Clown Without Pity

In the years since aliens, mutants, magic and superheroes had proven themselves all too real, the people of New York City had proven their resiliency time and again. Whether in dealing with the horrors of invading aliens, rampaging monsters, and the dozens of supervillains that had come to infest the city like a plague, New Yorkers had been beaten down many times before, but had always managed to rebuild.

So it had been in the two weeks since the murderous Psyko had led an army of mentally enslaved supervillains on a rampage through New York. A valiant effort by the city's superheroes and law enforcement officials had managed to defeat Psyko and put an end to the madness he had wrought, and since then New Yorkers had pulled together to rebuild their city. Philanthropists ranging from the likes of technology guru Tony Stark and computer software magnate Marc Spector, to celebrities such as mutant singer Allison Blaire and lawyer Matt Murdock, had all donated substantial sums of money to help the city rebuild.

Gwen Stacy couldn't help but feel a certain sense of pride as she walked down the street on her way home from work that evening. The rebuilding had been difficult-the Empire State Coffee Shop had taken a fair beating-but her city had once again proven its ability to recover from disaster. As the spectacular Spider-Woman, she had participated in the fight against the supervillains, helping to bring Blizzard back to his senses and capturing the villainous Pyro, to say nothing of the many innocent lives she and Blizzard had saved.

She couldn't help but feel a certain amount of sympathy for Blizzard, who had put his life on the line without hesitation to help her. Although he could have escaped capture like many of the other supervillains who had managed to regain their senses after Psyko's defeat, he had willingly stayed behind and let himself be returned to prison to serve out his sentence.

It was then that Gwen froze in amazement.

She was feeling sympathy for Blizzard?

Her first fight with Blizzard had been harsh and violent, and she hadn't felt any remorse in beating him senseless.

But now…

…Now, she simply wasn't sure what she felt.

SPIDER-WOMAN #16

"CLOWN WITHOUT PITY"

"Blast it all Percy, what's wrong now?" the man demanded in a confident voice, scowling in frustration. The man's expression suddenly shifted into a look of extreme worry, before he spoke again in a much more timid, childlike voice.

"The stripes…why'd you have to make so many stripes?" he asked plaintively.

It was a valid question, given that the walls of the warehouse basement the man claimed as his lair were painted in bizarre, unsettling patterns of purple and white stripes and spirals. Demented, unsettling furniture decorated the room, crafted to resemble monstrous clowns, demonic teddy bears, maimed toy soldiers, and wicked witches. Paintings depicting superheroes suffering from various gruesome fates hung on the wall, while pint-sized dolls, wolves, and trolls roamed everywhere. In the corner, a large group of tiny spinning wheels were manned by dozens of tiny Rumplestiltskin-like figures, who worked diligently at spinning their master's new costume.

"Please, Percy," the man sniffed disdainfully, again taking on that confident 'Barton' tone, "A good showman always displays a proper sense of aesthetics."

"But-" the man interrupted himself again, taking on that plaintive 'Percy' voice.

"No buts!" the man started once more in his 'Barton' voice. "Our old costume was far too generic, and hardly stood out against those of the dozens of other rogues in the city. If we hope to establish ourselves as performance artists, we must stand out from the crowd!"

As unsettling as the whole scenario was, arguably the most bizarre part was watching the man continually argue with himself. Known to the psychiatrists who had tried to treat him as the 'Brothers Grimm', the man seemed to have two fully aware personalities within him, who continually argued and bickered. Having been released from the Ravencroft Institute for the Criminally Insane by the monstrous being known as Psyko, the Brothers had joined the rest of the supervillains in rampaging through New York until Psyko's defeat, at which time the Brothers Grimm regained control of himself.

Fortunately, he had not yet been defeated by the superheroes who had fought to recapture the villains, and so he had managed to escape in the confusion. Now, with the help of his minions, created with his special conjuration powers, and a goodly supply of paint, plywood, and other raw materials looted from the wreckage of a number of buildings, the Brothers had carved a very nice home for himself in the basement of an abandoned warehouse in one of the New York slum areas.

