Gangster's Paradise

Philippe Bazin was not amused.

Perhaps the most restrained of New York's four major crime bosses, Bazin preferred to operate under the radar, not arousing the wrath of the New York Police Department or the city's superheroes unless he had to. He preferred to operate with a steel fist wrapped in a velvet glove-not seeking out conflict with his rivals or the authorities, but ready to mercilessly crush his foes if provoked. It had been a very effective policy, particularly in maintaining his position against repeated attacks by the Kingpin, to say nothing of the various up-and-coming sharks he had destroyed over the years.

Today, however, Bazin's lieutenants were treated to a rare display of emotion from their boss. From his impeccably trimmed moustache and beard to the dark but crisp and expensive suits he preferred to dress in, Bazin's appearance normally matched his quiet but intense demeanor. Today, however, an angry dark-red pallor flushed his cheeks, and there was an unmistakable edge in his voice.

"That impetuous fool!" Bazin shouted, slamming his fist against his desk when he heard the report describing how the Maggia had been responsible for tipping off the police to his lucrative child pornography ring. Forced to temporarily shut down his depraved operations while his men moved everything to a new location, Bazin had taken considerable heat from several of his customers, who were deathly afraid of being linked to the sickening "business" if the police discovered it. Some of them were considering jumping ship to other suppliers, despite whatever assurances Bazin had tried to give them.

"How far have the police gotten?" Bazin demanded his lieutenants, leaning back in his chair and tapping his fingers against each other irritably.

"Not very, Mr. Bazin," one of his henchmen assured him. "We got the signal out in enough time, and Mr. Alfonse is confident that we can resume operations within a couple of weeks."

"See that you do," Bazin ordered. "In the meantime, I should like to have a word with George Stacy about the Maggia's role in the Judge Baylor assassination, to say nothing of the bribes they've been paying assorted members of the DEA." Recruited to help Bazin's syndicate launder its money, George Stacy had been an invaluable aid both for his financial acumen and the intelligence he'd passed on to Bazin.

"Also," he ordered, "I want contact with Boomerang, Sabertooth and the Constrictor. Tell them they won't be attacking immediately, but that they'll be receiving their orders within the week. And pass the word on to our underbosses-things are going to be getting very ugly very fast."

Bazin's henchmen looked at each other uneasily.

Their boss ignored them, simply picking up one of the pawns on the chessboard in front of him and staring at it intently, his eyes narrowing.

Philippe Bazin never started wars.

He finished them.

SPIDER-WOMAN #24

"GANGSTER'S PARADISE"

Gwen Stacy waved to her friends as they pulled away in Harry Osborn's car, her face wreathed in a bright smile. After her aborted vacation at Fire Island, and all the other stresses she'd endured over the last several months, the five days she'd spent on the camping trip with her friends had been just what she'd needed. Rested and renewed, she rang the doorbell to her Aunt Nancy's townhouse with a bounce in her step that had been missing for far too long.

It was with a wordless squeal of joy that Gwen hugged her cousin Jill when she answered the door, before helping Gwen carry her luggage into the house. Aunt Nancy and Gwen's mother Helen Stacy came out to see what was going on, and before long the four women were sharing tea and sandwiches as they chatted over a late lunch.

"We were so worried after what happened at Fire Island," Nancy noted, referring to the attack by the supervillain Polestar. "You weren't hurt too badly, were you?"

"Nothing worse than any of the other beachgoers," Gwen assured her. "It's a good thing that Spider-Woman saved us, though."

"We heard about that," Helen smiled. "She was so brave, protecting all those innocent people like that. They probably all owe her their lives. Her loved ones must be proud of her, whoever she is. I know I would be."

Gwen stopped eating at this.

"…Is something wrong?" Jill asked, noting the expression on Gwen's face.

"…No, I just realized the kind of damage that Polestar guy probably could have done if she hadn't stopped him," Gwen finally said, telling some of the truth but not all of it. "Besides, you seem a lot better,"

"Dr. Lowenstein's been a big help," Helen assured her. "I don't know what I would have done without seeing her…"

They ate in silence for a few minutes, before Gwen spoke up again.

"I know something else that might cheer you up a little," she grinned. "Have you ever heard of The Wiz?"

