Crybibi dislikes water

Chapter 8 - No More

You’re fucked.

There’s literally no other way to describe your situation.

If you weren’t absolutely terrified about abandoning your morals-fuck them kids, you’d already be setting up your beacon with a one way ticket home. 

Once you’re home, the first thing you’ll do is take a bath, and visit Spider HQ to catch up on the situation with the Spot, and then visit Aunt May, Uncle Ben, and Peter’s graves. No more fights, no more swinging, no more hero business. You’ll take the week off, ask Miguel to cover for you just so you can rest. Just to put all this behind you. Like a bad dream.

Just like a bad dream, you started to feel the early signs of shutting down. Your body wants recovery, but staying here, there will never be recovery. You just don’t feel safe enough to shut down completely. And this case is eviscerating your health.

But you refuse to lie down. You can’t. Not here, not in Gotham, not in this universe. Just make it home, then you can rest. 

All you have to do now, is find Jacob, and get him arrested. Then Batman and the others will find the missing teens. You already did everything you could as an intruder, an outsider. You can’t risk much. You’re already stretched too thin. 

God you might just pick up drinking and become an alcoholic. Oh you don’t have a-legal- ID so there goes that coping mechanism. Maybe they can see your lifeless eyes and just give you some as pity. You’ll welcome that.

After managing to lose the Boy Wonder, you made sure to avoid surveillance cameras as best as you could. You don’t know who exactly is watching (if they’re watching at all), and you definitely don’t want to find out. 

Stalking the alleys you watch it start to get darker out. Spider sense became more of a dull noise, you knew you were in the clear. You take a shaky breath and regain your bearings. Fear is creeping up your spine when you recall just how many (dangerous) people you have encountered today.

You first (almost) bumped into- not one- but TWO of the most dangerous people that exist (Damian Wayne, and Jonathan Kent), then you USED Red (Jason mother-fucking Todd) Hood as a shield- Oh!- Let’s not forget about Duke Thomas! Then there was glimpses of- possibly- Cassandra Cain and Stephanie Brown together, and last but not fucking least the one and only Richard ‘Dick’ (Nightwing) Grayson. 

You swear that if you come into contact with Batman, you’re buying a ticket to Metropolis or Star City. You’ll be gone. 

This day has gone on long enough. You’re tired, hungry, and your sanity is almost nonexistent. You hope, plead, beg, to anyone who will hear your prayers, that this day won’t or can’t get any worse.

Knock on wood.

After taking a quick break, you regain your breath. Let’s think things through once more.

You know Jacob is leaving tonight. But he’ll only leave now when he has you. If you aren’t found tonight, he’ll leave people to fetch you. If he leaves, then sure they can trace him back to Spain. But he’ll most likely be with the man who backs him up, his boss. He won’t be found easily, it could take years, maybe decades. 

Those children would have to wait. Wait a long time, that is, if they survive.

If Jacob disappears and you’re not there, it will have been all for naught. You'd rather risk being with Jacob and knowing his location than leaving it up to chance, hopes, and prayers that Batman and/or the Justice League would catch them before they go off grid. 

You don’t have decades worth of time either. You don’t think you’d survive that long in this world, in this universe. 

You’ll be stranded, your watch will die, and you can’t risk your existence in Gotham. You’ll be on the run. Who would you trust? Can you trust anyone? Certainly not Batman. Superman? Yea, but he would most likely just take you straight to Batman. 

Maybe the Flash? He’s smart. Oh! Maybe the Green Lantern? You know they handle space stuff. Wonder Woman is a no go, you’re not dealing with Gods and magic, you’re dealing with science. 

The Spot was accidentally made with science, everything about you is science. You just need better equipment and tools. That’s all. Sure you can build just fine where you’re at. But it takes too long and you’re constantly paranoid. 

But regardless. You’ll make it home. That is something you’re sure of. 

Time to get back into business.

Reaching into your pockets, your blood runs cold.

Oh no… There’s nothing there… your envelope is gone. And the urge to vomit once again resurfaces.

The money inside the envelope didn’t exactly bother you (kinda, it is your money), it was your newly created passport. A form of Identification. A fake one. One that ties you along with the very criminal they want to apprehend. 

Well, isn’t this just swell.

Sweatpants fucking suck balls. Watching as the streetlights start to turn on, you decide to keep on moving. The evening breeze makes you feel all types of exposed. Glancing at the (useless) watch, thumb rubbing across the cold material, you lament what could have been.

“Peter… nothing is- going well… I miss you- all of you.” Eyes watching Gothamites slowly dwindle in numbers. “I don’t know what to do. I just want to see you.” Wish you were here, those words left to yourself. Very personal, and very out of place here.

Grabbing the only object that didn’t fall when you were manhandled by a certain police officer, you watch the burner phone vibrate an incoming call. You watch the phone vibrate on and on until it stops. 

Only one person knows this number. Only one. And you don’t want to talk to him. Not now. Not when you don’t have a face you can scrutinize- to dissect every expression he makes. You refuse to give him the upper hand willingly.

Grip tightens, almost cracking the dang thing before putting it away. You don’t have time for this. Watching both sides and relying on your tingle, you walk out. No money and no mask, so your face is basically nude for the world to see.

Just great.

Head low, just like other Gothamites, your next destination is to get out of dodge. Hands inside pockets, most likely looking sketchy as fuck, you wonder around, looking both ways and doing your best to keep out of sight, keeping mostly to backroads unless absolutely necessary.

You’re pretty sure you've made it out of the Narrows a few streets back. Recalling exactly where you currently are with visual landmarks as your only source of guidance. 

Speaking of guidance, there at a distance you can see Robinson Park. So you haven’t completely left the Narrows. Robinson Park is the place you had been here before, and it has done quite a lot relaxing you. 

Nature has always done well when you’re overwhelmed. It seems your body decided you needed some time for yourself before you'd deliberately throwing yourself into a lion's den. Just a little bit of peace. Like Peter used to give you.

He was-IS special. He had some sort of sixth sense when it came to you and your moods. He knew exactly when you were mad, sad, stressed, happy and especially scared. After the deaths of Aunt May and Uncle Ben, you had used the mask as a shield, and when that mask was off and you were yourself, you kept everything inside. Bottled up, packed away, and hidden. You couldn’t afford to have cracks in your walls, you didn’t have anything then. You never pretended to either. 

You fought, and fought, and fought until your body ached, until you bleed, until you were seeing black. You would fight until your body would shut down, until your health would decline, until the time would come where you could finally close your eyes- permanently.

But Peter saved you.

When you saved him, it was like any other civilian you’d save. You’d (most likely) never see them again. But this guy was persistent. He’d find a way to follow you, to see you in action, and sometimes, he would end up getting into trouble and you’d have to save him again.

And smart Peter Parker managed to unmask you. And he became a constant in your life. A presence you eventually could not live without. And he knew that. He knew that- and yet…he… he left you. No, he didn’t leave you.

Peter- yes Peter just knew you so very well. He was good at so many things, and he was especially good at conveying them, but he struggled with valuing himself. For someone so very smart, and talented, he could not bring himself to see himself the same way he sees you. 

Peter Parker… the man who became air to you, left you with nothing but hollowness. His soft and gentle hands became a noose around your neck, his warm and kind eyes became an abyss swallowing you whole, and his- his…existence- it soothed you. Made it feel like life is worth living, made you look forward to opening your eyes the next day, that life was worth protecting since he was there, because then, you could stand beside him. 

No more throwing your life away, no more fighting until someone or something out there would end you. No more. 

Peter Parker is no more. 

No more warmth, no more kindness, no more devotion, no more safety, no more rest, no more, no more, no more. There is no more of anything anymore. Nothing. You’re left with nothing. Hollow once more. Nothing that can stop you from relapsing to your old habits. 

No more.

Peter Parker is softness and purity, like nature can be. You both would often go to the park to watch the stars, and you would listen to his cute rambles. Hands intertwined, his thumb rubbing your knuckles, and eyes filled with warmth and brilliance. 

Life was worth living then. Worth waking up in the morning, worth holding back, worth the less broken bones, bruises and pain. Worth coming back to a warm embrace, gentle hands that would mend the hurt, warm eyes that would melt your coldness, warm laughs that would be contagious, warmth everything. A warm place to call home. A place to come back too. Peter Parker was the warmth you didn’t realize you had been desperately clinging to.

Peter Parker was everything. 

No more.

No more Peter Parker who would hold you. So when things often get too much, you’d return to nature for that embrace, for that illusion. It’s not warm, but it’s the second closest thing to mimicking Peter Parker’s warmth. No more.

Feet crunch on the fallen leaves, the cold grass nips at your ankles, sending shivers up your spine. The breeze dancing around you, reminding you just how exposed you feel your hand clutches the watch around your wrist. Metal is just as cold as your surroundings.

You sit down by a bench, take a deep breath and look up at the sky. Clouds consume the sky, despite it being evening, and the sun is setting, you can’t spot a single star. Couldn’t help but chuckle in disappointment. “This fucking sucks.” 

From the corner of your eye you can imagine Peter sitting besides you looking up and also looking disappointed, sticking his tongue out towards the clouds. You can see it so clearly that you’re debating if you already have lost your sanity and are already losing your mind.

In a moment of vulnerability you discretely move your hand to place it on top of Peter’s only to watch him disappear like smoke clearing. Ah, you have gone insane.

This place sucks. This whole universe sucks. Your whole situation sucks. But this is the situation you are currently living in. 

Staring at the clouds for minutes, the people around you- as scarce as they were before- dwindle to single digits and eventually disperse. You can feel yourself breathe a bit better now.

The burner phone had rung twice since you decided to ignore Jacob's first call. It seems he has finally gotten the memo, you just don't want to talk. The stress that has consumed you whole needs an outlet.

When you see Jacob, you'll swing. Yea, that sounds like a good idea. He’s the reason you haven’t left yet. The reason you’re being hunted by the birds like some sort of prey. You’ll give him a good whammy and then you’ll leave. It wouldn’t be enough to decompress but it would be satisfying to wipe that smug look on his fucking face.

After that your exit plan is simple.

Use your beacon, connect to HQ, report to Miguel and then get sent back home where you’ll sleep off this whole situation. “I’m burning those fucking comics once I get home.” You had enough of the DCU, and you want nothing to do with Batman or anyone for that matter. You’ll apologize at Peter’s grave since he’s such a dork and comic book nerd. But you just had enough.

Seated on the bench for an additional time, you stretched your legs and got up. The cold keeps you awake and alert. It’s time to end this once and for all. Tonight. Eyes closed, you imagine what the stars in Gotham look like. The image is replaced by the stars Peter and you would see back in your universe.

It’s a much better view in your opinion.

A shaky smile makes its way to your face. It’s wobbly, shaky but it’s still a smile. A real smile, no matter how scared you are. It’s probably the first time you’d smiled since you got here. A real smile since the passing of Peter. 

It would always hurt when thinking about him. It would always kill a piece of what is left of you.

Opening your eyes, the clouds still blocked out all the stars. Yea, home is way better. Getting up, you made your way towards the park's exit, using your spider sense as a look out for any potential bats or birds. A hum.

That’s what your spidey sense tells you. You’re good to go. The wind nipping at your exposed skin, the sun just about to disappear, leaving an orangy hue that will soon be consumed by a dark blue hue.

You can use the night as a cover to find Jacob. To uncover where exactly he planned on taking you. Once you find that, you’ll forward that information to Jim Gordon and call it off. They can handle the rest. The Justice League can handle anything else if it gets to that. You’d have done your part and in good conscience you can go home. 

The Justice League (from what you remember) are competent. Those are the big leagues, the best of the best. Yes. They can handle the rest. You’d be giving them the last piece of the puzzle and all they would have to do is finish it. 

“Almost home, Peter. Just a few more hours, and I’ll be home.”

Crossing the streets, you pass by a thrift store you debated entering. Placing a hand in your pocket you realized that you can’t even if you wanted to buy a sweater. You no longer have access to the money. Forget the ID you mostly cared about the money since it’s what was sustaining you. 

