From The Smoke (Marvel)

Chapter 1: Chapter 1


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Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

 

Chapter 1– Rebirth

 


 

Darkness.

 

Light.

 

Oblivion.

 

Life.

 

Memories spin like universes. Explode like suns. Chaos becomes order.

 

Formlessness.

 

It becomes form.

 

The urge to know rises from the silence, becoming a shout of being that echoes into consciousness.

 

There are no words. There is no language. One question resounds in the dark abyss.

 

Who am I?

 

The answer lies in dreams.

 

Dreams of a life still to unfold. And yet, paradoxically, a life already lived.

 

Faces. Places. Emotions. Events.

 

A collage of sounds and images drifting everywhere.

 

A hand reaches out. Yearning.

 

To hold them. Absorb them. Understand them.

 

But each time, the wave of understanding recedes into darkness. Each time, he is alone again.

 

He?

 

Yes.

 

A sense of maleness, of sexual identity forms. And with it, a surge of power that elates him, unbelievable strength.

 

With this strength, he reaches out again, and there is no resistance this time.

 

How fast he grows, weaving the web of self.

 

There is no time here in this dark world he inhabits, yet he seems to be moving forward with unbelievable speed.

 

As if rushing headlong toward an extraordinary destiny to an answer to the first question, the only question.

 

Who Am I?

 

He does not receive an answer.

 

Dreams of a life still to unfold. And yet, paradoxically, a life already lived.

 

And yet, paradoxically, dreams of another life already lived.

 

Faces. Places. Emotions. Events.

 

A barrage of sounds and images drifting everywhere.

 

Faces. Places. Emotions. Events. Faces. Places. Emotions. Events.

 

Too many faces. Too many places. Too many emotions. Too many events.

 

Memories spin like universes. Explode like suns. Order becomes disorder.

 

Contadictions. Paradoxes. Confusion.

 

Who Am I?

 

Two answers...

 

Neither is correct.

 

Who Am I?

 


 

The light, however dim, pains his eyes. The air, however welcome, burns his lungs.

 

He works himself to his feet, struggling as if a newborn. Maybe he is.

 

He stands on unsteady legs, tries to focus on erratic thoughts, and nearly crumbles back to whence he came.

 

He takes in his surroundings, searching for some measure of comfort, certainty, or assurance.

 

All he has is the dim light shining down from above. But, even then, he can barely make it out through all the smoke that clouds his sight, his everything.

 

Searching for something else, he relies on his sense this time; he reaches out his hands to his sides.

 

His hands make contact with smooth curved surfaces; he follows them around and spins in a circle.

 

Wherever he is, he is in a cylinder of some kind.

 

He can't go down, he can't go forwards or backwards, he can't go left or right. He can only go up.

 

Up.

 

Impossible for an ordinary man, and yet he is undaunted. Instead, he feels a sense of right when he places both of his hands on the curved surface in front of him.

 

He places his foot on the surface as well and then pulls himself up, and yet gravity has no effect on him, and he feels no strain as he sticks to the wall.

 

Placing his other foot on the surface, he ventures upwards into the unknown.

 

He moves upwards with ease, with agility. It is natural for him; it is second nature.

 

He smoothly moves up the cylinder, and with each step, he rids himself of the surrounding fog. With each move he makes upward, he sees more and more light.

 

As if ridding himself of the confusion and fog, he remembers more and more as he climbs, an intricate web slowly piecing itself together as if weaved by some higher power.

 

With each step he takes, he gains more fragments; with each element, he makes more connections, and with each link, he makes sense.

 

Sense of his mind, of his circumstances, of his world, of who he is.

 

It is only the last one that he finds a problem with, he knows who he is, and furthermore, he knows who he is. Which means he can't be sure of who he is.

 

Two different lives, two different worlds, two different families, all collided into a single being.

 

He knows who he is; he knows both of them.

 

He continues to climb, no crawl, upwards out of this dark pit he has found himself in.

 

He used to be human before he became more than human; he used to be weak before he became strong. He used to be less; now, he is more.

 

He reaches up again, but instead of his hand going flat, it hooks up onto a ledge; he pulls himself up and out of the murky depths.

 

He sees the sun again for the first time, for the third time.

 

With the light comes clarity; there comes calm and understanding.

 

He is Peter Parker... Or at least he used to be...

 


 

I remember everything and even more than everything.

 

Peter Parker, the little guy in the background. And sometimes, not even then, he was locked away in a locker most of the time.

 

Peter Parker, if there was one word to describe him, it would be pitiable. At least that used to be the only word.

 

Born to Richard and Mary Parker, He went to stay with his aunt and Uncle just before his fifth birthday, but that was the last time he saw them.