"You mean that black version of The Wizard of Oz?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah," Gwen replied. "Have you ever seen it?"

"I saw the movie, probably about twenty years ago now," Nancy replied. "Diana Ross was way too old to be playing Dorothy. Michael Jackson was pretty good, though."

"It was a musical before it was a movie," Gwen replied. "Randy Robertson invited me to audition with him for a colorblind production they're doing. It's part of the theater's summer run-they're on a bit of a nostalgia kick."

"Will that be the only thing you do this summer?" Jill asked.

"It depends on how much time I have with work and getting ready for school," Gwen answered. "I might be doing some more work for Roderick Kingsley," she continued, summoning every bit of willpower she had to avoid shuddering, "but aside from that I really don't know."

"That's no big deal," Nancy assured her. "Besides, these are the best years of your life-you should be enjoying your summers more anyway!"

"Is that the voice of experience?" Jill couldn't help but ask.

"Another word and you're grounded for a month," Nancy scowled with mock anger, as all four of the Stacy women fell to giggling.

"Supervillain psychology?" Mr. Howard asked, blinking in surprise at the young woman in front of him. "And what, exactly, will be your subject?"

"Exploring the motivations for supervillains dressing the way they do," Maggie Beck replied unflappably. "People have been donning masks and costumes for centuries for all sorts of purposes, everything from festival to ritual to disguise. My thinking is that many of these supervillains are simply carrying on the tradition."

"A tradition, hmm?" Mr. Howard rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "My own belief was that decades of social conditioning by comic books was what led many super-powered individuals to dress in the unusual attire they wear."

"That's a part of it, but more than that it also reveals something of who they are," Maggie replied. "People often dress in Halloween costumes based on their personal preferences, and it's my feeling that for many supervillains their costumes are a reflection of their personalities. Indeed, it's somewhat ironic that they need to dress in costumes to reveal parts of their characters they otherwise wouldn't. We all take on different parts of our identities at different times, so I don't see why it should be different for supervillains."

"You forget that supervillains don't always tend to be balanced or logical people," Mr. Howard pointed out.

"True, but that's why this warrants further research," Maggie insisted. "I already have some avenues I want to pursue."

Mr. Howard thought on that for a while.

"Very well," he finally agreed. "You realize you'll be subject to the standard citation and ethics rules for graduate theses, right?"

"Of course," Maggie nodded.

In her mind, she was already reflecting on the bizarre attire of the supervillains, from 8-Ball to Screaming Mimi to the Green Goblin to the mysterious Jack O' Lantern.

She found the pumpkin-headed maniac's ravings perhaps the most intriguing of all.

It was while reviewing a copy of the script of The Wiz and rehearsing the song she planned to sing as part of her audition that Gwen heard her cell phone ring. Looking at the call display, her heart sank as she saw it was from Kingsley Cosmetics, knowing that it was almost certainly Roderick himself who was phoning. Knowing that she couldn't afford to lose his good graces, she answered her phone politely, doing her best to keep her voice even.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Gwen!" Roderick Kingsley greeted her cheerfully. "How was your vacation?"

"Very good, thank you," Gwen replied. "How about you?"

"I don't do vacations, honey," Kingsley said. "I've been hopping from Milan to Paris to Los Angeles to get ready to unveil my summer collection! That's why I'm calling-you did some fantastic work earlier this month, and I was wondering if you could come back again."

"I'm afraid I can't," Gwen shook her head. "I've got rehearsals, my job at the coffee shop, and classes to set up."

"The money's really good," Kingsley persisted.

"No, I really appreciate the offer, but I just can't right now," Gwen said firmly, even as her voice betrayed something of an edge.

"…I see," Kingsley finally finished, the cheer gone from his voice. "That's too bad," he snapped, before he hung up.

Aside from privately wishing he hadn't called her, Gwen found herself more than a little unnerved by Kingsley's tone.

Shaking her head, she tried to get back to her rehearsals, but the note of anger she'd detected in his voice lurked at the back of her mind.

