Spider-Man: Punishment.

[Bug-Eyed Earl]

The last thing he saw before blackness took him, as the roar of the pistol still resonated through his ears, was the skull.


Howard Saint knew that living a double life was an art. They must be kept separate- which is why none of his clients ever came to his mansion, and if he could help it, he didn't even discuss his "other" business in his home office.

But tragedy in one freed him up to deal with work for the other- the death of his son Bobby. both he and his wife Livia were devastated- but when it happened, he took but a moment to brush that aside to go to work, to find who was responsible for Bobby's death, and make them pay. And the time he took from work, ostensibly to grieve, was spent voraciously tracking down the one who had set up the operation that had claimed Bobby's life.

And it came- far easier than they thought. Because the Toro brothers, his usually odious business partners, came through with a lead- one of the agents in charge of the operation, James Weeks. The man frequented the Toros' illicit casinos- and a friend of the Toros in the department tipped them off to the fact that drugs and evidence had disappeared from the evidence locker around the same time Weeks had paied off some very steep gambling debts.

But the man kept coming back. And when cornered, when the slightest squeezw was put on him, he'd revealed everything, terrified of the truth coming out.

Otto Krieg, an envoy for Yuri Astrov, renowned (if that word can apply to his field) arms dealer, had set up the bust to bring down Astrov. But his name wasn't Otto Krieg- it was Frank Castle, who had gone from a sterling career withe the Army and eventually Delta Force into the FBI.

Saint received word that Castle was attending a family reunions and then transferring to London for a cushy desk job. While he was previously content to let Castle be the sole targer- it was Livia who upped the ante, asking Quentin Glass, his right hand man, to kill the entire family. Thinking of his son rotting in the ground, Saint relented.

Now he awaited news- they had been gone long enough- it should be finished, underway, or about to start.

And speaking of the devil- his phone rang, and Quentin Glass' cell phone number popped up on his Caller ID.

"What do you have for me?'

But- only moans.

"Quentin?"

"Howard- I'm sorry..." came Glass' voice- drowned in a mix of physical, mental, and emotional pain.

"What happened?"

"There was this kid there..." strained Glass, the words coming as easily as a dog through a mousehole."John's dead. We had to abort. We tried to get away...I've never ridden a motorcycle before. I'm in a ditch- my legs are broken..."

Saint slowly rose to his feet, as understanding washed over him- the delay came only because his mind couldn't process the fact that 9 heavily armed men had ben unable to kill their target(s)- 30 unarmed civliians converged in a single open area.

He felt his stomach start to churn, like it was melting and about to erupt out of him. Both of his sons dead-

"Quentin, are you by yourself- you have to get out of there,!"

"Too late, Howard," he said "I hear the sirens. There- they'll know it was you. John being there will give it all away- and some of the dead men- people know them

"Howard, I'm so sorry," he said. "I'll eat the barrel of my gun if you give the word."

"What?!" Everything was convergin on him so fast- he barely had time to think.

"Howard- the sirens are coming," said Glass.

"No...don't!" Like you said- they'll be after me no matter what. I'll find you, and I'll get you out of this."

"You got it," said Glass, his voice going faint, as if he was willing himself to stay conscious, and Howard's assent was all he needed to let go.

There was this kid...

"Wait. Quentin! What kid?"

But the sirens coming from the phone were loud enough that he probably couldn't hear Quentin in his weakened state if he tried to answer.

Saint hung up, and realized he'd have to get out of town. He could make the calls, and pull a few million out of his accounts before the cops came for him- it would be hours at least before a warrant was issued, but if John was immediately identified, they could be by sooner for questioning. His men knew what owuld happen to their families if they talked. There was the matter of Weeks, as well... but one thing at a time

As far as the police knew, it would be an action undertaken by Quentin alone- his own personal respone to Bobby's death. But Saint knew htye wouldn't believe that enough to abandon their investigation. Quentin would protect him, but it would only buy him time.

He raced up to his room, and found Livia curled up on their bed, asleep.

"Liv?" he whispered, gently shaking her. She stirred, and slowly turned over, looking stunning considering her dishevelled state.

"Is it done?" she asked eagerly, as she realized what he had to be waking her for.

"Something's happened," sighed Saint.

