Chapter 85 - Part 5/5

  Arc 7 - Ch 2: Opening Day

  Date: Monday, August 29, 2011.

  Loidtown, Manhattan, New York

  The waiter returo their table, notepad in hand, as the sun began to desd towards the horizon. Tyson ordered dessert for himself and Jessica. The hours they had spent in the restaurant had flown by. As the waiter retreated, Tyson's expression grew more serious.

  "After dessert, I'll have to head to House of M and prepare for tonight's show." after a moment's hesitation, he added, "And Mago."

  "I'm ing, you know," Jessica stated, leaving no room fument.

  "Alright." Tyson agreed with little fuss. Jessica's eyes narrowed in suspi. He tinued with an amused tone. "Do you have a nice dress? It's a premiere for an exclusive show. Tonight is a red carpet event." Jessica licked her teeth in annoyance as she realized the implications. Tyson immediately offered. "We'll get you something to wear on the way, then."

  "I don't want you to buy me a dress," she protested.

  "It wouldn't be the first time I buy a dress. I get them all the time." he tered, "If it's an issue, we'll get you a suit instead. Tail is going to be tight, but you're tall for a woman, model proportions. We might be able to get something off the rack that fits."

  Jessica asked, annoyed, "How many of the girls you bought dresses for were yirlfriends?"

  Tyson stopped to think about it. "None? I don't think I've ever bought a dress for my girlfriend." He actually frow the realization and ticked off his fio be sure. "I got dresses for Illyana, but I didn't have any money back then. I used my powers to acquire them, I didn't pay. With Jean and Jubilee, I bought them dresses for the first House of M premier, but that was before Jubilee and I were dating. Nat… Miss Rushman, I bought her a pair of dresses. One was for a date, but officially we never dated… Damn, I've never bought my girlfriend a dress. That's weird. Jubilee bought her own dress for tonight, but I paid for it. So, one?"

  "One. Final answer," he said with certainty.

  Jessica shook her head, frustration evident i of her shoulders.

  "Look, Jess. I pay Peter royalties for doing his story at House of M. He fought against it at first, but this has worked out for him." His mismatched eyes searched her face as he asked, "How have you beeing by?"

  "I deliver pizza and ese food and sell pictures of my a shots to Jameson."

  The familiarity of her response reminded him of things Peter had done in the Spider-Man movies. Was this some kind of ic corre? Had Jessica faced the hardship he'd spared Peter?

  "Let me help you." Jessica shook her head, stubbornly denying his offer, but he pressed on. "You've been helping people out there. You could be doing that more instead of delivering pizzas. And you don't o sell pictures of yourself."

  Jessica's eyes fshed as she poi him acgly. "It's not like that," she said, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

  Tyson held up his hands pgly. "And I don't mean it like that," he assured her. "What I'm saying is, I help. It's not a big deal."

  Jessica looked unvinced, her eyes narrowing as she studied Tyson's face. Reizing her skepticism, Tyson ged tactics. "Fine. You want to be stubborn. I'm not you a handout. I'm you a job."

  "A job?" she asked skeptically.

  As their dessert arrived, they grabbed spoons and begaing.

  "If you're like Peter, I know you're smart," he said between bites. "I like hiring smart people. Felicia does all my administration stuff... Well, she did until she was kidnapped."

  "I don't want to be your secretary."

  "It's not that. There's more at House of M besides the shows I run. Dr. Curt ors…"

  "The Lizard?" Jessiterrupted, her voice filled with surprise. "What about him?"

  Tyson knew he was treading into sensitive territory, so he chose his words carefully. "Remember how I said I used my powers to... assist in altering others' worldview? Well, ors po turire city into Lizards. I vinced him, with my powers, to cure himself until he could perfect his serum. And he did. Now he works with me at House of M. I did the same with Ivan Vanko. I vinced him to st to kill Tony Stark and work with me."

  Jessica stared at him, her dessert fotten as she processed this information. "You're mind-trolling the vilins you enter and turning them into your staff?"

  Tyson held up his hand in a so-so gesture. "I'm not holding them captive or anything. ors is back living with his family, sans Lizard-induced psychosis. All his issues and research stemmed from wanting trow his arm so he could py ball with his kid, and now he , all the while w with me and making a sary equal to what he did at Oscorp. And Vanko doesn't have a vea against Stark anymore. He's w on energy projects and being my resident tinkerer."