The first day of July was bright and cheerful, just as Gwen had hoped it would be, particularly as she got off the bus to meet Randy Robertson before they headed down together for the audition. Apart from the incident with Kingsley, everything had more or less gotten back to normal for Gwen, as she spent her days working at the coffee shop and her nights catching up on others. Much to her relief, she hadn't needed to go out as Spider-Woman, as the city had been quiet. She hadn't been able to reach Ben Reilly or Mark Raxton, the guy who she'd met at Fire Island, but Randy had been eager to hook up with her again.

"Hey there, gorgeous," Randy caught Gwen in a hug as he emerged from his apartment building. "You ready to knock them dead?"

"You bet," Gwen grinned. "I even watched the movie version of The Wiz last night to bone up."

"Really?" Randy smiled. "What did you think?"

"It was good for the most part," she said. "The only part I didn't like was Diana Ross as Dorothy-she was way too old for the part of Dorothy."

"Yeah…" Randy muttered, frowning a bit.

"I'm sorry, was that something I shouldn't have said?" Gwen asked.

"…It's just that the movie's really iconic for the black community," Randy explained after a moment. "I can understand how you feel, though."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you," Gwen apologized.

"No, it's alright," Randy said. "Actually, they made a lot of changes for the film-we're going by the musical script. It adheres a lot more to Baum's original book."

"I never read it," Gwen admitted. "I heard they made a lot of changes for the Judy Garland film."

"They sure did," Randy nodded. "That's what I really like about the musical-we're actually more faithful to Baum's original version. None of that crap about Glinda not telling Dorothy the secret of the slippers, either."

"Yeah, that always bugged me," Gwen nodded. "So which role are you going for?"

"The Scarecrow," Randy grinned. "That was Michael Jackson's role."

"How the heck did he move like that, anyway?" Gwen wondered, thinking back to the way Jackson had walked in the film. "I swear, it was like his bones were made of rubber."

Randy only sighed sadly at that.

"Oh no, did I-" Gwen began.

"No, no you didn't…" Randy shook his head. "Your mentioning it just reminds me of how people see Michael these days."

"Yeah, I couldn't help but wonder about that," Gwen replied.

"Well, just remember this-whatever that man was accused of, there's no way in hell he would have ever done it," Randy said determinedly. "It just makes me mad to think that that's probably going to be what people will remember him for, more than his music."

Gwen wasn't sure what to say.

"So…" she said after a few minutes of silence, "what classes are you going to be taking this fall?"

"I'm still working my schedule out," he replied. "Probably the same mix of courses I had last year. How about you?"

"The same," Gwen said, rubbing her chin, "but what I'm more worried about is how I'm going to pay for it. Student loans aren't cheap, you know…"

"You're telling me," Randy muttered. "Last I heard, there were rumors of another tuition hike, too."

"Another year over and deeper in debt," Gwen sighed.

"That's par for the course these days," Randy grumbled.

Returning home later that evening, Gwen wasn't sure her rendition of Soon As I Get Home was as good as it could have or should have been. On the other hand, Randy had brought down the house with his take on I Was Born on the Day Before Yesterday.

"Hi Gwen," Kitty Pryde greeted Gwen as she returned to the apartment they shared. "How'd it go?"

"Not as good as I'd hoped," Gwen said. "I should have spent more time practicing. Then again, my voice has never been as good as I'd like."

"Are you kidding?" Kitty asked. "It sounds great to me."

"Yeah, but I can never seem to get as much of a vocal range as I try for," Gwen explained. "Randy's got a hell of a voice on him, though. He's a lock for the part of the Scarecrow."

"So what's the status between you and him?" Kitty asked. "I mean, he seemed pretty happy to hear that you were back."

Gwen blushed slightly.

"I don't know," she said. "He seems like he really wants to go steady right away. I'm not sure I'm ready for that, honestly."

"Ben will be glad to hear that," Kitty grinned. "He called while you were out, and asked you to call him."

Gwen only smiled back as she reached for the phone.

Andrew Reilly had been expecting the call ever since he heard his son Ben had called Kitty's apartment hoping to get in touch with . None too pleased with his son, he had personally waited until the return call came, an ugly scowl stamped on his face.

"Hello?" he grimaced, hoping it was Kitty.

"Hi, is Ben there?" Gwen asked on the other end, her voice dripping with false sincerity.