He knew now that Quentin was all he had left besides Livia. Anybody else could rot in prison, or he'd bail them out so he could kill them himself. But if what happened was beyond Quentin's ability to handle...

But what had happened in Puerto Rico?



Four hours had passed since it ended, and Frank Castle had not left his father's bedside since then. His mother had been given a sedative after getting out of the OR- shed taken a nasty spill when the whole thing had started, and had to get 7 stitches on her forehead. and was asleep on a couch outside the room.

He wondered how it would have happened if his mother had missed the call. Betty Castle had grown apart from her little sister Madelline in the past few years, and the pain had always been evident to Frank and his father. Sr. had gotten a call about 6 months ago- it was Madelline's daughter, Mary Jane. The talk they had had gone a long way to clear things up- it was like Betty thought- the man Madelline had married was the main reason the sisters had drifted apart. MAdelline was ill, so the slow reconcilliation would not be helped along by her attending the reunion.

So he had invited her daughter Mary Jane to the reunion- and she had askeda simple question that undoubtedly changed everything- "Can I bring my boyfriend?"



Mary Jane and her boyfriend Peter seemed like good kids when Frank met them. They had shown up early at the compound in Puerto Rico- the cheapest flight they could book was early in the morning- both had turned down Sr's offer to cover their tickets themself. When their cab pulled up at 8:00 AM, it was only Frank, his wife, his son, and his parents.

MAry Jane had grown into a beautfiul young woman, and she was with a good looking yoiung man of average height.

Peter, as they learned, was a Science major, studying a few fields at once. They got along great form the start.

What struck Frank as odd about Peter was when he took off his shirt to go swimming with them- his body rippled with muscle like an Olympian gymnast, but he seemed to be more of a bookworm type.

Ease off, Frankie. Not all prodigies are 98 pound weakling. Stop thinking like you're surrounded by a room ful of people who would cap you in an instant if they had the slightest reason.

True enough. But something told him that he had a lot to learn about Peter Parker.

"I remember the first time I brought Maria home to meet my folks. Mom pulledout a picture of me when I was seven. I was being baby-sat by this girl next door, and she made me up like a gypsy- makeup and everything."

"And you were so pretty," laughed Betty Castle. Everyone laughed.

"So consider this, MJ," said Frank, grinning: "It's almost a rite of passage for someone in our family to have another family member recount an embarassing story about them, or pull out a really stupid picture, when they bring home someone they're serious with."

"Oh, God," groaned MAry Jane. "The toilet, right?"

"Yup," said Frank. "When MJ was 2, she had the little kid's toilet, but she always wanted to use the big girl's potty. I was visiting my folks here in Virginia, and Aunt Maddie was there with the little flame-head here and guess who got stuck after falling into the big girl's toilet? Crying her eyes out as she was trying to get out, wailing that she just wanted to use the big girls' potty."

The entire group burst into laughter, except for Mary Jane, who held her face in her hands, but after a second, she too, joined it.

Later, the group was going in for a swim in the Caribbean, and Peter was playfully wrestling with Will, before passing him off to his grandfather. Frank was watchin all of this, bemused

"He's a great kid, Mr. Castle," said Peter.

"Call me Frank- else what'll you call my dad? You can call him Sarge if you call me Mr. Castle, but if you do that he might make you drop and do 100 pushups."

"OK. So, your father was a military man?"

"Yeah. Did a few tours in'Nam, but he never really talked about much to me, though," said Frank. Though that wasn't exactly true.

"How 'bout you?"

"I was with Delta Force- and after that I joined the Bureau. And I just finished my last undercover job.

"I bet Will's proud."

"Actually- Will doesn't know what I do for a living."

Ever since 9/11, no one had ever thought of soldiers as anything other than heroes. And boys needed heroes. Peter, as smart as he was, was a little confused that Frank wouldn't tell his son.

"Why won't you tell him?"

"I'm proud of it all, but if Will found out, the first thing he'd ask me is if I'd ever killed anybody, and I don't want to have to lie to him."

"I see what you mean," said PEter, his eyes averting- clearly, he felt a little uncomfortable at this. Frank tried to lighten things up.

"How long have you known Mary Jane? Come on, kid, I haven't seen her since she was 12- she's about my only cousin who I've lost touch with."

"Since we were 5," Peter said, and smiled. "You know, if I believed in fate. I would say it was meant to be from that moment. I see how you are with your wife- I hope we can have that."