  "And what would I be doing?" she asked cautiously.

  "Whatever you want. Patrol and help people, work in the b, whatever. I don't mianage. If I need something, I ask. Otherwise, I don't care."

  Jessica mulled over his words, her spoon idly stirring the remains of her dessert. "I'm not sure, but I'll think about it."

  "Since we're doing, let's go," she said, pushie aside.

  "Dress shopping," she crified. Tyson's face broke into a wide grin.

  As they stood to leave, Jessica felt a hint of trepidation. Tyson's world was far more plex and nuahan she had imagined. Magic, gods, superpowers, all filled with shades of gray that challenged her bd-white notions of heroes and vilins.

  And she would be stepping into it wearing a dress.

  They made their way out of the restaurant and into the streets. As they approached a high-end boutique, Jessica hesitated, her earlier reservations resurfag. Tyson, sensing her unease, pced a gentle hand on her shoulder.

  "Look. I know this is a lot to take in. All the ges in your life. The job offer, all of it. But I want you to know I'm n to ge or trol you. I want to give you the opportunity to be the best version of yourself, whatever that looks like."

  Jessica met his gaze, searg his mismatched eyes for any sign of deception. Finding only siy, she felt some of her tension ease. "I appreciate that. It's just I'm still trying to figure out who I am, you know? And don't get it twisted. I'm here because I chose to be. That and Jubilee strongarmed you into telling me what was going on."

  "That's fair," he said. "And I promise, whatever you decide, I'll support you. You should've seen hohen I tried to discover myself. Robbed the damn Federal Reserve fodsakes."

  She felt truly seen and uood for the first time since waking up in that b.

  "Alright," she said, smiling. "Let's find me a dress.'"

  Tyson ughed, his tone warm and genuine. "Now that's a mission I get behind," he said, gesturing with a flourish towards the boutique's entrance.

  — Rogue Redemption —

  Inside Oscorp Tower, the interior walls were adorned with rge ss dispying the pany's test teological advas and breakthroughs iic research. Employees in crisp, white b coats and tailored business attire hurried through every floor.

  Gwen Stacy rushed toward the closing elevator doors on floor sixty-three. "Oh, hold that! you hold that, please?" she called out.

  The doors were closing, but a man stuck his hands between them, causing the sensors to halt their progress. "I got it," a voice from ihe elevator assured her as he held the doors open.

  It was the end of her shift, and Gwen stepped ihe elevator, her eyes falling upon a bck man with a terrible b-over and gsses. "Thank you," she said, him a grateful smile. "You're a real gentleman. Most people would have just let those close."

  The maurned her smile, his eyes kling behind his gsses. "Most people don't notice other people. Um... I'm Max. Max Dillon."

  "I'm Gwen. o meet you," she replied, extending her hand for a friendly shake.

  "o meet you," he echoed, accepting her handshake with a slightly nervous grip.

  As the elevator desded, she noticed a card in Max's hand, adorned with the words 'Happy Birthday' in colorful lettering. "Is it your birthday?"

  Max gnced down at the card, a hint of embarrassment crossing his features. "Oh, yeah. Well, I... They... Friends of mine made this card for me."

  "Oh, that's so nice. Well, happy birthday!"

  The s embedded in the elevator flickered to life, dispying the test news headlihe anentiohe premiere of a new show at the House of M that evening, capturing Max's attention.

  "I have tickets," he said excitedly. "I'm going to the show tonight. You know, Mirage saved my life oime. Out of all the people in the whole city, he saved me. A superhero said he needed me."

  A flicker of sadness passed wen's features. She gained an introspective look as Max's words resonated with her, reminding her of her plicated retionship with Peter, a superhero, the man behind the Spider-Man mask.

  "That must be a good feeling," she replied, her voice tinged with a subtle mencholy. She wondered if Peter truly needed her or if his heroic alter-ego would always take prece over their retionship.

  The elevator stopped on floor forty-five, and the doors slid open, revealing a man with slick bck hair waiting oher side. He stepped inside, his eyes immediately log onto Max.

  "Hey, Dillon, just the man I was looking for. I'm going to need you to stay te tonight. There's a current flow problem in the biogenesis b. Why don't you take a look at that?"

  Max's disappoi was evident on his face. "It's my birthday. Everybody else is leaving. Why do I have to stay?"

