating kingpin and sending the other spider... well, men off to their own worlds felt great, but once it’s over miles has to face the fact that he’s still starting out on his own here and this world’s peter parker, his spiderman, is still fresh in the city’s memory. it means he gets some weird and mixed reactions from people during his first few swing-throughs of the city, but he tries to take them in his stride.

he reminds himself that he has people to go to for advice and support and an entire, whaddayacallit, spider cave to peruse if he wants to. there’s fresh and advanced webshooters, web fluid, costume changes, tracking and recording equipment, and besides, may parker is badass. there’s no reason why he shouldn’t be hanging out there all the time.

except--

there’s this way may’s eyes soften and get watery when she’s looking at him and thinks he isn’t noticing, her entire body cratering at the centre after being upright for so long. it’s awkward when she once asks him to call her ‘aunt may’ then stops herself, looking stricken, then never brings it up again. sitting in her house sipping hot chocolate means remembering the first time he was sitting in that hall; looking at the fading scorch marks on the wall; thinking uncle aaron i miss you and realising for probably the hundredth time that week that he’s never going to see his uncle again. it’s like he’s surrounded by a thousand invisible emotional tripwires, and he’s always walking into them and falling into some memory.

so, yeah. he doesn’t really go to may’s much, unless it’s for an emergency, or he’s running low on web fluid, or needs to repair his costume. it’s during one such trip that he finds mary jane watson sitting in the spidercave.

mj (because of course she wants him to call her mj) is… nice. she’s nice. there’s not a whole lot more miles can say at first because again: peter parker is this sort of insurmountable wall between them, and as much as he bonded with other (his) pete, he isn’t quite sure what this (not his peter but technically his universe’s, so, well. shit. this is all very confusing) peter was really like. he was very kind to miles when he first saw him (and quicker to put two and two together) but did he have that same exhausted dad energy? was he scarily competent and an absolute slob at the same time? did he get that soft, wondering look in his eyes, like he’d received a gift he never expected to get, whenever he thought nobody was looking at him? did he ask his famous-in-her-own-right journalist girlfriend to help him be spider-man, or was that part of him mostly a mystery to her too?

miles could ask said-girlfriend, but… it’s too soon. too raw. too awkward. too miles-has-schoolwork-and-vigilantism-consuming-every-second-of-his-life-and-he-just-doesn’t-have-any-leftover-energy-to-deal-with-this.

they exchange phone numbers during their second meeting and it continues to be weird at first (what’s miles going to do? send mary jane watson pictures of minecraft memes?), but he quickly discovers that mj isn’t really interested in spiderman related--or even adjacent--conversations either. it’s mostly messages asking him about his day, or about school, or if spiderman’s really taking the subway every other morning (miles’ spider genes apparently don’t allow him to withstand swinging from building to building after a full cheeseburger meal). miles quickly loses his nervousness and it even becomes a sort of comfort.

then: the messages start getting… different. what you’re looking for isn’t there and see attachment and i can get you oscorp’s internal files on this and the nuclear material is coming in from oslo not ohio what the fuck even is this spellcheck

all the tips pan out because of course they do, it’s mary jane watson. miles isn’t entirely sure how she seems to know so often what he’s working on, but he suspects that she watches where he’s been as spiderman closer than he first thought.

still, he feels awkward enough that it’s a while before he texts her i think i’m stuck on this one.

the reply is almost immediate: i thought you’d never ask.

being spider-man is all fun and games until it suddenly isn’t: when miles realises he’s out there in the middle of an inferno without backup, during every moment he jumps off a building and thinks for a split-second, mid-air: what if i don’t make that next landing. more often than not he makes it out okay at the end of the day, but there are also moments like this: stuck under a wooden beam, hurt just enough that he can’t muster the strength to throw the beam off his back, fire raging in the floors beneath him, the heat wafting up threatening to cook him in his nice superhero suit.

i might not make it is no longer a split-second thought. in fact it’s a thought that occupies a lot of whole seconds strung together.

then: “spiderman!”

the shout is followed a few seconds later by mj herself, her form shimmering and wavering in the heat, handkerchief pressed to her nose and mouth. when she sees him her watering eyes light up.

miles’ jaw hangs open, and something clicks in his head: there’s no way spiderman could’ve existed without this reckless, brave, smart yet so stupid, incredible person.

he’s a lot less nervous about asking for help after that, and about reminding her that yeah, he can be a little foolish at times, but she was the one who ran alone into a burning building to help somebody with super-strength and super-healing. she never argues that last one, just smiles fondly.

