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A Spotty Record	By : keithcompany Category: Marvel Verse Comics > Crossovers Views: 1777 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or setting of the Marvel Universe. I make no profit from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Miguel Harper.
Should have used his name before, but I never met the kid. He was Rodney's case. The kid who'd been called 'terminal.' Turns out, the doctors knew their stuff. There was a long story involved. Treatment, experimental treatment, promising results, sudden reversal, desperate measures… And now I had on a suit.
Rodney sat at his desk, doing fund-raising. Lots of fundraising. He was cold-calling rich people and explaining the purpose, mission, history, and successes of Grab A Dream. Eyes locked on his blotter. Just sitting there, hanging a non-verbal sign as if to say, 'Far too busy to go to a Funeral, don't ask me.'
I came up to stand at his desk for a moment. He ignored me. Too busy. He finished a call, but didn't lower the phone. Just one-handed searched his computer for another phone number. I laid a dry-cleaner's bag gently across his desk, covering his laptop.
"What's that?" he asked. "Hey… That's my suit. Where'd you get MY suit?"
"Rodney, I know people that can get me your molars if I ask. This was nothing. And they fed your goldfish. Get changed."
"I can't go," he said, shaking his head.
"Got to," I said. "For Miguel's sake."
He barked a bitter laugh. "I did nothing for Miguel. Got my ass handed to me for trying."
"I swear to God, Rodney, your Dream was a success story." I took his phone out of his hand, turned it off. "Get changed."
"You go. She kissed the kid because of you."
"You found her. I had no contacts within her circle. Get changed. Come on. We won't leave you alone for a second."
"NO!" he cried. "I fucked everything up! I pissed off the Cat. She could have killed me. I was an ass."
"Past tense," I said. I picked up the suit and removed the plastic sheeting. "Nice material," I observed. "Do I need to get Marcia to strip your jeans off? She can take you, you know." He sullened at me. I sighed. "Look. You wanna do one last thing for Miguel? His parents watched him die over a very, very long time. That's the image in their head right now.
"When we tell them who you are, they're going to remember him smiling the next day. Telling them how lovely she was. How she kissed him full on the mouth. They're going to remember him, alive, happy, and with a twinkle in his eye. You can do that. You WILL do that. The Black Cat can't attend. So, you're his last hope." I leaned down close to his face. "We aren't going to the funeral. Just the reception. But we will go to the reception."
We stared at each other for a moment. Marcia came in from the front room. "Limo will be here in ten. Are we going to be ready?"
"Don't make me release the hounds," I whispered. "You know I will."
"Are you talking shit about me again?" Marcia demanded.
"Just using you as a threat," I replied, loudly.
"Oh my God, you make one prosecutor cry," she started to shout.
"I'll be ready," Rodney said. "If only to shut you people up." He grabbed the suit and went to the restroom. Dara gave him a thumbs-up as he passed.
Marcia spoke in a subdued voice. "How's he holding up?"
"He really needs to hear the parents thanking him," I said.
"As much as they need to thank him," she nodded.
Nine minutes later, we were settling into the back of the limo. Rodney suddenly turned to me. "I don't have goldfish."
"It's the Black Cat," I said. "There's an excellent chance you do, now."
"Might check the gravel for stolen jewels," Marcia muttered.
----------
Didn't know Miguel was Irish. His reception was a full-blown wake. His request, he wanted people to remember him by doing all the drinking he'd never be able to do.
I hadn't intended to drink much, but people insisted.   And it was for Miguel. But when Marcia started to do the Electric Slide on top of the bar, I figured it was time to go home. Rodney was passed out at the table with Miguel's folks. That fact didn't stop his mom from telling him story after story of Miguel's childhood. I made apologies, got the Solid Gold Dancer down on the floor, and we went to find the limo.
Dropped my boss off at her place, but I couldn't remember Rodney's place. He was no help, no matter how loudly I shouted at him, so I figured he could sleep on my chair. I was wrestling him across the sidewalk when a young woman gave me a hand.
Really, she took over. She got a grip on Rodney's upper arm and hoisted him over her shoulder, about as easily as I put on a jacket. She was kinda blurry at the moment, but she struck me as way too young and too skinny to be that strong. I stared, trying to figure out who I had just been introduced to.
"Where we goin'?" she asked.
"Elevator," I said, with careful precision. "Tenth floor."
"Right," she nodded. And despite the dead weight on one shoulder, she supported me all the way to my apartment and onto the sofa. Rodney got gently deposited in the chair. Then she sat down beside me. "We need to talk, Mr. Malone."
"I didn't think this was a random encounter," I moaned. "Who are you?"
"Bulldozer," she said. Then in a softer voice, "Call me Marci."
"Okay, Marci. What do we need to talk about? You're a Dream, aren't you? I mean, at least, I remember putting an index card on… On the index bar. Something." I couldn't remember the word 'bulletin board' at the moment. But I did remember the card. "Little girl with a bone disease. Very fragile. Wants to talk to you about being indestructible."
"Yes, sir," she said. "Um. You know I'm wanted, right now, right?"
"Right. Well, there are ways around that."
"You're going to sneak me into the hospital?"
"Yes, of course. Hardly even an issue, any more. Cops don't like it, but the hospital doesn't want confrontation, so nurses and guards won't call the cops."
"No cops?" she asked.
"No cops," I repeated.
"Fuck," she said. I blinked. "My dad's crew is gonna be there when you sneak me in."
"Wait, wait, I know this one," I said. "They're the…."