 

They went on a business trip overseas, the plane went down in the middle of the sea, and the bodies were never discovered.

 

Since then, he lived with his Aunt May Parker and his Uncle Ben Parker, lovely kind people who were there for him when he needed it most.

 

They raised him to be someone his parents would be proud of, and they became his mother and father in all but name.

 

Life wasn't the best in Forest Hills Queens, but it is all he ever wanted, even if he couldn't see that sometimes.

 

Things changed when he arrived at Midtown High; things changed when puberty hit, and it hit hard.

 

He discovered new things, wanted those things, grew greedy, and grew selfish.

 

He wanted those things, but he didn't have the power to take them; then the spider came.

 

The spider gave him the strength to take all he wanted and fulfil all of his desires.

 

It was a mistake. How he wishes he could take it back.

 

He can't; he lost his father once again.

 

This time it was his fault; he killed his Uncle, his father.

You are reading story From The Smoke (Marvel) at novel35.com

 

The least he can do is live by his words, some of the last words spoken by the man who raised him.

 

With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility.

 

He would not let down his Uncle again; he would be someone his Uncle could be proud of.

 

And so the Spider-Man was born, don't forget the hyphen.

 

He used his great power responsibly to protect people and fight off those who wished harm to others.

 

He fought people made of sand, fueled by electricity, morphed by technology, and driven mad by power.

 

He grew up and matured; he moved on in his life, in both of them.

 

He graduated and went to university, where he met the love of his life; he was blinded by her brilliance and seduced by her wonder.

 

He loved her, could envision a life with her, wanted to grow old with her, and killed her.

 

He did it again, upon the Brooklyn Bridge. The green mad man may have been the one to push her, but he was the one who caught her; he was the one who ripped her life away from her and snuffed out her brilliant flame.

 

He wallowed, he despaired, but then he was pulled from his misery by someone who shone just as brightly as his first love; he was blinded by her kindness and seduced by her fire.

 

He healed and started to live, he couldn't forgive himself, but he could double down and continue to use his power responsibly; he could continue to live by his Uncle's words.

 

But she came back, his first love that shone so brightly until she dimmed, but the light came back again, but he knew what he felt, and he didn't dare to hope.

 

He was right; it was all a lie. A green mad man, a different green mad man here to ruin his life again.

 

He brought her back using his wicked science and morphed her into his own toy; he used her to lure me out and devised to make me break again.

 

The Shea Stadium is where the mad man chose for his final stage; when he arrived, he was struck from behind, and all he knew was darkness.

 

Wow. I feel like I've been stung by a hornet.

 

Two voices sounded out after he awoke, saying those exact same words, the same voice, the voice of himself and his clone's voice.

 

They both did the same thing they always do when faced with the unknown, and whenever they were scared, they used humour and made light of the situation, knowing deep down what had happened.

 

They didn't have time to think about the scary possibilities; a man's life was hanging in the balance. The mad man had an innocent man trapped with a bomb and hung on the side of the jumbotron, and only the original specimen would be able to diffuse the bomb and save the innocent man.

 

The green mad man laughed as they fought each other to get to the bomb, sure of being the original; next to the angry green man stood the clone of his first love.

 

She may have been a clone, but she was still the same woman he loved, her heart shone through the mad man's manipulations, and it shone so bright that she managed to reach past the mad man's delusions and pull out his original self.

 

Gone was The Jackal, and Professor Miles Warren made a brief reappearance. Using that moment of clarity, he freed the innocent man just before the bomb exploded, devouring the man in its boom; the jumbotron collapsed and fell on top of himself and his clone, and then everything faded to black.

 

He awoke in the smokestack attached to a factory and crawled his way out, having more questions than answers, he knew who he was, but that was before he awoke; who he is now is someone entirely different.

 

He knew the life of Peter Parker, of Spider-Man, having lived it himself. But he also knew of it through memories of watching it through a screen, but the life he watched through a screen is different from his own since he did not know Michelle Jones.

 

But that doesn't mean that the version of Peter Parker on the screen wasn't real; there were also two other Peter Parkers, one who married the redheaded love of his life and the other who felt the same heartbreak that I felt when losing our first love.

 

Different Peter Parkers, different Spider-Men from other universes. The Multiverse.

 

Admittedly those Spider-Men's lives seemed a lot simpler than his, maybe because they were stories portrayed by actors or just because of the lack of capable villains in their worlds. However, in the case of the youngest Spider-Man, the support of heroes much more experienced around him helping him, I would love a high-tech suit made by Tony Stark, but I have to do with the old underoos.

