Brother Spider, Sister Arachnid

In the nearly four years since he had become the amazing Spider-Man, Peter Parker had seen many strange things. Whether it was the many ways in which humans had begun developing bizarre abilities through a variety of accidents and genetic mutations, or concrete and tangible proof that aliens and magic were very real things, Peter thought he'd seen it all.

He realized he was wrong when he woke up in bed to find his Uncle Ben sitting on one side, and Gwen Stacy on the other. To his amazement, Gwen was dressed in the costume of the spectacular Spider-Woman, and looked worn and battered from the many injuries and bruises that covered her body. Struggling to sit up, Peter winced in pain and realized that he'd taken a fairly serious beating himself. Groaning in pain, he lay back on his pillow.

"Let me guess," he said weakly to Gwen. "You brought me back here?"

"Yeah," Gwen nodded. "I was going to let the paramedics take care of you, but then I realized they'd probably need to take off your mask. Someone would probably see your face and release your secret identity to the media."

"Smart girl," Peter grinned. "You only joined the spandex set what, seven months ago?"

Gwen nodded.

"Didn't take you long to learn a lot of the superhero ground rules, did it?" he joked.

"There are rules?" Gwen asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not really," Peter replied. "I'm just supposed to say that so my union rep stays off my back."

SPIDER-WOMAN #25

"BROTHER SPIDER, SISTER ARACHNID"

They sat in silence for a few moments, before Gwen spoke again.

"So now we know each others' secrets," she said.

"Yeah," Peter replied. "Why'd you unmask to us?"

"Because I'd already more or less guessed the truth," Uncle Ben interjected. "You already told me your theories about Spider-Woman, and when I realized she probably had to have known you to recognize you and bring you back home, that pretty much narrowed it down."

"Yeah, I kind of figured you already...wait, what 'theories' are you talking about?" Gwen demanded, her eyes narrowing. "What were you thinking about me?"

"You should tell her, Peter," Uncle Ben nodded, as he stood up. "I'm going to go make some stew-you both look like you could use a good meal."

"Well?" Gwen asked Peter after Ben had left the room. "You were saying?"

"You remember going to Midtown High, right? How you were a year behind me?" Peter began.

"Yeah," Gwen replied. "What about it?"

"Do you remember how all our classes went to that big field trip to Empire State University?" he continued.

"Vaguely," she replied. "The only thing I actually learned was how eager Midtown was for the Homecoming celebrations that they emptied the school for a day to set everything up."

"We were in the same group," Peter replied. "Everybody was randomly split up and put in the same groups. Anyway, do you remember how we got to that one exhibit on genetically altered animals?"

Gwen bit her lip as she searched her memory, and then shook her head.

"I had picked up this glass case full of genetically altered spiders, and then Flash Thompson snuck up on me and tried to give me a wedgie," Peter persisted. "I was so startled I sent the case flying. It shattered on the table, and then sent the spiders flying everywhere."

"Okay, yeah..." Gwen replied, as the memory slowly began to come back.

"That was...well..." Peter stopped, before reaching for his cell phone.

"What are you doing?" Gwen asked.

"Let me see the back of your neck," Peter asked her. "Don't worry, I just want to see something," he continued, in response to her frown.

Shrugging, Gwen leaned in and brushed her hair off to the side so Peter could get a look. He smiled in satisfaction and took a picture with his phone, before releasing Gwen.

"I take it that's for your private collection?" she smiled wryly.

"Look at this," Peter showed her the picture. Gwen blinked in surprise as she saw two tiny pinprick marks on the back of her neck.

"Those are...scars," she said in surprise. "When did that happen? I never saw those in my life!"

"They're almost invisible," Peter explained. "I only saw them because I was looking for them."

"...Wait, how did you know those scars would be there?" she asked suspiciously.

In response, Peter stretched out his right hand, pointing out the two tiny scars on the back of it.

"...They're just like mine," she said in astonishment. "How did-"

"When one of those spiders went flying, it landed on my hand. It bit me and transmitted its mutated DNA into mine," Peter said solemnly. "That was when I started to...change," he finished.

"You mean..." Gwen gasped in astonishment.

"Yeah," he replied. "That spider bite gave me my powers."

Gwen reeled, barely able to comprehend it.

"Then...I..." she stammered.

"One of the spiders bounced off the back of your neck," Peter replied. "I didn't think much of it at the time, but once I saw you fighting crime as Spider-Woman, it all came back to me."

"So I got powers too," she breathed, as so many things began to make sense for her. "I got bitten just like you..."