Speaking of money, you feel just how empty your stomach is (you’re surprised how quiet it's been, or have you just tuned it out?). All the energy you had spent today and you hadn’t had food since this morning. If you can call granola bars a sustainable breakfast. You feel like you’re running on fumes and your gas tank is on its last bar.

Great, you’re in an even bigger time crunch. Good thing you decided to sneak around. The bad thing is that the money you were going to use to sneak around is gone. Just your luck.

Rubbing your bare shoulders- not from the cold, just something to keep you grounded- watching patrolling police cars drive past you since crime never sleeps in Gotham. Doing your best to stay as hidden as possible, using the ever growing shadows as cover, back alleys as a guide, and bars to collect information.

From what you infer, Jacob was mostly on his own for his bar, with some sort of system to get clientele for his fighting ring. From what you observed, especially as spider-woman, most of the recruitment (more like heavy manipulation) were done by those in a high hierarchy. 

You had targeted those people first when you kept sending anonymous tips. Yet the names, the names of so many people… there’s no way those who you had snitched on were the only ones bringing in others. 

 How Jacob kept getting an abundance of people in what you assume was a relatively short amount of time has truly baffled you. You highly doubt they had been operating for much since you know that Batman would have caught wind of kidnappings and/or missing teens/young adults sooner rather than later.

If not, then you’d have heavily overestimated Batman. 

Keeping an ear out an ear out for any loose lips, eyes vigilant for any suspicious movement and posture appearing relaxed but ready for action should you need to move, you were ready for anything.

Your spider sense spiked- not rapidly, but it was gradually increasing. Letting the alley’s shadow consume your frame, you watched a very familiar motorcycle drive zoom across the streets past you. 

You did not like that. You’re sure you managed to stay out of surveillance as much as possible, of course there are stores and/or buildings with working cameras, but there is no shot they could pinpoint your exact location with just that! 

So why was Red Hood so close?!

You peeked in the direction he went when your spider sense called down. That direction… either he’s looking for you, or he’s going to a very specific location. And based on the speed, you assume it is the latter rather than the former. 

If they narrowed down your possible location, Red Hood would probably use the alleys like how you accidentally ran into him earlier in the day. You hope whoever is on camera duty spills a drink on the keyboard.

Deciding to head in the direction Jason was heading, left the alley, keeping close to the sides of the building as much as possible to negate the fact that you’re out in the open. 

A couple of blocks from the bar, a familiar sense pulls you. You feel it before you see it, the proper way your spider sense always behaves. You turned your attention to a girl, walking in your direction, headphones in both ears, distracted by her phone. That wasn’t what your spider sense was warning you about. It was about the three men that were following behind her, blending with the night, and with obvious ill intentions. 

It seems the ginger hasn’t noticed she’s being followed, and she’s close to turning the corner. 

You sprint, startling the girl as one of the men grab her. She screams, dropping her phone, cracked when landing on the concrete as you land a punch at the assailant. The man’s grip loosened as he fell and you pulled the ginger behind you, pushing her out of the way. “Get lost!” you hissed at her. 

She didn’t move, voice stuck, body frozen and frame trembling. Without looking behind you reached behind to grab her top and push her further back, out into the open. Letting her go, you rush back in the alley, kicking the guy down again, and weaving when another tries to swing. The last guy pulls out a switch blade, the other two follow suit. Fucking copycats.

Looking around to spot anything that would let you keep your distance. You will not be getting stabbed today! 

One of the guys lunged, you sidestepped and tripped him. Watching him hit the ground you kicked the knife out of his hands, watching it slide outside the alleyway. Your spider sense warned of an attack behind you, the shadows on the ground gave away a horizontal swing. You get down on the floor and swipe his legs, causing him to lose his balance and hit his head hard on the ground and pass out. One man down, two to go.

The first guy who was bleeding from his nose raised his leg to stomp on you as you rolled away for distance, getting back up on your feet. Your back hit the wall as the one of them swung his fist, you slid down the wall and raised your leg and hit him in between the legs. He doubled down and you stood up, using his hunched figure and grabbed his head and smashed his face with your knee, knocking him out. Two down, one left.

Droplets of the guy's blood stain your face and use the back of your hand to wipe it away, walking away from the unconscious man’s body. You didn’t want to trip on him. The last guy realized how quickly the situation turned, cussing you out as he gripped his knife in frustration. 

Your eyes never left him. You could see the growing panic rise as his mind scrambles for what to do next. He felt like prey in front of a predator. But how could such a prey looking woman be a deadly predator? 

None of this made any sense! It was supposed to be an easy job! Grab lone walking women, rob them, beat them, and if they are pretty enough, take them to have their way. Not whatever this is!

But all that was foiled by this one person. This weak looking woman.

He felt rage bubble up inside him, and he started seeing red.

You on the other hand felt differently.

You didn’t feel intimidated at all. Not scared, and definitely not weak. All you could do was focus on this one insignificant man who decided to unfortunately cross your path. You couldn’t see anyone else but him. Everything else was background noise, silent, and unimportant. Like nothing else exists but you and this weak man.

You could clearly see the man’s intentions, blinded by rage he would definitely be easier to fight. But what transpired here, it wasn’t a fight. Well for the two who are currently out cold it was a fight. For the man in front of you, it was definitely a fight that he is losing. But for you, this was a one-sided beatdown that became nothing real quick.

You weren’t anticipating a secret plan, or a powered boosted villain, or a super genius outlaw, or a blood-lusting alien. You were against average people. Not villains of the week, not super powerful god-like people, just your normal ass person who is rotten within. 

You weren’t tired, or worried. This was a baby fight- not even a fight, one that didn’t require planning, strategizing, or even cautious actions. They are so easy to read and predict. Childsplay is what this was. And a huge waste of time.

The only good thing that came out of this was helping the girl they targeted got away and hopefully has already called the cops.

Now, all that’s left is to knock this last person out, and report them to the authorities, and you’ll be on your merry way once again.

And you know the guy in front of you feels this way too. You can tell that he understands that he won’t- can’t win. Not against you. So he continues to do what his body instinctually does to survive, it chooses fight or flight- he charges. His body chose to fight.

You’re ready for this. You’ll smash his head against the wall behind you and call it a day. You can clearly see how this all plays out.

And in that very moment, everything around you slows down when you feel a sharp tingle, and your spider sense begins to go haywire.

Someone strong is nearby, getting closer. You’re being watched.

This moment of distraction kicked you out of the zone. Everything that was deemed as white noise suddenly became loud- became too much noise. You felt overstimulated with the sound of cars honking in the distance, police sirens making themselves known close by, the music from the bar a few streets down felt louder than they were.

Your body tensed up, rigid and became unfocused.

The knife almost grazed your neck- just barely- had you not moved back out of the way in a back flip. You swore you felt the cold metal touch skin, cold fingers checking in case you were correct. Nothing. 

Only having a few seconds to re-calibrate, you run towards the guy, watching him pull his arm back and launch his knife. You swiftly side step and grab his shirt, pull him towards you, using your elbow to hit this man on the back of his neck letting him drop to the ground. 

The prickly sensation of eyes on you never went away, and your spider sense was making so much noise that you started to hyperventilate.

You back away from the three men on the ground. From the corner of your eyes, two people were standing there, at the entrance of the alleyway. It was the same two people you only saw a glimpse of earlier. 

“Hey, are you okay?” The blonde one asked, taking a step forward while the other assessed the situation. “That was amazing, you know? It’s okay, you’re okay. You did good here.”

The ravenette kept her sharp gaze on your figure, and you swore you stopped breathing. The single step the one person took was enough to make you falter and step back.

Fucking spider luck.

-

Cassandra didn’t really know how to feel about what transpired. She and Stephanie were technically undercover, going around casually overhearing rumors and plans. You’d be surprised how often people talk out in the open when they think no one is listening.

They were assigned to watch out for potential strays that would get picked up by Jacob and his men, making it harder for more runaways or kidnappings to happen out in the open. It was how they also knew that those who were taken were deliberately orchestrated.

Everything was orchestrated, structured, detailed and planned.

And then everything accelerated in just a couple of days, then in a week, names were uncovered, those missing were discovered, now all that’s left is to rescue those within reach and save those who were taken hostage. 

All this happened in such an accelerated pace that what once was thought as coincidence or a lucky break quickly turned into interference. An outside component who had uncovered so much in such a short time- not that they couldn’t be able to do it, it was someone from the inside who was breaking this operation down while they were on the outside trying to break in.

Whoever they were, had tremendously aided in their operation, the only issue is that they are unknown. And Batman doesn’t like unknowns. 

This whole operation had spiraled out of Batman’s control, but it was still controlled, and that’s something that has caught his attention. And soon it will catch his interest.

Cassandra can agree to an extent. Everything detailed from the concise, structured plan, but was still within the parameters, it just skipped a few steps. A sprint instead of a jog, similar but not the same.

Their objective today was to find out the location of the underground fights, the names of those involved, then from there the location of where they transport the missing and kidnaps, infiltrate and rescue before they catch on. 

They were going to use Jon as one of the baits, and use Stephanie and her as loose ends. Jon fits as a gullible and naive teen while Steph and her are asking around for a missing friend, digging deep until Jacob and his crew have no choice but to interfere and take them.

Of course they only just got Jon here, a few days ago a big lead was caught and sent to Jim, names were thrown and things were rapidly escalating. Stephanie decided to still go on with the investigation, and now that they knew a couple of civilians were being targeted, they purposefully went to places they frequented to ask questions, enough to catch attention.

So, they too had to adapt to this anomaly. 

Not knowing just how far Jacob’s power reached, they were going to make it his problem. The only issue now is, that since everything went off script, they were working on an extreme time crunch. 

When they spotted the new face and apparently Jacob’s new obsession they decided to approach you.

Well that was the plan.

Cassandra’s eagle eye caught the rigid and tense posture you took just steps away from the entrance to one of Bruce’s financed shelters scattered throughout Gotham. Eyes roamed your body like a book. Noted how terrified you were, disguising it like control. 

Her eyes couldn’t help but want to stare. To dissect. Mostly to read what your body is honest about. But in that short glimpse she managed to see, your eyes seem to be the more honest one. It has managed to imprint itself into her mind, consuming her thoughts. Like a gravitational pull. Something that has never happened to her before, and that in itself is alarming as well as interesting.

What happened? Why did you stop? What made you turn back? These questions circled her mind. They hadn’t even managed to get close to you to see just what had spooked you. The action you took was so abrupt that Stephanie pulled her hand in your direction as she called out to you.

Only for you to disappear when they rounded the corner. Barbara had lost you shortly thereafter. From what Cassandra could infer, you moved with purpose, decisions made with quick calculations and reflexes fine tuned as if it was another extension of your body. 

With what little she managed to see from you, you had never let down your guard. Not for a single second. You move like you can’t trust anything around you, like you’re alone, like you’re surviving instead of living.

You look like you’re going to break any minute now.

But that doesn’t stop the blatant issue at hand. You’re being targeted, and not casually, no, you’re actively a part of something big, something bad. Cassandra wants to know why.

Why is this case revolving around you? What about you has them paying attention? In retrospect, you are a civilian with too many variables. Too many unknowns. All eyes seem to be looking at you, they want a piece of you. What did you do to warrant this type of action, that is causing this type of reaction?

Cassandra looks at Stephanie, gauging her reaction as Barbara’s voice rings in their ears.

“I lost her. She’s really good at using the back alleys. I’ll keep an eye out, I think it’s best you both begin to suit up. I’ll set the rendezvous point with Hood and Signal. Oracle out.”

Stephanie on the other hand was a tad bit frustrated. You had popped up, and disappeared in literal seconds from them noticing you. Well, more accurately it was Cassandra who noticed you, she only managed to catch a glimpse of your back. 

Though she was able to memorize your fit before you completely bippity boppity booed yourself out of existence. 