 

Most men would probably freak out after knowing that their entire life was just entertainment for people in another universe, and he probably would be as well. Still, he had other memories that came along with the viewings of the other Spider-Men played by actors.

 

The memories of the man who actually watched those movies, and while he watched them for entertainment that does not mean they didn't have meaning. Even the fictional Peter Parker, Spider-man, gave hope and helped others by providing hope and something to believe in even when not physically present in the world.

 

Plus, he had already seen tons of wacky unbelievable stuff, so it would not be a stretch to see a universe out there where the superheroes of this world are fictional in another world. A calmer world but a world just as dangerous where these fictional heroes inspired people to be better.

 

Like the man these memories came from, who was just a common ordinary man, he had a life, a family, a job and most of all, he was content with all of it. He wasn't an evil man, but neither was he a good man; he was just a man; he lived a selfish life where he cared only for those around him and no one else, but being selfish does not mean being bad.

 

A life filled with tragedy and self-sacrifice in the service of others, a life lived in the service of one's self filled with contentment and satisfaction. Two completely different worlds merged into one body, the body formerly belonging only to Peter Parker.

 

He lost consciousness as Peter Parker and awoke as someone new; he was reborn in a smokestack and emerged as someone with quite a few differences from the man he was only a couple of hours ago.

 

Far out...

 


 

He remembers the explosion at Shea Stadium, wreckage flying everywhere, and then he blacked out. He was a completely different man stuck in the smokestack of an incinerating plant in Brooklyn of all places when he came to. He had no clue what day it was or how long he had been unconscious for undergoing this strange metamorphosis and exactly how he wound up in the smokestack.

 

After emerging from its depths, he just sat on the roof, absorbing everything that had happened to him and everything that had changed in him; he stayed until day turned into night. Then he looked up at that tower as it belched black smoke into a night that seemed too cold and too dark, and it chilled him, and he couldn't even say why.

 

He knew he had to get out of there, and so he lept off of the roof and into the night, swinging through the cold New York streets, yet even as he webbed away, he still could not shake the chill he felt, a deep feeling that something was wrong. A fundamental wrongness that was as if someone had taken the spine of his soul and twisted it as if the universe itself was somehow out of sync. It might have been embarrassing to admit, but he was the most scared he had ever been in his entire life, including the new one he suddenly gained.

 

He kept swinging and swinging, and at some point, he realised that he was actually heading for Aunt May's, to beg her to hold him in her arms as she did when he was little and tell him that she loved him and that everything was going to be all right, but he wasn't a little boy anymore. He was a man, and not just any man but Spider-Man; he had learned years before that with great power came great responsibility. At that time, his most significant commitment was to find The Jackal; no matter his problems, he had his duty.

 

The man pushed all other thoughts aside and tried to focus on his duties, searching for Warren. He was concerned that the man might have somehow crawled away from that explosion (heaven knows he'd seen it happen before) and that the man's insanity had reinserted itself. However, he couldn't focus on anything else until he was sure that Ned Leeds was safe and that Gwen's clone was finally free of The Jackal's influence.

 

Until everything was sorted, he could not concern himself with anything else. For that, he needed to resupply and get more web fluid, so he decided to stop at his apartment, take a quick shower, grab a bite to eat and then continue to search, but as soon as he arrived outside his apartment window, his search ended right then and there. At first, he thought that when he had been unconscious, the clone had slipped into his shoes and taken over his life, and he wondered if this was Jackal's plan all along. But, then, he looked in through the window at Mary Jane's face and saw the love and passion reflected in her gaze as she tried to comfort the other Peter who pushed her away; he wanted to scream, to cry, "No, Mary Jane! Get away from him! He's a fraud! He's a lie!"

 

He raised his fist, ready to smash the window and risk exposing his double identity to Mary Jane to keep the monster inside the apartment away from her and from everyone else I hold dear. Still, then suddenly, a depth charge went off inside his head. A psychic explosion started at the roots of his being and radiated up and out, ripping through every cell in his body. With the pain and shock being so tense that he lost his grip on the side of the building and plummeted to the ground, it was only his reflex that spared him from a fall that might have killed him. Maybe he would be better off if it actually had.

 

Because that 'explosion' opened up a door in his mind, and he knew with all his heart and soul that everything he thought proper about himself was, in fact, a lie, he wanted to deny it and repress it. He tried to dig a grave ten miles deep and bury it down there forever, but he couldn't, and all he could do to lessen the pain was to scream the truth out into the heart of the storm.

 

"I'M NOT PETER PARKER!"

 

He started to rage. He threw a tantrum. He kicked. He screamed. He wept. He howled.

 

He prayed.