That realization raised another question, though.

"Wait, hold on!" she exclaimed after a moment. "How come I only started developing my powers now? Why did you get yours right away?"

Peter thought on that for a moment.

"No two genomes are the same, unless they're identical twins," he muttered. "And none of those spiders had the same combination of mutations, either."

"Come again?" Gwen asked in confusion.

"This is just a theory, but I think the unique combinations of the spiders that bit us affected our unique DNA structures differently. In my case, the mutations happened right away. In your case, though, the mutations were...well, 'stored'," Peter explained.

"...Stored?" a befuddled Gwen mumbled.

"The human body typically has several things happen to it over the course of its lifetime," Peter replied. "It loses its baby teeth, it goes through puberty, it shows signs of age, it can lose its fertility, that sort of thing. These things occur at different times for different people, but they can usually be counted on to happen."

"What I'm thinking is that your mutations became set to occur at a specific time in your body's development," Peter continued. "When exactly did your powers start to develop?"

"Almost right after I turned nineteen," Gwen said. "My body started tingling, and then I started developing my powers less than two weeks afterward. I could shoot webs, fire electrical sting blasts, crawl on walls, everything."

"In that case, it's almost like puberty or menopause," Peter explained. "Most people typically start undergoing puberty when they're around eleven to thirteen years old, and women typically experience menopause in late middle age. It occurs at different times for every person, but we're all genetically programmed to have these types of things happen to us."

"So basically, my powers were set to activate around my nineteenth birthday?" Gwen asked incredulously.

"It's just a theory, mind you," Peter explained. "Biology's not my specialty, so I can't say for sure. It would be the most likely explanation, though."

"You're probably right," Gwen realized as Ben came back into the room.

"Soup's on," he smiled. "You kids hungry?"

Gwen and Peter both smiled gratefully.

Montana was one of the Enforcers, the lieutenants who ran the day-to-day operations of the Kingpin's crime syndicate. He oversaw the 'quiet' industries of drug trafficking, prostitution and bookmaking, while Fancy Dan handled internal affairs and administration, and the Ox looked after enforcement and street violence. Very few people apart from the Enforcers knew who the Kingpin was, and in fact many people suspected there was no Kingpin, and that the Enforcers were the triumvirate who actually masterminded the organization.

In truth, the Kingpin liked it that way. Not only did he enjoy the mystique his goons attributed to him, thinking him all-seeing and all-knowing, he also appreciated law enforcement focusing their attention on his underbosses rather than going after the true mastermind.

Wilson Fisk was publicly known as head of Roxxon Incorporated, one of the world's very largest corporations. He certainly relished the immense financial and political power he wielded in that position, although he had never lost his affection for crime. After taking over Roxxon to use it for money laundering, he had eventually built both his corporation and his crime syndicate to the point where he was not only one of the most powerful businessmen in America, but also one of the most powerful criminals on the East Coast.

Tonight the Kingpin waited in his office to hear from Montana, who had absolutely insisted on seeing him as soon as possible. Normally the Kingpin did not appreciate being bothered unnecessarily, but he knew that Montana would never dare risk his wrath by arranging a meeting on the spur of the moment unless he had something very important to say. He leaned forward expectantly in his chair, his massive frame looming over the desk as Montana stepped into his office with a file folder in hand. Montana stepped forward, waiting patiently while the Kingpin lit a cigar, before sitting down when the Kingpin motioned him to do so.

"I presume you have news of importance?" the Kingpin asked.

"You bet I do," Montana said grimly as he tossed the folder onto the Kingpin's desk. As the Kingpin glanced through its contents, Montana continued.

"I double- and triple-checked everything with the hookers, the customers, the cops in our pocket, and all our own men. I got Ox and Fancy Dan to back it up, too. A lot of it is hearsay, but there's just too much of it to ignore."

"Indeed," the Kingpin muttered, his eyes narrowing as he checked the references. "I had no idea that Mr. George Stacy was attempting to play so many different sides at the same time."

"We haven't done anything about him yet, partly because he's still giving Silvermane and Bazin a hard time, and we figured you'd want us to leave him in play for that," Montana explained. "What do you want us to do?"

"Mr. Stacy is responsible for this war," the Kingpin said after a moment. "His actions have cost me a considerable amount of revenue and unwarranted difficulty with the authorities, for no discernable reason. Such actions are intolerable, and deserve brutal, violent revenge."

"So which of our costumes do you want sent after him?" Montana asked.

