Three hours of sleep flew by like an instant. I woke up exhausted and completely unrested. My first thought was, why the hell did I even need this school? But then I remembered the events of the evening and realized I had to see MJ today.
Scrolling through my contacts, I didn't find her number. And the window of my bedroom didn't face her room like it did in my past world. That meant I would have to leave a little early and wait for her on the street. Why hadn't I thought to get her number yesterday?
Cursing under my breath, I got up and headed to the bathroom. To my surprise, the guy in the mirror didn't look nearly as terrible as I felt. And a shower and breakfast actually got me back on my feet. I almost felt alive.
Grabbing my things, a pen and a notebook, I stepped out onto the porch to drink some coffee, check the news on my phone, and wait for my neighbor to appear. Nothing sensational had leaked into the press overnight. Remembering what I had seen on Mary Jane's computer last night, that dating guide, I decided to look up information about notable men in this world. Even with the total gender imbalance and the consumerist worldview of most men, there had to be exceptions. There had to be.
Music, painting, literature, poetry, and philosophy turned out to be the most popular activities among men. In these fields, men's contributions were the greatest. Salvador Dali, Chopin, Malevich, Edgar Allan Poe, and many other musicians, painters, and writers who had made their names famous in my world had achieved success here too. Science was worse off. Many great male scientists whose names I searched for online were either women here or hadn't pursued science at all. Every list of the greatest men in history was topped by da Vinci, almost the only true male genius and scientist who had managed to realize his potential here as he had in my home world. It was all pretty depressing. My favorite musician, Jackson, was also a woman in this world. She had ended her career after just two songs due to an early pregnancy by some Billy Jean. She had only written two songs, "Dangerous" and "Thriller," never achieving great fame, but she gave the world four daughters and one son. Too bad. I was going to miss Jackson's songs in this world.
Then another thought crossed my mind. Not long ago, supers, mutants, and other Hulks had started appearing in this world. One of the most successful supers so far was the Iron Lady, the scandalous Antonia Stark. But even she had only recently begun her career as a superheroine. However, when I searched for "male superhero," the entire first page of results was filled with links to Steve Rogers. A national hero, a good guy, and the sex symbol of the past century. I smiled. At least Steve had remained a man, not turned into Captain America. I had had enough of Spider Woman, She Hulk, the Iron Lady, and others like them. But he hadn't been thawed out yet. Maybe he hadn't even been found.
How had he managed to become a test subject for the super soldier serum in a world where even being a test pilot or a combat engineer was illegal for men in most countries?
Searching for "modern male superhero" led me to a site with fan fiction written by some hacks, specifically a writing prompt with two hundred thousand likes and six hundred submitted stories. Wow, women were losing their minds. Why was I sure the authors of these stories were women? Almost all of them had sexual themes, in every direction imaginable. And since local men had plenty of partners for real sex, and they usually weren't that interested, why would they need porn stories?
Finally, I heard the front door of the neighbors' house slam, and a disheveled Mary Jane ran out into the street. A stream of colorful curses from a female voice followed her. Oh, Anna Watson's temper in this world was definitely not sweet.
Mary Jane, shrinking her head into her shoulders, endured the reproaches for coming home drunk in the middle of the night, tracking mud on the stairs, and so on. Overall, Aunt Anna was right. She shouldn't have been drinking as much as Thompson. She could have followed my example.
I would have liked to divert Mrs. Watson's anger onto myself, but I couldn't tell her that I had made the mess in the house. That would reveal that MJ hadn't just gotten drunk but had been completely unable to walk on her own. Besides, Mary Jane would feel awkward if she realized someone had heard this scene, especially me.
I loudly slammed my door, locked the house, and stepped out onto the porch, pretending I had just seen the neighbors.
"Mary Jane, Mrs. Watson, good morning," I said, trying to help the girl.
MJ, seeing me, looked embarrassed. She was probably wondering if I had appeared at just the right moment by accident and how much I had heard.
"Hello, Peter," Anna said, instantly changing her tone from anger to kindness. "Going to school too?"
"Yes, Mrs. Watson. Allow me to steal your niece," I said. Anna looked confused. "We need to hurry, or we'll miss the school bus."
"Oh, of course, go ahead," Anna said absently.
"Thanks," Mary Jane whispered when she caught up to me. "Just don't let it go to your head, or I might end up stealing you."
"Oh? What do you mean by that?" I asked with interest.
"What would you like me to mean?" she shot back with a cheeky smile.
Wow. Just look at her.
"Mary Jane Watson," I exclaimed.