"Wrecking crew," she supplied after it was clear I wasn't going to. "They have this idea, once they're inside, they can hold the entire ward hostage. Bunch of fragile kids, bunch of, well, ridiculously strong and invulnerable assholes. The city will have to give in."
"Fuck," I said. She nodded.
"But do you know how to contact Thor? He's beaten them before."
"First, I am not, not, not calling the cops, or the supercops, on criminals fulfilling a Dream. Just can't not be not done, no way, no how." We sat there for a moment.
"Second?" she prompted.
"Second, Thor fighting the Cracking Crew in the pediatrics wing? The whole point of the hostages is that no one wants that sort of bludgeoning."
"Oh, right." She got up and stepped towards the door. "Then I guess I can't do the Dream."
"Don't worry about that," I told her. "I know people."
----------
I met Bulldozer in an alley a block from the hospital. As she said, the entire Wrecking Crew was escorting her. Buncha supervillains pretending that wearing black raincoats over their villainy-suits made them look any less threatening. I acted surprised to see Wrecker, Piledriver, and Thunderball, but stayed cheery. "All four of your volunteering? That's great! The more the merrier."
"Uh huh," one of them muttered. One snickered. One asked, "Well, we going in?"
"Not just yet, I need the guard to give me the high sign. The cops have taken to making patrols, we wait until they're clear." They nodded, satisfied with that answer. I pointed to the mouth of the alley. There was a taco cart set up on the sidewalk. "Anyone want a taco while we wait? I'm buying. Oh, hang on." I checked my wallet. "DIdn't really expect so many. No, I got plenty."
They mobbed around the little woman at the cart. She assembled tacos with amazing speed. Soon everyone was crunching through a half-dozen or more. We moved off a bit to clear the cart as a passer-by ordered some for himself.
"Hey, these are really good tacos!" Thunderball said.
"It's the cardamon, the cart operator replied.
"Who the hell puts cardomon in taco meat?" the newcomer asked, incredulous.
"Someone willing to think outside the box!" the woman hissed.
"And that's YOU?!" the customer asked, sneering.
"What's going on?" Piledriver asked, looking suspiciously towards the two at the cart.
"Oh, about that," I said.
Mysterio dropped his Random Pedestrian disguise, as well as the illusion around the cart. Well, the cart was real. Doctor Octopus dropped the meat scoops and tacos from his tentacles and turned to face the Crew. The alley behind us flashed briefly with blue light as Electro stepped into view. Flapping overhead signaled the arrival of The Vulture.   Kraven the Hunter gave a call like a raven from across the street. I stepped back to the wall, tapping Marci on her shoulder.
"What," Octavius said slowly, "are you idiots doing?"
"None of your business!" Wrecker growled. The others formed up on his position, ready to fight. They didn't notice they were lacking a member.
"It's our business," Electro said. "It's all our business."
"You guys are going to ruin the ONE THING we can all take advantage of," Mysterio added.
"Yeah," Piledriver sneered. "You can do CHARITY work. That's a step away from being a god-damned hero."
"Yes," Octavius agreed. He shook his head, turned to Thunderball. "You're the smart one. Have you followed the trial of The Jester?"
"Yes," he started to reply.
"I'm the leader!" Wrecker said.
"And we'll get to you," Mysterio said soothingly. He gestured for Thunderball to continue.
"Yeah, um, five counts of aggravated assault, guilty on all five, awarded 12 years for each count. So, sixty years in prison."
"No," Electro said. "They're served concurrently."
"What?" the Crew all asked. Even Bulldozer standing beside me.
"Due," Doc Oc lectured, "to testimony from the Grab a Dream Foundation, and the youth he talked to, and the youth's teachers, the judge felt that he need not spend 60 straight yeas in prison. He's guilty, and he's paying for his crimes, but the State of New York is satisfied by his doing all five terms at the same time. He'll be up for parole…"
"In seven years," the experienced criminals all chorused.
"So," Doc finished, and his voice shifted from a professor in lecture to, I dunno, an enforcer about to drop a safe on someone, "You will not enter the hospital. You will not threaten children. You will especially not threaten children under the ruse of participating in the Dream. You will wait here until your junior member returns, and you will then go home and think of a crime that's not going to put you at odds with all organized and disorganized crime in New York City." He gave a dismissive wave.
Wrecker drew his prybar from under his coat. "You don't get to tell us what-" He stepped forward. And disappeared. Just fell down through the sidewalk. That part of the sidewalk stood up.
Sandman was straddling a wide hole in the concrete. "Anyone else wanna try swimming in the sewer?"
No one else did. They looked down the hole for a moment. Splashing and profanity echoed in the dark. Piledriver pointed across the street. "We'll, uh, we'll be in the pizza place, when you're ready, Marci."
"Yeah," Thunderball said. "Take, uh, take your time." They walked off across the street. Jaywalking, I noticed, but they were headed away from the hospital.
"We're gonna clear out," Electro said. "Vulture'll keep an eye on those idiots. But the Sinister Six can't really afford to just hang out downtown."
"No, no," I said. "I appreciate what you've done. All I could have asked for." We waited until Sandman had replaced the manhole cover over the sewer, then started walking. She kept glancing back, but I ignored the sounds of footsteps pattering away.
Then we turned the corner. And ran into Daredevil. The demonic hero leaned against an ATM, flipping a coin in the air. "That was, hands down, the weirdest conversation I've ever heard. Bad guys keeping the bad guys from doing bad things. Think they're turning straight?"
"It was an appeal to their self-interest," I said. Don't need to be straight to see where your interests lie."
"But it does help to be able to count to six," he said with a smile. Then he shot something up into the air and swung away.   We hurried on to our appointment.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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A Spotty Record