mj becomes fast friends with miles’ mother. miles doesn’t even remember how they met--ran into each other at the grocery store every weekend? something. it isn’t really relevant. what’s important is that now mj and his mom appear to be best friends, and miles isn’t sure how to feel about this. he gets the notion that, despite not being bitten by a radioactive spider, mj is much farther along in this world than he is. boundaries are different. more porous.

even so, mj is… something else.

sometimes, sitting across from her at the dining table at home, it feels like the world is a little bit warmer, a little more… complete. then she would catch his eye and give him a knowing smile, and miles is in his costume again, poised at the apex of an expansive arc and not knowing where he’s going to land in a world he’s starting to realise he doesn’t really understand after all.

he never tells mj about the multiverse spidermen, though he can tell she is curious about where he disappears to every now and then. truth be told, he’s a bit scared of how she’ll react to the idea of other peters existing.

months after that first meeting, miles and mj visit peter’s grave together.

it’s probably the first time miles has seen mj be anything but calm and put-together. exhaustion piles in like sand in a tipped hourglass. her shoulders slump and her nails claw into a faded sweatshirt that she’s holding in her hands. and yet… she’s holding back, miles realises. for all that he’s seen of her in the last several months, there’s a layer she’s still reserving for peter and miles… doesn’t resent it exactly, this peter spectre that keeps coming up between him and everything that he wants to know about how to do his job, but he hopes…

he hopes he’ll get to know mj some day.

he walks away to a cafe nearby. mj joins him half an hour later, eyes red and mascara smeared but her face dry. they buy milkshakes and plot their next move against doc ock.

( send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons! )

#spiderman #into the spiderverse #miles morales #mary jane watson #my fic #sillierthanasillylaugh #i got stuck halfway through this #like proper STUCK - for a whole month #and my brain didn't allow me to work on anything else until i finished this so #it's been a frustrating month #it's done and i kinda never want to see it again

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peter-parkner · 5 years ago

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CONGRATS ON 300!!! can a request a platonic parkner + 84? I feel like that’s the perfect prompt for two people who are the definition of chaotic energy. I can see Peter saying but I’ll leave it up to you!! ⭐️💗

Mischief Managed - Part 1

“We really can’t thank you and Peter enough for doing this tonight.” Pepper’s heels clacked across the wooden floor as she moved through the kitchen, dumping her handbag onto the counter.

“It’s no trouble, really. Besides, there’s at least ten sweet old ladies living in Peter’s neighborhood who are sure to give us extra candy tonight.” Harley was perched atop a stool at the marble breakfast bar. He was on his laptop finishing a last-minute school assignment.

Pepper walked over and kissed him on the head. “Well, we appreciate it anyway.” She stopped and looked around, brows furrowed, “Harley, have you seen my –”

“Lipstick? You left it in the bathroom.” Tony walked into the kitchen waving a small black tube between his fingers. He was dressed in a sleek, black three-piece suit.

Pepper snatched it from her husband’s hand, relief filling her features as she dropped it into her handbag. She gave Tony an appraising look before walking over to him and fiddling with his tie. Between the finger light touches and small smiles, Harley felt like he was invading on something deeply intimate.

He cleared his throat, “Um, I’m gonna go get Peter.”

Pepper nodded but didn’t respond. Harley made his way toward the elevators and down to the lower floors where the labs were. It was Halloween and, of course, Peter Parker was the only person still working through the holiday. The elevator doors dinged open and Harley stepped inside. He pressed the button for the 50th floor, watching as the number lit up a soft yellow.

“Hey Peter, are you almost ready? I just have to change and then…”

His words trailed off as he rounded the corner and entered their shared lab space. Standing in the middle of the lab was Peter, covered in prototype web fluid. Peter’s face and hair were unscathed, but his clothes definitely were not salvageable. The left side of Harley’s mouth quirked upward in a smile at the sight in front of him.

“Is that, uh, what you’re dressing up as tonight?” Harley barely suppressed his laughter behind a wide grin.

“Oh, this isn’t a costume. This is my natural state of being.”

Foam was steadily dripping off of Peter’s clothes and onto the scuffed up tile floors. It landed with a resounding ‘plop.’ Peter grabbed some paper towels in an attempt to mop up the mess, but it was in vain. Harley took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. He gave the man another once over. Halloween was not going to be ruined by a chemistry experiment gone wrong.

“I can fix this.”

Harley glanced at his Stark watch; they had about fifteen minutes to get ready. He put on his game face and dragged Peter toward the decontamination shower, throwing him inside.

Fifteen minutes to the second hand, Harley and Peter stumbled out of the elevator and into the common room. Pepper and Tony were talking in low voices while they sat waiting on the couch. Well, Pepper sat. Tony was awkwardly leaning over the back of the sectional so the two could still be eye-level. He didn’t want to wrinkle his three-piece suit prematurely.

