Location: New York City
Date: Saturday, January 21st, 1989
Mark POV:
Mark spent his morning distracted as he worked to repair his mask.
The outside material had melted, but after pealing it off the rest was mostly salvageable. As he got to work he briefly thought about if he should even bother hiding his face from the other heroes.
But his attention quickly drifted to magic, or more specifically the existence of the wizarding world.
He did not understand why it was here in Marvel. The amount of information he received while dead was quite light, 'Maybe the barriers between universes was more seriously damaged for some worlds and they could not survive on there own...?'
He was not sure, but the only think he really knew about the wizarding world was in Britain. So he could not even confirm it was the Harry Potter world he knew until he could check.
That thought brought him up short as he realized the obvious, 'Harry. He should be living at the Dursleys, sleeping under the stairs... And Sirius is in Azkaban.'
"Damn." he muttered with a sigh, 'Now I have to cross the pond and help them... Actually, would I even be able to help them?'
Dumbledore would probably oppose any attempt to remove Harry from his supposedly 'caring family', if Mark remembered the story correctly. And Sirius... Mark was not sure if things would go well there either.
Peter Pettigrew was currently living as a rat with the Weasleys. Finding him and exposing him should be relatively straightforward. But Sirius was never exonerated in the story, and Mark suspected that securing his freedom would not be nearly so simple as that, not without proper preparation.
'So, no running off to Europe just yet then.' he thought with a frown.
He hated it. Now that he knew good people were suffering, the idea of sitting around while doing nothing felt like crap. Harry was just a child, being treated as though he were a worthless servant in the very home that was supposed to shelter him. And Sirius was trapped in a living hell, forced to relive his worst memories day after day.
The thought made his blood boil.
But charging in without a plan could make everything worse. He needed information, a way to approach the problem, and some idea of how to deal with the people who would inevitably stand in his way.
As much as he hated the delay, he would have to be patient.
He would help them. He just needed to make sure that, when he did, he actually made things better.
---
Several hours passed as he worked on his mask, and considered what to do with his new awareness of the wizarding world when Cortana asked a question out of the blue, "Is an elastic body Reed Richards only power?"
At first, the question seemed so absurd that he nearly laughed. But coming from Cortana, it made him reconsider what he thought he knew, "Um, why do you ask?"
"I've been analyzing the research available from Reed Richards. There's a measurable difference in the quality and complexity of his work before and after the spaceflight that gave the team their powers. Before the incident, he was already at the cutting edge of his field. Afterward, however, his work demonstrates a level of insight that seems disproportionate even to his established intelligence. If I hadn't known the papers were written by the same person, I would have suspected a different author."
Mark sat unmoving for several long moments as he absorbed that.
In the comics, Reed was known as the smartest man in the world. He could create incredible things, from something as relatively simple as a flying car to a portal into the Negative Zone.
Some of those inventions could probably be replicated through conventional science and technology by someone like Tony Stark. But if Cortana was right...
He mentally sifted through everything he knew about the Fantastic Four, searching for a clue.
"Franklin!"
"Who?"
"Franklin Richards. In the future, Reed and Sue get married and have a son. Franklin has... well, the powers of a god. But that is not something you would expect from combining his parents' abilities. Sue's powers turned out to be far more versatile than they initially appeared. Reed may be the same."
"An interesting hypothesis," Cortana replied. "If the transformation affected his cognitive functions as well as his physical structure, it's conceivable that his intelligence underwent a similar change. Perhaps his mind became more... adaptable. That might account for the discrepancy in his research."
Mark frowned, considering the implications. Then another thought occurred to him, "How did you end up looking into Reed's research in the first place, Cortana?"
"Oh, I was curious about his work."
"Curious?"
"He's a brilliant scientist who underwent an unprecedented transformation. Surely you can't blame me for wanting to understand what happened to him. Besides, you did ask me to help you figure out how this world works."
---
Mark was sitting on the rooftop with his new training sticks and wearing his mostly fixed mask, waiting for Gwen.
It was early evening, and he was not sure she would show. But he said he would be here today, giving her an invitation to build a connection. If she was truly not interested in being a part of the metahuman world however, he would not push.
