It might be a bit late to say this, but, spoilers. Like, serious spoilers. Major questions from "The Legacy of a Hero" and this story are going to be answered in this story arc – so if you don't want spoilers, skip this chapter, I mean it. There will be at least one more part to this arc after this chapter. I apologize in advance for the money you're going to spend on tissues for this one. Seriously, I started getting choked up. Just, a few warnings, that's all. Enjoy!

What a Web We Weave

39) Truth Part Two

Heather wasn't sure what was more bizarre. That she and her friends were standing in her parents' completely ordinary apartment, or the creepy-crawly feeling she had at the back of her neck that she shouldn't be here. Maybe that was a residual effect of the magic Doctor Strange had used to lock the memory away? Or maybe it was her own fears and insecurities urging her to get out as fast as she could.

She clenched her fists and stepped farther into the memory – whatever this feeling was, she'd worked too hard and for too long to give up now. She had to know, no matter what had happened that day. It was the only way she'd ever rid herself of the guilt she'd carried since the day she had learned her biological father was dead.

Only a few steps into the kitchen, her foot froze mid step. Kid Flash bumped into her from behind.

"What gives?" He asked, glaring at her.

The others halted behind him, rapidly filling up the tiny kitchen.

"You don't hear that?" Heather breathed, bright eyes darting around the room. Not waiting for an answer, she bolted forward towards her childhood bedroom, heart beating as fast as a hummingbird's. She vaguely registered the others dogging her steps as she rounded the corner and stopped short in the doorway of her room. All at once, the air was gone from her lungs and her knees threatened the buckle beneath her.

There he was. Her father, Ben Reilly. He was sitting on the bed, a tiny red haired toddler curled up in his lap. He smiled at the little girl and sang very softly to her, making her smile sleepily up at him.

Heather was surprised she'd been able to hear the singing from the kitchen, his voice was so quiet. Then she realized she hadn't heard him from the kitchen, she'd heard him through the memory. Though she was closer to him now, the volume of the song hadn't changed, and while she could recognize the melody and his voice very clearly, the words themselves were lost to her. She was remembering the song as her younger counterpart had heard and memorized it.

Looking around the rest of the room now, she realized that most of the apartment appeared hazy and out of focus, while her father and herself were in sharp contrast.

"Why can't I understand what he's saying?" It took a moment to register she had asked the question, and not someone else. She felt so off kilter, she wasn't sure which way was up anymore.

"This memory is very old – possibly one of your first concrete ones," M'gaan said, studying the room around them the same way Heather had. "Memories fade with time. Even memories that have been locked away from the consciousness for decades aren't spared the effects of time. Children's memories in particular are very seldom distinct the way adults' are."

"Is that him?" Artemis asked, nodding her chin at the memory of Ben as he ran his fingers through the younger Heather's hair.

"It's him," Heather breathed, her chest painfully tight.

"How can you be sure?" Wally rubbed the back of his neck. "Clones look alike, in case you didn't know. Are you sure that isn't, uh, Peter?" Spiderman's alternate identity felt foreign on his tongue.

Conner rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but even identical twins have differences between them."

Heather tried to take in a full breath of air to ease the ache in her chest, but it only seemed to feel worse. "Conner's right. I don't know how Peter managed to fool everyone for so long. He and Ben might as well be night and day from each other. I can't explain it in words but…" She stepped closer to the bed, reaching out a tentative hand to Ben's cheek. Her hand passed through him like she was made of nothing but mist. Or maybe Ben was the ghost. She shook off the thought. It didn't matter. "This is my real dad. I know it better than my own name."

Out of nowhere, Ben, Heather and Memory-Heather whipped towards the wall that was opposite the kitchen and living room.

"What's wro-" Robin started to ask.

KA-BOOM!

An explosion shook the apartment, knocking the Team to the floor. On the bed, Ben clutched his daughter to his chest protectively as the toddler wailed in surprise and fright.

Artemis swore sharply, trying to untangle her limbs from Zatanna's. "What was that?!"

"I don't –" Kaldur began to answer before another explosion shook the building, the sound of shattering glass and tumbling bricks drowning out all other sounds.

Before the Team had a chance to recover or speak, Ben was on his feet and racing his daughter into the closet. He set the toddler on the floor gently, though she continued to shake and silent tears poured down her cheeks. He cradled her face in his hands, locking his eyes with hers as he spoke to her in an urgent, hushed tone.

The Team glanced at each other, uncertain. None of them could hear his words, except for Heather who stared at the projections of her past with rapt attention, her own eyes watery and frightened.

In another flash, Ben ran from the room, passing through all of them like the mirages they were in the dreamscape. Kaldur, Conner, M'gaan, Artemis, Zatanna, and Wally all dashed after him to find the cause of the blast. Robin made to trail them, but stopped in the hallway when he realized Heather hadn't moved. He turned back around the corner and found his friend kneeling on the floor in front of her younger self, a helpless hand outstretched towards the toddler who huddled on the floor with her tiny arms wrapped around her legs. Tears continued down Memory-Heather's chubby cheeks, lower lip quivering though she remained mute.

The real Heather was crying too. "He –he told me to hide. He told me to be quiet and not come out no matter what. He promised he'd come back for me. Dick…" her voice was hoarse. "He promised me, Dick."

Dick had never felt more powerless in his life. What could he say? What was there to say? There was nothing he could offer her. His mouth opened and closed twice, but words failed to materialize.

