BTTX-2: Time of the Spider
by Flaming Trails
A BTTF/"Spider-Man"/"X-Men" Crossover
Disclaimer: I don't own BTTF, Spider-Man, or X-Men. If I did, I'd have Doc Brown try to fix some of the continuity problems in the latter two. (Or start a wicked new time travel story arc.)
Chapter 1
Thursday, October 13th, 2004
Hill Valley
10:15 A.M.
"DOC OCK FOUND DEAD"
Last night, police divers finally located the body of Dr. Otto Octavius, better known as the infamous "Dr. Octopus," in the Hudson River. The body was taken directly to Midtown Hospital, where an autopsy was performed. Despite the extensive decay of the body, medical professionals were able to determine that Dr. Octavius had died from intense heat exposure. Dr. Octavius was best known in the scientific community for his work in creating and stabilizing fusion reactions. In the community at large, he was best know for his criminal exploits as the criminal Dr. Octopus, aided and abetted by the vigilante Spider-Man.
Dr. Emmett "Doc" Brown sighed and set his copy of The Daily Bugle down. "Such a waste," he muttered. "Such a terrible waste."
"What is, honey?" Clara asked, poking her head in from the kitchen.
Doc held up the paper. "They found Otto Octavius's body. I was just thinking what a shame it was that his talent is gone forever. The man was a genius, Clara. I talked to him once, at a science conference. He had some truly earth-shattering ideas, including that fusion generator he built." Doc put the paper down again and looked at it. "I really would have never imagined that he'd go insane and end up a twisted supervillian, bent on completing a project no matter what the cost."
Clara came in, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. "Well, the reports did indicate that he'd lost his mind after the accident. Didn't he start talking to those actuators he built?"
"That's true, yes. Although," Doc admitted, looking thoughtful, "those arms were supposed to contain a sort of AI. Perhaps they were talking to him. Or, more accurately, they were feeding him his own dark desires."
"Well, that's certainly an interesting take on it. When did you become a psychologist?"
Doc smiled. "Well, I did make it a point to study a little of everything while in college." His smile vanished as he took one last look at the paper. "Godspeed Otto. May you be reunited with your Rosie."
Clara kissed Doc's forehead. "Amen." She took the paper away. "So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?"
"Well, Marty and Jules are coming over to help me with refining my line of automatic breakfast makers. The pancake cooker is still on the fritz." Suspiciously, he added, "Has been ever since I served up my last batch of pancakes two weeks ago."
Clara looked at him with wide eyes. "Oh, Emmett, we did not sabotage your machine."
"I mean, I know now that trying to make a decent pancake mix out of sawdust is a bad idea. . . ."
Clara couldn't help but laugh. "I still don't know how you came up with that idea in the first place."
'I'll give you a hint, it was on an empty stomach." Doc got up from the table and stretched. "Do you have any special plans for the day?"
"J.C.'s coming over to help me organize our photo album -- the real one, not the public one. We've put it off for far too long." She sighed nostalgically. "Do you remember when she first came to live with us? How excited she was to have a new family?"
Doc nodded, smiling. "I was so glad when she agreed to come. I always kind of wanted a daughter. I'm just sorry we missed out on the first 17 years of her life."
"Me too. But it's good enough that we got to be there for the next 17." Clara rolled her eyes playfully. "Now if only she'd marry and give me some grandkids!"
Doc laughed. "You say that about all our children."
"I miss having little ones around. The house seems so empty now that they've grown up and moved out."
"We still have the McFly kids, you know. Marty and Jennifer don't mind if we spoil them a bit."
"Of course I love Douglas and Marlene, Emmett. I'd just like some babies from our gene pool. And don't start with how J.C. was adopted," she warned, seeing Doc open his mouth. Doc just smiled.
There was a knock at the door. "I'll get it," Clara said. "It's probably J.C. anyway." Doc nodded absently, his attention back on the Octavius article. Clara went to the door to find Marty and Jennifer standing there, looking rather excited. "Oh, hello you two! I didn't realize you were coming over as well, Jennifer."
"We've got some news for everyone," Jennifer explained, grinning. "It's about my cousin."
"Really? Then come in and tell us all about it." She led the couple inside, calling ahead," Emmett, Marty and Jennifer are here!"
"Don't forget us," a high-pitched voice piped up from outside.