"What?" the girl asked, taken aback by my tone.
"Don't get too full of yourself," I said, putting an arm around her and whispering in her ear. "A few kisses and one quick blowjob aren't reason enough to get cocky."
"I..." the suddenly flustered MJ started to object, but I cut her off with a kiss.
She froze, closing her eyes, then wrapped her arms around my neck and began kissing me back, pressing herself against me and letting me enjoy the warmth of her body. We stood like that for a while after we finally broke the kiss.
"Peter," Mary Jane whispered. "Do you really want to... I mean, I never would have thought you would want to be with me..."
"I want you, Mary Jane. Make no mistake about that."
Just then, the yellow school bus rounded the corner, and we had to hurry to the stop to make it on time.
On the way, Thompson's car passed us. The girl even honked provocatively at the bus driver, earning an annoyed mutter and whispers and laughter from the packed bus.
No sooner had we stepped off the bus than Audrey materialized between us, throwing her arms over our shoulders and grinning slyly.
"So, how did it go?" She looked at Mary Jane.
The girl was confused, not understanding what Flash was getting at.
"What are you talking about?" she asked, glancing from me to Flash.
"Don't play dumb," Audrey threatened. "What were you two doing in your room alone with Peter last night?"
"Peter was at my house?" MJ asked in surprise.
"Who do you think carried you home?" Thompson shouted, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. So that was her plan.
At Audrey's shout, other girls began to turn and look at Mary Jane with judgment. Damn. I hadn't thought of that. In this world, this situation was the equivalent of a guy getting blackout drunk on a date and the girl having to carry him home. You fucking bitch Thompson, trying to ruin MJ's reputation. But Flash wasn't done. She kept pouring out the details.
"Carried you, and how. He picked you up like a princess and carried you home. And you didn't even wake up?" She pretended to be surprised. "I hope you didn't puke on his pants."
But Mary Jane didn't back down. She wasn't about to let Audrey publicly humiliate her without a fight.
"That's none of your business," MJ shot back. "Whatever Peter and I do at my house or anywhere else is between the two of us."
"Anywhere else?" Thompson narrowed her eyes.
Watson realized she had said too much, but it was too late to take it back. Apparently, her first sexual experience and my support had given her a new sense of confidence.
Mary Jane narrowed her eyes triumphantly, tossed her red hair, and turned her back on Thompson. When our eyes met, I saw a shadow of doubt in hers. She was afraid I might back out now, that I wouldn't forgive her loose tongue, or that I would simply be too scared to get involved in the conflict. Or maybe, besides these understandable concerns, there were hundreds of other reasons swirling in her head, reasons she thought a man might use to turn away from her. Who knew?
But I didn't care about local customs. I wasn't about to let Thompson humiliate my girlfriend. I smiled approvingly at MJ and stepped toward her. If Mary Jane wanted to show up Thompson, who had been trying and failing to land Harry Osborn for years, I would play along.
"I'm not done with you," Audrey suddenly shouted, feeling the situation slipping out of her control.
She grabbed Mary Jane by the shoulder and jerked her around. The girl spun, and Thompson was already winding up for a punch.
Like I would let that happen. I lunged forward and put myself between them. Thompson's fist hit me square in the chest, knocking the air out of my lungs. It was enough to throw me back a few steps, right into MJ. This Thompson hit just as hard as Eugene. But she hadn't expected her attack to land on a guy. Audrey hesitated and stared dumbly as I nearly fell to the ground with Watson. I moved the shell shocked MJ aside and turned back, rolling my neck and arms, making it clear I was ready to throw down. She just kept staring blankly.
"Parker, I didn't mean to..." Thompson started to apologize, but she wasn't stupid. She cut herself off, realizing that talking wasn't going to solve this.
Because at that moment, my mighty fist was already flying toward her face. Naturally, Thompson easily dodged my slow punch, then another, then another. It wasn't hard when you had room to retreat and your opponent was as slow as Peter Parker without superpowers. The whole place erupted in chaos. The girls were going crazy. What a sight. A scrawny, four eyed boy attacking a huge, athletic girl.
Thompson ran out of room to maneuver. She backed into the lockers. Now or never. But I didn't rush in. Instead, I started taunting her, gesturing for her to make a move. The smart thing for her to do would be not to hit me, to try to get out of the situation. A boy had lost his temper. The main thing was not to hit him, so as not to look like the bad guy. That's what most people would have done in her place.
