Iconic

[Spawn Guy]

Chapter One: Rescue

My name is Peter Parker…and I’ve been Spider-Man since I was fifteen years old.

Many of you are doubtless wondering how I made it all the way through college. Well quick survey, how many people here married to a super model?

No keep them up, I want to make sure I count all those hands.

Not that I can see much right now. Iron beams collapsing on top of each other are inconsiderate beasts. Barely any room, doubt Reed Richards could even crawl through.
Or stretch. Whatever. Brains screwing up a little. Maybe we’ve got less air left than I thought. The glow from my belt light only shows more rubble over head. Not good.

Gwen coughs in my arms, and it pulls at my heart beneath the stupid spider emblem splashed across my costumed chest. It means so much to her right now, but it won’t be worth a damn thing if I can’t pick up the pace and dump it back up top again.

“Hey, stay with me, okay honey? We’re going to get you out of here, alright?”

Her eyes open, like they have to be held open by little elves. With weak arms.

“Kay.”

Barely heard that. Got to move. Now.

But there in lies the rub…we can’t. Wall crawling might have gotten us up this far, but that meant leaving behind anywhere I could set her down. Meaning I can’t loosen up both hands to move these things out of the way, and even if I could do it with just one hand (which I can’t by the way) I’d bring the entire building down on her. More than it already has anyway.

The word I’m looking for is “Parker Luck”. And also rhymes with “Ducking”.

Note to self, never agree to follow J Jonah Jameson anywhere. Ever. I doubt why I even have a Spider Sense nowadays, I can already see the troubles coming before that little rolled up hedgehog feeling starts up at the back of my skull. And yet here we are.

I never thought I’d actually miss New York, and the situation probably wouldn’t be better off there anyway, but at least I’d be on home ground. When Aunt May convinced me to take a chance to see the sights of the city of tomorrow, somehow I doubt she was talking about roughly ten floors worth of Metropolis architecture. At least I’ll die knowing my corpse gets to fertilize the soil of one of the classiest cities on the planet. The place probably looks spectacular from the air, cathedral like spires mixed with art deco and Greek/Roman temples redone in glass and steel. Looked pretty nice from the train window. Or so Ben Urich told me. I wouldn’t know, I was standing in middle class because my ticket wasn’t part of the two for one deal ( that Jameson, what a saint!)

Surprisingly, the entire reason I’m here for this sky scraper to decide to dump itself on me might be because Jonah does in fact have a soul. Some award ceremony for an old friend, Perry White of Metropolis’s own Daily Planet. They were cub reporters, covering the same story in Chicago way back when. They hated each others guts the moment they met so naturally they became the best of friends. At first glance you’d have no idea why; White’s cool under pressure, tolerant, impartial, tips his waiter, and has no moustache. Then some freckled red head guy almost spills punch on his tux and as my ear drums almost burst all I can think is There it is. He’s a publisher and he’s got a loud voice. Go figure.

Turns out I wasn’t just there because of my photojournalistic talents…or maybe I was. Kinda. Mr Redhead was revealed to be the Jimmy Olson…cub photog with up close shots of Doomsday and Braniac’s skull ship Jimmy Olson. Trailed by married reporter couple Lois Lane and Clark Kent. She kept her last name. I’m assuming its not because there’s anything wrong with the name Kent but a little alliteration seems to go a long way with this town. Like Lex Luthor. Go on, say it out loud.

So there they all were. On White’s side of the table. Who’s won an award for the umpteenth time. And on Johan’s, Ben Urich, who’s actually won the same number of Pulitzers as Lane and Kent put together and me. Who’s got a shot of a certain web head under my belt for every shot of a certain local Metropolis legend Olson’s ever taken. Old friends being old friends, in their own way. Everything goes on okay for the next couple of minutes. We mingle. Well, I try. I grew up with an elderly couple in Queens. I actually studied in College. I can recall the exact number of wedgies I received in high school in my head. I split my time between juggling a job and a vigilante career and remembering my wedding anniversary. My best friend can light himself on fire and lives in a giant number four. Socializing isn’t one of my better spider powers. I catch Kent over by the punch bowl and find he hasn’t actually drunk that much. That makes the two of us just about the only completely sober people in the room. We talk. Nice guy, would have liked to have talked to him in high school, share a swirly or two. Then I got that sub atomic explosion from my spider sense.

Two floors down. Something big.

I’m about to make some excuse to Clark before he actually does my job for me; he goes to find the restroom.

“A little punch goes a long way, right? Excuse me Peter.”

Weird, but it made my job a little easier. He’s got the restroom so if I move fast enough I can get roof access and back in time to check up on things, right? Wrong.

