The Darkest Hours

Chapter 26

I

don't know how we would have gotten Aleksei home if Wong hadn't driven up in a heavy-duty pickup.

He just pulled up without a word, lowered the tailgate, and wheeled out a hand truck. I wasn't in terribly good shape, but I was able to web up the Rhino—again—and attach him to the hand truck. Getting him into the back of the pickup was another issue with one arm out of commission, but with Wong's help I managed it. Wong isn't big, but he's wiry. Not wiry like me, but stronger than he looks. I was still kind of unsteady on my feet, though, and Wong and MJ moved Felicia themselves.

Wong drove us to Strange's place, and MJ followed in her now-wheezing car. No one seemed to take any notice of us. Granted, it was sunrise on a Sunday, but even so no one seemed to actually make eye contact with the vehicles or any of their occupants. Maybe Strange had done some of that voodoo that he do so well. Or maybe it was just because we were in New York. It would take something a lot weirder than a cocooned bruiser in a Rhino hat, a shirtless Spidey, and a bald Tibetan martial arts expert in a pickup being tailed by a stunning redhead in a crumpled, wheezing limegreen Gremlin to attract attention.

Wong had a pallet ready on the floor of the reception hall, and he put Aleksei on it. He glanced at me, and I pulled the webbing off of him. Felicia rated a cot, and Wong and MJ put her there. Wong examined the large swelling on the side of her head for a few moments, then drew out an old leather valise and opened it, filling the room with the pungent, pleasant fragrance of herbal medicine. He applied a fragrant salve of some kind to her head, another to her neck, and bound a bracelet of some kind of braided plant around her left wrist.

Within minutes, Felicia blinked her eyes open, peered around groggily, and said, "We win?"

"We won," I said.

"Go, us," Felicia mumbled. "You owe me big time, Spider." She then stripped out of my spare costume, staying only more or less covered by the blankets as she did. She sighed in contentment, dumped the clothing on the floor, rolled over, snuggled naked under the blankets, and promptly went to sleep.

Wong looked somewhat startled and uncomfortable at the sight.

I savored the moment.

I was next to get the herbal treatments. I don't know what Wong has growing in his garden, but his stuff makes Tiger Balm look positively anemic. I had so many bruises that he had to open a second jar, and MJ helped him slather it on me. Then he got to Aleksei, applying medicines to his much-abused face and head.

The pain began to fade, and it was a delicious sensation. I sat there hurting less and breathing deeply despite the twinge in my back and my broken wrist, and loved every minute of it.

Wong got to my wrist, frowned, and left.

He returned with the doc, who settled down next to the chair I was slumped in to examine my wrist.

"A clean break," he said. "I can set this for you, if you like."

"Can't you just fix it, O Sorcerer Supreme?" I said in a whimsical voice. "For you, this is just a bippity-boppity-boo-boo, isn't it?"

Strange arched an eyebrow. "Healing magic is quite complex, and its employ must take into account several and various factors which—"

I winced, though he really couldn't see it through the mask, and interrupted him. "Doc. My head."

His eyes wrinkled at the corners. "No," he said.

"Now was that so hard?" I asked him.

"You've no idea," he said.

"Wong," he said to his servant, "I was looking for my Alhambran agates, and I couldn't find them anywhere. Do you have any idea where they are?"

Wong bowed at the waist. "Abject apologies, my master. I seem to have misplaced them."

"Ah," Strange said. He glanced at me. "It's always the little things you wonder about." He bowed his head to me and said, "Congratulations on your victory. It was well done and well won."

"Thank you for your help," I said.

Strange put a hand over his sternum. " 'Help'? I can't imagine what you mean. One ought not confuse my natural concern for your current state of health as partisanship in your recent struggle with the Ancients, which would be against my obligation to maintain a strict balance of mystic forces."

"Oh, right," I said. "Sorry. Thank you for the not-help."

"It was my pleasure not to provide it," he said, his voice warmer. "Let me check on your allies." He circled to Felicia and Aleksei. He lingered longer over the Rhino, murmuring something to Wong, and then returned to me, his expression grave.

"Bad news, Doc?" I asked.

He spread his hands in a noncommittal gesture. "He has taken a terrible beating, and in more than a merely physical sense, but he should recover within the next few days."

"His eyes?" I asked.

"Those too. He seems to be most resilient."

"Yeah," I said. "Annoyingly so."

"You sound as if you do not care for him," Strange said.