"Do we really have to go after Spider-Woman again?" pleaded Percy. "You remember what she did to us last time!" he reminded Barton. The Brothers' first attempt at what he termed 'performance art', consisting of kidnapping innocent people and forcing them to watch his demented imagery before extracting 'payment' by robbing them blind, had been thwarted by the heroine known as Spider-Woman, who had badly beaten the Brothers in the process of rescuing his hostages.

"Oh, pish posh," Barton waved away his brother's concerns. "We were holding an open audition, and Spider-Woman passed with flying colors. You know full well we were seeking out fresh talent for the act!"

"Again with the act!" Percy shouted, becoming angry for the first time. "Do you realize what kind of crimes we could commit with our powers? Do you realize what kind of potential we're wasting?"

"Blah, blah, blah," Barton said, as the Brothers Grimm rolled his eyes. "You have absolutely no flair for the dramatic, do you know that? Were you yourself not the one who wanted to entertain people, and make them laugh?"

"Not like this!" Percy shouted, as the man's voice took on an infuriated tone. "You've always ruined these things for me! Ever since we were-"

"I grow weary of your tantrums, dear brother," Barton said, causing the man's eyes to narrow as his voice took on a threatening tone. "Remember, I wield our power. I am the one who decides our fate. "You said it yourself…you would not like me when I am angry."

So saying, the Brothers Grimm lapsed into silence, before smiling in satisfaction as he imagined his plans coming together.

"Tell me again what it is with women and scented candles?" Ben Reilly asked his cousin Kitty Pryde with a half-smile as they strolled through the mall the next afternoon.

"That's classified information," Kitty replied mockingly. "I'd be kicked out of the sisterhood if I told you!"

"Whatever," Ben rolled his eyes. "So Liz's birthday is on Thursday?"

"Yeah," Kitty nodded. "She really likes scented candles."

"Naturally," Ben sighed. "Women and scented candles…it's almost as bad as women and shoes."

That earned him a smack upside the head from Kitty.

"I'm serious," Ben insisted. "I mean, look at your Chucks," he pointed down at Kitty's feet and the green Converse sneakers she was wearing. "How many pairs do you have now?"

"These aren't actually mine," Kitty shook her head. "I just borrowed them from Gwen because I wanted to try out these colors for the day. She has almost as many pairs of Converse as I do."

"And then there's women and borrowing each other's clothes," Ben smirked, before he dodged Kitty's next attempted smack. "What's Gwen been up to, anyway?"

"Why do you want to know?" Kitty asked teasingly.

"Well…I…" Ben fumbled for a moment.

"If you really want to know, she's been on a couple of dates with Randy Robertson already, and now they're auditioning for a production of A Streetcar Named Desire together," Kitty said hesitantly.

"I see," Ben said calmly, despite the heavy frown on his face. "Are they an item, then?"

"Not yet," Kitty replied, "but if you want to make a move, now's the time. Gwen really seems to like Randy, so if you want to take a shot at it, you'd better get on it."

Ben only grinned in response.

"Believe me, it's looking good," Jason Phillip Macendale, a ranking detective on the New York Police Department Superhuman Activities Unit, smiled as he spoke to the man in front of him. "Typhoid Mary's still on the loose and ready for action, and Daredevil took care of Screaming Mimi for us."

"What about Deadpool?" the other man asked.

"He's still on the loose out there, unfortunately," Macendale shrugged. "I dropped the hint to Moon Knight when I met him after he busted the Maggia's hashish operation. Moon Knight was probably too busy dealing with the Grim Reaper again."

The other man in the room only smiled. Commonly known in the underworld as 'Fancy Dan', he was in charge of internal affairs and administration of the Kingpin's criminal empire. Along with Montana (in charge of drug deals, prostitution, counterfeiting, and the other 'quiet industries') and the Ox (in charge of enforcement and dealing with external threats), the three Enforcers, as they liked to call themselves, were the lieutenants who dealt with the day-to-day business of their boss's crime syndicate.

Detective Macendale was one of Fancy Dan's own personal projects. The criminal rackets in the New York area were some of the most competitive in the world, with the Kingpin having to compete with the likes of the flamboyant up-and-coming mob boss who called himself 'Crimewave', the French expatriate racketeer and drug smuggler Phillipe Bazin, and the European crime syndicate popularly known as the Maggia. Even the new breed of costumed supervillains were trying to get in on the act, with the Green Goblin notoriously attempting to seize control of the New York underworld.