You looked hurried, like something was going to nip at your feet if you didn’t move fast enough. Steph glanced towards Cassandra and she could tell that you were important. Important enough that you had both Jacob and them reaching for you.

After losing you, they had attempted to scour the area nearby, in case they could spot you, keep you but that completely failed after an hour of walking.

What followed not too long later was news of you being spotted by cctv at a terminal, buying a ticket out of Gotham. Stephanie’s stomach sank. If they lose you, they lose a big lead. Luckily you aren’t that far from their location. 

Both Cassandra and her book it, only to receive terrible news of you being led away. And when they got there, it was empty, the only lead is the direction you took when being taken. Things were not going well today.

It seems the closer they try to get to you, the further you scurry away. It’s like the world doesn’t want them to make contact with you. 

Then only to find out that you made contact with Dick and Duke, only for them to also lose sight of you.

Life is just laughing at them at this point. Barbara was right, you are good and disappearing. Stephanie doesn’t know if she’s more impressed or upset that you keep giving them the slip.

“I guess we really just better suit up after looking around for a bit.” She suggested

Cassandra nodded, seemingly equally as troubled from the constant setbacks today has brought them.

Just as they entered a dark alley, Barbara’s sharp tone tapped into their comms, and things were suddenly setting into motion. The plan has changed, not drastically but quickly.

And as if their luck had turned, you were spotted much closer than they thought. You had passed some bar almost a dozen blocks in front them. Being assigned to catch up, Cassandra and her quickly took off.

Stephanie hopes you don’t disappear before they get there. That’s now your modus operandi, your m.o., and if you are gone before they get there, she is going to crash out- a very justifiable crash out.

Just as they made it to the bar, lo and behold, you are not there. 

Cassandra feels Stephanie squeeze her hand in frustration. Though the moment is interrupted when a distressed and panic-stricken girl runs up to the bouncer outside the bar.

Stammering how she was almost jumped and that she was saved by another girl and is frantically telling them to call the cops, her phone being broken and missing. Stephanie and Cassandra looked at each other, eyes communicating. This could be it, it’s in the direction you were seen going from Barbara.

And as the planets aligned, there you were.

Two guys were out cold, knives scattered on the pavement, one man left, trembling and then there was you. Standing tall, confident even, but what caught Stephanie's attention, was your face.

Or better yet, the expression on your face. You are displaying something sharp, confident, but at the same time it was something impassive. You were completely locked in. 

That impassive expression is what stole her breath away. You look strong.

That was until you froze, almost getting your neck sliced open before you dodged and flipped away. 

Stephanie almost bolted in your aid but Cassandra’s grip on her hand pulled her back. Cassandra’s eyes never leave your body. They both watch you dodge a knife and bless her heart she felt herself almost bolt to your rescue again before the impenetrable wall of Cassandra Cain had kept her in place.

It seems Cassandra knew you would win without help, without their assistance. But you are a civilian, they should even let this situation be a possibility.

The man’s body hit the ground, knocked out, along with the other two, and there you stood. Just like Cassandra knew, trembling and out of breath.

Stephanie chalked it up to anxiousness and adrenaline wearing off. The look of unadulterated terror is displayed all over your face. So she stopped moving forward. Cassandra quietly beside her watched the trembles in your body like it was telling her a story. A language only she knows.

That’s what was causing your body to shake. 

“You’re okay now. You’re safe.” Cassandra’s voice was calm, and soothing, but it only frightened you more.

“Yea, these guys are down, you don’t have to be scared anymore.” Stephanie waved you over, knowing if she moved you’d bolt like deer. “You fought amazingly, took them down all by yourself!”

Was she trying to distract you? It wasn’t working, you’re more terrified that they both are here. Why are they here? It’s the evening and you’re sure they should be getting ready to suit up and stop Jacob from leaving! Why are these two here?!

“Is-” You try to control the dryness in your mouth, and regain your breathing. “Is the girl okay?” Your voice was soft but clear enough to be heard.

Stephanie perked up. “Yes! She’s fine, you save her. Everything’s fine now. It’s okay.”

If you didn’t know Stephanie Brown and just assumed she was just another person, you’d accept her presence. She has a way of making you feel safe. But you don’t feel safe. Far from it. Stephanie Brown is an amazing woman, kind yes, but she’s also smart. You don’t know her mission. 

All you have right now is fear. Especially because she’s accompanied by Cassandra Cain.

You glance at the bodies before taking a shaking step forward, a cracked phone near the edge of the alley. You don’t need to pretend you’re scare, you down right fucking terrified. You’ll play the hands you have been dealt with though, but you feel yourself about to combust from pure stress.

Cassandra’s vigilant eyes watch your movement carefully, and it really does not ease your mind one bit, but you know she’s going along with Stephanie. So you will too. Stephanie gives you a smile, beckoning you in her direction. You don’t know if Cassandra believes you’re a frightened civilian that Stephanie might think you are, but your real fear at this moment is what is helping you.

“She called the cops, you know?” Stephanie outstretches her hand and you take it hesitantly. “Told us someone needed help.”

“It’s dangerous.” You whispered, standing in front of Stephanie but next to Cassandra, the former softly pulling you into the street light and away from the alley. “You both could have been in danger too.”

Stephanie almost snickers. “You’re right, but you were in trouble too. How did you learn to fight like that?”

Cassandra watched and Stephanie felt you freeze up. Your body was such a book to them. Looking at the grimy ground you let go of her hand, keeping them at your side balled into a fist. You debated what to tell, how to get out of this quickly without them tailing you. What information can you divulge that won't bite you in the ass later?

Stephanie waited patiently for your answer, while Cassandra’s eyes narrowed at your hesitance. “I um- from the streets.” you admit cautiously.

Stephnie tilted her head, filing away the information. “The streets?” Cassandra’s eyes roam your figure, silent like a shadow.

“That's all I ever knew.” You admit-carefully. “It’s all I am good for anyways.” Your eyes are focused on the ground, not glancing up to gauge their expression.

“Do you know them?” Cassandra spoke, almost startling you.

Looking back before looking at her you shook your head. It’s the truth after all. “No. Not at all.” You carefully point across the street. “I was walking over there when I saw what happened.” You didn’t elaborate further than that, wrapping your arms around yourself to ease the trembling.

You’re glad the evening cool air helps cool your head. You refuse to let them know what you know about them.

At this very moment your stomach decided to introduce itself and you wanted the ground to cave in and bury you alive.

“You’re cold and hungry. Do you want to wait for the-?” Stephanie cut herself off when she saw you jump back as if hurt.

“I’ll go. I don’t want-” You took steps back, Cassandra took a step forward out of habit. “I don’t want to be a part of this. I just- I just couldn’t let someone get hurt.”

“You’re safe. Here.” 

You looked Cassandra in the eyes, gauging for deceit, an attempt to read her. You failed obviously. You wonder what she’s seeing in you at this very moment. “No, I’m not.” You spoke with vulnerability, you gripped your arms and glared at the floor. You don’t want to be here damnit! “I can’t stay. I really can’t. I have to go.” Stepping further back to create distance.

“Are you,” Stephanie didn’t want to push but she really had no choice. She needs to buy time, as much time as possible for Duke to come. He’s near, he’ll be here in fifteen, so she really needs to keep you here. “In some sort of trouble?”

She watched as your expression morphed into panic, your grip tightening, nails leaving indents on your bare arms. Stephanie’s eyes were stuck on your face, now that she’s really looking at it. You have a lovely appearance now that’s focusing. Despite your tired eyes, and the eyebags that you carry, you’re pretty- like really pretty. The shape of your eyes complement your face shape, and your lips look really soft despite how chapped they are. You really do look like you’re just surviving rather than living.

Cassandra mostly focuses on your body, reading clearly how anxious and cautious you’re being. Every answer you have given, ever movement you have made, and every expression you have shown, she has been reading them all. When she had settled on your face, she couldn’t help but notice just how raw your eyes are. They tell much more and hide more than your body shows. You look haunted, exhausted, and above all, desperate. You look absolutely desperate. You’re running from something, or rather from someone- based on all the information Barbara has given them.

She thinks back on how they got to this situation. Were they lucky? Possibly, Barbara had narrowed down a radius, they were both on their way to suit up actually. Meet up with Duke first, suit up and then slip up in different directions. So it was really lucky that on their way to the meet up location, a brunette ran up past them to the bouncer at the club a few blocks down about a girl who saved her. How she’s in trouble and it was just her against three men who tried to hurt her. 

They were pretty lucky to have run into you. To be honest she was impressed by how well you handled yourself. Cassandra knew that Stephanie and her would have joined you, creating a distraction in order to save you, but you didn’t need any saving. You held on well.

Now in Stephanie’s case, she was very much impressed with you. It’s not everyday that a civilian can hold their ground. Cassandra on the other hand, she was more cautious. Yes you did fight like an experienced person, but you fought a little too well for a civilian. Your answers confirmed what Barbara told them earlier. You were-- are part of the underground fighting, which does explain your ability to kick ass. The issue Cassandra has though, is the look in your eyes, your body language when you fought those three men.

You didn’t struggle, and fighting more than one person, experience or not causes apprehension, planning, and caution. You didn’t express any from what she has been able to see. You didn’t even look like you struggled at the start. Though you did falter, which almost caused your next to bear the damage but you dodged. You didn’t hesitate after that, didn’t even look scared of a knife being pointed at you. It’s like you’ve dealt with that before. But from her knowledge the underground fighting rings normally don’t include weapons. It’s mostly fists. 

‘I um, from the streets.’ Was your answer. There’s nothing on you, no medical records, no passport, no birth certificate, nothing. Like you didn’t exist. A ghost. Your whole existence is a mystery. And that’s not a good thing, especially not in Gotham. She wants to uncover you completely, see what you’re actually about. But that look on your face. That exhausted look in your eyes that you wear is what catches her attention. You look like you’re going to break. Maybe that’s why she is cautious but at the same time interested in you. 

“I am.” Your voice brings Cassandra back from her thoughts.

Sirens echo in the distance, getting louder as the seconds tic by. Cassandra’s eyes never left yours, and Stephanie focused on your face.

“What kind of trouble?”

-

Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson had just handed the teen off to a trusted police officer and watched him get hauled away.

The inside of his jacket pocket feels heavy. Making his way over to his car, the take out he picked up lays forgotten inside the front seat as he pulls out the envelope that had fallen when the girl he had scuffed twisted out of her sweatshirt, the movement causing it to fall.

He had picked up the envelope and pocketed the phone in the kid’s hand before Signal caught up to him. No girl, he remembers Duke’s expression. Through the helmet, he could tell the kid was exacerbated, brows furrowed, exposed lips tightened. Does this civilian mean something to him? 

He asked for her location, Dick glanced at where he saw her go. Duke went to chase, asking Barbara for visuals.

Off he went. On his walk back to his car, he debates suiting up and hitting the streets immediately or report to Bruce first. The phone he pocketed rings, so he picks up.

“Ricardo.” The unmistakable voice of a man speaks. “Where is Nada.” He demanded.

Before Dick could get a word in, the call ended. He debated returning the call, he wanted to inform Bruce, whatever is going on seems to be bigger than he believed. 

The phone rang and rang  but the man never picked up. Seems he was blocked right after the call ended. Great.

Pulling out the envelope, eyeing the contents. Money, and a passport. Dick will admit it, this passport is extremely well made, feels real too. He’s dealt with this type of trickery back in Blüdhaven, and he’s had pride in identifying these fakes easily. 

The question is, who gave you this? He can infer that you were given this, since it was basically wrapped neatly inside the envelope like a present, all that it was missing was a bow. He can also deduct that you were given this to leave Gotham, maybe even the state, just the final destination is a mystery. Now on the topic of who exactly gave you this, he recalls the events earlier.

“Ricardo, can you drive?” Agitation in the tone. “Even if you’re late, get Nada to the location. Go.”

Nada… God, it’s not even her real name. Dick is curious, really curious.

