The clock on my nightstand reads 8:17 PM when I finally decide that enough is enough. I've been watching Ellie hunch over her textbook for the past hour, her pen scratching against paper with irritating precision while I'm sprawled across my dorm bed, dying of boredom and something far more urgent.
"Babe," I whine, crawling across my unmade sheets toward her. "Come on. Wouldn't you rather do me than homework?"
Ellie doesn't look up, her short blonde hair falling forward as she circles something in her textbook. The symbiote ripples subtly beneath the surface of her skin, betraying her awareness of my movement despite her focused expression.
"I gotta finish this first," she grumbles, flipping to the next page with unnecessary force. "Just give me a little bit."
I flop dramatically onto my back. My dorm room feels smaller than usual tonight, the walls closing in with the particular claustrophobia that comes from sexual frustration.
"Can't you finish it later?" I press, rolling onto my stomach and propping my chin on my hands like some lovesick teenager. "The assignment isn't due tomorrow, right?"
Ellie sighs, finally looking over at me with those loving blue eyes that never fail to make my heart skip. "I like to do my assignments right when I…"
A sharp tapping against glass cuts her off mid-sentence. We both freeze, our heads swiveling toward my window in perfect synchronization. Four quick knocks, deliberate and insistent.
My room is on the third floor.
Ellie's eyes narrow, the symbiote instantly rippling across her forearms as she stands, positioning herself between me and the window. I scramble off the bed, fumbling for the golden mask on my nightstand.
"Wait," I whisper, pressing a hand against her back. "Let me check first."
The tapping comes again, more urgent this time. I edge toward the window, mask in hand, and peer through the glass. The night beyond is pitch black, but there's a figure crouched on my windowsill, a slender silhouette in crimson, white eye lenses gleaming in the darkness.
"It's Scarlet," I breathe, recognition dawning.
I unlatch the window and slide it open, cold night air rushing into the warm room. Scarlet Spider perches on my sill like some predatory bird, her masked face tilted slightly as she studies us.
"Skip Step," she says, her voice tense beneath its usual gruffness, "I need your help."
"Oh word?" I lean forward, excitement already bubbling up. "You got it."
Ellie's hand lands on my shoulder, her touch firm enough to make me pause. The black substance coating her fingers shifts and swirls with her irritation.
"Maybe," she says, in that tone mothers use when their kid agrees to something stupid without thinking, "ask what she needs help with first."
Scarlet Spider hesitates at the window, clearly sensing the tension. She slips into my room and straightens to her full height.
"Well..." she begins, reaching for something on her belt. The symbiote on Ellie's arms pulses darker as Scarlet pulls out her phone. "You need to see this."
She taps the screen a few times before turning it toward us. The video quality is shaky, classic bystander footage.
Doc Ock moves through what looks like a campus courtyard, those mechanical arms scuttling like giant spider legs. That same lifeless form from our classroom battle. One of her tentacles extends outward, holding a phone selfie-style while another wraps around a struggling figure, a guy with bright red hair.
"Listen here, Spider-Woman," Doc Ock's mechanical voice blares through the tiny speaker. "If you want to see your precious Mario Jade again, meet me where it all began!"
The camera shakes wildly as Doc Ock scurries away, the red-haired guy's screams fading with distance.
My breath catches as the video ends. The gears in my head start turning, pieces clicking into place like a morbid puzzle. I've seen this before, something similar at least, not in real life, but in the comics I use to devour. Doc Ock's deteriorating condition, her eight arms.
"Fuck," I whisper under my breath, the implications hitting me like a truck.
"What?" Ellie asks, her eyes sharp on my face.
I shake my head, not wanting to voice my suspicions out loud. In the comics, Otto Octavius's body started failing just like this right before he executed his masterplan, the one where he swapped consciousness with Spider-Man and became the Superior Spider-Man. It was a dope storyline, one of my favorites... but this isn't fiction. This is Piper's life.
A sick part of me feels a twisted curiosity. What would Superior Spider-Woman be like in this world? Doc Ock running around in Piper's body, combining that brilliant mind with spider powers?
No. I mentally slap myself. Piper is my friend. This isn't some storyline I can geek out over, this is her actual life at stake. Her body. Her identity.
"Why do you need Skip's help specifically?" Ellie asks Scarlet, her voice cutting through my internal struggle.
Scarlet shifts her weight, the fabric of her costume rustling slightly as she crosses her arms. "Look, I wouldn't be here if I wasn't desperate. I remember when we met you said you had those... prophetic dreams." Her tone makes it clear she's skeptical, but there's an edge of hope beneath the doubt.
"Oh yeah..." I scratch the back of my neck, feeling Ellie's eyes boring into me. The pressure of being put on the spot makes my mind race. What Doc Ock said echoes in my head, "where it all began." I have no idea.
I pace a small circle in my cramped dorm room, trying to pull the memory from wherever it's hiding. The comics, the storylines, they're all jumbled in my head now, fiction and reality blurring together. Plus it feels like a life time ago.
"I don't remember," I finally admit, stopping to face Scarlet. "The place where it all began could mean a lot of things. Probably where she became Doc Ock?"