But this was Flash Thompson. She wouldn't run forever. Her nasty temper wouldn't let her ignore a provocation. No one hit Thompson and got away with it. I remembered that well. Audrey pushed off the lockers and attacked. Hard, swinging wide, putting all her weight and anger into it. One punch like that would have been enough to knock me out, if it had landed.
But I was waiting for it. The problem with that style was that if your target wasn't there, you couldn't stop. Inertia was too great. The force and mass behind the punch started working against you. Only amateurs threw punches like that, or people who were completely sure they would connect.
I did what I always did in fights as Spider Man. I predicted my opponent's movements and dodged. Flash started to fall forward. She was taller than me, so it was easy to grab her forearm and throw her over my shoulder.
I might be weak, but I still knew biomechanics.
Thompson hit the floor hard. She didn't know how to fall properly, but she got lucky. She didn't hit her head. That meant she would get up, and I would have to fight her again. I needed to knock her out now, while she was disoriented.
"What is going on here?" A cold, commanding female voice came from behind me.
I sighed with relief inside. Even if it was Flash Thompson, I still felt reluctant to hit a woman, especially a schoolgirl, that hard. I had no other way to beat her. The teacher had arrived just in time.
I stepped aside and positioned myself so I could speak to Sarasti but also keep an eye on Thompson getting up. I knew that in her rage, she wouldn't hesitate to hit me from behind.
"I have several theories about what happened," I said quickly. "But the current situation doesn't allow me to go into them all. I'll keep it simple. I didn't start it. I don't know why Thompson attacked me."
Thompson, trying to add weight to my words, got up and charged again, apparently thinking a second attempt would be more productive than the first.
I disagreed, but I didn't need to say anything. Yukka stepped toward her, caught Audrey's fist with one hand, and stopped her cold.
Everyone froze. Even Thompson stared in disbelief at her fist, now trapped in Sarasti's slender grip.
"What the..." Thompson started, but her indignation turned into a scream of pain.
Sarasti twisted her hand and arm in a painful lock. An inexperienced observer might have thought Yukka was a skilled fighter pulling off a move. But I could see clearly. She had simply twisted Thompson's arm with the strength and inevitability of a robot.
"Everyone, disperse," Sarasti ordered. "Parker, with me to the principal's office."
"Wait," Mary Jane stepped in front of Yukka. "Thompson started this. She attacked me. Peter was just defending me."
"All three of you, to the principal's office," Sarasti amended.
Mary Jane was very nervous. Thompson was furious, but since her arm was still trapped in Sarasti's grip, she could only complain, and not very loudly. I was calm. This wasn't my first time.
Seeing our group at her door, the principal sighed heavily, anticipating another headache.
"Yukka, I think you can let go of Miss Thompson's arm now," the principal said. And so began the long explanation of what had happened.
Thanks to a whole crowd of witnesses and Thompson's unstable behavior when the teacher arrived, Mary Jane and I got off easy. Just three days of suspension each. Flash got two weeks.
After all, no one had actually been hurt. I didn't mention my bruised chest. Surprisingly, even Rosie Thompson, who was called in by the principal, didn't try to throw her weight around when she found out her daughter had gotten into a fight with a boy.
Mary Jane was still upset about the suspension. That was understandable, given her Aunt Anna's nasty temper. I tried to talk the principal into canceling Watson's punishment, arguing that MJ hadn't participated in the fight and hadn't responded to Thompson's provocations. But it was no use. The principal not only refused, but she also demonstratively called Anna Watson right in front of us and told her that her niece was being suspended for fighting.
I didn't like that gesture. Mary Jane went pale, imagining what awaited her at home. So I called Mrs. Watson myself. To do that, I had to brazenly look up her number in the principal's contacts. I asked her to come pick up Mary Jane and me from school, since we had been suspended together.
When Anna arrived, angry as a thousand Osborns, I met her at the entrance and led her to the principal's office. She didn't dare yell at me. Once we were inside, I made the principal tell MJ's aunt the whole story. Only then did we leave for home. On the way, forced to listen to my assurances of Mary Jane's complete innocence, Anna calmed down. By the end, she even chided Mary Jane for letting a boy fight for her while she stood on the sidelines. That was a victory, because Anna was contradicting herself, and she knew it.