He thinks back to his encounter with you. He found it kinda strange that you were the only one to not look at him, not even curious to see who called out to you three. The only reason he and you even caught a glimpse of each other was simply because you and him were facing each other during the whole situation. 

He recalls how you stiffened when accidentally making eye contact, you looked- what’s the word- petrified? Not really. Baffled? No. Aghast? Maybe? What is it? It’s the type of look you give when the situation has gone off the rails and become worse. 

Dick decided then and there that he in fact, did not like that look on your face. Expression aside, the look of complete and utter exhaustion also painted her face. He’s seen that look, he’s seen it often. Bruce has that look as well. Hell, even he had that look at one point. You just don’t look well, and not in a sick way, more like, you would absolutely fucking crack into pieces. A haunted look. 

Dick clicks his tongue. He really doesn’t like that look. You look underfed, not malnourished per se, but it's obvious that you aren’t exactly getting three full meals a day. Even with that sweatshirt that concealed your frame, he could still tell. Out of place, that’s how you looked.

Oh, helpless. The word he’s looking for is helpless. So out of place- at least that’s how it seemed to him. Something about you just doesn’t seem to click with your surroundings. 

How can Dick put this into words someone could understand? Oh! It’s like you're the right puzzle shape but not the right image to finish the puzzle. Right shape, wrong image. Yea, that’s it.

You were-are scared when you looked at him. Why? Have you seen him before? Did he do something to you in the past? Did you see him do something that terrified you? 

Dick is trying hard to recall any past actions that would cause that specific reaction from you. He’s sure he hasn’t seen you before. He would remember. A face like yours? He’s sure he would definitely click a memory should there be one. Despite him seeing pretty faces before, Dick is very certain that yours isn’t in his recollection. He is no stranger to beautiful people, attractive faces, but yours- for some reason, has been stuck in his mind ever since he laid eyes on you.

Dick knows that he would not be able to forget you now that he’s seen you. Should he see you in the crowd now, he is sure that he would be able to spot you. His eyes would naturally gravitate towards you. You're like an enigma, something about you is captivating and he wants to find out why.

Even with a quick glance at you, Dick came to some conjectures. You have nothing- this envelope was all that you seem to own. You don’t even have a backpack, so could you be a recent runaway? Probably not, but not completely crossed out. Homeless? He’s leaning more towards that. Despite your exhausted frame and messy hair, you do look like you have a place to freshen up. Have you been in some shelters that Bruce sponsors? You look relatively clean, so Dick deduces that you aren’t in the worst situation of homelessness, but he can’t get rid of this nagging feeling that you aren’t here of your own free will.

You certainly seem important enough to be treated as a package. 

From what Dick can recall, you looked exacerbated when the guy next to you was struck. It seemed (from his point of view) that you became compliant as a result of what occurred. Seems like you’re not exactly a willing participant.

Dick debates whether he is going to suit up and join the search with Duke in looking for you, or report to the Batcave and inform Bruce what just happened. 

When he can’t get the image of your stilled figure out of his head, he makes up his mind to suit up and search.

Pocketing everything again, he decided to call his best option, Barbara.

“Hey Babs, you won’t believe what just happened to me just now.”

Babs fills him in and his heart drops and his demeanor changes. He had just let go of a lead. An important one at that. So there was a reason you looked so absolutely terrified. You’re being hunted like prey, not given a single moment of peace. Your face resurfaces in his mind, the way you’re exhausted and fatigue, like you haven’t rested for some time now. Just how long have you been this way? How could he have let you slip through his fingers.

 She tells him to go to the cave and he disagrees. 

“Dick! I don’t have time for this, I need you here! Things are getting out of control and I could really use your help right now.”

The sharpness in Barbara’s voice does it for Dick. He turns on the car and drives, the food cold in the passenger seat.

“Fake ID, do you think you can figure out where it was made?”

“Yea. Just-” Barbara takes a deep breath, calming down. “Duke’s compromised, but Steph and Cass are nearby. Jason sent me very worrying information. Tim just left me a folder from our friendly neighbor and I could really use a second pair of eyes before I send you to Tim.” 

Barely turning the corner on a yellow light Dick grips the steering wheel at the stressed tone of Barbara. “Where’s Damian?”

“With Bruce. They caught one of Jacob’s major players, the mercenary, you and Duke took out another, and Jason finished the third. Everything spiraled out of control so quickly. They’re leaving tonight and Nada is who they desperately want right now. As long as Duke or the girls are on her tail, they won’t get her.”

“Got it. I’m almost there, give me fifteen.”

“Thank you Dick.” Keyboard taps could be heard through the line. “And I’m sorry for snapping.”

Dick shook his head as if Barbara could see him. “Don’t worry about it. I get it.”

The tapping stopped. “Oh.”

Dick tenses, almost running a red light. “What’s going on Babs?”

“The docks. They’re leaving by the docks. Forget about me and just go, I’ll send you the locations.” Barbara resumed typing away. “I’ll inform the others, hurry.”

Dick turns the car around and his tires cry as he speeds off. “On it.”

-

Sitting inside a cop car is not in your bingo card. Sure you have been inside a few times, but those were mostly before your time as Spider-woman. This time, you really didn’t have a choice. Though you would admit, it took everything in you to not put up a fight. You never really got along with police officers and- and Peter didn’t count.

You heard that correctly. Your Peter Parker, was a police officer. You disliked the cops before, but when Peter told you his profession, it was understandable a mind shattering experience for you.

But he made it work. Peter always makes it work. Until he was no more. You were always distrustful of cops. Peter made them tolerable (not really), but your feelings never went away. And now here you are inside of a cop car getting driven away.

No handcuffs despite your spider-sense buzzing inside you, but there's a reason for that. You’re not under arrest, even if you had beaten three men and left them unconscious in an alley.

You sat quietly, eyes trained in front of you, wary, watching landmarks and reading street signs.

Because- the reason you are in this situation is because the police officer here is not taking you to the station like she proposed in front of Cassandra Cain and Stephanie Brown. No, this officer is taking you to where you’re going to be delivered to Jacob Sullivan Jones.

It seems like Jacob’s package is finally getting delivered. You repeat the same phrase that started this whole situation. ‘If they’re leaving tonight, then they need me tonight.’. This is it, everything hinders on the fact that you successfully get Jacob caught and arrested. 

You can’t afford any delays or setbacks. With this, you’ll finally be free to set up your beacon and go home. You can almost taste it. You can’t slip up. No more. You don’t know where you’re going, you just know it’s where Jacob wants you to be. 

Whatever he brings out, you’ll be ready.

The A.C. blasts cool air despite the already chilly temperature outside, and your spider sense tingles sharply. Oh.

The air had begun to emit a smell, barely noticeable but there. You’re getting put to sleep.

It seems they’re really desperate to avoid any unforeseen inconvenience. They probably assume you’d bolt when an opportunity arises. And you honestly can’t even blame that assumption.

You already had a track record, and all of it was just today alone.

“Jacob is expecting you in pristine condition, hope you don’t mind me taking extra precaution.” Her voice sounded so motherly as it echoed and your eyes began to droop, turning you sluggish. “We’ll be there soon, rest Nada.”

Damn that shit was strong, what the fuck did they put in that? Your spider sense echoed inside your mind and everything around you turned black.

You open your eyes to see stars shining brightly in the sky, and a couple of them pass by every few seconds. They were shooting stars.

“I see you woke up.” the soothing voice caught your attention and you froze up. Turning your head, you realize you were laying down on a thin blanket, the person at your side was also laying down, but he was looking at you. And you felt yourself choke up. “I was thinking of letting you sleep, but you were going to miss it.”

Eyes watered and you noticed a warm feeling in your hand, letting out a choked whisper. “Peter?” He was holding your hand. 

Your eyes watched his face light up, a warm smile with dimples, his cheeks flushed, and his hair a bit messy as his eyes were squarely trained on you, he squeezed your hand that was intertwined with his. “Happy Birthday Spider-Woman, or should I say -”

Your name left his lips, you could feel the warmth in his tone, his face, and his feelings.

Peter.

Prev; Next;

Lol, happy mother's day. Steph and Cass were not supposed to be this soon but oh well. Damian, Jon, and Tim will get more screen time, probably next chapter but who fucking knows. My timeline is fucking screwed as it is. ANYWAYS, no one talked about Miguel last chapter and I'm sad haha.

Kon-El is possibly going to be added but I don't know much about him (only interpretation I know is Young Justice). Regardless, if you see any inconsistencies, no you don't. I bit off more than I can chew and i'm fucking choking.

((Anyone know about a fanfic here on tumblr about the batfam x reader? It was a soulmates where mc dropped into the dc world and she met dick as nightwing first and he is one of her soul mates. I swore I saved it on my phone but I can’t find it— sos 🆘))

I need the fucking ages of these characters-- all i know is that Dick is younger than Babs, Tim and Duke are the same age, Steph and Cass are a year older than Tim, Kon is two years older than tim, and Jon is a year younger than Damian. Am I wrong?

Web Bound Secret Corner!

Spider-Woman's world is different from the other spider-lings.

Spider-Woman's is technically malnourished and sleep deprived, she does her necessities at the centers in case anyone was wondering (showering, brushing teeth, etc).

Spider-Woman's Peter was in fact a detective.

Spider-Woman was adopted by May and Ben when they found her in the streets.

Chapter 7 - Hunt

Everyone knows that Jason and Bruce have their differences, and honestly, no one can really blame Jason for not being his usual- er, past self. He was a street kid, living- surviving off of scraps, steeling, getting caught by Batman, sent away from Batman, then rescued again by Batman, taken in, trained as RobinTM, fighting crime (albeit with excess force), finds out his biological mother is alive, finds her and only to get betrayed by her, gets beaten up by Joker™, and then blown up by Joker’s bomb. The next thing he knows, he wakes up in a coffin, breaks out, gets taken by Talia™, and then gets ‘revived’ via the Lazarus Pit™, and his path of (av)revenge. The point is, he’s changed.

The whole thing after beating the Joker and the ‘somewhat’ reconciliation with Bruce, he still cares for Dick, his ‘replacement’ Time, and even the demon spawn Damien. He cares for Cassandra, Barbara, and Stephanie. Hell, he cares for Duke who is the newest addition to their broken family. He cares for Bruce, despite everything he doesn’t want to lose this family. He’s changed but he is still the same as well.

Which is why, anything that can potentially mess with his family, he will set aside his differences (the ones that are left) and play a part to keep his family (regardless of how broken or messed up they are) safe, keep his anchor whole.

So when news of runaways, abducted, and even street kids are going missing, he didn’t hesitate to join forces with Bruce and the rest of the gang™ to put a stop to this. No matter how long it took to find a pattern, he can’t help but picture his past self, when Batman first caught him stealing, sent him away, only to be trained to steal and then saved again by him, he pictures vulnerable teens who are scared, who had no choice, who were forced- and there is never a day that goes by that he isn’t thankful to Batman- to Bruce, despite everything. 

He’s channeled his anger and vengeance for something good, like he used to do with Bruce. He doesn’t kill, no not anymore- doesn’t mean he won't, not unless absolutely necessary.

But its people like Jacob, that really tip-toe the line that he won’t hesitate to cross but is restraining himself from pulling a bullet through Jacob’s skull.

Jason’s seen his fair share of corruption, of violence, of gore and the absolute worst of humanity- hell, he even became a monster- but never stayed a monster. Jacob isn’t the sickest of them, but he’s right up there for being vile, and apathetic to the misfortunes of these kids.

Jason wonders, if putting a bullet in all of these criminals, will it really reduce the crime rate? Or will these monsters just get quicker, get smarter, creative and get away with their sick twisted crimes? Are they really making a difference, or are they perpetrating more people to commit crimes? Will this cycle ever end? 

Jason wants to believe so. It just takes time, blood, and sweat.

When he first entered the bar, he quickly made his way around the premises, checked every nook and cranny of the building, memorised the layout to a T. His only contact was a worker, a bouncer who attacked, but no Jacob insight. 