A lightbulb goes off in my head, and I snap my fingers. "Wait! You know who might know where Doc Ock's hiding?" I turn to Scarlet. "The Shocker."
Scarlet tilts her head, those white eye lenses narrowing slightly. "Shocker? She's probably still in the hospital." Her voice hardens. "Spider-Woman beat her up pretty badly last month. Left her with some broken bones and a concussion."
"Then let's go pay her a visit," I say, already moving toward my closet to grab my jacket.
Ellie sighs dramatically behind me, closing her textbook with a loud thump. The black substance on her skin swirls with obvious irritation as she stands. "I guess my homework will have to wait."
*****
The hospital corridor smells like antiseptic and despair, that unmistakable blend of cleaning products and human suffering. Our footsteps echo against the linoleum as we follow the nurse's directions to room 307. Being in costume at this hour earns us strange looks from the night staff, but no one tries to stop us.
"This is it," Scarlet whispers, pausing outside the door.
I nod, though I'm already formulating my own questions. Venom looms behind us, her massive frame causing a passing orderly to flatten himself against the opposite wall.
Scarlet pushes the door open without knocking, and we file in after her. The room is dimly lit by the glow of a television mounted on the wall. The sound is low, but I immediately recognize what's playing. It's Evangelion. Asuka is wearing a Chargers jersey and repeatedly screaming "BOLT UP!" at a cowering Shinji. I can't help but wonder how it's not the reverse.
"I always forget that Asuka is a Chargers Fan." I mutter to myself. [A/N: I am not a Chargers fan]
In the hospital bed sits Herminie Schultz, better known as the Shocker. Both her wrists are encased in bulky casts, and her face bears the fading yellow-green bruises of a healing beating. She looks smaller somehow, vulnerable without her vibrating gauntlets and padded costume.
Her eyes widen when she spots us, darting between our masked faces before settling on Venom's imposing form. I watch her throat bob as she swallows hard.
"No, no, no," Shocker groans, shrinking back against her pillows. "Please leave me alone. I keep having dreams where you all show up and I die some horrible death."
I step forward, trying to look as non-threatening as possible with my golden mask on. "Come on, Shocker, that's no way to greet us. We're just here to talk."
"Don't fucking come near me," she snaps, her voice cracking with genuine fear. She gestures weakly at the TV with one casted arm. "I don't want to be a villain anymore! I just want to watch my little fucking robot show with the German Japanese girl who likes the Chargers!" [A/N: I am not a Chargers fan]
It's kind of funny, a supervillain cowering in a hospital bed watching anime. It makes me feel a little bad.
"Asuka really is incorrigible with how much she loves the Chargers, isn't she?" I say, trying to establish some common ground.
Shocker's frown deepens, but I catch a flicker of appreciation in her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Bolt up," she mutters halfheartedly.
Scarlet Spider steps forward, her patience clearly wearing thin. "Listen, we just want to find out where Doc Ock's hideout is. That's all."
"Why the hell would I know that?" Shocker asks, her eyes darting between us nervously.
Venom moves closer to the bed, her massive form casting an ominous shadow across Shocker's face. "Because villains talk," she growls, her dual-layered voice making the room feel ten degrees colder. "They brag about their plans, their hideouts, their schemes."
Shocker's eyes dart nervously between Venom's towering form and Scarlet Spider's tense stance. I can practically see her mental calculation playing out, weighing her loyalty to villain-kind against the very real threat of three superheroes in her hospital room while she's trapped with two broken arms.
"For god's sake, fine!" she finally blurts out, shoulders slumping in defeat. "Doc Ock tried to recruit me a few months back, okay? I turned her down because Goblin offered better benefits."
"Where?" Scarlet demands/
"It's some fucking lab in Queens," Shocker mutters, looking genuinely annoyed at having to give up the information. "Underground facility beneath an abandoned warehouse. Real supervillain classic."
Scarlet immediately reaches for her belt, pulling out a small notepad and pen. She thrusts them toward Shocker. "Write down the address."
Shocker stares at the pen, then raises her casted arms with an exasperated expression. "Hello? Broken wrists? Spider-bitch's handiwork, remember?"
"Oh," Scarlet says, actually sounding a little embarrassed.
"It's on my phone," Shocker sighs, nodding toward a beat-up smartphone on the bedside table. "In my contacts under Eight arms. Just... help me unlock it."
I step forward, grabbing the phone and holding it up to Shocker's face. The facial recognition kicks in, and the screen unlocks with a cheerful chime that feels completely at odds with our grim mission.
"Just scroll through my contacts," she instructs, watching me navigate her phone with surprising calm now that she's decided to cooperate. "You'll find it."
As I scroll through her contacts, I can't help but notice how many villain names appear, Rhino, Electra, Mysterio, Sandwoman. It's like flipping through the pages of a supervillain yearbook.
"There," Shocker says when I reach it. I tap the contact and sure enough, there's an address listed underneath a Queens zip code.
I show the screen to Scarlet, who quickly memorizes the address before nodding to Venom. Our mission accomplished, we turn to leave, but something makes me pause at the doorway. I glance back at Shocker, who's already turned her attention back to Evangelion.
"Hey," I call softly, making her look up. "Thanks. And... bolt up." [A/N: I am not a Chargers fan]