"I don't," I said. "Well. I do. I mean, I didn't want him to get killed or anything, but…" I shook my head. "I guess it might have been simpler if he had. He's dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Strange asked.

"You've seen him," I said. "What he's capable of."

"True," Strange said. "And I have seen what you are capable of, as well, I might add. You yourself can be most dangerous, Spider-Man. As can I. And Wong. And, apparently, even Mary Jane."

"You aren't going to rampage anyone into the ground, though," I said. "Neither is Wong or Mary Jane. But the Rhino, I'm not so sure about. He's habitual."

"Ah," Strange said.

"I'm the one who saved his life," I said quietly. "Whatever he does with that life in the future, I'm going to share some of the responsibility for it. If he hurts someone. Or kills someone…" I shook my head. "How would I live with that? I feel… really stupid."

"Do not think the less of yourself for your ignorance. It is a weighty question," Strange said. "Many wise men have struggled to answer it. I am aware of none who have done so."

"Maybe I should do something, then," I said.

"Maybe I have a responsibility to try to limit the harm he could do."

"Or the good," Strange said.

I grimaced. "Do you really think he's going to do anything good, Doc?"

"It seems to me that he aided you and the Black Cat only this morning."

I sighed. "Yeah, he did. It's making it hard to figure out what to do."

Strange nodded. "If you like, I shall summon the authorities."

I thought about it for a minute more. Then I shook my head. "No. We had a deal, and he more than lived up to his end. In fact, without him, we would never have been able to pull it off. He's got twenty-four hours before I make any moves."

Strange got an odd little smile and nodded once. "I am glad to see that you are still a man of your word—as he is. Good never came of treachery. It wounds betrayer and betrayed alike."

The conversation—and his offer—had been a test, then. A lesson. Freaking wizards. Strange really needed to get out among the nonmystical crowd more often. Maybe go bowling. Put back a cold one or two. Watch a movie. But he's the Doc. He's pretty much all about the weird wizardry wise man shtick. And he was probably right.

"We just do what seems right," I said.

He nodded. "We're only human."

"Maybe you could do me a favor," I said. "Besides the wrist, I mean. The Rhino, ah… maybe it would be better if he woke up here, and you could call him a cab."

"Certainly," Strange said. "I am pleased to be able to offer you more conventional help."

I frowned at the unconscious Rhino for a moment. "How are you at fortune-telling, Doc?"

Strange followed the direction of my stare. "The future of beings like the Ancients is easily seen. They have no true sense of self-determination, you see. They are driven by their needs. Ruled by their impulses and fears." He shook his head. "The future of mortal beings, though, is generally imponderable."

"Stop dancing," I said. "Do you think he can straighten out?"

"He can, certainly. Though I sense there would be a very heavy price to be paid—perhaps one which would be too high." Strange shook his head. "The question is will he choose to do so. In the end, his future will depend upon his choices. Just as yours does."

I frowned and nodded. "I suppose I shouldn't expect much."

Strange smiled faintly. "Even should he dare to change his path to run along near your own, I think it would little change his attitude toward you."

"Gee. Why doesn't that shock me," I said.

Strange actually chuckled. "Let's get that wrist straightened out, hmmm?"

Mary Jane leaned into me and murmured, "He is going to be able to do"—she gave him a very mild, elegantly reproachful look—"something? This time around, anyway?"

Strange blinked at her, then at me, and let out a very brief, very quiet sigh.

I savored the moment.

"There," he said, a few uncomfortable minutes later. He had my wrist set, held stiff by layers of wrapped tape. "It's a simple fracture. Leave it for a day or so, and you should be fine, given your own exceptional recuperative capacity."

I sighed. "Thanks, Doc."

He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. "Of course. Is there anything else I can do?"

I blinked at him. "You know," I said, "there is. There are two things, actually."

His eyebrows went up.

"Doc," I said. "I assume your doctoring credentials are still good. You know, like, legal?"

"As far as I know," Strange said, his tone cautious. "Why?"

"And do you know if Wong plays basketball?"

"Excuse me?"

"Simple question," I said. "I mean, it's not brain surgery, is it? Does he shoot hoops?"

"I'm… actually, I'm not sure," Strange mused.

Somewhere in the background, Wong started whistling "Sweet Georgia Brown."

"Peter," Mary Jane said, smiling at Strange. "I'm sure you shouldn't press the good doctor. After all, he's done so much to help you already."

Strange looked helplessly at her and then lifted both hands. "Mercy, lady, I beg you. By all means, Spider-Man, just tell me what I may do."