“We’re ready whenever Little Miss is.” Harley hopped over the back of an armchair while Peter filled himself a glass of water in the kitchen.

“Gotta say Underoos, that’s a bold costume choice,” Tony quipped from where he leaned against the sofa as he took in Peter’s appearance.

“Not my finest work, but I think it’ll do.” Harley also eyed up Peter’s Halloween costume while the man in question continued sipping from his glass of water.

Tony squinted harder at Peter. “Hey, Harls isn’t that the shirt I bought you when you moved to New York?”

“Yup.”

Peter was dressed up as a New York City tourist: the most cliché thing Harley could think of in the moment. He had on white socks the hit his mid-calf, red low-top Converse and Harley’s white ‘I

As if on cue, Morgan called out from behind the kitchen wall, “Are you guys ready!”

“Yeah, Sweetie!” Pepper replied as four pairs of eyes turned toward the arched doorway.

“Drum roll!” Peter started furiously banging on the marble counter top while Harley aided him using the arms of his chair as makeshift drums.

After a beat of silence, Morgan jumped out from behind the partition. She struck a pose and was met by a chorus of praises as everyone stood up.

“A bat? That’s awesome!” Peter leaned down and high-fived Morgan.

She was wearing a black tunic dress over leggings with matching Mary Janes. Black arm bracers attached to a cape turned into magnificent bat wings when Morgan raised her arms. As she smiled, fake fangs glistened in the soft, overhead lighting. A black choker and ruby red hair clips finished off the costume.

Morgan ran over to Pepper, who easily scooped her up. “We both thought she’d want to be a superhero, but nope,” a small laugh escaped her lips, “Their science class finished a section on bats for Halloween and now they’re Morgan’s favorite animal.”

Tony beamed down at his daughter while he fixed her hair clips. Peter was already taking five-hundred pictures of the family with his camera. Pepper and Tony’s million-dollar outfits sharply juxtaposed Morgan’s Halloween costume.

“Oh my God, I get Harley’s costume now.” He paused his picture taking to stare at the other man from where he now leaned against the sofa, in the space Tony previously occupied.

Harley was clad in all black: black jeans, black t-shirt, black Doc Martens and a leather jacket. The only thing that gave away what his costume was supposed to be was the fake blood dripping down his mouth and vampire fangs that peeked out when he smiled. They also matched Morgan’s pair.

“Why do you get to wear a cool costume?” Peter pouted while Morgan giggled.

“Because I’m a cool person, duh.” Harley brushed past Peter with Morgan’s pumpkin shaped, trick-or-treat bucket in hand.

After two more trips upstairs from Pepper, another round of photos and multiple phone calls from Happy, who waited impatiently in the parking garage downstairs, the quintet made their way toward the elevators.

“You have both of our personal numbers, right?”

“Yes, Pepper.”

“And you have Happy’s?”

“Yes, Pepper.” Harley’s voice was exasperated but his smile was fond.

“Peter, you have your web-shooters on, right?”

“Yes ma’am!” Peter rolled back the sleeves of his long-sleeve shirt to expose his gadgets.

“Tony, are we forgetting anything else?” Pepper turned to her husband, brows furrowed.

After a moment of contemplation, Tony spoke: “Save some candy for us, okay?”

Pepper elbowed him in the ribs with her left arm while the right held tightly onto Morgan’s hand. Tony discreetly rubbed his side when the five of them exited the elevator upon reaching the parking garage level. Mr. and Mrs. Stark kissed their daughter goodbye, hugged Harley and Peter in turn and made their way toward Happy’s Audi.

“Have fun, kids!”

After the Audi drove off, Harley, Peter and Morgan got into Aunt May’s Toyota. Peter made sure everyone was buckled in and then started their drive over to Queens.

By the time they pulled into May’s building, it was seven pm. Peter swiftly parked and the trio crossed the street, eager to start trick-or-treating. They had meticulously planned a route through the safest residential area by May’s apartment. The sounds of Halloween floated through the air as the trio neared their destination. Harley’s grip on Morgan’s hand tightened when they started encountering more and more adults with their children.

Goblins, ghouls and superheroes flew by the trio while children ran rampant in the streets. Darkness had settled over Queens with only lampposts and the neon glow of front porch decorations to light their way. Harley looked down at Morgan as she happily skipped beside him in her bat costume.

“You ready to get some candy?”

Morgan shook her head eagerly and Harley let go of her hand, urging her toward the house in front of them. He and Peter followed closely behind. The front porch light was on and two large, carved pumpkins with candles inside of them sat on the steps leading up to the door. Morgan stood on her tiptoes and rang the doorbell, a wide grin on her face.