In response to such challenges, the enterprising Fancy Dan had realized that both the costumed superheroes who had appeared in recent years, as well as the conventional law enforcement groups, wanted the crime syndicates stopped. Hence Dan had realized the advantages of manipulating the police and the superheroes to the Kingpin's own benefit-the proper management of the authorities by crooked police officers could lead to the imprisonment of the Kingpin's competition, while allowing his own men to walk free. Any success against the rival crime organizations would allow the crooked officers to maintain their cover too. After all, successful officers who were responsible for helping capture many of the prominent criminals in New York were much less likely to be suspected of corruption.

Macendale was one of those officers, who repaid the generous bribes he was given by Fancy Dan to ensure that many of the Kingpin's rivals were seriously hindered in their criminal enterprises. Individual supervillains, who often found work with the various syndicates, could also be arrested if they worked for the competition.

Fancy Dan leaned back in his chair, satisfied and secure with the work Macendale had done. Opening a drawer in his desk, he took out a block of hundred-dollar bills and tossed it to Macendale, who took the money, nodded and left Dan's office.

For the moment, Dan might have felt secure. Of course, he might have been less so if he'd been able to read Macendale's mind and see the seething rage the corrupt cop felt for his boss.

Fucking arrogant son of a bitch, Macendale was thinking to himself as he headed for his car. Looks down on me, thinks he's all that…When I blow his goddamn head off…

Typing away intently at his computer, Harry Osborn didn't get up to answer the door when he first heard the knock. However, as the knocking continued and became more insistent, Harry finally became fed up with the interruption. Figuring it was Gwen come to bother him again, he got up and stormed to the door, resolving to tell her off and slam the door in her face.

Instead, he found the concerned, frowning face of Liz Allan, his girlfriend.

Everything Harry initially resolved to say fell away as he wordlessly invited Liz in. Gesturing to the two chairs in front of the television, he sat down in one as Liz took her seat in the other.

"What's up?" Harry asked bluntly.

"You know what's up, don't you?" Liz asked gently. "The dropping out of school, your disappearing for weeks at a time, the calls and e-mails you don't answer. What's going on, Harry?"

"I've got things I need to take care of," Harry said, waving his hand in dismissal. "They're the most important thing right now."

"You didn't answer my question," Liz replied, a little more pointedly now. "Are you having problems? Is there something I can help you with?"

"No," Harry said, too quickly. "Everything's fine."

"No it isn't," Liz insisted. "This isn't like you, Harry. You never even talk to me, to any of us anymore. There's clearly something bothering you. Can't we help you?"

"No, you can't!" Harry snapped back at her, anger rising in his voice. "You can't do anything!"

"What do you mean?" Liz demanded, her own voice rising with hurt. "Aren't we your friends? Why won't you let us-"

"Because there's nothing you can do!" Harry finally shouted. "You can't help me!"

"Harry…" Liz said quietly, despite the pain in her voice. "I just want to-"

"Just want to help?" he smirked in reply. "Unless you can find a way to put the screws to someone who really deserves it, there's fuck-all you can do."

"…What?" Liz asked in surprise. "Who would I…"

"Who do you think?" Harry sneered. "Always looking down on me, gushing over guys like Peter Parker, making cracks about how all his good genes are recessive, yelling at me to shape up and quit disgracing the family name…"

"…You mean your father?" Liz asked in surprise.

"Got that in one," Harry rolled his eyes. "You know, Gwen was right- the old man probably would rather have that Peter Parker guy as his son."

"…So what are you doing?" Liz wondered. "Is this what you're-"

"You really want to know what I'm doing?" Harry grinned. "I'm going to fuck the old man over. Big time. He'll never see it coming."

"How are you going to do it?" Liz began, not liking where this was going.

"Relax, it won't be anything the bastard didn't have coming," Harry assured her.

Liz frowned and hardly seemed convinced.

"Harry, is this going to be-" she began.

His eyes flared.

"What, you think I'm going to do something illegal?" he demanded.

"No Harry, I-" she began.

"That's it, get the hell out!" he shouted, standing up and pointing at the door. "You can't trust me or something?"

"You haven't given me a whole lot of reason!" Liz shot back, fear turning to anger.