"Wait up, Mommy and Daddy," another similar voice agreed.
The adults chuckled as Douglas and Marlene, the McFly's six-year-old twins, raced in. "What were you doing dawdling in the yard instead of staying with us?" Jennifer gently scolded.
"We found this really cool bug," Marlene explained.
"Marlene was poking it with a stick," Douglas nodded.
Marty couldn't help but smile a little. "Sounds interesting enough. But you should really try to stick with us whenever we go somewhere."
"But it was a really cool bug," Marlene protested.
"We're sure it was, but we don't want you going off where we can't find you" Jennifer said firmly. "We don't want anything happening to you."
"We know, Mommy," Douglas said, hugging her leg in apology.
"Great Scott, Marty, since when do you arrive here before me?" Jules's voice said.
Marty waved over his wife's head. "Hey Jules. Hey Verne."
"Hey Marty," Verne waved back. "Jules's car battery died, so I had to give him a ride."
"I just couldn't get it to recharge," Jules added with a sigh. "Guess I'll have to pick up a new one after we're done here." He leaned down and ruffled the twins' hair. "Hey kids, how are you?"
"We found a cool bug in the yard," Marlene reported. "Big and yellow. I poked it with a stick."
"Cool," Jules grinned. "I bet Verne would be interested in that."
"Yeah," Marlene said, going over to hug Verne. "Do you think you could talk to it?"
"I dunno -- my success rate with bugs isn't that great," Verne shrugged. "I'm better with birds and higher-order mammals. But I'll try."
"Good."
Doc noticed that Jennifer was holding an envelope. "Is that your news?" he asked her curiously.
"Yup." She looked around. "Is the whole family coming over today?"
"Well, I did invite J.C. over to help me with our photo album."
"Okay then, I'll wait for her."
"Seems like quite an important piece of news," Doc noted.
"It's important to me, at least," Jennifer admitted. "And you too, actually. So I figured I might as well tell everyone at once."
"Wise plan."
"Are you still making sawdust food, Doc?" Douglas asked Doc cheerfully.
Doc groaned. "I'm never going to live that down, am I?"
"It was pretty outlandish, Doc," Marty snickered.
"This from a man who, while working through lunch, set all his songs to the Oscar Meyer weiner song."
"Hey, at least I didn't try to eat my notes."
There was another knock at the door. "Hey, Mom, I'm here," J.C. called.
"Come on in," Clara called back. "We're having a bit of an impromptu family reunion."
J.C. laughed as she entered the dining room. "I see. Nice to see you all, of course. How are things at the zoo, Verne?"
"Pretty good -- I finally convinced my supervisors to change Millie the polar bear's diet. She kept complaining to me about how there was too much corn in her food."
"That's good. I don't see why they'd give corn to a carnivore anyway."
"Me either."
"Mommy's got news," Marlene said to J.C. "Something about -- a wedding, right Mom?"
"Marlene, let your mother tell everyone," Marty said. "It's her news after all."
"Sorry."
"Oh, is someone in your family getting married?" Clara asked Jennifer, leading the group into the living room.
"Yup -- my cousin Peter," Jennifer said with a grin. "To his old next-door neighbor, Mary Jane Watson. About time, I say -- he's been mooning over her long enough." She pulled the invitation and a letter out of the envelope. "It's in New York, in Central Park, on November 1st, and we're all invited."
"We?" Verne repeated, surprised. "We don't know Peter."
Marty giggled. "Well, you see, Doc's kind of our wedding present to Peter."
Doc blinked a few times. "Come again?"
"My Aunt May sent along this letter. Dear Jennifer: I hope you and your family and friends are doing well. I really hope that you can make the wedding, as Peter and I would love to see you again. I know that your husband Marty is a very close friend of one Dr. Emmett L. Brown. Dr. Brown is one of Peter's idols, and seeing that he got to meet Dr. Octavius before that whole mess with Dr. Octopus, I think it would be wonderful if Peter got to meet Dr. Brown as well. If he's willing to come, tell him that he and his family are invited to attend the wedding -- I've already talked this over with Mary Jane, and she's willing to accommodate them. I'm looking forward to seeing all of you. Love, Aunt May."
Doc blushed. "One of his idols. I'm flattered."
"Well, I think that's very nice of Peter's mother," Clara smiled. "Of course we'll be attending, right Emmett?"