“Trick-or-treat!” Morgan exclaimed as soon as the door fully opened, revealing a young woman in her mid-thirties.

She looked down and grinned at Morgan. “And what are you supposed to be young lady?”

“A bat!” She spread her arms to put her faux-wings on display.

“Wow! That’s so cool!” The woman presented a large bowl of candy to Morgan. Her eyes lit up as her small hands eagerly dug around for Hershey’s bars, Morgan’s favorite. “You might want to take a few extras for your brothers.” She looked up and winked at Harley and Peter.

Peter beamed back at the woman when she gave a final wave before closing her front door. Morgan turned and skipped ahead of the two toward the next house, pumpkin bucket swinging back and forth. Their next destination had a front yard littered with fake tombstones. A green spotlight cast an eerie glow on the domicile as well. Harley made Morgan hang back while they patiently waited for another family to finish conversing with the elderly couple who owned the residence.

Once they left, Morgan eagerly ran to the front door and the trick-or-treat cycle started all over again.

The rest of the night flew by seamlessly as Morgan enchanted couple after couple into giving her extra candy without even trying. Her bucket was overflowing by the time the trio made it back to May’s apartment building; even Harley and Peter had to stuff some sweets into their pockets for her. Peter’s Nikon was filled with pictures of the three of them throughout the night and he couldn’t wait to show Pepper and Tony in the morning.

Though the night had started off a little rocky, Peter couldn’t help but break into a smile as he looked over at his best friend next to him and his self-appointed little sister strapped into the backseat. Morgan was counting her spoils of war inside the pumpkin bucket. Tonight was definitely a Halloween for the history books.

Part 2

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#parkner #parley #harleypeter #spiderlad #potatowebs #harley x peter #keenker #fic #halloween fic #request #prompt request #writeraj #iron fam #trick or treating fic #halloween prompts #halloween request

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marvelous-writer · 5 years ago

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#100 on fic prompts?

100. “You can only suffer through my whining for so long until you get up and make me a sandwich.”

Tony still didn’t know how he got here, stuck on the couch with his feet propped up on the long chaise, two pillows underneath his leg that was wrapped up in an obnoxious red and yellow cast, colors that were chosen by his five year old daughter.

He always use to get injured whenever he was in the suit but ever since he retired from being Iron Man and settled into this provincial life he’s made for himself… it’s been pretty dull and painfully uneventful.

That is until he tripped over his own two feet and fell down a flight of stairs in his own home.

Thankfully, Happy had been there yesterday afternoon when it happened and Pepper was out with Morgan shopping. The last thing he’d ever want is for his daughter to be traumatized from the sight of her old man being peeled off from the floor by Happy with a horrifyingly not normal shape to his right leg.

A trip to the ER and multiple x-rays and scans later discovered that it was a clean break, not bad but definitely not good. The doctor estimated the recovery time to be six to eight weeks and it was an absolute miracle he didn’t need surgery, which he was immensely thankful for.

He just wasn’t feeling so thankful now, however, and being trapped on the couch certainly wasn’t helping him.

“I seriously feel like I’m going insane.” Tony said, staring blankly at the TV on the wall as it played yet another episode of MythBusters.

He heard a sigh beside him, causing him to tilt his head, taking in Peter’s slightly amused expression as he watched the show.

“What am I going to do for six weeks? I have projects that I need to get to in the lab and I was supposed to bring Morgan horseback riding next Friday.” Tony complained, earning another sigh from the kid.

“And I already told you that I’m fine with going with her and Pepper. And if you’re talking about building Morgan that electric sled for the winter, Pepper already said no, like twice.”

“Yeah, but I know you’d get a kick out of using it.” Tony threw him a grin.

Peter smiled and shook his head, choosing not to answer to that, which was a complete dead giveaway. Tony could only imagine the fun the two of them would have on those things when the winter came, zipping around the yard on their electric sleds, sliding down those steep hills amongst their thirty acres of property.

Was he trying to bribe the kid into letting him get off the couch? Yes. Yes indeed because Tony was surely to lose his mind before the end of the day.

Pepper had to go to work, Happy bringing her, and Rhodey was away on an Avengers mission, and Pepper had brought Morgan to work with her so he wouldn’t have to worry about taking care of anyone but himself, plus he wasn’t exactly in the condition to. So, that was how Peter showed up a few hours earlier right before Pepper left, given strict instructions of keeping Tony off his leg and not letting him do anything stupid.

So basically he was on house arrest.

Tony let out an annoyed sigh and crossed his arms over his chest, focusing back on the TV.

“You’re pouting.” Peter pointed out.

“Am not.”

“Yes you are.”