The rat had somehow gotten away. Once he knocked out the bouncer, and secured him (and possibly gave him a concussion), he radioed Oracle.

“Anything yet?” He questioned.

“Tim’s with B, apparently they got a list, waiting for confirmation.” He heard her sigh, stress evident in her tone. “Dad got a call from them, no recording.”

Jason kept quiet, just listening. Once he made sure the bouncer wouldn’t (somehow) escape, he made his way back towards the employees office. His boots made no noise, as he stealthily reached for the knob.

Opening the door, the air stilled and his eyes narrowed, ears sharp, body still, one foot inside the room, hand still on the door while the other reached for his gun™. His pupils took in his surroundings, before he fully stepped inside. 

His steps are slow and deliberate, eyes still roaming the room, making sure nothing catches him by surprise. He had half a mind to open his mouth, but decided against it.

Cabinets opened, nothing taken out. His eyes turned to a corner. Files seem to be in place, unmoved. Yet to Jason’s trained eye, he noticed a couple of papers sticking out. Slowly making his way behind the desk, he placed his gun back in its holster. Laptop opened. Someone was in here. This was closed when I got here. Someone was in here while I was out there. Behind the hidden door.

His eyes roamed the open computer, noticing an open group chat. His eyes widened, soaking all the information displayed on the screen. In front of him, was a picture of a face, a very familiar face. His eyes zoned in on the pixels, studying, committing everything to memory, his eyes landed on the message. Name: Nada, age: young adult. Comments: Street rat with skills in fighting, quick on her feet, and highly adaptable. No ties, alone. Needs to be trained. Retrieval pending. Last seen; homeless shelter by the main road, visits various shelters in the area, never stays in one place for long.

Jason quickly places a special flash drive, waiting for it to connect to the Batcave’s computer. “She’s a target.” He recalls his earlier encounter just hours ago, how she didn’t know why she was being chased. He remembers her tensed body, stressed composure and fast thinking. He has to go and find her, she’s in danger. 

His mind also reminds him of her eyes, not of her eye color, but of the desperate look she had. She looked tired, lost, exhausted and on the brink of collapse. They say that ‘the eyes are the window to the soul’ and he couldn’t agree more. His trained eyes could see that she’s holding it together, but just barely, but she’s strong and she’s also scared, and now that she’s involved in this whole trafficking situation, he wonders if she knows just how deep her involvement goes. She now has a target on her back, but he promised to protect her. He promises now that they won’t lay a finger on her, and then, she just might breathe easy. 

Maybe she won’t have to look behind her in paranoia, her shoulders won't have to sag, her lips won’t tremble in worry, and her eyes won’t have to dart around for security. Maybe, just maybe, he would be able to see her smile, shoulders relaxed, and her eyes would shine with security.

Security he knows he can provide once he catches that rat bastard.

Just as the screen flashed ‘Connected’ Jason saw movement from the corner of his eye. Snapping his head to the side, his eyes narrowed. There was nothing there.

Could it have been paranoia on his end? Probably, god knows that he was never the same after reviving. Jason focused his eyes, seeing nothing but a gray blue wall and cabinets opened, just as it was when he entered the second time.

With the laptop already connected to the Bat computer™, he took a cautious step forward, his eyes narrowed. If his mind was playing tricks on him, then he can say he has officially lost it. He swears he can feel someone in this room with him. And if he concentrates hard enough, his brain is trying to convince him that there is a faint outline of a person standing just arms length from him.

His phone vibrated, catching his attention. A message from Barbara. Unlocking his phone, he scrolled down until his thumb slammed on the screen, stopping mid scroll, stepping back into place in front of the laptop.

In the third picture, he clocked it and zoomed in.

His breath hitches.

A blurry picture, black medical mask, eyes away from the shot, taken without her knowing? Focused at someone in front of her but out of the photo frame.

“Nada.” 

Another ‘ding!’ from the laptop. A new message.

‘No family, no friends, no ties, not even a missing poster, no one will be searching. Once secured, we depart. Currently searching.’

In the distance, a window shut quietly with a soft ‘click’ went unheard.

-

Making it to the railing just as your camouflage state began to fade, your breath became sharp and uneven, throat closing up on you. With shaken steps you fell to your knees, reaching for your bag and opening it. Fingers trembling, making it difficult to even unzip the damn bag! 

Your mind kept racing to everything you found. It wasn’t even the fact that they were currently searching for you, it was the fact that this situation was way bigger and disastrous than you thought. 

Your plan was simple. Just get Jacob and co. incarcerated while avoiding Batman and co. and then you’ll solely focus on finding a better power source for your watch in order to get home. You don't even want to mess with The Spot anymore, you just want to get home, your home, even if it’s empty, bare, and cold.

You don’t even have any memorabilia with you, to remember those you love and lost. It’s driving you insane! It feels like you’re slowly forgetting the faces of uncle Ben, aunt May, and even Peter Parker.

Yanking the mask off, clutching the fabric tightly, you took deep gulps of air, enough for you to focus on your five senses. The heavy smell of the city's natural pollution, the rusty paint getting chipped off the emergency stair railing, the sharp almost iron taste every time you swallow, the worn out look of your backpack, and the constant buz of car horns in the distance is what you focus on. Ragged breath slowly coming down to an even tone, blurry vision turning clear, beating heart slowing down to an even tempo after a while of sitting there. You clutch the bag in your hands with an iron grip.

God you miss them. You miss Uncle Ben’s wisdom, Aunt May’s warmth, and Peter’s love. Fuck. You just want to go back. But you know you can’t. Not now, not yet. Not after all this is seen through. You can’t, no, it’s not ‘can’t’ it’s the fact that you won’t leave this mess unresolved. You will make sure Jacob and his associates here get arrested, and the kids get rescued, only then can you finally turn your back and go home.

After calming down, you shuffle around your bag, eye focusing on your civilian clothes. Since the previous plan is currently rotting at the bottom of a sewer, you'll just have to adapt. You’re good at that, that’s all you have ever been good at. Adapting and overcoming. 

New plan, you’re going to find exactly where these missing kids are being taken to, and hopefully, ideally, rescue them. You can’t abandon them, not when you know it’s this deep, this serious. Your conscience wouldn’t let you walk away. Besides, it’s not your way of doing things either, not your spidey way. It seems Gotham still needs all the help it can get, even if it’s from an outsider dropping in.

Also, just to interject, fuck whoever keeps messing with your plans. Nothing has ever really gone your way but still, living in Gotham (not that you’re exactly living in Gotham as a choice) sucks balls. You miss New York, your New York City…

Grabbing your bag and climbing to the roof of the building, you change out of your suit and into your civilian clothes (you’re not risking getting exposed as a hero), making sure you haven’t flashed anyone in case someone is taking a smoke break on another roof or something. You’re also not leaving your bag in a random building either because with your shit (spider) luck, you’ll probably get robbed too, so going back to the junkyard is key.

Who knows how long this will take, but you know you only have a couple of hours. You plan to get caught tonight. So, you might as well set up your escape. After that, a nice, long shower sounds heavenly. 

Taking a glance at the quiet bar, your mind drowns you.

You met Red Hood this time. Not Jason Todd, the stranger in an alleyway who was a great meat shield, but his alter ego, the one who fights to protect, and shoots to defend. Arguably one of the bat family members you least want to fight. The one you least want to encounter (much less fight) is Batman himself.

Why Jason Todd was in the bar was obvious the second you encountered him. You were thankful that your camouflage worked when that door opened, honestly, you’re surprised your stress levels didn’t accidentally cancel your ability like it does with your webs.

Recalling the sheer panic you felt when you noticed him walk in, eyes surveying his surroundings, taking note of anything that might have been misplaced and you swore your heart dropped when he made his way towards you, behind the desk. You had to back up almost against the cabinets, eyes trained specifically on him and his body movements.

When he spoke, you knew you had to get out of there. So you slowly inched yourself closer to the opened door (you wouldn’t know what to do if he had closed the door), and as if by senses he turned his head in your direction the second you took a big step away. You wanted to cry. But by some god given miracle, he got distracted and you booked it away, heart too loud, you’re sure even he could hear it.

You’re sure that you are now on Red Hood’s radar and you don’t want to run into him as either spider-woman or as a civilian. 

Swinging back towards the junkyard, you drop your bag and place everything but the envelope inside, and web it to your beacon. 

After cocooning it, you place it in a corner on the ceiling, using the shadows to camouflage it. You’re making sure everything is set and ready for a quick getaway once you’re done. You can’t afford to make any mistakes, and you can’t stay here any longer. You feel yourself spiraling and every day a bit of hope inside you dies.

If you don’t succeed this time, you don’t think you’ll manage another day, another attempt. This is your one and only shot, because if you fail, you’re guaranteed to get caught by Batman™, and you know you won’t be able to escape ever again. It either ends with you going home, or yourself.

Miguel will understand, he’ll get it. And if not, then that’s too fucking bad. You did everything you could, and if you’re stuck here indefinitely, then you’d rather go on your own terms then let life keep fucking with you. You tried, you know you did, Miguel sure knows you did, but you really can’t take it anymore should you fail in getting back home again. 

You wonder if you’ll somehow see Peter in the afterlife despite being stranded in another dimension…

Regardless, once you save the kids, and get Jacob arrested you’re booking it here, grabbing your final version of your beacon and heading straight to the East End. 

You’re going to suck up all the energy on an electric company building you found. Just to give the final power boost your watch needs to be fully functional. Just enough juice to open a portal and get the fuck out of dodge.

Because bumping into Jason twice just confirmed things. Batman is onto Jacob and therefore you as well. And-- now you are no longer a nobody, not anymore. You just became a ‘somebody’, a target for him and his wards. You’re undeniably, unequivocally fucked beyond belief. The Narrows aren't safe for you anymore- you have to skedaddle. 

You just want out of this fucking universe.

-

The sound of the keys going ‘Click Clack’ echoed throughout the batcave, the screen the only source of illumination seeping through the darkness of the underground.

Barbara had been dutifully scanning faces throughout the Narrows in search of a very suspiciously recurring civilian. Tabs open to clips on loop of said civilian entering, exiting, walking, and disappearing into dark alleyways. A female, taller than Tim but a tad bit shorter than Jason. If she had to guess, ‘Nada’ as she’s being referred to, is somewhere in between Duke’s height to Dick’s height. Eyes sharp, guarded, cold- no not cold- cautious, she’s very cautious. 

Despite the grainy videos she’s managed to clip, she can’t help but be somewhat entranced, committing what she can to memory. Any other form of information she memorizes is from the shared screen of the laptop where Jason is located.

“Got any updates Oracle?” Tim’s voice connected to her comms.

“I repeat again, despite the obvious fact that there’s a severe lack of surveillance cameras in the Narrows, no, the last I was able to find of ‘Nada’ is her going into the library about two hours ago, and left around twenty minutes later. I’m still searching. Though we’re on a timer.”

“Why’s that?”

“Jason connected me to the Bar, she’s being hunted. I don’t know who’s on her tail, but she is being located as we speak. Once she’s picked-up, they’re going to disappear tonight at the latest.” She stressed as a new pop-up clip appeared on her screen. “Signal, your target has been spotted, black sweater, no design, baggy dark blue jeans, hoodie up. He’s ten minutes away from you. Sending coordinates.”

“‘Ppreciate it Oracle.” 

“Red Robin, ETA?” She was starting to get antsy.

“Twenty. Why?”

“I have a report of very suspicious activities down at the shore. Not Marina.” She informed.

“Got it. I’ll head out to check once I drop this off.”

“Batman, Red Hood captured one of the bouncers but Jacob is currently MIA. Robin and Superboy detained the mercenary and a civilian is confirmed to be a ‘package’. Currently searching. How are things on your end?”

“Sebastian is dead.” Her blood ran cold. What? “Investiaging.” And that was it.

What a bombshell. It seems that there are rats hiding in the police force- again. “should I look into it?” She offered.