"Of course," Doc smiled back. "I wouldn't want to disappoint the kid."
"Thanks guys," Jennifer said. "Although I should probably point out that Aunt May is Peter's aunt too. Peter's parents -- my Dad's younger brother and his wife -- died in a plane crash when he was four."
J.C. frowned thoughtfully. "Peter Parker. . . . Whoa! Jennifer, is he the Peter Parker? The one who takes the pictures of Spider-Man?"
"That's him," Jennifer nodded proudly, hands folded on her lap.
"Great Scott!" Jules exclaimed.
"That's cool," Verne agreed, eyes bright. "Spider-Man's one of the big-league superheroes."
"I know. Peter's certainly made good for himself, it seems." Jennifer smiled mischievously at Marty. "I wonder what he'd say if he discovered that my husband was Clockstopper of the X-Men?"
"Probably ask if he could get a few pictures of me in action as well," Marty joked.
"I dunno, Marty," Doc said with a twinkle in his eyes. "Stopping time probably doesn't photograph all that well. Controlling electricity, however--" he stretched out his hand, producing a glowing ball of sparks "-- well, I'm sure that would make for some dramatic pictures."
"Oh, get over yourself, Lightning. I don't think electricity would photograph that well either."
"I wonder if he'd be able to photograph my illusions," J.C. wondered, sucking in her lower lip.
"A camera isn't like the human brain -- I don't think he could," Jules said. "It would make for some amusing pictures, though, seeing people react to nothing." J.C. laughed and nodded.
"My ability would be the best to photograph," Verne bragged. "Can't get much more tangible than animals."
"Boys -- and girl -- stop trying to one-up one another," Clara said mock-scoldingly.
"So, what's Peter like?" Verne asked, leaning back in his chair.
"Well, he's a lot younger than me -- born in 1984, moved in with Aunt May and Uncle Ben in 1988. You guys would like him, he's a science whiz."
"Specializing in what?" Jules inquired. "Physics? Chemistry?"
"He's shown aptitude in physics, but he's most interested in biology." Jennifer made a face. "For some reason, he loves spider biology. He sent me a few rather disgusting pictures once."
"Ewww," J.C. said, wrinkling her nose.
"My thoughts exactly."
"Come on, Mom, those were cool," Douglas grinned.
"Yeah, I like bug guts," Marlene nodded.
"Wonderful children you're raising there," Doc deadpanned, making the McFlys chuckle. "I'll be looking forward to meeting Peter."
Saturday, October 23rd, 2004
New York, New York
3:21 P.M.
Harry. . . .
Harry didn't even glance up from his report. "Hello, Father."
Hello, Father, he says. The little weakling who hasn't done a thing to eliminate Parker. To avenge my death. Why are you delaying, son? You know my secrets! USE THEM!
Now Harry did glance up, looking rather annoyed. His father always bothered him at the most inconvenient times. "I told you, Norman--" that always ticked his father off "-- I'm taking care of it!"
Taking care of it? How can that be when you've barely touched my legacy to you?
"It's all about the Goblin with you."
The Goblin made me strong. Helped me take control of Oscorp when it all seemed to be slipping away. You mewling whelp, if not for me, you wouldn't be in charge of this company. You'd be off somewhere in the gutter, drinking yourself to death. You owe it to me to eliminate Spider-Man!
Harry stood up, picking up his ever-present shot glass. "And I'm going to. I hate that bug as much as you do. More, even. He pretended to be my best friend while he quietly stole everything from me. My first girlfriend. . .your love. . .you. . . ." He pulled some whiskey out of the cabinet and poured himself a shot.
So why delay? Use the Goblin formula and make him pay!
"Don't you see? If I do, Peter will immediately know it's me! He'll know what to expect, and how to defeat me. Much as you want me to, I can't become Green Goblin Junior."
Fine. Then what's your plan? Norman asked sarcastically.
Harry grinned. "Luckily, the Octavius project didn't sap all our funds. Despite the stain on our name, Oscorp is still functioning." He downed his shot, bringing the bottle over to his desk. "I diverted the rest of our funds to a special project. We're now working on designing a specialized cloaking/weaponry device. A sort of sentient suit, if you will."
Go on. Norman actually sounded interested.