[Spawn Guy]

I’m halfway out of my clothes, mask and one web shooter on before the screaming starts. I sneak a glance. Kind of regret that now.

Otto Octavius is brawling his way through the room, trying to get those crazy arms of his around some kind of metallic thing. Trying to punch a hole through it’s chest. I know Ock pretty well, we shared some laughs, he threatened to blow up the city, I shot some web in his eyes, good times, but I’d only ever heard of his shiny new dance partner. Metallo.

Practically unbreakable (albeit missing any adamantaium) metallic body inhabited by the brain of a small time con by the name of John Corben. Nice guy, given the death threats he was throwing at Ock. The good doctor had quite the radiation fetish back in the day, and he apparently hasn’t buried the radioactive hatchet.

Get this; years ago a planet several light years away exploded, theoretically due to the unstable nature of it’s core in it‘s death throws. Every inch of advanced technology and society gone in the fiery blink of an eye. Tragic, especially when you consider the effect it must have on the sole survivor. All we have left to remember this long dead planet by, along with said survivor, is irradiated fragments. The kind of fragment acting as Metallo’s heart/power source. Kryptonite. Whether it was going to science or the black-market I’ll probably never know seeing as Otto wasn’t considerate enough to announce that part of his plan out loud, but he came all the way to Metropolis for it, and if I know him as well as I do he wasn’t taking “No” for an answer. And Metallo clearly wasn’t a fan of the “Give me your soul!” idea.

They tore their way through most of the building before going through the window. That was my cue. A blast of Jonah’s “Menace!” gig ain’t a kiss from MJ, but it does my heart good when I’m going in against not just one of my major psychos but someone else’s. I actually got a couple of jokes out before things really went to hell.

Me showing up didn’t do a lot for Metallo’s sunny disposition.

“First an octopus, now a bug! I am not putting up with anymore New York trash!”

Bet he said that to his last girl friend. Ooooh, score one for Spidey humour!

Then he picked Ock up by the arm (one of the metallic ones, bottom right hand one as I recall) and threw him at me. Fun. For an encore, he proceeds to plough through the side of a near by building with all the grace and subtlety of Wolverine on a good day. And the central support beam as a matter of fact, brining all the buildings floors crashing down on its occupants. Score one for the Parker Luck.

I get to kick Ock in the head before diving in there (again, not encouragement from my darling wife, but the sound of “Accursed arachnid!” followed my generic death threat number one hundred and five is a real motivator when your not playing on your home field).
Good news, there were only two people in the building, a father burning some mid night oil and his daughter biding her time until he took her home or out to dinner or what ever normal people do. Bad news, the father was on the other side of the room getting his coat when the building really starting falling in. I swung in, snagged him with a webline and tugged him out of there just before half the ventilation system obliterated where he’d been standing. For all my enhanced speed an agility, I didn’t have time to try the same thing for his daughter standing in the centre of the room.

I can barley remember back when MJ and I were going to have Little May. Still stings.

I head her father yelling her name at the top of his lunges; “Gwen!”

How am I not suppose to save her with a name like that?

I managed to swing-and-snag her out of the way before the ceiling collapsed, tugging my web line down with it, just as the floor gave way giving us a longer fall to the sub basement before the support beams prevented the rubble from crushing us, thus saving us, yet also trapping us by forming one hell of a mess over our only way out.

And here we are. I’ve managed to get a couple of feet before we hit this particular blockage. I’ve felt our air supply running out the whole way.

She coughs again. I think I’m going to collapse. While technically upright. Nice.

“Just hold on…”

This isn’t fair. She’s not even blonde, but just the thought…I’m as over it as I‘ll ever be, but it hurts because this is closer than I ever got on the bridge so long ago…and I still can’t save her.

I can’t save her.

But maybe someone else can.

This is his city right? He deals with this kind of stuff all the time, its like me dealing with a mugging or a jewel heist (although nobody does those anymore) but he can save that many more lives. Hell, this’ll all be leaves in the driveway to him, I‘ve seen pictures of what happened when he tried to take on the Hulk in New Mexico. Not even Thor came as close as he did. He’s theoretically the most powerful person on the planet, supposedly. Despite my team up track record I’ve never seen him in action outside of live news feeds but he‘s the Man of Steel, right? Change the course of mighty rivers and so on.

Gwen coughs.

Hero time. Even if it’s not me. Here’s hoping Super-hearing actually exists.

“Hel..”

Throats dry. Get it together Parker. Swallow. Deep breath. Pray.