Tony half-heartedly glared over at him before dropping his arms at his sides, letting his head fall back against the pillows he was propped up against. Of all the forms of torture he’s been through, being trapped on the couch seemed like the worst of them all right now. He always needed to move around and work, whether it be tinker in the garage, fix something around the house, or even whip up something relatively edible in the kitchen.

“Yeah, well just be grateful that you have that super fast healing ability of yours. A break like this would be healed in at least three or four days for you. I don’t suppose you could share any of it with your old man?” Tony asked, rolling his head to the side towards Peter, who just smirked at his comment.

“I would if I could.” He said. “And it actually took me two days the last time.” He smirked.

Tony closed his eyes, trying to get the memory of Peter in the medbay after a particularly bad patroll that had gone south when he ran out of web fluid mid swing. “Yeah don’t remind me. I still get nightmares about that.”

“Sorry.” Peter softly said, sounding guilty.

The room went silent for a few minutes, except for the TV. Rain was lightly tapping against the windows outside, giving the atmosphere a slightly relaxed vibe despite his anxiety clawing away at his chest.

“Gerald should probably be in with it raining…” Tony said as he began to push himself up, only for a firm hand to gently push him back to the couch.

“I’ll go bring him in if he’s not. Just stay here and don’t move.” Peter said as he stood up from the couch, already making his way over to the front door, picking his jacket up from the rack and slipping his sneakers on.

“But-”

“Nope! No buts. I’ll be back in a second.” Peter told him as he opened the door, turning around with a finger pointed at him. “Stay.”

Tony’s face scrunched up in displeasure at that. “Did you really just tell me to stay? I’m not a dog, kid.”

Peter rolled his eyes with a smile before he stepped out on the front porch and closed the door behind himself, leaving Tony alone in the living room.

He blew out a breath through his mouth, folding his arms over his chest as he sat there. It wasn’t even a few moments later when the front door opened again and Peter walked in, his jacket completely soaked.

“He was already in there so I closed the door a bit.” Peter told him as he toed his shoes off as he peeled his jacket off, hanging it back up on the coat rack.

“Thanks.”

Peter hummed in response as he made his way back over and settled on the couch beside him, tucking against Tony’s side without any warning, earning a soft chuckle from him. He wrapped an arm around the kid’s shoulders, his lips pulling into a small smile as he breathed in the kid’s vanilla shampoo scented hair.

“Do you need anything?” Peter asked after a few moments of peaceful silence passed by as they listened to the rain.

“I need off of this couch, like yesterday.”

Peter breathed out a laugh into his shoulder.

“I’m not kidding. I need to get up and move around. I’ll even use the crutches, just like the doctor told me to.”

“Pepper gave me strict instructions to make sure you stayed off your feet, the only exception being the bathroom.”

“You practically carried me to the bathroom the last time I asked.”

“Just following orders.” Peter mumbled into his side and Tony could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“Yeah, sure you were. Sure.” Tony grumbled, running a hand through the teen’s curls.

They stayed like that for some time after that, switching from the Discovery Channel to Hallmark, where one of the new June Weddings movies was playing. It was no secret that Peter enjoyed watching Hallmark movies because May and him always seemed to watch the movie marathons around Christmas time, as well as Thanksgiving. And May’s obsession had bled over to Pepper becoming obsessed when the two had their weekly phone calls. Ever since, they’ve had the Hallmark channel favorited on their television network, alongside Tony’s subscription of American Heroes.

“Why can’t she see that this guy’s a complete dick?” Tony asked, raising a hand towards the TV. “Just look at him. Why take a lady out on a date if you can’t take a minute to stop looking at your phone?”

“Seriously.” Peter agreed next to him, still leaning against him.

They were about a quarter into the movie when Tony glanced at the clock on the wall, seeing that it was well past noon time.

“You hungry? When was the last time you ate?” Tony asked, tilting his head down to look at the kid.

“Uh, since Happy picked me up from the apartment this morning I guess? But yeah, I could eat. What do you want?”

“I’m thinkingsandwiches.” Tony said as he began to sit up more so he could swing his casted leg over the side of the couch, feeling the limb pulsate with a dull ache, despite him being on some hefty pain meds.

Peter put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him. “Nuhuh. Sit down. I’ll go make it.”

“Kid. I really don’t need you doing everything for me. I’ve broken a lot more bones before, some that were a lot worse than this. And this... is nothing.” Tony gestured to his casted leg. “C’mon just let me up.” He said as he tried to take the kid’s hand off but he wouldn’t budge.

He looked over at him, lip pulled to the side with an eyebrow raised, only to find Peter with a determined expression on his face, starting at him in a silent warning, which was a bit uncharacteristic of the kid. Was this him being overprotective or something? Was a sixteen year old seriously mother henning him right now?