“No, focus on your mission.” Well alright then. Doesn’t mean she isn’t still going to do it.

Then silence once again overtook the cave. Ever since the arrest of Sebastian, everything seems to have been spiraling and soon it will be out of control. After this, she wants a fucking break, maybe entertain Steph and go on a shopping spree, or relax and watch Cass practice her moves, or even just go back to the library. She’s been stuck in this cave™ helping Bruce locate the disturbance that appeared not too long ago and this case that seems to be bigger than they had imagined.

Lifting her arms up and stretching her sore body until she heard satisfying cracks, she fixed her glasses and once again resumed the search for their civilian friend. Time was of the essence after all.

Then another pop-up window with a clip appeared on her screen, overshadowing everything. Her eyes widened and she quickly connected herself to the comms. “Found her! Spotted a block away from the sanctuary. Gray sweatshirt, sweatpants, black mask, turning the corner. Sending coordinates.”

A cherry voice responded. “Roger that!”

-

They say walking is a helpful way to calm the mind, and honestly, you’d agree if you weren’t currently on a mission to get yourself kidnapped. Not only that but you also had to make it fucking believable that this is against your will, and that you’re scared. Not too tall of an order but you really have to sell it because the LAST thing you want is for the bats to take an interest in you.

You really can’t take any more setbacks.

Turning the corner, you spot a shelter with quite the people crowding around. This was planned of course. Taking a deep breath you make your way towards the shelter, making sure not to bump into any gothamites due to rush hour. 

Weaving around people you get about fifteen feet from the entrance before you stop dead in your tracks. The hair on your body stood tall and your body went into a cold sweat as your spider sense started to buzz before becoming something akin to static noise, loud and constant, just like your anxiety and you felt your mental state depleting by the second. You’d like to believe your body noticed before your senses did. But at this point, who fucking cares.

Your sudden halt caused some people to bump into you, cursing you as they moved around and entered the shelter. Though that didn’t bother you anymore since your attention had been snatched.

The soft tingling feeling turned into a buzz as it spread throughout your body, like thousands of spiders crawling all over your body. This feeling was more than enough of a warning. Like static shock. Cold sweat consumed your very being, body frozen on the pavement, an unbearable weight burdened you, crushing you, shackling you to an even deeper ocean of hopelessness and despair. Choking you, filling up your lungs, suffocating, drowning, clawing-- you just want to breathe damnit! just enough to get home… 

You felt like throwing up and then throwing yourself off a bridge- in that order. You’re tired, you haven’t slept well since you got here, haven’t had a decent and nutritious meal, you’re stressed, you’re sleepy, you’re hungry, and you just. Want. to go. Home. You desperately want to give up, you do-- but you can’t. Not yet. Not until you finish this. Not until you save those kids first, then try one last time. 

You’re involved, and in way too deep to leave it to someone else, to leave it to the bats and birds. 

Finding your resolve, you snap back into reality. No matter just how fragile yours has become. It was time to focus and devise a plan of escape. You can’t afford to get spotted here. Not by them. Not now, not ever. 

Biting your lip you quickly made haste to book the fuck out of there. There was no shot you were going to trap yourself inside when danger is lurking here in this sanctuary.

Nah-uh, no way, definitely not. You weren’t ready for that. You were fucking cooked because from your pariferal vision, you spotted two very familiar girls despite being surrounding with people with the same hair color or features. You were clearly, undeniably, unequivocally, definitely, obviously, unquestionably, plainly, and utterly fucked.

Why were they there, in that specific shelter? You had the unfortunate pleasure of coming to a conclusion you were almost 100% fucking certain.

They were here for you.

And you pray to any and every god in this universe and yours regardless of feelings and stands, that you were wrong and that they in fact were not here because of you.

So you did a 180 and fucking dipped, but did your very fucking best to not make it noticeable how freaked the fuck out you are. Speed walking away and blending into the sea of gothamites for your grand escape.

You don’t know whether to attribute this to your body or spider senses but the sharp prickling feeling caused the hair on your neck to stand and you knew, you fucking knew- you were spotted. Spotted by Cassandra Cain™ and Stephanie Brown™.

“Hey you! Wait- Wait up!”

Yea. Fuck no you were not going to wait. Bye! Just act like you never heard them. Easy. Merging with civilians’ rush hour you did everything to break line of sight before speed walking and turning a corner. Then, when the sharp feeling of being watched snapped into a buzz you fucking booked it down alleyways, avoiding cameras as much as you can while looking back every so often to make sure you’re in the clear.

You doubt the girls would start jumping roofs and climbing walls in their civilian clothes but honestly, with a fucking trained assassin looking for you, you wouldn’t put it past them. Besides, this is Gotham- everything (and anything) happens in Gotham.

A rising sense of dread started to creep inside you, clogging your throat as your spider sense buzzed into a low hum.

Catching your breath, and calming (but failing) your nerves, you start walking in another direction, opposite from where you came from. Then the ‘what-ifs’ started to pop up in your mind, consuming your thoughts.

‘What if Jacob doesn’t find you? What if he gets away, what about the kids? What if you get caught by Batman? What if you can’t do this? What if Miguel can’t locate you? What if everything you are doing is a waste of time? What if--’

A migraine started to form, making itself comfortable on your frontal lobe, throbbing, causing you to stress the fuck out and the urge to break down seems to be inevitable at this point.

But you had to focus, you needed to focus, because you have to get caught by Jacob, no matter what. 

So you kept walking, with no destination, you just moved until you would find someone familiar. Chris, Jacob, or even one of the bouncers-- anyone at this point. The stress is consuming you alive, and you’re cracking, coming apart at the seams, hanging by a thread, honestly, you’re more surprised you’re keeping it just barely together.

That and the fact that you managed to grab the back of a teen’s hoodie in time before they walked right into oncoming traffic. The bus honked as they drove by while the boy almost dropped his phone.

“Whoa!” He turned to his savior as you let go and stared in the direction where the bus went, and a thought crossed your mind. Maybe, if I play my cards right…

Waving off the boy's gratitude with a smile underneath your mask, you turned to him, as he blatantly stared at your face (or what he can see). “Where can I buy my way outta town, kid?”

And with that ‘minor’ existential crisis, you decided on how to get caught.

“Oh- um, I can take you there if you’d like?”

Politely declining the offer the teen begrudgingly gave you general directions and you happily fucked off. Finding them was already not looking so hot, especially locking down a very specific hunter, so, if you’re going to be hunted (with a tight deadline), then you might as well make this easier on yourself and have them come to you. Regardless of who gets to you first, you will go with Jacob and his men. 

The only way that plan goes south is if the vigilantes come before getting taken. If it’s their civilian identities then you are as good as golden. 

“If they’re leaving tonight, then they need me tonight.” And what better way to get found then by waiting by an exit?

You know Jacob’s men (however many there are) are searching for you, so you made sure to walk your pretty ass to a ticket worker and asked for a ticket to (looking up and saying the first random place you read) Blüdhaven, that arrives in twenty minutes, you pay for your ticket and walk away. 

Blüdhaven, a “sister” city to Gotham, a city you know nothing about except the fact that Dick Grayson, the first Robin went there to become the hero Nightwing. Whatever he did or does there, you have absolutely zero knowledge about. Not that you want to know, maybe this is better since none of the bats go there, or worse, since you don’t exactly know what kind of wack-job resides there.

Regardless, it’s not like you’re going to actually go there, it’s just a calling card to get Jacob or his men to come fetch you. Sitting down on an available bench, head tilted down, hands folded over one another, fiddling with your watch on top of your legs in faux nervousness to give a certain expression. 

Every noise made, every step catalog, every sound is scrutinized in a way that keeps you vigilant despite playing off as nervous. Regardless of who catches you, you will make this work. You can not afford to mess this up. Please, please work. I need this to work. 

The soft buzz you have come to accept as a norm in this universe soon turns into a static tingle. Someone’s approaching…

Your senses aren’t going haywire, so it isn’t one the birds, but you know that whoever is approaching, is here for you, and you specifically. Not making a sudden movement your hands fidget as the person places their hand on your shoulder.

“Nada.” Flinching at the sudden contact, you slowly turned to face the perpetrator. It was the guy who was chasing you a few hours before. “Let’s go.”

Sliding his hand to grab yours, he pulls you up, leading you in a hurry but not obvious distress. And you let him. For the plot.

The cameras catch your figure getting led away by another teenager into an alley. Out of sight.

-

Far, far away, a man slammed his fist on his desk as the sound echoed in the spacious room.

The distorted voice message playing in the background as he watched in real time the situation going from bad to worse.

He doesn’t know what to make of this! When this issue came to his attention it was a problem, but eventually it sort of situated itself so he left it alone, letting it play out as he watches. Seeing no need to interfere unless necessary, so he always kept an eye on it. 

But it was different now. Situations change and at first, everything was- okay. Then when he noticed fluctuations, he grew worried and intervened. 

He was able to stabilize the problem, not fix it. He doesn’t know if he can fix it to be honest. But it was steady, for now. He’ll make sure of it. Until one day, an incident occurred and everything went to shit.

He tried, god fucking damnit did he try. He did his absolute best to placate the issue, but it quickly spiraled. All of his interventions and attempts did fuckall. So, he watched.

That’s all he could do. Just watch as things went from bad to worse as time went on. He couldn’t do much about it, but he was trying. Trying isn’t good enough, his attempts aren’t good enough, he couldn’t be good enough to stabilize anything anymore.

So he just watched. Watch how the issue…fixed itself as time passed.

And now, the issue is no more. All his efforts, his attempts, his atonement, and now it matters not. He wonders if he could have done more. He assumed the worst honestly. The voice message is what’s keeping him sane and driving him insane. 

He can’t believe this happened. He knows that it was out of his control, that what happened was out of his control, and what was in his control spiraled to absolute shit. There is nothing to control anymore.

He’s sorry.

He really is. He wants to apologize, over and over and over again. But he isn’t sure if it’s possible to be heard. Will the receiver ever receive it? What can he do now except say ‘sorry’? Even if no one will hear it. Even if it can not be forgiven, he will still apologize. He’s sincerely sorry.

So Miguel rewinds a video, watches the fluctuation and then the nothingness. He’s sorry.

In his hand, a locket. The only thing that managed to stay as itself. A reminder, a haunting one and at the same time a somber one. He’s gentle with it (it’s really precious- to him and to their owner) as he stares at the picture inside the locket. There are two photos on either side, one of the photos has two figures, but only one of the two has his undivided attention.

“Perdóname…” He’s so sorry.

In his guilt, by his lonesome, he misses a coordinate blinking on his screen before disappearing back into silence.

-

The walk was quiet. Too quiet. But that was fine, it was okay. It gave you time to think, to strategize. To comprehend what exactly you witnessed on that accursed computer. 

Names. Kids names, barely adults, the youngest being preteen for fucks sake! You knew Jacob was a sleaze but not this despicable. But who are you kidding? Criminals that lack morals often are.

Yet a selfish part of you kept eating you away. There is a part of you, a big part that is going to see this through the end. Capture and detain Jacob and his crew for their crimes. Hopefully uncover those in higher up the power scale and get them convicted as well. You’d wipe your hands clean, pat yourself on the back and go on your merry way back to Spider H.Q. or even to some other spider’s dimension. Closer to home.

But the other part of you, a very small, barely noticeable but strong part of you is clawing itself into your mind and body. It wants to turn back, to walk away, to leave it to someone else to deal with. You now know that the bat is on this case, him and his birds. That should be enough right? They don’t really need you. Batman is the world’s greatest detective, only triumph by Tim- if memory serves you correctly.

They were talking sometime to figure it out, but you know they would have eventually cracked the case even if you weren’t here. Yea, this mission doesn’t really need you. It never did, the only reason things are out of wack, is because you happened to catch Jacob’s eye. You caused this to happen. It was your fault that things have derailed.