"This is too important for anybody to fuck it up!" Harry yelled back at her. "Now get out! Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out!"

"Harry-" Liz started, her jaw dropping open in shock.

"You heard me!" Harry continued. "Don't make me repeat myself!"

Tears in her eyes, Liz turned her back and marched to the door. She looked over her shoulder one last time at Harry, before she slammed the door.

Now it was Harry's turn to have tears form in his eyes. He knew how badly he had treated her, not just tonight but for the last several weeks, and not a day hadn't gone by that he wasn't cursing himself for it.

Still, it had to be done.

There was just no other way around it.

The Aristophanes Playhouse was like many others in New York's off-Broadway theater district, catering to smaller productions for aspiring actors and theatre students like Gwen and Randy Robertson. Not particularly large or prestigious, it nonetheless offered a way for novices and unknowns to get in the door.

It was with those thoughts in mind that Gwen and Randy stepped into the main auditorium, where they gathered with a number of other people who had come to audition. Falling into conversation, the would-be actors were interrupted by a loud whistle blown from the seats, followed by a series of calls for them to line up on stage and prepare their lines.

Turning in surprise, they saw a short, pale-skinned man with curly black hair, dressed all in red, swaggering down the main aisle between the seats and flouncing up on stage, before glaring at the people in front of him. He surveyed them with a critical eye of disdain, before he began addressing them in a haughty voice with a notable English accent.

"Greetings to one and all," he began, "I am Archibald Llewellyn, proprietor of the Aristophanes Playhouse and director of this performance. Long have I yearned to do justice to the works of Master Tennessee Williams, and now I shall realize my opportunity. Stand before me, and prove yourselves if you be worthy avatars for the dramatis personae!"

Gwen and Randy looked at one another in surprise, wondering if this character was for real, before they shrugged and began reading out their lines. Mr. Llewellyn more than lived up to their expectations with catty insults and sneering condescension that led more than one participant to cuss and throw their scripts at him before marching offstage in disgust.

With increasing trepidation, Gwen went over her lines once again before her turn came up. When it did, she swallowed hard and recited her piece. Rather than the role of Blanche DuBois, Gwen had decided to try for the role of Stella Kowalski, thinking that she'd have a better chance of landing a role that would have had fewer people competing for it.

To her surprise, Mr. Llewellyn said nothing at first, simply folding his arms and staring intently at her, his eyes narrowed.

"Tell me, child," he finally began, an edge of contempt in his voice, "for what reason have you chosen to audition for my play?"

That was something she hadn't expected.

"I've always loved the works of Tennessee Williams," she replied uncertainly. "And I believe that I can do the character of Stella justice."

"Quite so," Mr. Llewellyn said calmly as he frowned. "Quite so."

He wrote something down in a little notebook he carried with him, his frown narrowing into a scowl.

"That was odd," Gwen shook her head to Randy as they left the Aristophanes Playhouse after the auditions were done.

"What was?" Randy asked her, quite pleased with himself. He'd nailed the audition cold, and could already see himself in the role of Stanley Kowalski.

"Just the way that guy acted," Gwen replied.

"You mean like Roderick Kingsley?" Randy asked, suddenly alarmed.

"No, not like that," Gwen shook her head. "Why'd he have to go and insult people like that?"

"Gwen, this is the New York drama scene," Randy rolled his eyes. "The only place where you'll find more rampaging egomaniacs is Los Angeles."

"Yeah, but why didn't he insult us the way he did the other actors?" Gwen wondered.

"Well, we were the youngest ones there," Randy noted, recalling how most of the other actors had ranged from their late twenties to early forties. "Maybe he just wanted to take it easy on us? We're still just kids by his standards, after all."

"Maybe," Gwen demurred. "He sure didn't pull his punches with the other people."

"Ah well," Randy shrugged. "If we make it, so much the better. If we don't, there's always next time, right?"

Life as a computer technician wasn't particularly exciting for Jessica Drew, but it paid her bills. Every day it was the same walk from her apartment to the bus stop, down to her job at the computer repair shop, and then back again in the evening. It was somewhat bland and boring, but then Jessica actually rather liked bland and boring, as did her fiancé Jerry. In fact, that was one of the reasons she and Jerry intended to leave New York as soon as they had saved up enough money-the city was too loud, too vibrant, and too eventful for their tastes.