No matter how much I wanted to spend the rest of the day basking in my girlfriend's admiration, after a long conversation with our two aunts, my relatives had also been called by the principal, so Mary Jane had to go to her room. Anna had found out about the test results. The real results. She also found out that because of MJ, I had gotten a C. MJ had let it slip while telling Anna and Aunt May how wonderful I was. So, she needed to study. After getting MJ's number, I went home. I tried to get Aunt May to talk about my father. I told her part of what I had learned from Connors and tried to steer her toward the idea that Richard's old things might be useful. But it was no use. Finally, I asked her directly and learned that my parents had disappeared suddenly and hadn't left any keys or information about a storage container. After saying goodbye to Aunt May and listening to a lecture about how violence doesn't solve problems, I was finally alone.
My first stop after school was the hospital where Stans was being held. I confirmed she was still alive and not going anywhere. Then I went to Connors's lab. The door was unlocked, and I walked right in.
As I had thought, the woman was asleep at her workbench, her face buried in a notebook full of notes. In front of her, the SEM was humming. A computer nearby displayed a 3D model of a test subject and a string of formulas.
This woman had made incredible progress in just one day. I was amazed as I scrolled through the test initiation history on her computer. Connors had tried over two hundred different variations of the combined formulas. And each one required preliminary calculations. Oh, this part was almost identical to Connors's very first serum, the one that had created the Lizard. If it weren't for her attempts to improve it with the Richard Parker development that had fallen into her hands, she could have already reached the final stage. No, it was exactly the new data that had allowed Connors to make a breakthrough. On her own, it would have taken her several months, if not years, to get to this point.
Too bad we didn't have a better computer model for testing. I knew it was stupid to dream of an ideal model. That would be like complaining about the lack of a calculator if I had been sent back to ancient times. But after working with the supercomputers of the Golden Age, which, though based on the architecture of our time, had a completely different order of power, I had gotten used to the good life. By that time, people had truly pushed old technologies to their limits. Just think of the touch panels that covered literally everything back in that world, even cigarette packs and toilet paper, not to mention the working mathematical model of Earth's development.
If I had access to a computer like that, I could create a perfect model of the human body and run virtual tests. How much more reliable and faster would my work be in that case. Then I could combine the best parts of the working formulas I knew for improving the human body.
The model Connors was using now wasn't trustworthy. It didn't account for too many variables. As a result, a serum that worked in theory turned out to have terrible side effects. But Kurt was to blame. He knew the model was imperfect and that multiple animal tests were necessary. But he went straight from computer models and mouse experiments to human trials without even waiting to see how stable Algernon was.
Even now, with all my knowledge, far exceeding what Connors had, I couldn't create a 100% reliable super soldier formula, let alone combine it with Karen's formula. But I could churn out dozens of variants with unpredictable consequences for test subjects. Hand over a resume to Hydra right now. And after a couple hundred failed attempts, I would have one or even more working formulas.
A good test model, resources, and suitable test subjects close to humans, that was what I needed to perfect the formula. If necessary, one thing could compensate for the lack of another.
I could also get a 100% working serum for acquiring, and not just any powers, but my old ones, even without any additional resources. But for that, I needed one small thing. Spider Woman. Oh, I had studied myself well enough in my past life. The nature of the powers I had acquired had puzzled me for a long time. It took me a very long time to realize that they were fundamentally different from any other power that could be reasonably explained by science.
That was how I learned about one amazing feature of the powers the spider had given me. They could be extracted and transferred to another person. How about that? A mutation that could be taken, sealed in a vial, and then given to someone else? How could that be explained from a scientific standpoint? Mysticism, plain and simple. Especially if you considered where that feature of my spider powers could have come from. As if it wasn't about altered genes at all, but about some unknown source that gave me those powers.
Of course, I wouldn't use most of those options, even if I had the chance. It wasn't in my principles to conduct mass experiments on people or take powers away from this Spider Woman. Not unless she gave me a reason herself.
But you work with what you have. Since I didn't have the resources to create something grand, nor an amoral Spider to take powers from without hesitation, I had to settle for crumbs. From the super soldier formula, you could isolate another derivative, the Longevity Formula. The same one they used on Nick Fury and Natasha Romanoff. The Longevity Formula was part of the super soldier formula. It slowed aging, strengthened the immune system, and did a bunch of other small things. Notably, those who took it got into physical shape faster when they trained. This formula had another drawback, which was actually an advantage right now. Its effect was temporary. I could use it until I found something better, then flush it out of my system without consequences. The Longevity Formula was also convenient because it didn't require Vita Rays. I suspected that was why the effect was temporary. And I could try to improve it using Connors's research or something else. That way, even if I made a miscalculation, the side effects wouldn't stay with me forever. As long as they weren't fatal. That didn't mean I would skip testing stages and inject myself right away.
Without waking Connors, I used her lab to synthesize the Longevity Formula. But I was interrupted near the end. The door opened, and yesterday's guest walked in.