"None of them," the Kingpin replied. "Rather, I want you and the Ox to spread the word of your findings throughout the streets. Let my competitors know that Mr. Stacy is responsible for setting them against one another and playing off every side he can find. They will react appropriately."

Montana only grinned at his boss's cleverness. The Kingpin was always ready to take the direct approach when he had to, but he also enjoyed manipulating his enemies into destroying one another. Leading superheroes to harass his competitors was almost as much fun as using crooked police officers to take the heat off his own operations and direct it towards his rivals.

"You want to tell Ox and Dan, or should I?" Montana grinned wickedly.

"Come now, Montana," the Kingpin chided him, even as a truly frightening smile crossed his face. "You should know that I always reserve the finest honors for myself."

Uncle Ben's stew was just what Gwen needed, and she immediately felt a lot better. Peter seemed to be on the mend too, eagerly finishing up his second bowl before going for thirds.

"It's funny how many powers we actually share," Gwen said as Peter came back to the table. "I mean, we both climb walls, we both have superhuman strength, we both spin webs-"

"I can't spin webs like you do," Peter shook his head.

"Then how do you-" Gwen began.

"I make it with this special chemical formula I developed," Peter explained, "and I load it into these special web-shooters that I designed. Whenever my webbing runs out, I can just reload with spare cartridges I keep in my belt. I've even come up with a few variants on my usual formula, like making it non-conductive or really elastic. It's paid off when I've fought guys like Electro or Doctor Octopus."

"Wow," Gwen said in amazement. "Did you ever try patenting the formula? You could probably have made a fortune with that stuff!"

"I tried," Peter grumbled, his mood suddenly turning sour, "but the Trapster beat me to the punch."

"The who?" Gwen asked.

"He was a chemist who came up with this stuff called Adhesive X. It's a really powerful industrial glue, and he sold the formula to Osborn Industries. He made a huge fortune in royalty sales, and then he used that money to start his own company designing deathtraps and security systems for everyone from supervillains to government agencies," Peter sighed. "I'd originally intended to patent my spider-web formula, but by the time I'd perfected it the Trapster had already gotten Adhesive X out on the market and no one was interested. Typical Parker luck," Peter sighed.

"Oh," Gwen frowned sympathetically.

"Well, it's not so bad," Peter shrugged. "I mean, I can still use it as Spider-Man. I just wish it didn't cost so much."

"What costs a lot? Your chemicals?" Gwen asked.

"Yeah," Peter replied. "Both the chemicals for my webbing and my Spider Tracers cost a lot of money. It's why I have to work as a staff photographer and tech support at the Daily Bugle, and why I can only go to school on a scholarship," Peter frowned.

"Spider-tracers? You have pheromones too?" Gwen said in surprise.

"What? No, I modified these little electronic homing devices manufactured by ClarkeTech," Peter explained. "I'm not all that good at engineering, but Stuart Clarke's stuff's always been easy to work with. I tinkered with them until I managed to get them to run off my spider-senses. But what did you mean by pheromones?"

"I can mark people with special pheromones, and then I can track them afterwards. It's almost like I have a sixth sense for it-kind of like a 'spider-sense'," she explained.

Peter blinked in surprise.

"You have it too?" he blinked. "Mine acts like a danger sense. Say...your webbing is organic, isn't it?"

"Well...yeah, I guess," Gwen shrugged. "Why do you ask?"

"You don't seem to be eating much more than anyone else," Peter frowned.

"...What does that have to do with anything?" Gwen wondered.

"Producing that much organic material should be requiring you to eat a lot more food than you normally would," Peter shook his head. "Did your appetite get a lot stronger after your powers started to develop?"

"No," Gwen said simply.

"You must have an amazing digestive system," Peter replied in amazement. "Your body shouldn't be able to produce all that webbing without needing a lot of extra nutrition. It probably consumes almost all the energy from the food you eat."

"...I'll take your word for it," Gwen replied after a few moments. "How about my hair and my eyes?" she asked, as she shifted her hair from blonde to black to red and her eyes from blue to green to brown. "All it takes is a thought, and I can change their color."

"That's easy," Peter grinned. "Some spiders can camouflage themselves as a disguise to protect themselves from predators. In our case, animal instinct meets human reasoning. It's just a defensive mechanism to keep anyone from discovering your identity."

"Go figure," Gwen chuckled.

"He did what?" Ben Reilly asked Kitty Pryde incredulously as they sat in the Coffee Bean.

"Uncle Andy threatened Gwen," Kitty said sadly. "I honestly don't understand why."