  Gwen reized the stist interrupting Max's birthday pns. Mr. Smythe was one of the senior project managers. His father was a lead stist at Oscorp.

  Smythe patted Max on the shoulder. "Because you're special. No one knows the system like you si was your design. It won't take long, I'm sure."

  Several more people ehe elevator, crowding the spad pushing Max towards the doors. He struggled to maintain his position, his eyes dartiween Smythe and Gwen as he was forced out.

  "Mr. Smythe," Max tried to protest, but the chatter of the other passengers drowned out his voice.

  As the doors began to close, Smythe waved dismissively. "Happy birthday," he said, his tone g siy.

  Sensing Max's deje, Gwen called out to him, "Happy Birthday! It was o meet you, Max!"

  The doors shut, leaving Max standing alone in the hallway. He mumbled to himself. "She remembered my name."

  Gwen leaned against the cramped elevator wall, her thoughts drifting to Peter and their challenges. As the elevator tis dest, Gwen closed her eyes, her mind repying Max's words. She wondered if Peter truly uood the impact he had on the lives he touched as Spider-Man. Maybe he did. Maybe that was why they weren't together.

  The elevator reached the ground floor, and Gweered the bustling lobby. She made her way towards the exit, her heart heavy with the realization that his double life would always plicate her retionship with Peter. She khat loving a hero meant accepting the sacrifices and uaihat came with it, but in moments like when the imposter arrived at her home, she couldn't help but wonder if the price was too high. As she pushed through the revolving doors and stepped onto the busy New York street, Gwen took a deep breath. She gnced up at the t skyscrapers surrounding her. In a city filled with heroes and vilins, she knew Peter, and maybe herself, would always be tested, but she held onto the hope that someday, they would find a way to bahe demands of their lives.

  Gwen pulled out her phone and began typing a text to Peter, asking if he was willing to meet her that evening.

  Baside, Max ehe bioelectrogenesis b. The hum of maery and the soft gurgling of water filled the air, creating an eerie ambiance. A puterized female voice spoke in the background, its words choppy and skipping, "The G…G…geion of electricity by living anisms to F…F…fend off..."

  Max pulled a pair of gsses from his pocket and slipped them onto his face. "Let's see what's going on with you," he said to the puter.

  He approached a rge tank filled with geically modified electric eels unduting ier. Max tapped the gss gently, speaking to the creatures in a friendly tone, "Hey, guys... At least somebody's partying."

  The female voice tinued, its words fragmented, "The geically ma… maniputed..."

  Max said, "All right," over the glitchy audio. His focus was drawn to a small terminal nearby. The s flickered with statid the dispy was distorted and unstable. Gng up, Max noticed a tangle of wires sparking iwalks far above. "Just a little sick. Mm-hm," he muttered before a small smile sprouted. "I got your medie, though."

  He began climbing the dders, his hands gripping the rungs tightly as he scaled the floors to reach the problem. As he asded, he mumbled to himself, frustration seeping into his voice, "I'm so sick that I 't get to my birthday. After all that I put together for this pany. Desighe grid..."

  Reag the catwalk, a web of hanging wires surrounded him, their insution frayed and exposed. The puterized female voice chimed in, "Warning. Malfun ior 5A."

  Max replied, his words more for himself than the puter, "I know. Just a little iion... I bet you didn't know it was my birthday, huh, did you? Think you sing 'Happy Birthday' for me? I'll just have to sing it for myself."

  Log the problem's source, Max pulled a walkie-talkie from his belt. "Gilbert?" he called out, his voice crag through the device.

  A gruff voice replied, "What?"

  "It's Max. we shut down power oor 32, please?"

  Gilbert's response was curt and dismissive, "Fet it. I'm out the door."

  "What do you mean? I'm up here. It's dangerous."

  "Sorry, Max," Gilbert replied, though his voice was devoid of sympathy. The li dead, leaving Max aloh the crag static.

  "Hello?" Max asked, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. Met with silence, he mumbled, "Fine, I'll do it myself. And sing my birthday song, too."

  He climbed onto the catwalk's railing, bang precariously as he reached for the disected duit.

  "This is crazy," he muttered under his breath, but began to sing, "Happy birthday... To... Me." He paused, chug, "I should have stretched first." Max resumed his impromptu song, "Happy birthday, dear Max."

  With a deep breath, Max grasped ead of the duit, the live wires sparking and hissing in his hands.

  He reected the two ends with a soft click.