"Ah, Miss Stacy," Andrew said, not bothering to disguise the edge in his voice. "I was afraid you'd be the one calling."

"P…pardon?" Gwen asked, no doubt confused as to how Andrew could have seen through all her bullshit.

"Let me be perfectly clear, young lady," Andrew warned her. "I do not like you. People like you make me sick."

"I…what?" Gwen fumbled, her voice now filled with pain, as she realized how right Andrew was.

"Don't think you don't know what I'm talking about," Andrew reproached her. "Always acting as if you're so perfect, looking down your nose at everyone else. Pretending to help someone out of the goodness of your heart, before you move on to help the next poor benighted soul who will be graced with your presence."

"No…I…" Gwen tried to interrupt, her voice cracking as Andrew exposed her for what she really was.

"Hence my warning to you," Andrew continued, his eyes narrowing. "I have many powerful friends in this city, and I can make your life very miserable if you so choose. Very, very miserable. Do I make myself clear?"

Gwen's stunned silence let him continue.

"Stay away from my son," Andrew finished bluntly. "You're not good enough for him. Remember that."

With that, Andrew hung up unceremoniously before Gwen could answer.

Kitty initially listened to Gwen's call with amusement, but her amusement turned to alarm as she saw the grieved and wounded look that crossed Gwen's face before she hung up.

"What happened?" Kitty asked in alarm, before Gwen related what Andrew Reilly had said.

"That's…that's just crazy!" Kitty said in disbelief. "Why would Uncle Andy say something like that?"

Gwen only shrugged sadly, trying to blink away the tears that appeared in her eyes.

"I don't know what he's thinking," Kitty continued, shaking her head. "I mean, he'd never…do you want me to talk to him?"

"No," Gwen murmured. "I don't want to risk getting on your uncle's bad side any more than I already am."

Patting Gwen's shoulder comfortingly, Kitty seethed inwardly, wondering what could have possibly led her uncle to jump to such ridiculous conclusions.

Ben wasn't going to be happy to hear about this.

It had been building for weeks, the tension simmering in the background as George Stacy's double-dealing led the leaders of the New York crime syndicates to become increasingly restive and wary. Everyone was nervous and on edge-they knew that all hell was going to break loose-and the only question was when.

The first spark came when the New York Police Department raided the hastily-vacated nerve center of Philippe Bazin's child pornography ring, which led Bazin to strike back by firebombing the Maggia's largest betting parlor while turning Sabertooth and Boomerang loose on Silvermane's top lieutenants. At the same time, Bazin released the information he had on the Judge Baylor assassination to the police, which prompted Silvermane to retaliate by blowing up several of Bazin's upstate meth labs.

It was then that the Kingpin tightened the screws on the distracted Maggia by leaking word of what was supposed to be a safehouse for the Acolytes of Magneto to the authorities, but was in truth a major supply warehouse for the Maggia. Attacked from two sides, it was all Silvermane could do to oppose Bazin and the police at the same time over the next several days.

Such was the scenario when the Ox, the Kingpin's lieutenant in charge of enforcement and intimidation, addressed the six gang bangers seated in front of him at the Bar With No Name. Unlike many other street gangs, which were formed based on race or nationality, the Nasty Boys were mutants who'd banded together to use their powers for criminal fun and profit. They'd made their name in Chicago and Buffalo as a hit squad, trashing the bordellos, meth labs and other "establishments" run by their employers' rivals. Although they'd eventually been defeated by the X-Men, the Boys had managed to avoid arrest and made their way to New York to join the Kingpin's organization.

The first operation the Ox had sent the Boys on had been thwarted by Sleepwalker, Spider-Man and Daredevil, but the Ox realized that it was only natural that so many heroes would be attracted to such a high profile assignment. The Boys' record in making life a living hell for their criminal rivals was still extremely impressive, and the Ox had another operation in mind for them.

"So, what's the plan?" Gorgeous George asked as he sat up in his chair. The Boys' leader resembled nothing so much as a pile of living purple slime, for all that he had the face, hair and general shape of a human being.

"Yeah," the pink-haired Ruckus chimed in. "We've been hearing about the war between Silvermane and Bazin. Is the Kingpin going to get in on the action?" he smiled eagerly.