Unfortunately for Jessica, her walk to the repair shop was interrupted as she passed by the TV station after she got off the bus that morning. The windows of the station's ground floor were curiously glittering, catching her eye. As Jessica stopped briefly, she looked into the window, noting the curious sparkles. Unfortunately, as she came in for a closer look, the glitter on the windows seemed to fly off with a mind of its own, flying towards her as if in response to her presence.

Jessica backed off in alarm, but it was too late, as she breathed in the glitter.

It was then that Jessica became perfectly calm. Opening the front door to the studio, she walked in and took the elevator to the third floor, where she found a soundstage all set up and ready to go, complete with a camera crew and studio audience. They all sat or stood in perfect, stoic silence, acting as if they were in church. The only one not behaving that way came up to her with a winning smile.

"You have an admission fee?" Jessica's host asked her. "Please pay it here."

In response, Jessica handed over her purse, her watch and her jewelry, putting it all in a pile the host had set aside for the purposes.

"Ah, good," the host smiled. "Then I guess we're-"

"We don't need the zombie dust anymore, Barton!" the host suddenly interrupted himself in a whining voice. "Let's get rid of it before we're interrupted!" he said to himself, snapping his fingers in the knowledge that the dust the host had smeared on the outside windows would evaporate into nothingness.

"Now then dearie, please take your seat," the host instructed Jessica. "Over there, the last seat up in the nosebleed sections. And don't forget the rope!" he added, as Jessica again complied with his instructions.

The technical staff in the other room was ready to interrupt the station's current broadcast, the cameramen were on standby, and the host had his studio audience.

The host realized everything was ready, as he burst into hysterical laughter.

"It's SHOWTIME!" he cackled.

University schedules being what they were, modern college students often found themselves at home in the middle of the day waiting between classes. Such was the position Gwen found herself in that morning, as she wrapped up her English homework. Her hunger gnawing at her, she decided to take a lunch break, hopefully catching the last of The Price Is Right before it ended.

Munching on a ham sandwich, Gwen was generally at ease as she flipped through the channels, her problems with her limited money supply, her parents, and her issues as Spider-Woman far from her mind. Unfortunately, it was while she was channel surfing that she saw a sight that very nearly caused her to choke on her food in horror.

She didn't recognize the soundstage that the "show" was being broadcast on, but she recognized that hideous laughter anywhere. Firebrand's laughter was more sadistic, Jack O' Lantern's was more malicious, but neither of them were as hysterical and unhinged as the voice she recognized all too well.

"Hello, New York!" the Brothers Grimm laughed as he waved to everyone watching the broadcast. At first Gwen didn't recognize him in his black-and-white-striped Beetlejuice suit, or the open straitjacket he wore overtop of it, or the loud purple jester's hat he wore on his head and the grinning harlequin mask that covered his face, but she quickly realized that only the Brothers Grimm would wear something so bizarre.

Sick with horror, she could only watch as the Brothers continued his manic speech.

"Today, as a once-in-a-lifetime television event, I offer all you good people out there in TV Land the rematch of a lifetime!" the Brothers Grimm said grandly, hamming it up for all it was worth. "In one corner, it's going to be me, that notoriously knavish ne'er-do-well known as the Brothers Grimm, and in the other it'll be that stunningly spectacular superheroine known as Spider-Woman, in a fight to the finish, broadcast for all the world to see!"

"You see," the Brothers Grimm continued modestly, as he gestured behind him, "I've got what you might call a 'captive audience'," he grinned, "and they're holding out for a hero to save them!"

As the Brothers Grimm spoke, the cameras focused on him turned to focus on the studio audience. Gwen was sick with horror as she saw the long hangman's nooses dangling from the rafters, tied around the necks of each of the studio audience members.

"Everyone in the building," the Brothers proclaimed, "is under the control of my special magical zombie dust. If I were to order them to leave themselves 'hanging'," he sniggered at his joke, "then they'll all be quite literally fit to be tied. Oh, and FYI," he suddenly warned them, taking on a deadly serious tone, "don't anybody out there in the police, or any of you other heroes, like Daredevil or Darkhawk or whoever, get any ideas about meddling with my fun. I've planted enough egg bombs on every floor of this building to blow it halfway to Wonderland! If anybody but Spider-Woman comes through in, I'm going to blow my top. And if I blow my top, so does this building!" he said angrily.