Continuing to sit, he took advantage of the wait to meditate on the Force.
After a time he felt someone quickly approach, and open his eye just as Gwen jumped to the same rooftop.
She walked toward him with confidence, but he could also feel her worry.
"Good evening, Rib Tickler."
"Don't call me that!" she snapped, crossing her arms.
"Very well. If that name is not to your liking, I have thought of several others. How about Feather Fist?"
"No! I don't need a reminder of that, okay? I... look, you said that things would keep happening. Was the alien showing up in Times Square and fighting the Fantastic Four the kind of thing you were talking about?"
Mark was a little put off by how quickly she shut down his teasing, especially considering he really had spent some time coming up with other names. Still, he set the jokes aside and answered her question seriously, "Yes. That is a good example of things to come. But, I am curious. Did you see or hear of anyone else there, fighting the Skrull?"
"Someone else...? I was in sch- I mean, I only watched it later on the news. They didn't show anyone else fighting the Skrull. Was someone else there?"
"Yes." he considered leaving it at that, but decided to continue, "I was there, did not do much though. The Skrull was defeated in a second fight, away from anyone who could be hurt."
He felt her relief when she heard it was defeated, but also explained that more would come, though most would not be nearly as powerful as the Super-Skrull, and quickly filled her in on their shapeshifting abilities.
"More?" she asked uncertainly, "Are you sure?"
"Yes, Gwen." he said, dropping all pretenses, "The future is going to be full of many dangers. There is hope, but it will be by the actions of heroes like the Fantastic Four, that we avoid destruction. You could be one of those heroes, too, if you want."
She stiffened, a sudden spike of fear running through her at the sound of her name.
For a long moment after he finished speaking, she remained silent. Then, fully on guard she cautiously asked, "So, you knew who I was all along?"
"...Yes. But fair's fair. You'll learn my identity soon enough, too."
"What do you mean?" she asked carefully.
"My secret identity is on life support. Its condition is terminal. Honestly, the only reason not to tell you now is the possibility that you would tell your father and, by extension, the police. They could still cause me trouble for a while yet. But you knowing my face and name? That really would not be a problem."
"...Your secret identity is on life support?" she repeated. He could sense her suspicion growing, "And you're telling me this because you think I'll find out soon anyway? You do realize that saying you know who I am, that you know my father, and that the police might be a problem for you isn't exactly reassuring, right?"
"Ah... I did not mean it that way about the police." and hesitated, "Well, I suppose it will not really matter when they find out..."
The words came out with an air of resignation that surprised even him.
Cortana could obscure the true owner of any properties he purchased, protecting them, and making it difficult for the authorities to trace things back to him. And the big players in the Marvel universe were unlikely to care about him either way, until he gave them a reason to. When he thought about it, trusting Gwen carried remarkably little risk as far as he could tell.
"Wait. You said I'd learn your identity soon enough. Does that mean you're planning to tell me, or that something's going to happen that makes it impossible for you to keep it secret?" she asked.
Some of the sharpness had left her voice, replaced by wary curiosity and a flicker of apprehension.
"As of this moment, both," Mark said and rose to his feet.
He quickly scanned the surrounding area through the Force, checking for hidden observers. Satisfied that they were alone, he turned back to her, "My name is Mark."
-----
Gwen POV:
Making her way home, Gwen moved swiftly across the rooftops, deep in thought.
Mark had revealed a lot to her, even if she had no way of verifying most of what he'd told her. At the very least, he'd finally made it clear that he knew who she was. She still wasn't sure what to make of him, and she couldn't shake the question nagging at the back of her mind, 'Can I even trust anything he says?'
She'd ultimately decided to meet him because she wanted answers about the Skrull. He seemed to know things he shouldn't, and if an alien invasion like that was supposed to be typical of the future, she had every reason to worry. About the world, certainly, and especially about her father, 'But he did say there was hope, too...'
A commotion from the street below interrupted her thoughts.