"Guys! You might want to get in here!" Conner's shout was tense, making Dick's stomach flip. What now?

"Heather," Robin urged softly, gripping her arm and gently pulling her up. Memory-Heather didn't move or acknowledge their presence, just continued to quiver in fear. The real Heather let Robin lead her along numbly, her body on autopilot as her mind locked onto the image of her younger self huddled in that closet, hoping and praying for a miracle that would never come.

Out in the living room, there was a gaping hole where the windows used to be, and Ben was staring down Doctor Octopus, the Sandman, and Electro. The Team had gathered around the mental projections, helpless to whatever happened next. Heather pulled her arm from Dick's grasp and moved towards her father, but her hand went through his bicep like mist. She swallowed. This was a memory, she reminded herself. There was nothing she could do to help. This all happened a long time ago.

"Ah, Peter Parker, just the man we wanted to see," Sandman said, grinning as his form shifted from an ordinary looking human into granulated sand.

"What do you want?" Ben demanded, his voice level but there was an undercurrent of fury and a hint of panic.

"We were hoping you could tell us where to find the elusive Spider-Man," Doc Ock grinned. One of his long mechanical arms shot out and wrapped around Ben's torso in a blink, squeezing tight.

Ben gasped painfully, struggling to free himself from the iron grip. "I don't know where he is! He and I haven't spoken in years."

"But if that were true," Electro speculated, casually playing with a ball of electricity in his palm. "You wouldn't still be taking his pictures for the paper, now would you?" He approached Ben with calm measured steps and held the ball of electricity towards Ben's face. "Tell us where to find him, and you might live to see the next sunrise," he said in a low dark tone.

"I'm telling you, I don't know," Ben grunted, pulling his head as far back as he could from the electric villain.

"We could always use him in other ways," Sandman suggested. "Bait, perhaps? A fly on the wall reporter, to catch a pain in the neck spider?"

"An excellent suggestion, Sandman," Doctor Octopus agreed, smiling unpleasantly. "Come along Mr. Parker, we have business to attend to."

Ben's face was pure panic, kicking and struggling wildly as the trio headed towards the door they'd created for themselves in the wall. "No! You can't!"

"Daddy!"

Everyone froze. Slowly, all the people in the room both real and memory alike turned towards the doorway. Memory-Heather looked terrified, but she ran towards her father with the kind of reckless abandonment most of the Team thought Heather had only developed in her late teens.

"Leave my Daddy alone!" Little Heather said, grabbing onto Ben's ankle from where he hung suspended above the floor.

"Baby, what are you doing?" Ben's voice was soothing but there was an ever growing note of panic in his tone. "Remember what daddy said?"

Little Heather shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "No, Daddy! I won't let them take you away!"

"Well isn't this precious?" Electro said slowly, narrowing his eyes behind his protective glasses.

Ben's eyes were twin blue flames of fury. "Touch one hair on her head, and I'll rip you all to pieces."

"You know, now that I think about it, doesn't Spider-Man have a bit of a soft spot for children? Especially one whom finds themselves in danger?" Doctor Octopus mused.

"No!" Heather yelled in unison with Ben.

Sandman ignored both of them, snatching up Memory-Heather in a fishing net made of sand, then forming a small cage around her. "Daddy! Help!" The toddler cried, pulling against the rock hard sand bars without success.

Conner ran towards the girl, but his hands slipped through the image like smoke. "Ugh! I hate this! We can't do anything!"

"It's already been done," Heather whispered, staring hopelessly at the memory. "This is how it has to be. We can't stop what's happened more than ten years in the past."

Doctor Octopus threw Ben against the wall, pinning him there. "You have twelve hours. If Spider-Man does not appear at pier 22 by the deadline, your daughter will be dead. I suggest you get to work on finding him."

Ben groaned painfully, "What do you want with him, anyway? What could be so important that you would hurt a defenseless child?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Electro asked, grinning. "We want him dead."

"Twelve hours, Mr. Parker. Tick tock," Doctor Octopus grinned. He cold cocked Ben over the temple with a metal claw and then let him sink to the floor.

"Daddy!" Memory-Heather screamed as she was taken away by half of the Sinister Six.

The real Heather knelt next to her unconscious father. "It's all my fault," she whispered. She rubbed hard at her eyes, yet the tears kept coming. "If I hadn't come out of the closet…" She reached out, hovering her fingertips just above her father's cheek.

"Then they would've taken your dad, instead of you," Robin gripped her shoulders tightly. "It was a no-win situation, Heather. There was no right choice or wrong choice. You can't blame yourself for this."

"Guys, the story isn't over," Wally reminded the group. "We don't know what happened after they took you away."

"Heather, concentrate on the memory," M'gaan suggested gently. "Your mind should guide you in the right direction."

Heather nodded reluctantly. Even though she knew this was just a memory, part of her wanted to stay here with her Dad until he woke up. But that was impossible, she didn't have any memories of her father waking up and finding her gone. The world around them had frozen in place, blurring and then sharpening into view randomly, like a VHS tape after you hit pause. Her mind was waiting for her to guide them, and so were her friends. She took a deep cleansing breath and wiped her face quickly.

"Okay. Let's go," She murmured shakily. She glanced at Kal, but he wasn't looking at her, or any of the others. She frowned. What was he thinking about? She shook it off – she'd worry about it later. She closed her eyes and focused on the next linear point of her memory.