That’s why things have escalated, if not, it would have been a matter of time before the fighting ring would have been discovered, the bar infiltrated, and Jacob and co. would have been caught. Yea, they were already doing something about it before you showed up. Your job is basically over, you don’t have to do any more than this. Maybe…maybe you can really call it quits and walk away. 

Just like all your problems.

You stilled, causing your arm to be yanked in vain. The boy, peeved, turns to look back at you. “We gotta move. Hurry up.”

Uncle Ben, Aunt May, and Peter would be so disappointed in you. Miguel would be disappointed in you. You are disappointed in you for almost giving in. You can literally picture Miguel’s face, and because it’s so vivid in your mind, you winced.

“Where are we going?”

“Just hurry up.” He snapped, tugging harshly.

You looked him in the eyes, really looked at him. He has blond short almost military hair, tan skin tone, and dim light brown eyes.

“Why were you following me earlier?” you didn’t budge.

“Fucking move, you bit-!”

“Who’s picking us up?” You interrupted, feet still planted on the floor, unmoving.

“You were following just fine before!” He snapped, glaring harshly as he let go. “You’re his favorite.”

“What were you promised?” Rubbing your wrist, your gaze never left his eyes as he clenched his jaw. “I told him I’m running. You were following me before. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I don’t care.”

The guy in front of you lunged and grabbed a fistful of your sweatshirt. “You arrogant son of a-” He pulled you in close, enough to notice he has spacious and sporadic freckles. “I lost so much money because of you!” He was seething. “Why the fuck would I tell you anything?”

You kept eye contact as you tilted your head. “You’re trembling. Bags under your blood shot eyes, easily agitated I assume, are you an addict?”

Your answer came with your back slamming on the alley wall. “You condescending mother fucker!” He slammed you two more times, and you let him. “You don’t know anything about me!” He screamed.

“No I don’t. But I don’t need to. You need me though.” This kid looks around your age, maybe younger, but you can tell he has been on substance use for some time. From the hair that you can see, it’s thin, he probably doesn’t hydrate enough either. “On the other hand, I don’t need you.”

From gripping your sweatshirt, he escalated to your neck, mask falling to the ground, rest in peace.

“You narcissistic asshole!” He tightened his grip. “Ever since you showed up, he started to neglect the rest of us!”

Narrowing your eyes, you placed pressure on his wrist, but not enough to hurt him. “How did you find me?”

“You whore, did you sleep with him? Is that why you get spoiled? That’s all you’ll ever be good for.”

You added pressure, he winced. “All I did was fight. How did you find me?”

“He likes you. So much so that he threw the rest of us away.” He ignored your question. “But he’ll get bored. He always gets bored. And then you’ll be thrown to the side. Like us.”

“Like us?”

He smirked, loosening his grip and shaking your hands off. “He made me like this.” He stepped back, hand clutching his head. “He’ll treat you soooo well, and then move onto the next shiny toy. But before he tosses you out, he gets you hooked on some pills.”

Your eyes widened. No…no no no. This took a turn for the worse. “Willingly?” Fists clenched at your side.

He looks at you, really looks, and scoffs. His anger resides a bit. “No.” He watched you tense up in anger. “Not obviously. He picks a favorite and then gives them this in secret. Until you get addicted. Then you just have to make him happy and he gladly hands us enough to be normal.”

Taking all this information in. It’s a blow to your conscience that’s for sure. Now you really feel guilty for thinking of running away.

It seems you wore your heart on your sleeve because this set him off.

“I don’t need your pity!” He swung at you. “This is your fault!”

Head swung to the side on impact. Nothing broken. “I’m not…” You were interrupted by him grabbing your collar again.

“He stopped giving us the pills! I’ve seen what happens when you don’t take them in time!” He readed his arm for another punch. “I’ll die! And it will be on you!” He spat venomously and swung.

Before he could punch you again, another voice interrupted him.

“Hey! Ricardo, enough! Ya basta!” A familiar voice, and a pit formed in your stomach. “If you want your dose you should do as you're told, pendejo.” the man growled and backhanded the boy. 

This was a stark contrast to the tone of voice you would normally associate him with. Dennis, the second bouncer that was M.I.A. earlier, is here- in front of you.

Quickly, you latched onto his arm. “Wa-wait! It was my fault!”

Dennis halted, turned to face you and you wanted to run away. “You got hit, Nada. I just returned the favor.” He turned his body towards you and placed his hand on your cheek. “It must have hurt. Though I know you can take Christoper’s punches well, I apologize for this, it should not have happened under my watch.”

From your peripheral, you watched Ricardo stagger to his feet, blood flowing from his nose, in pain and trembling in fear. He did not make eye contact with the bouncer, or even look his way. Your heart lurched. “I’m fine… but he’s not-”

“He got what he was owed.” Both you and the boy froze. “You shouldn’t have been hurt. Period. That was his job.”

Job. Of course. You’re their ‘golden goose’, a merchandise, and merchandise loses its value if it's imperfect or damaged. Fuck, this boy is in trouble.

“It was my fault. I was responsible- He- He did nothing wrong-”

The hand that was gently placed on your injured cheek suddenly felt cold to the touch before he pulled away. He had a warm smile, but his eyes- his eyes showed no empathy.

“You did nothing wrong. He hit you, and that’s not tolerated.” You heard Ricardo whimper, and saw how quickly the man’s face changed to cold and apathetic when glancing at him.

“I made the mistake- I’m sorry-”

Dennis faced you, warm expression once more. “Don’t apologize. It was never your fault in the first place.” You felt chills.

Dennis is a big guy, big as in tall, muscular, and has the whole security vibe to him. But despite that, he always presented himself like a gentle giant. With his light brown hair, and warm blue eyes, he was very sweet with you. Right from the start too. 

Was this how he always was? You wanted to throw up. He was favoring you, giving you special treatment because you are valuable. But once that value is gone, you’ll be looked at like dirt, and treated just like Ricardo who is trembling like a baby fawn.

You wanted to throw up. This is disgusting. You want out. You want out of here! This is revolting. You seriously feel like you’re going to puke from this stress. But you have to see this through till the end. You owe Ricardo that much.

He said ‘us’, meaning more are going through this right now… And more probably have gone through this as well. Recalling Ricardo’s words, he said some have died. The count? Unverified, and some won’t even be known. That’s just how dark this world, this story can be.

It may be comic books in your world, but it’s reality here. And in reality, people can die, and will die. All the time. Whether you know about it, indirectly caused it, or not know at all- people die all the time. A terrible, horrible, grotesque feeling grew inside your gut.

So you steel your nerves, or at least mask it to the best of your abilities. You decided that you’re gonna get Ricardo out of this. He can not go where you are purposely going. “I- Okay.”

Dennis smiles and ruffles your head, and it took a massive amount of restraint to not sock him then and there. Only moving his hands away. “I don’t like that.”

He stills before pulling away in understanding. “My bad.” Sounds sincere, but you don’t believe he is. He doesn’t even look at Ricardo anymore. Like he doesn’t even exist. “Let’s go. We’re on a tight schedule.”

You recall Jacob’s words. Hunting. Hunting you. This isn’t hunting, no you’re willingly walking into an enclosure. You do want to get caught just to find where the other kids are, but you aren’t going to make this easy for Jacob. No, let him earn his paycheck. And besides…

Glancing at Ricardo who’s quiet, his steps don’t make any noise, he’s shrunken into himself to avoid having a presence. Your priority changed, Ricardo has to go, just not with you.

“And Nada,” Despite Dennis’ large frame, he only turned his head to face you, a warm smile on his face. “You’ll come with me willingly, correct?”

“I told him that I would be going home.” Your response caused Ricardo to whip his head in your direction, shocked, while Dennis’ smile tightened and he stopped walking.

Ricardo, as if instinctual, grabbed onto your sleeve, hands shaking, and Dennis turned to face you. “He told me to pick you up. You don’t have a home and we can be your home. You’ll be fed and have a warm place to sleep. We can offer you stability, you would need not to struggle to live. Isn’t that nice, Nada? Just come with us. Come home with us. Choose us, Nada.”

There was silence, a measured pause before you opened your mouth. “And if I don’t want to?”

The temperature turned cold, and your senses went from light buzz to quiet static, gradually increasing.

“I am not allowed to hurt you. I can’t hurt you.” He replied. “But I don’t have to, and won’t have to hurt you.” It sounded too confident to be a lie. It was a promise.

Ricardo made himself smaller behind you, his grip tightened.

Your only response was not a verbal one. You just simply continued walking and Dennis smiled and continued leading towards the end of the alley, where he parked a white commercial construction van. Taking your time, you watched Dennis open the door and wait next to it, watching your every move. 

Three steps until you reached the van, you heard someone make their presence known.

It was about fucking time.

-

Duke approached the set location both Oracle and Steph with Cass provided with. 

Earlier when Duke caught a teen, one of two (that he knew of), the kid spilled on sight.

“...And they’re taking Nada.” He sobbed. Duke went rigid at the familiar name.

“Taking her? Where?” He held himself back from shaking the teen.

After getting notified that the civilian he is familiar with (‘familiar’ meant to be taken with a grain of salt) might somehow be involved in this somewhat rapidly escalating situation was starting to get him a bit antsy. 

When he first located his target, a teen named Frank, the pieces slowly started coming together. Albeit rather too slowly for his convenience. But Duke sure likes a good puzzle, and he’s almost done with this one. It’s just that this civilian Nada, is a piece that he isn’t sure where exactly fits here. 

“The uh- man-manager really likes Nada.” Frank gripped onto Duke, body jittery, clear exhaustion on his face. “He’s looking for her. Ah, right n-now. Um, our job is to find N-Nada.”

Duke’s expression darkened at the thought. “Where is she? Where is Nada?”

Frank swallowed his saliva, “I don- I don’t know. I swear! All I know is th-that we were told to find Nada and bring her to Christpher. B-but then the location changed and-”

“Where?” Duke stressed.

“I don’t know- but! Um,” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old phone. “Here! It’s all in here. The location ch-change and updates on Nada.” Almost dropped it with his trembling hands.

With this new piece of information in his hands, he feels that much closer to finding the civilian that seems to be way too connected to this case than he would like to believe. It was getting harder and harder to keep himself in check.

“Anything else? What about you?”

Duke got to hear just how many these teens get recruited at best, and taken at worst.

They get these teens, younger ones, to convince others like them. They branch out all over Gotham, but they have gotten many of them through Park Row, mostly known now as Crime Alley. Duke knows this is one major reason why Jason has silently joined their mission.

On the other hand, those who are kidnapped are usually the upper middle class and some of the homeless. At first it was assumed they were picked at random, but quickly it was discovered those with issues, whether it be addiction, felony charges, or violent tendencies are selectively chosen. Those who figure them out are older adults, who also have issues.

In order to find rats, you send a rat.

What started as a small scale quickly turned into a regular occurrence. If Jim Gordon and some trusted other officers hadn’t caught on to the myriad of missing people’s cases, this might have gone on longer until it would have been too late. 

“I- I am just a nobody. Just someone wh-who helps bring in more people.” The kid before Duke began to shed tears.

Duke zeroed in on this information. “Is that what happened to Nada? Did you or anyone else recruit her?”

This caused Frank to jump back. “What? No!” He let go of Duke as if burned. “I-I wasn’t the one who-who brought Nada in. That was the manager. He found Nada.”

Okay, now they’re getting somewhere. “When? Do you know?”

“A bit over a week ago, I think. The ma-mannager really likes Nada.” Frank rubbed his head pensively. “He always treats them kindly, sp-spoils them, and even lets them pick when and how many fights they'll fight in. He’s, um, he’s been trying to get Nada to join him.”

Duke felt his blood run cold. “Join him?”

Frank freezes, and the winces. “The manager pr-promised to take some of us with him. But ever since Nada showed up. He- he has basically abandoned us!” He began to cry, hands covering his face.

“Do you know where they are taking her?”

Frank shakes his head, sobbing.