"Too soon to be thinking about little actresses and scientists pitter-pattering around?" asked Frank slyly.

"Oh, God-" said Peter. "Way too early."

Frank smiled, and then thought abot how rare it was for him to get into a conversation like that with someone he just met, but Frank had one amusing thought about this:

How corny is it for an ex-Delta Force commando, ex-bureau, who made his lviing- no who stayed alive- by not trusting naybody to open up to a kid he just met because he...radiates goodness?"

Frank chuckled to himself, and went back into the water to join Will- see if he could beat his old diving record.


Sr's eyes fluttered open- and immediately found his son.

"Frankie?" he whispered. He hadn;t called his son Frankie since he was eleven.

"Dad..." he got up to hug him, but held him gingerly-so as not to hurt his bandaged arm.

"What happened after..." asked Sr. And the next question came after Sr. remembered everything that had happened, and he swallowed, trying to get the rapidly forming lump out of his throat.

"Who did we lose?"

"Donal. Nancy..." He listed the seven names of the seven family members who had died when the gunfire erupted- two of them had been children.

"Dad, there's one more.,"

He saved her for last because without her, he knew thing woud have been a lot worse.

"Mary Jane. And Peter's in intensive care- he got shot in the head- the doctors give him 50/50. But there may be brain damage if he pulls through.."

Sr. sighed, and closed his eyes for a moment

"I know who did this," said Frank. "Five of them are dead. We rounded up the rest of them, and they probably have the guy in charge already. they're not getting away with this. Everybody who was there is in protective custody- we've weathered this, and we're going to make it. They're not gonna get another chance- all thanks to Peter."

"Peter Parker from New York," said Sr softly. "Jumping 10 feet into the air- shooting some sticky gunk from his wrists. Inhumanly strong. Still fighting after a bullet in the head. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I know I did," came a voice form behind them.

The man was in his early 50s, tall, burly, with a faint patchwork of scars on his face. One of these showed the ghost of the wound that claimed his eye, now covered with a patch.

"Nick Fury?" asked Sr.

"Been a long time, Frankie," said Fury.



Two rooms down, Peter Parker lay in a deep coma, his body connected with so many wires and tubes that he seemed more to be a man growing out of the machines themselves- and his head was almsot entirely bandaged, further obscuring his humanity.

But he dreamed still, as all humans do.

...pushing Mary Jane into the compound, trying to find her a hiding place- the men had come between them and the various members of castle's family- he had become their biggest target- after seeing him send Lincoln airborne with a single punch, and leaping several feet in the air with inhuman speed- shooting strange balls from his wrists...[

...the young man with the slicked back hair bursting in at the other end of the room, as Peter tried to push Mary Jane to the side, but he came in firing...Mary Jane dances spastically, and he feels the blood spattering him. Peter doesn't lose his head yet- he grabs a chair and hurls it at the man-- it hits him with incredible force, and Peter charges him. The man tries to shoot him again, and the world explodes with stars, as he feels his legs weaken, but he charges the man, whose guns clicks on empty, his eys widening in shock. Even as blood fills his eyes, flooding down his face, he grabs the man's temples...

...his strength is fading fast- all he can think to do is squeeze. He hears a series of gruesome pops and cracks, before blackness overtakes him...

...but he sees a fearsome skull on the floor next to him as he collapses on the man. It's a shirt- and the last thing he sees before it all goes out.

And Peter Parker's blue eyes snap open, his face contorting in rage.







First chapter. I thought I should mention that both of the embarassing stories told on the beach are true- my sister did the gypsy thing to me when I was real little, and the other one happened to my neice.

There's a very simple idea to this- role-reversal. Movie Punisher and movie Spidey are easier to link together like this.

Frank doesn't have the same relaitvely rosy outlook that Peter does- it will become obvious how important it was for Frank to know him personally before all of this.

And I wil detail the attack later, so we can see exactly what happened.

[frigidmagi]

I'm liking this...

Write more.

[fgalkin]

Nice.

Have a very nice day.
-fgalkin

[Mark S]

Very nice. It grabbed my interest.

[Ender]

Intriguing

[LadyTevar]

Very intriguing. Caught my interest immediately. Please, post more

[Dargos]

Looks great so far..keep it up!!