 

He was alone, an un-man haunted by recollections of an un-life. He may be in the body of Peter Parker or maybe even a clone of Peter Parker, but that didn't matter; the man in that apartment was more Peter Parker than he will ever be regardless of who the clone was, simply because he himself was no longer Peter Parker. He awoke in that smokestack alone and confused, and he had to rely on the powers of the spider to get out, Peter Parker's powers; those memories took the forefront of his mind and convinced him that he was still Peter Parker with extra memories from another life added to his head which was reaffirmed by the fact that he was in Peter Parker's body dressed as Spider-Man.

 

But then he saw the other Peter in the apartment with Mary Jane, and the dissonance in his mind exploded and brought out his true reason, which was a perfect blend of Peter Parker's mind and the mind of a man from another universe; he had read stories in his previous life about people who magically took over other peoples bodies and assumed their lives and entirely became that person, but what are you supposed to do when the person whose body you took over still exists and continues to live their life and you are in an exact copy of that body and have had your mind merged with his. He fell to his knees right there in the alley and prayed right there in the rain, for help, for even a shred of hope.

 

He knew what needed to be done; he had to collect his memories and pack his bag of stolen thoughts, and leave. Leave Aunt May and Mary Jane, The Bugle and ESU, his friends and his enemies, himself. Because they belonged to Peter Parker, and Peter Parker was alive while he was dead and buried, and somehow in the years of wandering to come, he was going to have to resurrect himself and become someone else, but right now, he needed time, time to process and time to figure out where to go from here.

 


 

So he just spent a few hours sitting on top of a roof across from his own apartment, Peter's apartment, and watching everything that was going on inside while trying to process his life; it really put things into perspective watching Peter and seeing the differences and similarities between them which were numerous and frustrating. Peter spent the last few hours inside his apartment moping about his circumstances and ignoring Mary Jane before getting some shuteye, things that he found pathetic and ridiculous since one half of his consciousness was now made up from the mind of a man who wouldn't let himself be stopped by things like guilt or pity, he was a man who placed himself foremost and made the most of all resources available to him.

 

It would actually not be correct to say half of him because that is not technically correct; instead of having half of the mind of that man and half of the mind of Peter Parker, he had both minds, instead of it being 1/2 plus a 1/2 it was in actual fact 1 plus 1 which equalled 2. He was that man from the other universe, and he was Peter Parker, and because of that, he is neither now; he is someone new because that man and Peter Parker were both individuals, and now he is both of those individuals.

 

He now had the best and the worst of both worlds; he had Peter Parker's morals, compassion, kindness, guilt, intelligence and heart along with the man's selfishness, ruthlessness, single-mindedness, ambition and willingness to do whatever it takes. He had no doubt that if he were only made up of that man's mind now, then he would be plotting to kill the Peter Parker inside the apartment and assume his life driven by his self-preservation and selfishness; he also had no doubt that if he were only made up of Peter Parker's mind now, then he would be running away without a plan giving up all aspects of his life including Spider-Man and his powers driven by his guilt and his willingness for self-sacrifice.

 

It was a good thing that he wasn't made up of only one of them, or he would be making some pretty stupid or evil decisions right now, but instead, he is now being cautious and taking a measure of the situation before deciding on what course of action to take. Still, it killed him to see Peter inside the apartment be so callous and at arm's length with Mary Jane as he still harboured deep feelings for her, as diluted as they might be after combining both his memories together (no doubt that Peter inside the apartment feels what he feels a thousand time more even if he doesn't see that at the moment), but regardless Mary Jane loved Peter Parker and not him. It seems that Peter has woke up and decided to get a move one, and he does so in a regular fashion as he shoots off across the Ney York skyline dressed as Spider-Man; he quickly follows, wanting to gather as much information as possible and discover what exactly happened after the jumbotron exploded and collapsed on him and if anyone would know then it would be Spider-Man.

 

He follows Peter at a distance relying on his enhanced abilities and senses to keep track of him and not web-swinging as that would be pretty eye-catching and he doesn't want Peter to know about his existence, and he knows precisely how Peter operates and moves, having once been him, so it is easy to predict his movements and devise paths to stay out of his eye line, spider-sense only picks up on danger, and he wishes Peter no trouble so he should be safe on that front, but he is so used to web-swinging that he finds it challenging to keep up with Peter (how does Daredevil do it?), but eventually he figures out his own way which generally just relies on having the high ground and then using his high intelligence to quickly map out his surroundings in the few seconds he is up there and then retaining that information and using it as he tailed Peter making sure to keep as high as possible to continue mapping possible routes and passages.