"Okay, this is just going too far," Ben muttered. "I mean, warning me about Gwen being a gold digger is one thing, but openly threatening her like that? If he felt that strongly about it, he should have told me."

"I honestly don't understand," Kitty shrugged. "I mean, what is it about her that bugs him that bad?"

"Uncle Steve thinks that she's two-faced, always pretending to be nice while only looking out for herself. Mom and Dad really seem to agree with him," Ben explained.

"Why would Uncle Steve care about it?" Kitty wondered.

"Apparently he used to know George Stacy," Ben replied, "and he came away with a really bad impression of George. Think that might have something to do with it?"

"Yeah, but isn't this taking it a little far?" Kitty wondered. "I mean, why would Uncle Steve be so interested in the first place?"

"Good question," Ben furrowed his brow. "I'm going to ask them."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Kitty cautioned him. "I mean, I don't want to get Gwen in trouble. She's my friend."

"She's my friend too," Ben replied, an edge in his voice, "and I don't appreciate Mom and Dad trying to control who I can date. Besides, it's my choice, not theirs."

Kitty only sipped her latte, wondering just how Andrew and Karen Reilly could have gotten such a bad impression of Gwen to begin with.

"There's something I can't help but wonder," Gwen said after she'd helped Peter and Ben clear away the dishes. "When you got your powers, why did you decide to become a superhero? Why didn't you use them to make money, or something like that?"

Peter and Ben looked at one another.

"That's what I initially tried," Peter finally said. "With the way guys like Flash Thompson and Harvey Broxtel used to pick on me, I got really angry. When I realized I had my powers, I got cocky and I decided I could use them to make a lot of money that I could shove in the bullies' faces."

"I came up with my Spider-Man costume to use as a gimmick, and I entered this amateur mixed martial-arts tournament that promised a thousand dollars to anyone who could last three minutes with the champion. With my powers, I didn't even work up a sweat. I could have knocked the guy out, but I was having too much fun humiliating him. He reminded me of all the bullies who used to beat me up."

"So you got your money?" Gwen asked in surprise.

"No, the manager refused to pay me," Peter said. "The champion was his best friend, and I reduced the guy to a laughingstock. The manager said no one would ever take his friend seriously again, and that his career was just about ruined. I protested that I needed the money."

"You forgot to mention why I should give a damn," the manager replied with a sneer.

"I was arguing with the guy when another man ran past us. He'd robbed the manager's cash box, and taken all the money. I could have tripped the guy and caught him, but I was so angry that I just let him go. The manager tried to call me out on it, but I didn't care."

"You forgot to mention why I should give a damn," Peter replied with a sneer.

"And...then..." Peter put his head in his hands.

"I had to work the late shift that night, so my wife May was home alone that night," Uncle Ben picked up the story. "Someone broke into the house and tried to rob it while she was there. May tried to call 911, but the burglar shot her before he fled."

A pall fell over the room as Peter began breathing heavily, before rubbing his temples.

"When I got home, I found the police there and I saw Aunt May dead on the living room floor," Peter explained. "The police had tracked the burglar to an abandoned warehouse, but he was so high on coke that he got into a shooting frenzy whenever he saw anyone. That didn't matter-I was so angry, I did the only thing I could think of. I grabbed some of the special web formula I'd hoped to patent, and some of the web-shooters I'd designed as applicators, and I went after the burglar myself."

"When I caught him, I realized it was the same crackhead I'd let go earlier that afternoon," Peter continue. "I could have stopped him, but I didn't...because I was so angry, so stupid...Aunt May..."

Gwen gasped in horror.

"Just because I didn't care," Peter steeled himself, "I let Aunt May be killed. That was when I learned that, when you have great power, you need to have great responsibility too. That's what Aunt May had always tried to teach me."

"Oh my God..." Gwen breathed. Her mind flashed back to the woman she'd saved from that burning building last Christmas, and how the nurse had told her afterwards of what May Parker had used to say.

"That's why I've kept going as Spider-Man," Peter finally said after a few moments. "I don't want to see anyone else suffer the same kind of loss I did, if I can help it. It's my way of honoring Aunt May's memory-if I have great power, I have a responsibility to use it the right way."

Gwen simply frowned and looked down.

"...So what about you?" Uncle Ben asked her gently. "How come you became a heroine?"

"I used to think I know, but now I'm not so sure," Gwen muttered.

"Well, what did you used to think?" Ben asked.