Tony stared at him for a few more moments before giving in, letting out a defeated sigh, slumping back against the couch. “You can only suffer through my whining for so long until you get up and make me a sandwich.” He said, meeting the kid’s eyes once again.

Peter smiled and stood up from the couch, helping him by lifting his good leg back onto the chaise, as well as adjusting the pillows his broken leg was elevated on.

“Turkey and cheese?” Peter called over his shoulder as he walked towards the kitchen to the refrigerator.

“Smoked ham, too please.” Tony begrudgingly answered from his spot on the couch.

When Peter came back in the living room with the sandwiches and their beverages, he handed Tony his plate before resuming his spot curled up beside him, digging into one of his two sandwiches. Tony smiled to himself as he stole a few glances over at the kid throughout the remainder of the movie. While he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, maybe being confined to the couch wasn’t such a bad thing, especially if it meant he got to spend some quality one-on-one time with his kid.

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septic-dr-schneep · 7 years ago

Text

JSE Fanfiction - In Time of Need (Part 18: Unreality)

Summary: While the others attempt to find their balance in the real world, what exactly is going on inside Jackieboy’s head?

A/N: Warning for violence, blood and emotional/psychological trauma.

Despair…

Poison…

Shadows…

Misery…

Broken…

Death, death, death, death—

“Help me! Somebody help me!”

Bitterly cold sweat clung to Jackieboy like a full facemask as he sprinted toward the source of the sound. He was more afraid now than he had ever been because he knew who he would find when he came to the end of this road. The screams were growing in volume, in fear—He could hear each cry in varying pitches, but they were all the very same voice. He would know that voice in any time and any place, no matter the age or the pitch, and no matter what it took, he had to save him.

The moment he turned the corner past the last building in a dark, powerless metropolis, he spotted him and a fresh surge of fear and adrenaline spurred him on. His strides lengthened, his feet pounding like thunder against the cracked, uneven ground.

He had to reach him, save him, he had to protect him. He had protected his people more times than he could count and they were the farthest thing from his mind. For an eternity now he had tried to find someone, anyone in the wasteland of Elvery Heights and now, on the farthest reaches of it all, he could hear him. No one else had ever mattered more. He meant the world and everything in it. Jackieboy had to make him safe and keep him that way; it was all he was created for—

When he hit the transparent barrier, it was with the force of a lightning strike and yet it didn’t break, sending him flying onto his back. Scrambling upright just as quickly as he fell, the hero flew at it again, slamming his fists against it and staring desperately at the little boy on the other side. He surrounded by shadowy figures on all sides—sticky, deformed masses that created an inky web around him, cornering him, hemming him in.

“I’m here!” Jackie called urgently. “I’m here! Let me save you!”

Pressing his hands against his face, little Jack only sobbed harder; if he didn’t look up, he wouldn’t see him! Punching the unseen barrier again with enough force to make his hands bleed, Jackieboy cursed and screamed at him, unheard.

“It’s all around me!” This cry came from an older Jack, a teen crawling out of one of the oozing black creatures, coughing and choking as its essence dripped down his face into his mouth, strangling him. The child Jack flinched away from him, another stuttered scream escaping him as he threw out his hands to protect himself.

“I can hear it calling!” A third Jack burst from the darkness on his left, tearing at himself, trying to peel the ooze away as it slid over the green crown of his head and streaked down his skin and clothing and hair.

Immediately in front of the child, there appeared a fourth—the present Jack, hair and beard darker and thicker, hospital gown flapping wildly in an unseen wind around his thin frame as he stumbled, hunched over, clutching at his throat and bleeding from the eyes and mouth.

While he never locked eyes with the Ego he’d created, he did lift his head, staring into the distance as his bloody lips formed words that never fully surfaced. Even without the sound, Jackie knew what he was saying.

“Goodbye.”

“No!” he howled, scrabbling frantically at the barrier as every part of his creator slowly melted before his eyes, pain and anguish the last thing to see on his inky, liquid face. At long last, the barrier cracked and with three more blows it shattered, but he couldn’t dive forward fast enough. As soon as he did, the scene changed and he had thrown himself into the middle of a battle. Narrowly he dodged a volatile blast of magic and gasped, hurriedly whirling around to pinpoint its maker.

Bruised and bloody, Marvin stumbled backward, his whole body heaving as he struggled to drag in air. As soon as the shadowy creatures started to remanifest, however, he snarled, his eyes igniting with green light so powerful that his pupils and irises disappeared entirely. The spell he hollered was unintelligible but Jackie could feel the rage and the heat behind it as it soared past him and burned the creatures away. When he glanced back, Marvin had crumpled limply to the floor, smoke trailing from his exposed skin. Jackieboy’s heart lurched in his chest.