"So please, please hurry, Spider-Woman" the Brothers Grimm pleaded, suddenly taking on his plaintive childlike 'Percy' voice. "You're these peoples' only hope…"

Torn between horror at the Brothers' threats and anger at what they were doing to the defenseless hostages he had enslaved, Gwen needed no second bidding.

Spider-Woman fought desperately to keep her swiftly rising anger under control as she swung towards the television station. She could feel all her old rage and frustration boiling up again-after all, wasn't she the reason that the Brothers Grimm had kidnapped all those innocent people and threatened to murder them? After all, the whole reason for this insanity was just to force her into a rematch with him.

Many of the people who saw her swinging towards the TV station had cheered her on, encouraging her to beat the Brothers Grimm, but she had heard the curses and insults all the louder, accusing her of being the reason the Brothers was holding all those people hostage.

Not that she bore them a grudge for doing so-they were right, after all.

It was with those thoughts in mind that she made her way into the TV studio and up to the third-floor soundstage, just as the Brothers had told her to. Nothing had changed in the few minutes it had took her to get there-the Brothers had apparently passed the time juggling what looked disturbingly like severed teddy bear heads. As the bear heads flew from one hand into the other, they promptly vanished as the Brothers dismissed them.

"So nice to see you again, my dear!" the Brothers Grimm smiled at Spider-Woman as she strode onto the soundstage. "Did you miss me?"

Spider-Woman only stared back at him with cold anger.

"Look, we just want to put on a good show," the Brothers interrupted in his 'Percy' voice. "So please don't-"

"This is just to put on a show?" Spider-Woman exploded in a rage at the Brothers. Raising her hands, she fired a double sting blast at the Brothers, who whooped with joy as he conjured a flying carpet to raise him above the blasts.

"And awayyyy we go!" he said grandly, tossing a barrage of exploding Easter eggs at Spider-Woman, who backflipped out of the way and leapt into the air, spinning a web and coming at the Brothers with a vicious swing kick. The Brothers swiftly dodged out of the way and threw a whoopee cushion at Spider-Woman that exploded with a loud wheezing sound, releasing a cloud of stinking gas. Gagging from the stench, Spider-Woman was unable to defend herself against the oversized yo-yo the Brothers struck her with as he flew by.

Knocked off her webline, Spider-Woman landed heavily on the ground as the Brothers threw a barrage of meat cleavers after her, conjuring the weapons seemingly out of nowhere. She rolled out of the way to dodge, managing to avoid most of them except for one that painfully tore across the back of her leg. Binding the injury with webbing and staggering to her feet, she dodged the next cleaver and fired back a sting blast in retaliation. The Brothers swooped out of the way to dodge it, before Spider-Woman fired a webline with her free hand and caught the Brothers' carpet, yanking it out from under him.

Now it was the Brothers' turn to freefall, before he conjured a golden star with a swing hanging from it. He managed to stop his fall, but it did no good as he proved an easy target for Spider-Woman's next sting blast, which knocked him off the swing and sent him crashing down onto a wooden table. The table gave way under the impact and dropped the Brothers onto the concrete floor, leaving him stunned as Spider-Woman charged at him.

Beginning to laugh hysterically behind his mask, the Brothers gestured at Spider-Woman and a trail of glittering dust flew from his hands towards her. Spider-Woman was not fooled, however, and instead stopped short. Shooting a webline at the prone Brothers, she dragged him through his own dust, causing him to begin coughing and sneezing, before punching him in the face.

Gagging from being exposed to his own dust, the Brothers threw a collection of exploding jacks at Spider-Woman, forcing her to stop short before he conjured a toy dragon that breathed a line of very real fire. Spider-Woman ducked frantically, but winced in pain as the tail end of the blast scorched her back. Reeling from the pain and the next few fireballs the dragon breathed at her, Spider-Woman was unable to attack as the Brothers Grimm regained his advantage.

"Poor little spider," the Brothers Grimm said mockly, as a golden cloud appeared beneath his feet and he rose into the air once more. "Did the big bad dragon hurt you? Don't feel too bad-our ratings are getting through the roof!"