"Well, we've been working on this special substance that was found on a meteorite from some God-forsaken town in Kansas. According to these reports, it can imitate any costume or piece of clothing, blend chameleon-like into backgrounds, create a sort of high-tensile 'webbing,' cling to sheer surfaces, and gives the wearer heightened strength and reflexes." He poured himself a second shot and gulped it down. "Oh, yeah, it's also immune to most forms of detection. The scientists try to give me some crap about it being alive, but it's a lump of damn goo. You can't expect goo to be alive."
There was a moment of silence. Then Norman replied, in a tone he had rarely used with Harry, You've done well, my son. Despite my expectations, you've done very well. I'm proud of you.
Harry grinned, choosing to ignore the backhanded way the compliment was phrased. "Thanks Dad."
So, you'll wear this suit to destroy Spider-Man?
"Basically. It's full capabilities haven't been tested yet. Luckily, I know enough to hire a patsy to do that for me. Once he's determined the suit's limits, I'll have him quietly killed and take it for myself."
Why not just test it yourself? I tested the Goblin formula on myself.
"Yeah, and look where that got you. Besides, the research scientists have been keeping an annoyingly close eye on me. Better to do it this way." He tossed his glass from one hand to the other. "I'm not going to screw this up, Dad. Trust me."
Just keep on your toes, son. Peter is a wily fellow.
"Yeah, I know."
"Am I interrupting something?"
Harry spun around, startled. Someone was standing on his balcony outside. Someone in solid grey clothing, wearing a matching cape. Someone with a weird-looking metal helmet on his head. Someone with a worn and tired face, and eyes that had seen too much and become bitter for it.
Harry frowned. The man was familiar. He'd seen his face on the news periodically. "Magneto?"
Magneto smiled. "Hello, Mr. Osborn."
"How long have you been there?" Harry asked cautiously. The last thing he needed was for someone to leak that he often had conversations with his dead father. That would really be the final nail in the Osborn coffin. "Hell, how'd you get there?"
Magneto spread his arms theatrically. "The building is supported by steel girders. All I had to do was create a magnetic field of the appropriate strength and size. As for how long I've been here -- long enough to hear about that amazing suit of yours."
"It's mine! You can't have it!" Harry automatically reached for his desk, thinking of the gun inside. "I worked really hard to get my hands on it! It's mine!"
"Tut tut, there's no need to act like a three-year-old," Magneto scolded. "Actually, I have a proposition for you."
Harry paused, regarding him skeptically. "A proposition," he repeated.
Magneto nodded. "You say you need a patsy to test the suit on. I believe I can find someone for you. In return, when you take the suit for yourself, you help me destroy the X-Men."
"Why would I want to destroy the X-Men?"
Magneto leaned forward, a dangerous look in his eyes. "Destroy them, and I'll spare you when I destroy the human race."
"Compelling argument," Harry admitted calmly, trying not to show that Magneto had rattled him. "I just thought -- weren't you and Charles Xavier friends once?"
"Once," Magneto nodded, a weary note in his voice. "But Charles has shown himself too unwilling to change. He still thinks that humanity is worth saving." Magneto shook his head. "Humanity wants mutants dead. They want to isolate them all, then kill them." He pulled back his sleeve to reveal a faded blue number tattooed on his inner forearm. "I lived through that once, Mr. Osborn. I won't go through it again."
He sighed and turned away. "I tried doing things Charles's way. I petitioned a number of governments for the use of some of their land. I wanted to create a homeland for all mutants, where we could live without fear or hatred. Genosha." For a moment, Magneto's eyes were bright, even hopeful. Then they turned dark again, and his voice became bitter. "They all laughed in my face. The bastards."
"So now you want to wipe humanity off the face of the earth?"
Magneto waved a hand carelessly. "Your time has come. Evolution has spoken. We are homo superior. Survival of the fittest, and we are the fit."
Harry couldn't help but wonder if Magneto had learned that from the Nazis. He wisely kept his mouth shut. Instead, he allowed his mind to wander down a different path. "You know. . .I've heard Spider-Man associates with the X-Men," he said slowly.
"He does," Magneto nodded. "The team has gone on record saying that they'll work with him, and he them. They consider each other allies."
Harry's face turned red with anger. "Yeah. Destroy the X-Men." He extended a hand toward Magneto. "Bargain struck."
Magneto shook it, grinning nastily. "I'll start looking for the right man immediately."
Monday, November 1st, 2004
New York, New York
1:24 P.M.