“Mar—!”

He never reached the second syllable. By some unseen force Marvin was dragged up onto his knees, thicker smoke trailing from his eyes and mouth. As pieces of his mask fell away and scattered before him, his skin turned ashen, shivering convulsively as bits and pieces of his body dissolved away into dust.

Jackieboy had no time to process the shock or even to shout. Gunshots echoed from a few hundred yards away, ricochets ringing dangerously past his ears.

Not Chase. Not Chase!

Shrill, panicked curses shattered the air as Chase charged across the battlefield, sending bullets in every direction in some reckless attempt to defend himself as a half-melted, shadowed war machine tore after him, engines roaring as if the machine itself were alive. Dripping black limbs burst from sockets along its body, swinging and grasping and shattering the ground in Chase’s wake.

Before Jackieboy could move to intercept, a sepia blur passed him from the other side, sprinting toward the danger instead of away from it. No, not toward the danger—toward Chase.

“No, no, get back!” Chase screeched, flinging an arm out desperately to stop him. He was thrown off balance by the motion; the next swipe from the machine snagged him, pushing and pulling simultaneously to bring the vlogger down on the razor edge of its second limb with a sickly crunch. It speared through his chest, drawing a strangled, dying wheeze from him before the limb reeled back and flicked him off like an insect. As soon as he landed, Jameson skidded to a stop, quailing in horror as he saw the blood pooling under Chase’s still form.

As soon as his mouth opened, a hideous noise exploded from him, sending a shock of agony to Jackieboy’s core. JJ’s aura was screaming for him—harsh, distorted tones of old-timey tunes screeching brokenly up and down until they were little more than garbled reverberations, the sepia colors blurring with static and billowing like a storm away from him as he dropped to the ground and pawed at Chase’s body, sobbing into him. While he was distracted, the dripping black limb of the machine swung again, smashing into him at ninety miles an hour. It shattered him on impact.

Schneep was there to catch him, cradling his broken body as he sank onto the ground, curling around him and weeping bitterly into his hair. “Kleine…Kleine…”

As the machine crawled closer, casting a long shadow over him, the doctor lifted his head, weakly blinking away the tears brimming in his eyes as he stared death in the face.

“I know you kill me next,” he whispered.

“Run! Henrik, run!” Jackieboy bellowed. For the first time Schneep reacted to his voice, startling and turning wild eyes to him.

“Jackie?!”

“RUN!” he howled again and Schneep obeyed, scrambling frenziedly to his feet and bolting as the machine chittered and roared.

No matter how either of them ran, no matter the distance they crossed in less than a second, it wasn’t enough. Before they could close the distance, the floor distended, cracked and gave way beneath them. Stars streamed past in a frightening blur as Jackieboy tumbled into the blinding abyss below. After mere seconds of falling, he froze, his hood falling quite gently away from his face.

He hung suspended in midair, scarcely able to breathe. One by one, the stars around him flickered and died out until he was enveloped in complete blackness. The only thing he could hear was the thundering of his own heart in his ears.

The longer he dangled there, unable to move, unable to do anything but let his racing mind still, the further reality set in.

This couldn’t be real…

He couldn’t have…

They couldn’t be gone.

Ever so gradually, the shock and horror of everything he had seen up above gave way to helpless rage so deep in his core that he felt like a bomb frozen mid-detonation. Anguish consumed him, coursing through him like wildfire. Helpless tears scalded his cheeks and his harsh panting gave way to broken moans.

“Please…please, n-no…Take me instead…Just take me…”

It was then that he felt something course and thin tickling his skin as it tangled around his neck. A second slithered after the first, tightening, and a third came after that, each wrapping itself around his throat with more force than the last. He stiffened and gasped, straining to move, but his body wouldn’t respond, not even when the cords were starting to set bruises into his skin.

Each mouthful of air receded further and further as one cord after another pulled taut around him, methodically, deliberately bearing down on his windpipe. His lungs felt elastic, falling slack where they should be constricting and searching for air. The more he struggled and flailed internally, the less air he found until all rational thought became a cloudy, oxygen-deprived blur of dizziness and his eyes fluttered, rolling back in his head.

He let the tightening threads take him, and keep him.

When he woke, the first thing he was aware of was the piercing, needle-like pressure drilling into his skull, just behind his ears. He cried out against it, mostly out of shock and confusion, and then a second time as the pain belatedly registered.