"I used to think I was a mutant when my powers started manifesting," Gwen explained. "And then I remembered how much my father hated mutants, and how much he hated superheroes. I thought about how much I could spite him if I was both."

"Spite him?" Peter asked incredulously.

"My father's always made me so angry," Gwen explained. "The way he treated my mother like a punching bag, the way he had affairs with other women who were almost as young as me, the way he used to always talk about how he would have rather had a son. The way he always portrayed himself as an upstanding pillar of the community, while I was learning first aid treating my mother's injuries and hiding her bruises with makeup. The way he tried to show himself off as a family man, before he kicked my mother and I out of the house when I was seventeen," she muttered darkly.

Now it was Peter's turn to gasp.

Gwen had always been involved in many different activities in school, ranging from cheerleading to drama, and had always been seen at the trendiest parties with the cutest boys on her arm, but everyone had always thought her to be so cold and haughty, looking available but remaining unobtainable. Everyone had always wanted to either be her or be with her, but her bad temper and supposedly arrogant manner had always kept people from being more than acquainted with her, her social status being due more to her physical beauty and her father's money than any real emotional attachments.

With the more limited social cliques in university, Gwen had begun sticking more closely to only a few personal friends, and rarely befriended anyone she hadn't already known from Midtown High. Even though they'd dated a couple of times, Peter had eventually become soured on Gwen when he thought she was too arrogant and short-tempered to be worth forming a long-term relationship with.

"I...never had any idea," Peter said in amazement. "But you became a costumed heroine just to spite your father?"

"Not exactly the most noble reason, I know," Gwen sighed. "Even worse was how violent I could get-I could have hurt a lot of people with the way I went after my enemies. Eventually, I realized how bad I was getting, so I stopped wearing my costume for a while."

"So, why did you keep doing it?" Uncle Ben asked.

"I honestly don't know," Gwen shrugged. "All I know is that I just can't help myself. Whenever I see something happen, I just have to get involved."

"You have to?" Uncle Ben blinked.

"It's like with my mother," Gwen explained. "Whenever my father beat her up, I always just felt so powerless. I mean, if I could have just been able to do something to protect her..."

"And that's why you keep at being a superheroine," Ben smiled. "You can't bear to see people suffering the same way, can you?"

"...I guess not," Gwen realized with a smile, before she felt a sudden weariness flood through her.

"I should really be going," she said as she got up with a stretch. "I could really use the rest."

"Wait!" Peter called out to her as she turned to go.

"What?" Gwen asked as she turned around again. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me," she assured him.

"Likewise with me," Peter nodded. "But what I wanted to say was, that if you ever need help with anything, or you ever even just need someone to talk to, just let me know and we'll be happy to help."

"Likewise with me," Gwen grinned, winking as she gave a thumbs-up to the Parkers, before making her way upstairs and out Peter's bedroom window to web-swing home.

Entry #6:

The streets are running red with blood.

The city is at war.

New York's crime lords reveal themselves for the paranoid, desperate fools that they are.

The words I whisper in George Stacy's ear, the lies and the false rumors that I make him spread, show New York's ugly side. In their fear and suspicion, the people turn on one another, dropping their civilized facades as they display their true characters.

The devices I have planted in George's computer and George's telephone record every detail of the messages he receives, and transmit to him what he must say and what he must do. The gasses I subjected him to make him my puppet, uncompromising and fully obedient.

Once again, I have to reflect on the irony of using masks and manipulation to reveal the true colors of these pathetic fools. The pumpkin I wear reveals the truth about who I am, the fact that I do these things because I know that I'm not supposed to, because I enjoy the fun such activities bring me. But everyone else is just too scared to admit the truth about themselves, too frightened to acknowledge the darkness that lurks within them.

But now, everything is coming to a head. The crime lords are becoming aware that George Stacy is double- and triple-crossing them, and his whole house of cards is about to come crashing down around his head.

And then I will strike.

Ah, Gwen Stacy...not a day goes by that I don't think about how much I hate you. How much I will make you suffer, how much I will make you weep, how much I will make you scream.

I have other, larger goals in mind, of course. But you, my dear Spider-Woman, still have a place in my cold, black heart.

Crushing you is going to be the most enjoyable part of all.

(Next Issue: As the New York gang lords realize that they have been played for fools by the double-crossing and triple-crossing George Stacy, they become determined to pay him back for manipulating them. While Spider-Woman tries to protect her father, the murderous Jack O'Lantern puts the final phase of his deadly plan into motion! All this and more in Spider-Woman #26: Hellfire At Midnight!)