“Help me…”

Keep going, you can’t do anything else, if you stop now you’ll never start up again…

“Help her…Superman…”

I wait.


Nothing.



Gwen coughs. it’s the weakest so far. I can’t look her in the eye.

Mary Jane…

Then…Spider Sense…

There’s a grinding sound, the rubble shifts. I’ve heard that sound before, every time I’ve ever seen Thor or Ben Grimm shift through a mess like this. Dust swells between the cracks and I place both arms around Gwen, holding her tight as it swirls around us, more for my sake than for hers. But she’s not afraid. She’s a Metropolis girl, born and bred. She knows what’s coming. She’s not afraid. The rubble is suddenly sporting a gaping hole, moonlight ramming me right in the face like smoke from one of Wolverine’s cheap cigars. I should probably say something about that to him.

I begin the rest of the climb up before I see the hand in front of me. Then I see him. Hovering right in front of me in honest to god red and blue with red trunks and cape. He gives me a smile that’s like watching the birth of a star.

“Need a lift?”

Oh God. Oh my God. Okay don’t panic, don’t throw up, say something witty…

“That’d be swell.”

Smooth. He smiles again. I smile back and then stop because he can’t see it. Or maybe he can. Does he really have X ray vision? Did he look through my mask? Did he see my face?
Oh my God…

I give him my hand, spending all the strenght I’m not using to hold onto Gwen to keep it from shaking. Oh my God…

I remember one time the FF supposedly teamed up with this guy in deep space. Johnny would not shut up. Oh my God…

“Superman!” Gwen yells, and I almost drop her as my heart cuts out.

[discordiatookie]

MYES I LIKE VERY MUCH! MOAR, I DEMAND MOAR!!!

[MadPirateBunny]

Quick! Somebody! Spidey Needs CPR!

[Spitfire]

Who made that match up? The only way I see Spider-man beating Super-man is if he snuck some kryptonite into his webbing. I love Spider-man*Way more then Super-man who I in fact hate* but Super-man whould wipe the floor with him, kinda why I hate Super-man he can kick anyones ass unless they use kryptonite on him. Such a utterly lame super hero.

[Spawn Guy]

Marvel and DC decided it around the seventies or so. It was the first ever company crossover. The idea was more of a team up, only Marvel style...meaning they'd have to beat the **** out of each other first. Spider-Man got zapped by a dose of "Red Kryptonite" which basically allowed him to hurt Supes until it wore off.

This history lesson has been brought to you by the letter 'S'.

You should get a kick out of this.

[MadPirateBunny]

Sometimes it's necessary to suspend canon and let the intent of the fan fic take over. It's especially helpful when the characters are written well.

[Mandi-chan]

Awesome fic, keep it up!

Even though I don't read the mainstream comics for either title, I am a fan of both (Spider-Man because of the movies, Superman because of "Lois and Clark:The New Adventures of Superman") and I love how you've written this so far!

[Spawn Guy]

Wow. I finish the update, and someone posts wanting me to update. Anyway...

Chapter Two: Quest

The big guy is still smiling as hovers us up out of the wreckage, cape dancing like a horse charging across the planes.


Okay, what am I, gay?


I half expected my hand to shatter when I took his, not out of nerves or anything, but just because of the sheer strenght. I should know better though, I’ve teamed up with people possessing well over class one hundred strenght before. If he wanted to rip my hand off, I could probably do it myself and it wouldn’t be half as painful. But he just holds us steady.

Which brings up an interesting point; he’s holding me, and I’m holding Gwen. Why not carry both of us? Does he…trust me or something?

Because if so, this marks one of the first hero meets hero situations where I didn’t waste half an hour getting my ass handed to me by the other guy. As for the making an idiot out of myself part…

Absently I notice my belt light is still on. Its only after I see it shining on the crowd below that I actually hear them. Maybe I’m in shock or something. Must be, because it takes me a couple of seconds to realise their cheering. Chanting even. For me? Wow, sure are a hell of a lot of them. But my name isn’t…

Oh right.

Metropolis. Him. Of course.

Then something familiar.

“You menace! I knew you’d follow me here! Couldn’t stand it, eh? Wanted to take me out huh? Tried to take us all out at once? I knew I had you running scared! Believe me you haven’t seen anything like the full power of the press yet! You just wait! You’re web spewing ass will be on my wall!”
That’s Jonah. Eyes always on the balls. So he can bust mine. Superman keeps smiling down at me, not in condescension, but in amused curiosity. I think.

“You get that a lot?”

Okay, yeah, he’s amusingly curious. Time to make up for that “Swell” abomination.