He was still hanging in midair, but now he was mostly upright—in fact, he was tilted slightly forward. Across his chest, arms and legs he could feel thick straps holding him in place against a cold, unrelenting iron rack. The lights around him were dim but as soon as his senses adjusted, he could smell the stench of old blood and chemicals that had never managed to wash it out. He could hear the dripping of unseen fluids far away in the hall and…

Now he could see the man on the other side of the room. His recently regained breath burned as it stuck in his tender throat.

“Hello again,” the Doll Maker purred in his thick, eerily familiar accent, scraping his scalpel in a leisurely circle across the tray in front of him.

“Not you,” Jackieboy croaked, his voice breaking as he flinched back against the rack he was tied to. “Not—not you—” Despite the words coming out of his mouth, deep down he couldn’t help but feel the smallest twinge of relief at seeing someone who was flesh and blood, alive and apparently well.

“Who else would you expect, hmm? One of your friends, yes? Oh, forgive me—I forgot they died up above.” Chuckling ruefully, the former surgeon shook his head, wiping a thumb over the edge of the scalpel and apparently uncaring when he sliced the skin open. He barely reacted; did he feel any pain?

“How…do you know…?”

“We are in your mind, ragdoll. You teach me everything I know whether you like it or not!” Behind his glasses, his old nemesis’ eyes scrunched up like merry crescent moons as he smiled behind his mask, wiping his bleeding thumb off on his apron and approaching. “Is time to have my fun with you before you’re taken back up there to watch them all die again! So messy, isn’t it? I will try not to make such mess.”

Shivering violently with unspent adrenaline, Jackieboy pressed as far back against the rack as he could, hissing in pain as the needles dug further into his skull. Unaffected by it, the Doll Maker lightly traced his cheekbones and jaw with the scalpel, drawing thin cuts.

“I never bothered sizing you up whenever we met, did I?” he questioned rhetorically. “Now I’ve just noticed: you have little smile lines around your eyes, ragdoll! But you don’t have much reason to smile now, do you?”

If he was in the mood to chat, Jackieboy would chat. Maybe the Doll Maker could reveal something he didn’t know, something he needed, he decided in a heartbeat. “Do you…” Biting his lower lip, he leaned his head forward half a millimeter, trying to ease up some of the pressure. “Do you know what happened to Henrik? He was still alive, he was with me…We fell.”

“Oh, I imagine the good doctor is with the Glitch. That’s where he always is when he’s not with you, isn’t it? Because the Glitch always takes him right out from under your nose.”

“S-Shut up.”

“Ahh, don’t shoot the messenger, hero. You know it’s true.”

“He’s—”

“Even here in your zany little brain,” the Doll Maker interrupted emphatically, “that’s where he is when he isn’t with you. Whenever you can’t find him, you know it means he’s in danger. You’d be joined to the hip with him if you could be, wouldn’t you? You’d be joined at the hip with all of them if you had enough hips!” He laughed then, appreciating his own joke, and then patted Jackieboy’s side reassuringly. “Once my little numbing agent works, you won’t have to worry about your hips anymore.”

“Numbing agent?”

“What did you think those needles behind you were, screws in the rack?” At Jackieboy’s increasingly nervous silence, the Doll Maker lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug, waving the scalpel dismissively. “Not my usual style, I know. I would like to cause you much more pain, but in your mind I do not—ah, what is it you say? I do not ‘call the shots.’ The Glitch does.”

The stricken hero’s breath promptly fell harder and faster at that. “Anti. Anti’s in my head,” he murmured hoarsely. “He’s controlling my dreams—”

“And he controls me too!” the Doll Maker reminded him, small patches of his body glitching faintly at the words. “I’m just a little avatar.”

“Then all of the others…they weren’t real? They didn’t actually—?”

“Oh, no, no, no. The others are still alive and well out in the real world!”

As he gradually became aware of the nauseating pins-and-needles sensation tingling through him, Jackieboy tilted his head, squinting at him. He would have expected relief at those words but instead the only things he could feel were bewilderment and unease. “Why…why would you tell me that?”

“Because the Glitch wąn̛ts you to know. All of those d͠eath͝s you saw for them may not have happened, but he’s soon going to fix̨ th̕a̸t. That’s what he has p͟l̶an͡n̢e͝d͝ for them in the real world—and you? You’ll still be here, knowing what’s to come without being able to do a thing about it!” the Doll Maker exclaimed.

Jackieboy’s eyes tried to widen at that, but it was too much of a struggle. The pins and needles were dragging weightily over him, encompassing his whole body, making his eyes ache, making their lids heavy.

“Oh, silly me forget to mention one more thing,” his nemesis called as he started to drowse. “The numbing agent only works for as long as you’re unconscious. I’ll work fast to doll you up nicely while you’re sleeping, but I make no promises! When the drugs wear off and you come to…you’ll probably learn a whole new definition of pain.”

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