 

Eventually, the buildings get smaller and smaller, making it more difficult to track Peter undetected and finally, they have to cross a bridge with Peter swinging across the top of it and him below running along the underneath of the bridge to remain undetected; they are both in Queens now, and there are smaller buildings and trees here which means Peter has to slow down which means he has to take more care in remaining undetected which he does by running along buildings and roofs facing away from Peter. They arrive at a gated area which he knows to be a cemetery on account of knowing a few of the people laid to rest inside, and he has to awkwardly hide and wait in a tree as Peter ducks behind some bushes in the cemetery and changes back into his civvies, once Peter finishes changing he resumes on to his destination at a more leisurely pace, and it doesn't take long to figure out where he is headed, and he is proven right when Peter approaches a woman kneeling down and placing flowers in front of a gravestone which holds the name of Gwen Stacy, of course, it is a surprise to see that the woman in front of the grave is also Gwen Stacy.

 

Peter stands next to her in silence, and she notices him, but neither start a conversation with her continuing to sort out the flowers in front of the grave and Peter starting to stare listlessly at the grave, lost in memories, the presence of Gwen's clone means that the situation is most likely dealt with and considering The Jackal's obsession with her I doubt he would let her go so quickly which means that The Jackal is no longer my problem and if he somehow did survive then it will be Peter's job to stop him, after all, he is no longer Spider-Man even if he is wearing the suit at the moment. He watches as they continue to mourn in silence and how he wishes to be there instead of him and feel what he feels, but the simple fact of the matter is that he no longer feels as much as the man down there does, even as he stares at Gwen's clone all he feels is slight sadness and attraction which is no doubt the very muted feelings of Peter Parker and the one down there feels this a thousand more times than him, he doesn't have time to think about it anymore as Gwen's clone acknowledges Peter.

 

"I have to think of her... As someone else, Peter. Someone I knew a long time ago when we were both... very young. Was she the real Gwen Stacy... Or am I? Now I know how Spider-Man felt last night..."

 

She finally finishes fiddling with the flowers in front of the grave and stands to her feet, and turns to Peter; he, in turn, reaches his arm out to grasp her shoulder in a show of comfort.

 

"Confused... Frightened. Everyone has that moment when they wonder about themselves, Peter. About who they are, deep inside. I think, I think it would be better for both of us if we didn't pretend to be the same people we were when Peter Parker loved Gwen Stacy... And she loved him. I wish I could know you the way she knew you, Peter, but I can't. Because I can't... This is goodbye."

 

She takes him by surprise and kisses his cheek while caressing the other; Peter tries to turn to her, desperate to say something, but before he can, Gwen pushes his face away.

 

"Don't say it, Peter. Turn your head... And please, don't look back."

 

Saying so, she turns around and picks up her luggage before walking to the cemetery road where a taxi waits for her, she gets inside of it, and the cab moves along the road and out of the cemetery. Peter stays still and looks down forlornly at Gwen Stacy's grave and sheds a tear. Meanwhile, he watches from a tree, unsure of what he feels; suddenly, multiple police sirens can be heard in the distance, and Peter quickly wipes his tear away and checks his surroundings before running off into the woods in the direction pulling his shirt apart revealing the iconic suit beneath. He too, feels the urge to run off chasing the sirens, but he fights it off because this is no longer his rodeo because Gwen was right; they shouldn't pretend to be the people they used to be, but if he is no longer Peter Parker then who is he?

 

He decides to go to the place that Peter used to frequent whenever he had a problem or issue he didn't know how to handle, and so he leaps from tree to tree heading towards this special place, and when he arrives, he makes sure no one is around before jumping down and walking towards it, he stands there feeling all sorts of emotions as he stares down at the grave of his Uncle Ben and he can remember all the time before he came here and felt great comfort and peace but also contradictorily felt mass amounts of guilt and regret. Standing there now as the person he now was, he no longer felt such a massive amount of guilt though he did still feel regret; with the perspective of two lives, he now understands that bad things happen to everyone and it is not your fault when things go wrong, even if he could have prevented it there was no way to tell the future and so while he regrets not stopping the thief when he could he also understands that what happened was not his fault.

 

Still, just because he no longer feels such amounts of guilt doesn't mean he is going to stop being the man that his Uncle wanted him to be; he will continue to live by his Uncle's words 'With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility', and after the merging of his two minds, he had even greater power. He will never forget the two people who cared for him and treated him as their own; he will never forget Ben and May Parker because even if he was leaving, they remain his parents (parents he didn't have in his other life) and he will honour them, Ben Parker and May Parker, formerly Reilly.

 

"Thank you for everything..."

 

And so left the man having formed the first part of his new identity, his name... Ben Reilly.

 


 

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