“Actually, no. He just never got his fan club membership badge. I told him it got lost in the mail, but what are you gonna do, right?”

Its not my best one liner, but he laughs and from my other arm I hear a giggle. Gwen’s smiling at me to.

We finally come in for a landing just next to some ambulances. There are a couple scattered around here and there down the street. Or what’s left of it. Ock and the Terminator groupie must have had a good time. At least none of the wreckages on fire.

He sets me down and I turn my attention back to Gwen. I’m zoning out a little here. I’ve flown with other heroes before but this guy isn’t just any hero.

“You okay sweetie?”

She nods, a grin wider than the Holland tunnel on her face. And it’s aimed at me, not just the big guy. That’s…sort of new. Mostly me teaming up with one of the big guns, not to name names (Captain America), pushes me from Friendly Neighbourhood co star to Town In The Middle Of Nowhere sidekick. The crowd, mostly entire news teams from the ceremony, surge forward. The big guy gives me a look that says You know how it goes and steps in front of me and Gwen raising his hands, that same smile on his face.

He probably dosen’t know I gave him a look back that said Actually, no.

I spot Lois holding her own in the storm. Her eyes knife from the big guy, to the wrecked street and then to me. Looking back feels like looking into a sun. He says a few words I can‘t make out (because I don‘t have super hearing), and suddenly the mob is backing up. Including Jonah. Lois has this look on her face, a sort of smile meets boredom, as if this is par for the course. Nice. I would have just run for it. Because there’s crime to fight. Not because I’d be scared or anything. Oh no. Definitely not.

He’s looking at me again, so I decide to get all business like.

“So what happened to Doc Ock and the Iron Man wannabe? They get away?”

I don’t think he heard me almost wet myself. Which reminds me, I haven’t been to the bathroom since we left the hotel. I’m going to be able to write on all the snow in Antarctica when this is over.

“Not exactly. I can track them down easily enough. Their not exactly subtle. But I had to make sure everyone was okay, they really tore up things around here. I’m glad you were on the scene, you really slowed things down.”

He probably could have stopped an earthquake in China, a nuke in Russia, cured world hunger and have been back in plenty of time to take down those two psychos, but if Aunt May taught me anything, it was how to take a compliment. I get so few as it is.

I keep my hand steady as I switch off my belt light. Last thing my reputation needs is me grabbing my crotch with one hand and holding a eight year old girl in the other. In front of a crowd mostly made up of reporters. Speaking of said mass, Gwen’s father bursts out towards us like a salmon out of a stream. I hold Gwen out, and he grabs her as if he were clinging to a life preserver in an ocean. Which he kind of is. Looking at him now…there’s a bit of George Stacy in him, even though the features are decades younger.

“She’s okay, just a little…”

“Thank you Superman, thank you so much! God bless you!”

Yeah, I’m getting that Captain America team up feeling.

At least my hands are free. Gwen waves to me over her dad’s shoulder, not the big guy, me. I return it and whatever part of me decided to be petty dies down. She’s safe. I’ve got the most forward of all back up to help take on Ock and Metallo. And I do not have God knows how much wreckage crushing down on me anymore. All in all, not bad.

This vacation is shaping up when you think about it.

I check my web shooters while I’m at it. I caught that rarest of things, a lucky break. Neither of them damaged in the fall, and I’m still running at around full capacity. I’m getting the feeling I’m going to be using a lot of this stuff up tonight.

“I didn’t know you operated out side of New York.”

I shrug, trying to keep my shoulders from falling off with nervious shaking.

“One day, I’m going look around there and realise all I’ve done with my life is spray silvery goo all over everything. I might as well get out and spray silvery goo over stuff somewhere else.”

He laughs, a sound from Christmas and thanksgiving and your birthday. Superman laughed at my joke.

I am so rubbing Johnny’s face in this.

He motions to my webshooters as I slide an extra cartage in.

“Your abilities…there mechanical?”

“Nope. I can barley stop the clock blinking on my VCR.”

Okay, could I have picked a joke that’s more dated? Even I, the anti Donald Trump, have a DVD player.

He smiles, no laughing but smiles. It vanishes a second after my Spider sense buzz saws it’s way through my skull, which with the headache I didn’t fully appreciate until now is not fun. A giant angry orange jellyfish erupts between the canyons of Metropolis, the hellfire light shrinking away and thinning into smoke. They really aren’t that subtle.

He turns to me, cape shifting in the wind like an eager tiger.

“Shall we?”

I hesitate, and yet kind of don’t. My thoughts are slow. I’m going to go kick ass with a legend. The legend.

What the hell. My response is instant.

“That would be super.”

And away we go.