"You guys feel like razing a city block or two?" the Ox asked. "A couple of Bazin's top lieutenants live in the area, and their deaths will significantly undermine his operations. You can see why the Kingpin would like to see them killed."

"Where is it?" Gorgeous George asked, before the Ox described the area.

"Not as high class as I would have expected," Solarr commented. His long bright orange hair was accented by the gold hue of his eyes and many of his teeth, to say nothing of his loud yellow, orange and red clothing.

"That's the thing about Bazin, you have to understand," the Ox explained. "He's more low-key than the other bosses, and many of his lieutenants share his temperament. Hence they aren't as ostentatious as the likes of Crimewave's or Silvermane's under bosses."

"Whatever," the beastly Hairbag, who looked less like a man than a humanoid wolfhound with porcupine-like quills all over his arms and back, and with sharp claws and fangs in place of fingernails, toenails and teeth. "You want 'em all dead, right?"

"Yes," the Ox explained. "Or at least badly maimed or crippled. Something that can undermine Bazin's operations."

"It's just like my dad always said," Gorgeous George said philosophically, as the rest of the Boys grinned at one another. "Find a job you like and you'll never have to work a day in your life."

As soon as she'd gotten off work the next day, Gwen had changed into Spider-Woman and begun shadowing her friend Harry Osborn. Ever since she'd heard about the increased gang violence taking place across the city, Spider-Woman had become concerned that someone might try to strike back at Norman Osborn through his son Harry. Gwen had only met Norman Osborn once, back before her powers had begun to manifest, but given that he was such a close associate of her father it wouldn't have surprised her at all if Osborn was dealing with organized crime.

Harry had dropped Liz at her apartment after they'd left the movie theater, and had now come back to his own place to settle in for the night. Observing Harry's apartment from the rooftop of a nearby building, Spider-Woman could barely make out Harry as he drank some milk from the carton, before going into his bedroom and turning out the lights. Looking around at the apparently deserted streets, Spider-Woman yawned briefly, noting that there didn't seem to be so much as a stray cat or a squirrel walking around tonight.

Unfortunately, that was when the large van pulled up, blaring loud hip-hop music. The six figures that poured out of it were unfamiliar to Spider-Woman, but the way they set out attacking the nearby apartment buildings and houses was all too familiar. One of the men threw deadly fireballs at one house, while another seemed to howl a deadly scream that shattered the windows and badly damaged the structure of another house. Yet another one of the punks was gesturing as he seemingly brought the large trees on a lawn to life, using them to smash into and tear down the home they sat in front of. People began screaming in terror as they ran out of their homes, where they were brutally cut down by the rest of the super-powered punks.

Filled with rage at what she was seeing, Spider-Woman spun a webline to the street and slid right down it before charging into the melee, heedless of the fact she was outnumbered six to one.

No one would have ever accused the Amazing Spider-Man of being a coward, but the red-and-blue-clad hero found himself distinctly unnerved as he swung towards the upscale neighborhood where Ben Urich had heard that the Nasty Boys were going to strike. Spider-Man had defeated the Nasty Boys once before, when the Kingpin had assigned them to murder a group of witnesses that were set to testify against his crime syndicate, but that was with Sleepwalker and Daredevil there to help him. Unfortunately, Daredevil was already tied up in Hell's Kitchen and Sleepwalker was nowhere to be found, which left Spider-Man more than a little uncertain about taking on six mutant killers all on his own.

Urich had alerted the police to the attack, but so far Spider-Man hadn't seen any of their presence in the area. As Peter Parker, Spider-Man had heard Urich talk about the unrest in the New York Police Department, with honest officers like Captain Philip Watson, head of the Organized Crime Unit struggling to root out the dirty cops who were undermining the department. So far, for all of Watson's other accomplishments, he hadn't been having much luck.

Spider-Man shook the disturbing thoughts from his mind as he landed in the middle of the Nasty Boys, firing his webbing at Ruckus and Ramrod and pulling them off balance as he dodged Hairbag's quills.

"Boy, the Sex Pistols would be disappointed," Spider-Man quipped as he rolled around one of Solarr's fireballs and then charged in to slug the fiery mutant. "Is this what the punk movement's come to these days?"