Gwen stopped at the corner of a rooftop and peered down. There was a ruckus inside a shop. A moment later, three men burst through the door and bolted into the adjoining alley, pursued by angry shouts about thieving bastards.
For a moment, she could only stare.
What was she supposed to do? She'd never intended to become a hero. And she could only imagine how furious her father would be if he found out she was running around the city, breaking the law as a vigilante.
But as the three men started to scramble up a fire escape toward the neighboring rooftop, Mark's words from their first encounter came back to her, 'Would you stand to the side and do nothing if your powers could save lives?'
This wasn't a matter of life and death. Nobody appeared to be in immediate danger, and she had no idea what would happen if she got involved.
But as she watched the men climb, Gwen found herself unable to simply turn away. She had the power to do something. And, despite all her reservations, she felt compelled to act.
She jumped across the alley to the neighboring rooftop, landing beside the fire escape without making a sound. None of the men noticed her. They were too busy scrambling up the stairs and cursing at one another.
Moving away from the edge, she waited as they reached the roof, one by one.
"Hey!" she called as the last man climbed onto the rooftop.
All three stopped and turned toward her. For a moment, nobody said anything. Then one of them, a broad-shouldered man carrying a bag, scowled at her, "Who the hell are you supposed to be?"
Gwen glanced down at her costume, "...Err, Spider."
The man blinked, apparently unsure how to respond.
"How about you put the bag down and turn yourselves in?" she suggested, "There's no need for things to get unpleasant."
One of the men laughed. Another looked her up and down before shaking his head, "You're kidding, right?"
Gwen's stomach tightened. So much for intimidating them into surrendering. She was standing between three grown men and their escape route, dressed in a homemade costume and hoping they'd be sufficiently scared of a girl to give up.
Then the man with the bag lunged at her.
Except his movement looked slow. Painfully slow.
Gwen twisted aside as his fist sailed past her face. Before he could react, she caught his arm, pulled him off balance, and sent him sprawling across the rooftop.
She stared down at him in surprise for a moment, 'Oh, that was easy.'
She was faster than Mark, though he could at least keep up with her. These guys didn't stand a chance.
The second man charged her, swinging wildly. Gwen effortlessly ducked beneath his arm, then planted a hand against his side and shoved.
He went flying, tumbling across the rooftop before crashing into an air-conditioning unit.
The third man took one look at his companions and decided he'd had enough. He scrambled back toward the fire escape, but Gwen leaped after him, caught him by the coat, and tossed him onto the rooftop between the other two.
"Okay, look, I really don't want to hurt anybody. So let's just-"
"Shut up, bitch!" said the first man before looking at the others, "You know what the boss said! So get up and surround her! I ain't getting on his bad side because of some girl playing dress-up!"
---
A minute later, all three men were on the ground, groaning and swearing while Gwen stood over them.
She looked at her hands and really recognized how much stronger she was now. But she'd been careful to hold back. No cracked ribs this time. No blood. Nobody had gone flying through a wall. She hadn't even needed to hit anyone particularly hard.
A laugh escaped her before she could stop it.
She'd actually done it.
Just a few minutes ago, she'd been standing on a rooftop, wondering whether she had the nerve to intervene. Now three would-be thieves were struggling to their feet, and she was completely untouched.
Maybe this superhero thing wasn't as impossible as she'd thought.
Thwip!
One of the robbers was suddenly yanked off his feet as webbing shot across the rooftop. Another web shot bound two of the men together, pinning them securely in place, while a final shot secured the third.
Gwen spun around, as a figure in red and blue swung down from above, and dropped lightly between her and the criminals, "Okay, everybody freeze! And by everybody, I mostly mean the guys committing crimes. The girl in the mask can probably stop trying to look intimidating."
"Excuse me?" she said as she stared at him.
'Spider-Man.'
Of course she'd heard about him. It was practically impossible to live in New York without hearing about Spider-Man. Her father had opinions about masked vigilantes, the Daily Bugle had plenty of opinions about Spider-Man in particular, and most of her school seemed to have an opinion about everything he did.
But no one seemed to be able to agree whether he was doing good, or making things worse.
Gwen never expected to meet him like this.