Gwen.
She looked a bit disheveled and agitated, which didn't detract from her beauty one bit.
"Oh, it's you, Parker," she recognized me. "Here to see Connors again?"
"Something like that. She was asleep when I got here. What are you here for? Work?"
"Not exactly. It's seven in the evening. The professor had a lecture ten minutes ago. I tried calling, but she didn't answer. So I came to check." Gwen walked over to me, looking at the mess I had made of the lab.
"I think she worked with the new data until morning, or even later, and just fell asleep at some point."
"Right, that formula of yours. Is it really that important?" the girl asked distrustfully.
"You would know more if you hadn't run off so quickly yesterday," I smirked.
Stacy made a displeased face and again tried to explain her departure without explaining anything.
"I had things to do. I really couldn't stay."
She had a secret, and she was hiding it clumsily. It reminded me of myself in the early days of becoming Spider Man. And she had the right build for it.
"What is that?" Gwen asked in surprise, seeing the hundreds of formulas under Connors's model. "I barely understand... no, I don't understand any of it. How could she have gotten this far in just a couple of days?"
"It's what you ran away from yesterday," I said, remembering how hard she had squeezed my hand. Just like me, before I learned to control my strength in everyday life.
"Your data?" the girl asked in surprise. "What could possibly be in there?"
"Oh, just my chemistry homework." That didn't prove anything. Even that appearing on a TV show was totally in character for Gwen.
"Right, you're a high school student," Gwen drawled. In this world, she was older than me and already in college. "And what are you doing now? More homework?"
At that very moment, the traitorous centrifuge stopped spinning, and the clamp with the test tube extended from its slot. Gwen's eyes narrowed dangerously, and she reached for my formula. But I was closer. I snatched the vial before she could.
"You shouldn't stick your pretty little nose into other people's research," I said, putting the vial in my inner pocket.
But Stacy wasn't fazed by such a simple compliment. She suspected me of something. I just couldn't figure out what. Why was she so suspicious of me? Why was she acting like her sixth sense was telling her to be wary?
"Let's wake the professor," I tried to change the subject. "She shouldn't be sleeping in the lab when she has a family at home. I suggest we forcefully but kindly send her home."
"Do you think you can talk her into it?" the girl backed off.
"I'll try." I walked over to Karen and clapped my hands loudly near her ear.
No reaction.
I did it again, louder, cupping my hands. The sound was deafening, but the woman slept like a baby.
"You can't even wake her up," Gwen said smugly.
I grabbed the back of the chair, shook it hard, and barked a short, sharp command.
"ROOM, TEN HUT." I sounded just like a drill sergeant.
Even Stacy flinched, though I wasn't shouting at the top of my lungs. My voice just came out surprisingly threatening and low with that method.
Connors jumped up and looked around wildly. A deep seated army instinct had kicked in. Seeing us, she looked embarrassed at first, then angry.
"Don't you ever do that again."
"If you had gone home to sleep like you promised yesterday evening, I wouldn't have had to wake you up," I shrugged.
Connors glanced quickly at the screen, remembered what she had been working on, and perked up.
"I just couldn't leave. You understand, this is the work of my life. I have to..."
"Stop," I cut her off. "You're not acting rationally, Professor. The formulas are already in your possession. They aren't going anywhere. But you just missed your lecture, and I'm sure you didn't even let your family know you wouldn't be coming home."
Karen lost all her enthusiasm for arguing when I mentioned her family.
"Go home. You'll have time to work. You need proper rest." I kept pressing. "Come back with a clear head. By then, Stans might have woken up, and there might be new data."
"Yes, you're right. I haven't been home in over a day." Connors massaged her forehead with her good hand, then looked at me again. "Peter, thank you. For the formula and for understanding. I would like to invite you to my house to talk about your parents, but I don't think it would be right to do so so suddenly."
"I understand, Professor. Give me your number so we can coordinate and share new data." Then I turned to Stacy. "Gwen, this is the second time we've run into each other here. If we're going to be seeing a lot of each other, we should get properly acquainted. Want to grab a bite to eat?"
A look of surprised admiration appeared on Karen's face. She probably didn't often see a guy ask a girl out so directly.
"That sounds nice," Gwen hesitated. "But let's do it another time. I have to go."
The surprise on Connors's face doubled.
"I understand," I drawled, then added just loud enough for her to hear. "The spotlights are calling..."
"Excuse me?" Stacy tensed.
"Nothing. Some other time, then." Spider Girl.