Unfortunately, Spider-Man was forced to dodge yet again, this time to avoid Gorgeous George's lunging at him in a tidal wave of purple ooze. Caught in midair, he couldn't hope to avoid the punch that Slab threw at him, sending him flying to crash into the wall of a burning house, before slumping to the ground in pain. Struggling to get to his feet, Spider-Man's heart sank as he realized that all six Nasty Boys had focused their attention on him, and were getting ready to strike.

"Hardly fair, don't you think?" Spider-Man muttered as he stepped into a fighting stance. "Why, I-" he was suddenly cut off as the electrical sting blasts came from behind, knocking several of the Boys off their feet. As the rest of the Boys turned around in alarm, Spider-Man looked past them to see the spectacular Spider-Woman charging at them, spraying Hairbag in the fact with a blob of webbing before springing into the air and catching a street lamp with another webline. Swinging through the air, she caught Slab right in the stomach with a vicious double kick, sending him flying back to crash heavily on the ground.

Eagerly pressing the advantage, Spider-Man came at Ruckus from behind as he was about to fire a sonic scream at Spider-Woman. Firing a webline from one hand, Spider-Man twisted Ruckus around and then used his other hand to fire a glob of webbing that sealed the pink-haired mutant's mouth. Cursing as he tried to blast the webbing free, Ruckus collapsed as Spider-Man delivered a haymaker that dropped him flat on his back. The wall-crawler would have followed up his blow, but he was forced to dodge as Hairbag came charging in, howling murderously.

With the agility of a trapeze artist, Spider-Man twisted through the air, but again he was powerless to avoid the quills Hairbag shot at him. Spider-Man screamed in pain as the quills sank into his back and his legs, landing painfully on the ground. He tried to get up, but then he was pummeled by the nearby trees, which Ramrod gleefully manipulated to attack the outnumbered hero.

Spider-Woman backflipped over Solarr's fireball, causing it to scorch Slab as the giant mutant staggered to his feet. Being dropped to one knee didn't stop Slab from lashing out with his free hand and catching Spider-Woman, sending her flying to land painfully on the pavement. Rolling around on the ground, Spider-Woman suddenly felt herself engulfed by the slimy Gorgeous George, who oozed up from the ground around the arachnid heroine to crush her. Spider-Woman retaliated by firing another sting blast in George's face, forcing him to let up on the attack before she sprang away again. Unfortunately, she was confronted by Slab, who caught her in midair, swung her around and sent her flying to crash into a tree across the street.

Dizziness whirled through Spider-Woman's head as she slumped to the ground. As Slab stomped towards her, she looked past him to notice that Solarr, Ruckus and many of the rest of the Nasty Boys were attacking the innocent bystanders who lived in the neighborhood and were fleeing for their lives in a panic. Gunshots rang out as some of the residents tried to fight back, but the Nasty Boys merely laughed and fired back with their fireballs, barbed quills and sonic shouts, which proved far more effective than the guns wielded by their opponents.

Shouting in frustration, realizing that she was almost powerless to stop the mutant killers, Spider-Woman fired her sting blasts at them to distract them. Looking around frantically for Spider-Man, she saw him bravely trying to web up the trees Ramrod was using to attack the bystanders. Unfortunately, Solarr caught him dead on with an explosive fireball, causing Spider-Man to howl in pain and fall to the ground, as Hairbag pounced on him.

Spider-Woman herself was no better off. Running to help Spider-Man, while privately wondering what was taking the police and emergency crews so damn long, Spider-Woman was blown off her feet by a sonic blast from Ruckus. As she sat up, Ruckus leered at her and fired another blast, this time amplifying the sounds of the gunshots that had been fired in the night. Spider-Woman rolled under the blast and fired a webline at Ruckus with one hand, tripping him up before she caught him in the chest with a sting blast from her other hand, knocking him senseless.

One of the Nasty Boys was down, but five more were still up and causing bloody mayhem everywhere Spider-Woman looked. Her frustration built as she realized she couldn't help every one of the Boys' victims at once, as they spread their mayhem around. Looking briefly for Spider-Man, she felt a glimmer of hope as she saw him send Hairbag flying with a vicious kick, but that hope was smashed as Ramrod grappled Spider-Man again with a tree and flung him more than thirty feet into the air, whereupon he crashed into the wall of Harry's apartment building and slumped towards the ground.