Behind her mask, Spider-Woman's eyes flared wickedly.

"This is all for ratings?" she shouted in anger as she sprung into the air and spun a webline. In response to Spider-Woman's swinging kick, the Brothers Grimm threw a lightning bolt at her, which easily snapped the webbing. Spider-Woman had seen that coming, however, and easily and quickly dodged from webline to webline, staying one step ahead of the Brothers' attempts to blast her.

"You just had to make her mad!" the Brothers Grimm cursed himself in his Percy voice. "You just had to make her mad!"

Growling in frustration, the Brothers' Barton voice simply kept up the pressure and switched instead to a net of golden straw, which he flung at Spider-Woman as it spread out with a mind of its own.

Instead of dodging as the Brothers had anticipated, Spider-Woman simply dropped straight down on her latest webline until it was pulled taut as it reached its limit. The backswing of the webline sent Spider-Woman careening towards the ceiling, where she made a three-point landing with her wall-crawling powers. Spraying her webbing with both hands, she caught the net of golden straw and flung it right back at the Brothers, entrapping the lunatic in his own netting and adding a barrage of her own webs for good measure.

The Brothers Grimm fell off his cloud as he struggled to free himself, before Spider-Woman sprayed another webline to connect him from the ceiling. Dangling helplessly, the Brothers Grimm finally managed to dispel his straw net, but he remained hanging upside-down, half entangled in Spider-Woman's webs. Seizing the opportunity, Spider-Woman gave him two more double blasts of her stings, before the Brothers finally fell unconscious.

Spider-Woman covered the Brothers in another layer of webbing before she lowered him to the floor. Already, the effects of his magical conjurations were disappearing, as the audience and camera crew were freed the effects of the Brothers' hypnotic zombie dust. Many of them burst into cheering Spider-Woman as she lowered the unconscious Brothers Grimm to the ground.

She would have turned to acknowledge them, except that the Brothers had twitched back to life. Alarmed, she spun around and prepared another sting blast, except that she paused at the quiet, sad voice in which the Brothers spoke.

"I'm so, so, sorry…" the Brothers Grimm mumbled in his Percy voice. "Barton made us do all this, not me."

"What do you mean, Barton?" Spider-Woman demanded, as she knelt down to remove the Brothers' harlequin mask. Much to her surprise, the man underneath stared back at her with wide, frightened eyes.

"You don't know what it's like," Percy Grimes sobbed, tears forming in his eyes. "Living with him every single day of your life…"

"Living with him?" Spider-Woman wondered, anger turning to confusion. "Who are you living with, your other personality?" she asked, more gently this time as several of the hostages came up around them.

"If it were only that," Percy said sadly. "No, Barton's very real. He's my brother."

"How can he be your brother when there's only one of you?" Spider-Woman wondered, as the police and paramedics came into the soundstage.

"Have you ever heard of chimerism?" Percy asked her.

"What?" Spider-Woman asked in surprise.

"Chimerism," Percy replied mournfully, before spelling it out for her. "Look it up on Wikipedia, and you'll see what we truly are."

Tears fell down his cheeks as the police picked him up in the web net and took him away.

Having looked it up on Wikipedia, Gwen was left more confused than ever about the Brothers Grimm's claims.

What could he have meant?

Gwen realized it didn't really matter for the moment. She was more concerned about the coverage of her fight with the Brothers, which had been televised and had been reproduced on YouTube and a hundred other websites. Comments had ranged from those cheering Spider-Woman on to those cursing her for inciting the maniacal Brothers Grimm to put all those people in danger.

She couldn't help but feel more than a little guilty, particularly since the Brothers Grimm had threatened to murder at least two dozen people just to get her to come out and fight him.

I just want to do what's right, she thought sadly as she lay down to sleep that night.

But what do I do when I put even more people in danger because of it?

(Next Issue: Gwen must put her worries about her superheroing on hold, as she's confronted with a much more immediate problem when Liz pleads for her help in trying to deal with Harry Osborn. In the midst of all that, she's also forced to deal with the simultaneous intentions of Ben and Randy. Meanwhile, in the background the mysterious Moonstone begins to play a bizarre psychological game! All this and more in Spider-Woman #17: Bad Moon Rising!)