Wow. So this is it.
Peter pulled at his tie, sweating profusely. In just a few minutes, he was going to marry the girl of his dreams, Mary Jane Watson. The woman he had loved all of his life would actually be his. I shouldn't be nervous. I should be happy, he told himself firmly.
And he was happy. Mary Jane loved him. Loved him even though he had pushed her away. Loved him even though he had toyed with her feelings. Loved him even though he was Spider-Man.
But he was nervous too. After all, it had taken them roughly two years to finally get together. Now, after only a few months of official dating, they were getting married. What if Mary Jane changed her mind? What if she decided she needed more space? What if she simply left him there at the altar?
Not that I wouldn't kind of deserve it, Peter admitted to himself. Considering what happened with John while I was trying to get my stupid act together. Be a sort of karmic justice, I suppose.
A cold breeze passed by, making him shiver. He and M.J. were getting married in Central Park -- not exactly on a hilltop like he had dreamed, but close enough in New York. Besides, if they went to any higher ground, they'd probably freeze to death. As it was, they had lucked out that the day of the wedding had managed to get into the mid-50s. Mary Jane was still with her attendants, leaving Peter to stand in the front and worry. Please let this be the right decision. Please let this work out, he begged.
He tried to calm his nerves with a few deep breaths. He seemed to be the only one worrying about this "quickie" wedding. Everyone else seemed to think it was long-overdue. Aunt May, Madeline Watson, Mary Jane's friend Louise -- hell, even her former fiance, John Jameson, thought they belonged together. They all can't be wrong. I'm just being silly, worrying like this.
He looked over at the small crowd of people sitting on folding chairs in front of him. Speaking of John Jameson, he couldn't believe the man had accepted their invitation. Both Mary Jane and Peter had felt extremely guilty about starting their relationship on what would have been his wedding day. After Peter had returned from rescuing some hostages of a bank robber, he and M.J. had called John and apologized until they were blue. John had been shockingly civil about it all, saying he understood and that he'd instinctively known they were rushing into things. (Although he had admitted that he wished M.J. had made her decision before the actual wedding.) He had even complimented Mary Jane on "aborting the mission" before things went completely wrong. The three of them had even become friends after an initial period of awkwardness. Probably helped, Peter thought with a slight grin, by how willing Louise was to pick up where Mary Jane left off.
Aunt May and Madeline Watson were in the front row of course, sniffling and smiling. Phil Watson was there too, a few seats away from the women and looking a tad uncomfortable. Peter was glad to see that M.J.'s father was starting to clean up his act and reconcile with his daughter. M.J.'s theater and modeling pals and his own friends from The Daily Bugle filled out most of the other seats. There were one or two of Aunt May's friends too, M.J.'s aunt Anna --
Then Peter saw a face he knew best from photographs. He grinned and gave his cousin Jennifer a little wave. She waved back, smiling broadly. Her husband and two kids also waved, as well as --
Peter's eyes nearly fell out of his head. Sitting next to the twins was none other then Dr. Emmett Lathrop Brown, eminent quantum physicist -- and another one of Peter's idols. Wow. What -- what is he doing at my wedding? I knew he was friends with Jennifer's husband, but --
Aunt May.
He turned back to look at his aunt. She winked at him. Peter shook his head, chuckling to himself. She must have told them how much I wanted to meet the guy. Yeowza. Thanks Aunt May.
Suddenly, the strains of the wedding march -- as heard from a conveniently placed CD player -- sounded. Peter looked down the aisle as M.J.'s attendants demurely walked up and took their places. His heart began beating like a triphammer. This is it, he though, sweating again. The end of bachelorhood.
And then -- she appeared. Mary Jane Watson. She was in a simple, white, off-the-shoulder dress, he hair loose on her shoulders. In her hands, she held a bouquet of carnations, her favorite flower. Looking at her, all of Peter's worries disappeared. All that mattered was that he was going to spend the rest of his life with the woman he loved.
Mary Jane walked up to him, her eyes shining. Peter just barely fought off the urge to sweep her into his arms and kiss her right then and there. He settled instead for taking her hand and squeezing it. They remained holding hands throughout the ceremony. Finally, the priest said, "By the power vested in me, I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Peter looked straight into M.J.'s eyes. They smiled at each other. Then their lips met in a burst of passion.
And all was right with the world.