  Staring at the e for a moment, he braced himself for the worst. But there were no explosions, no violent shocks. Max allowed himself a small smile, a flicker of relief washing over him, prompting him to finish the song.

  "Happy birthday. To me."

  Carefully, he slotted the duit bato its rack. As the wires clicked into pce, a surge of electricity began to flow through his body, and sparks danced across his skin. Max screamed, his muscles vulsing untrolbly as the current coursed through him.

  His footing on the railing faltered, and he slipped, plummeting not onto the catwalk but down the side of the wire-liower, level by level. The electricity rendered him helpless as he fell. His muscles locked, and he couldn't move or attempt to arrest his dest.

  Max's screams echoed through the b as he fell. His body twisted and torted as the live wires still clutched in his hands relentlessly raricity through him.

  With a siing spsh, Max nded iank housing the geically modified electric eels. The water ed and frothed as the eels swarmed around him, drawn to the electrical disturbance.

  Electricity crackled and arced between Max and the eels in a deadly power exge. The water iank began to bubble and boil, the gss straining uhe immense pressure. The eels were driven into a frenzy. They attacked Max, their bites leaving deep, bloody gashes in his skin. The build-up of energy reached a critical point, and with a deafening crack, the tank shattered, sending a torrent of water and thrashing eels casg onto the floor.

  The water spread across the ground. Amidst the debris and flopping bodies of the eels, Max's ravaged body y motionless.

  The puterized female voice, oblivious to the horror that had unfolded, decred in a calm, monotonous tone, devoid of the previous stuttering, "System restored. Have a nice day."

  As if ohe power in Oscorp Tower flickered and died, plunging the building into darkness.

  — Rogue Redemption —

  The sun was setting when Gwen looked across the crowd a eyes with Peter, who was making his way toward her.

  "Hey," he said warmly with a hint of nervousness.

  "Hey."

  He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket but ig. Whoever it was calling could wait.

  "You look amazing," he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.

  Gwen ducked her head, blushing faintly. "I'm sorry for the spontaneous outreach. It was kind of..."

  "No. I don't... I..." Peter stumbled over his words, trying to find the right thing to say. "Spontaneous... is all right. You know."

  "Well, I just figured it was time. You know?" Peter smiled, his heart swelling with hope and uainty. Then Gwen finished, "Time that we try to be friends."

  Peter's smile faded. "Friends, yeah. That's... great."

  Gwen sehe shift in his demeanor and quickly added, "I just don't want us to be plicated."

  "I was just saying that to someone. I hate plicated," Peter replied, trying to mask the twinge of sadness in his voice.

  "Keep it simple," Gwen agreed.

  "Okay, great. Yeah, yeah. All right." Peter started walking. "Well, I mean...Ha, ha. If we're gonna be friends, I thita establish some ground rules."

  "Some ground rules?"

  "Yeah, some ground rules," Peter firmed. Gwen chuckled. "Like that," Peter said, pointing at her.

  "Like what?" Gwen asked fused.

  "That ugh," Peter crified. "That ugh. That's off the table."

  "My ugh is off the table?"

  "Off the table," Peter reiterated, fighting back a grin. "You gotta figure out a more annoying ugh." Gwen attempted to ugh more annoyingly. The sound came out forced and exaggerated. He shook his head. "That's still adorable."

  "That was not adorable," Gwen defended, her lips pursed in modignation.

  "It's adorable," Peter insisted.

  "Okay. I have a ground rule. Um..."

  Peter's smile widened. "Oh, good. What is it?"

  "Uh... Don't tell me that I look amazing with y brown doe eyes. Okay? I'm really serious about that one."

  Peter's heart skipped a beat, but he quickly recovered. "Oh, no. I just figured out the ground rule."

  "What?" Gwen asked.

  "No more of this," Peter said, gesturing to his nose. "No more of this little nose rub that you do."

  Gwen instinctively reached up to rub her nose, a habit she hadn't even realized she had. "This? What am I supposed to do? It's allergy season," she joked.

  Peter threw his hands up in mock exasperation. "This is killing me. You're just spitting in the fay ground rules. I'm out." He turned and began walking away with exaggerated, theatrical steps.

  Gwe out a genuine, carefree ugh. "e on."

  Peter spun around with a grin pstered on his face. He walked back to her, announg, "First, we get ice cream, and then I'm out."

  Her smile matched his as she agreed, "Deal."

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