Weary from her own injuries, Spider-Woman tried frantically to decide what to do next, but the Nasty Boys had apparently satisfied themselves, as they began running for their van. Gorgeous George oozed around the unconscious Ruckus, picking him up and carrying him. A part of Spider-Woman made her want to pursue the Boys, but she knew she couldn't possibly defeat them. Instead, she made herself useful putting out some of Solarr's fires with her webbing and digging people out of the wreckage of their homes.

Several wearying minutes passed until the emergency crews finally arrived, taking over from the exhausted Spider-Woman. Looking around with concern, she wondered what could have happened to Spider-Man. Spider-Woman eventually caught sight of a red-gloved hand sticking out from under a pile of rubble, and eventually pulled Spider-Man free.

He was badly cut and even more badly bruised, with an ugly second-degree burn on his back. To Spider-Woman's immense relief, Spider-Man was breathing normally, and she could see that his injuries, while serious, were not life-threatening. She had learned a great deal about first aid when treating her mother's injuries, and Spider-Woman could tell that Spider-Man would be alright with a few days' rest.

Spider-Woman stood up straight, cradling the unconscious Spider-Man in her arms as she started to head for the paramedics. A sudden thought made her pause, as she realized that Spider-Man's mask had been torn in several places, and his face had become mostly visible. The last thing Spider-Woman wanted to do was reveal Spider-Man's secret identity, since the paramedics would have to remove his costume to treat him. It was all too likely that some bystander or paramedic would almost certainly reveal that information to the public if they could see it.

If that type of information got out, Spider-Man and all his loved ones would be in terrible danger.

As she leaned in more closely at Spider-Man's face to get a better look at the bruises that covered it, Spider-Woman gasped in recognition at what she saw.

The face of Peter Parker.

Nodding in determination, she knew what she had to do.

Ever since his nephew had begun fighting crime as Spider-Man, Ben Parker had become used to the strange sights he saw in and around New York. On more than one occasion, Ben had also come home to find Peter badly injured and in need of first aid, something Ben had always been able to provide. His wife, the late May Parker, was a nurse who had taught her husband many things about caring for the wounded.

As he came home from his monthly Elks Club meeting, Ben wasn't particularly surprised to see the light on in Peter's upstairs room. Either Peter was brushing up for some more of the work he was doing as part of his internship at Fireheart Industries, or he was resting up from his injuries.

Making his way into the house, Ben noticed that the first aid kit was missing from its usual place. Sighing, he made his way up the stairs to check on Peter.

Ben Parker had seen many unusual things in his life, but he was still shocked by seeing his nephew Peter Parker lying unconscious in his bed stripped to his underwear, covered in bandages and icepacks, with his tattered and scorched Spider-Man costume draped over a chair. Sitting in another chair on the other side of the bed was a lovely young woman with raven-black hair, clad in a red and gold costume, who looked rather battered and worn out herself. She looked up in alarm as Ben came into the room, having been too absorbed in looking after Peter to notice Ben coming in.

They stared at each other for several moments, the air thick with tension.

"…What happened here?" Ben Parker finally ventured.

Spider-Woman took several minutes to explain everything that had happened with the Nasty Boys, and how Peter had been very badly hurt trying to stop the Nasty Boys. When she'd seen who Peter was, she realized she could take him home and treat him herself without the risk of exposing his secret identity.

That last admission made Ben raise an eyebrow.

"And just how did you recognize Peter, might I ask?" he queried.

Spider-Woman closed her eyes and sighed, before she reached up and lowered her face mask. Even as she did so, her deep black hair turned to a bright blonde, and a pair of blue eyes blinked out from behind the mask she had lowered.

"You're…" Ben gasped in surprise.

"Yes," Spider-Woman admitted. "I'm Gwen Stacy."

(Next Issue: When Gwen reveals her secret identity to Peter and Ben Parker, they return the favor by helping Gwen realize the truth about her origins and all her powers. As they share their secrets and their reasons for becoming superheroes, Peter and Gwen come to realize that they share a very unique bond. All this and more in Spider-Woman #25: Brother Spider, Sister Arachnid!)