After some more questions, and comforting this shaking teen, he relents and waves a police officer towards him. Guaranteeing Frank won’t bolt at the sight of a cop, he believed he got everything he could from this teen, and so he handed them to an officer. 

He checks the phone given to him and immediately contacts Barbara. But as if the universe was working with him, she reached out to everyone about the civilian's location. About you.

“Found her! Spotted a block away from the sanctuary. Gray sweatshirt, sweatpants, black mask, turning the corner. Sending coordinates.”

With Stephanie’s reply, Duke hopped on his bike and looked through the phone he received. “I’ve got a phone, with locations and ranks. No names. Just a couple of active locations.”

“Your civilian friend was spotted near a main road, a shelter. Cass and Steph are nearby, how did things go with the kid?”

“She’s involved, and the guy brought her in. Jacob.” Dukes watched a location ping near the shelter Barbara told him about. Could this be you? Are you being tracked knowingly? Just how involved are you?

“I can practically hear the gears in your head turning. Mind sharing?”

“That guy, he said something that stuck to me. ‘He’s been trying to get Nada to join him.’ and by the tone, it seems one-sided. I’m not sure just how involved she is… Something isn’t adding up right.”

“Is that a conjecture or are your feelings-"

“I’m sure of it.” Duke sent all the information on the phone to Barbara. “And if I'm wrong, then she is still just like the others. Lost.”

After a moment of silence, she responded. “Alright. I’ll keep you updated then. It seems she managed to lose both Cass and Steph. I'll admit, she is slippery for sure. She’s being hunted, Signal. And not just by us.”

“I know.” Duke sped away. ”I’m on my way.”

-

“Hey you three!” A charismatic voice called out, making his way towards you three. “Is everything alright?”

You felt your body straighten up but did not look back. Despite the voice not sounding familiar to you, your spider sense was all the confirmation you really needed.

Dennis walked past you and Ricardo, shielding you both as inconspicuously as possible. Anyone wouldn’t have noticed the intent, but the stranger was extremely well trained, and he noticed.

Honestly speaking, he wasn’t really going to get involved (liar) completely, just assist and go on his merry way, his presence didn’t seem completely necessary. Well, that was the case- until the large guy threw hands first.

That’s something he couldn’t turn a blind eye from. Not that he ever would. Despite how tired he was, and how all he wanted to was to get home and spend time with his family, he knew this took precedence. A gut feeling. And it hit the mark this time as well.

He has been very busy lately, but he had promised to make time to visit and because he had also promised to show up for an event but something urgent called him over. And he didn’t know it could have been even worse than he anticipated. The whole timeline went out the window so quickly that it sped up progress, as well as action.

Now that he’s in town, picking up some pick-me-ups for nostalgia- his peripheral catches movement. That’s when everything clicked into place.

He quickly catalogues the threat. A man, tall, built like a bear, leading two- one absolutely petrified, and the other guarded- civilians further down an alleyway. He doesn’t hesitate, and makes his way over, calling out to the three of them.

He was a good distance away, yet can see clearly how both froze up (which isn’t suspicious in of itself), and only one turned their head back in his direction, dried blood crust from his nose. He looked like a mess really. The other still hadn’t turned around, just tensed, shoulders stiff, posture straightened but slightly curved into themselves, as if not wanting to take up space. He catalogs all this information before his eyes return to the man who adorns a warm smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

The bigger guy walked towards him, a smile that would have fooled anyone if he hadn’t blatantly witnessed this guy backhand one of the young ones. He’s glad he trusted his gut feeling.

“Everything’s alright. Sorry for disturbing you.” The bigger man spoke, stopping a few steps in front of the two others. “We’ll be on our way, you should too.”

The one who was frightened before, trembling still, but his bloodshot glare didn’t go unnoticed. “It’s no bother really. It seems that one of them has a bloody nose. I know it’s not any of my business-”

“Then walk away.” Dennis interrupts.

“I know it’s not any of my business, but I think he should really get that checked out. I can give you directions to a nearby clinic.”

Ricardo barked in protest. “I’m fine! I just fell.” His hands never slackened his grip on the sweatshirt.

“You heard the boy, this isn’t your business.” Dennis “Have a good rest of your day, sir.”

There was a moment of silence before the guy nodded. “Yes I see, I’m sorry for coming off as meddling…” Patting his pockets he pulled out his identification. “You see, I’m an officer and I was just making sure everything was all right.”

At the mention of the occupation both Dennis and Ricardo became tense, the only difference is that one was able to hide it well while the other winced, backing away (while pulling the other person).

“I assure you that everything is just fine, officer.” Dennis gave a quick glance to the badge before glancing behind him. “Isn’t it?”

“Yes. I just fell.” Ricardo repeated, pulling the other person along, towards the van. Just two more steps.

Fear. Ricardo was expressing obvious fear. At the officer? No. He hates the cops, and will always bite back. His fear is from Dennis. And he was being very obvious about it. And the officer clocked it immediately. He could work with this.

Putting his badge away he spoke calmly. “What is your relationship with them?”

“That’s very invasive officer.” Dennis’ lips strained to keep its appearance. “He said they're fine and it's getting late. I’m taking them home.”

“And I’d let you, really.” His demeanor changed. “But something isn’t adding up here. You see.”

Dennis has patience, but it is running thin right now. And he knew that. He also knows that the other civilian still hasn’t moved, as if stuck in place. They never once turned around, truly guarded. The itch is growing, and he knows there's more at play here, he knows it, he can feel it. Now, he just needs a probable cause to still keep them here. Ragebaiting is also an option.

“Officer.” Dennis’ voice strained in thin veiled annoyance, reaching inside his suit jacket. “We really are in a hurry,” Pulling out a black card, he holds it out. “If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to call. We really must be going now. Good day.”

The officer quirked an eyebrow, but complied anyway. He made his way and reached out for the card, making a show of reading the fine print. Interesting. His ears picked up the hushed voice of one of the two civilians.

“Get on, hurry!” Ricardo whispered as he stepped on, pulling the sleeve of the other. He glances at the guy.

“Quit it, I’m going!” A softer, androgynous- but leaning more towards feminine- voice replied, equally low, but his ears caught it all the same.

“I need to see some IDs.” He puts the card inside his jacket, a smile once again on his face when he notices the eyebrow furrow in annoyance from the big guy.

“Oh what basis?”

“The guy over there is sweating, his body is trembling despite it being about 65 degrees out, blood shot eyes, and was bleeding from his nose that I saw you hit him earlier, by the way. The ‘I fell’ excuse didn’t work on me, and,” The officer made sure the big guy didn’t try anything, and if he did, he’s already ready for it. “He seems to be going through some withdrawals. I’m just trying to make sure everything is okay. Like I said before, I need to see some IDs.”

“Ricardo, can you drive?” Dennis pulls out his wallet and with it an ID, showing it to the officer.

Said boy flinched, as if the attention towards him physically hurt. “Um- no sir.”

“Then figure it out and go.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let any of you walk out. Your ID is fake, Dennis Mayson. Now I really can’t let any of you walk away. Not to mention your friend over there hasn’t turned around once since I called out.”

Dennis’ warmth smile completely dissipated. “Go, Ricardo.” He pulled out a knife from his suit, aiming it at the officer. “Even if you’re late, get Nada to the location. Go.”

Well this took an interesting turn. The officer couldn’t help but watch the scene unfold pretty dramatically. Well, everything can happen in Gotham. In the blink of an eye, he lunged just as the big guy did.

A big swing and he side-stepped before grabbing the arm and pulling. The guy dropped the knife and caught it with the other hand and swung.

He jumped back, releasing his hold. “Sorry to inform you, but you’re under arrest for attacking a police officer.”

While the skirmish started, he noticed from the corner of his eye the male dubbed Ricardo pulled the girl out of the van. Now he was able to catch a glimpse of the other party member.

His eyes immediately locked onto hers and noticed how she stiffened up. Eyes, worn down and tired, frame is light, hair somewhat of a mess, body posture showing signs of anxiousness and stress, but what captivated him most, was her face. 

In that moment of distraction, he snapped back to reality in time to avoid a strike to the face. A sharp sting followed by droplets of blood appeared on the left side of his cheek. Well, he mostly avoided a strike to the face…

“Ricardo, GO!” Dennis stressed, swinging.

The officer dodged as both the civilians started making their way out of the alleyway opposite from his position. He didn’t really mind perse, he will end this fight once they’re out of sight and then find them. He’s confident he can find them.

After all, he was trained by the world's greatest detective.

-

Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson.

That’s who you made eye contact with when Ricardo pulled you out of the van. Because why the fuck not. You can’t have peace for a god damn fucking day.

You watched how his eyes zoned in on you immediately, watching, noting, examining you like one would examine something with interest. You shuddered.

You recalled reading that Dick was going to come back to Gotham but why did it have to be today of all days? You’re seriously about to lose it. Honestly.

“Hurry up! Let’s go Nada!” Ricardo shoves in urgency.

“I’m going! I’m going!” Just as you both were about to turn the corner, an engine rev could be heard coming from the direction you both are heading.

Around the corner a very familiar yellow motorcycle came into view, blocking your path. You noticed through their helmet that they were focused solely on you. “It’s you.” They way he said those words, soft and almost in relief.

Eh? What the fuck is happeneing. You knew you were getting hunted, especially by Jacob and co. but to be caught this soon by the birds is honestly going to be your thirteenth reason.

“Oh shit. A suit!” Ricardo pulled you behind him. Things were going south real quick.

Duke got off his bike, hands in the air to show no weapons, and not hostile intent. His (covered) eyes never leave your frame. “I’m not here to hurt any of you. You’re being hunted.”

You think? Your eyes narrowed in anger. You already know that! That’s why you’re stressed the fuck out!

Duke takes your facial expression as hostile and fearful. Before he can say anything else, a loud grunt is echoed through the alley and he notices a fight between Dick in his civilian (detective?) clothes, and one of Jacob’s members. Oh shit.

Ricardo bolts, harshly yanking your sleeve to run past the van causing both Dick and Duke to snap their attention on you. “Signal, switch!”

Duke wanted to protest, but now that he has found where you are, he’ll respect Dick’s decision and switch his attention towards the bouncer.

Dick on the other hand swerves around him and runs towards where the two civilians headed. 

Dick notices that they are fast- or more accurately you are the one who’s agile. He watches them run towards the crowd, trying to lose him but once again, he’s trained, and he can easily spot them.

He estimates catching up to them in less than five minutes. Well, at least he will get some of his steps in early. His mind plays back to what he witnessed before the chase.

It seems like Duke wasn’t just patrolling, he was tailing. And you seem to be his objective. 

You both ignore Dick as he calls out for you to stop. Yea- no, who even listens to cops anyways? Though, despite the head start you both acquired earlier, it seems that he would catch up real quick. You’re confident in yourself to easily maneuver around, but Ricardo on the other hand is not as agile as you. And he’s slowing down by the second.

“Where are we supposed to go?!” You press.

“I don’t know!” He huffs, out of breath. “I was just told to take you to him!” The bouncer.

“Great, so we’re both fucked.” You yank him when he almost trips.

“You bitch!” He hisses. “All I know is that we needed to find y-you!” 

There was no way you were going to get caught by Dick Grayson or Signal, or any of the bat co. as a matter of fact. 

And now Ricardo is starting to wheeze in exhaustion. You are compromised. And your spider-senses went haywire.

“Stop right there!” A hand grabbed the back of your sweatshirt, halting you with ease and in turn, stopping Ricardo in his tracks. “Gotcha!”

You stopped yourself from socking him in the gut.

Ricardo, on the other hand, pulled out a switchblade. This bought you enough time to forgo your sweatshirt, leaving you only with a tank top. “Just run Nada!”

Dick easily subdued Ricardo, his eyes watching how you didn’t even hesitate or look back as you booked it. Crossing the streets as the light turned green once you were on the other side.

He watches you glance back and disappear into the crowd.

Guess he’ll have to suit up and discuss what just happened with his family. 

Being a vigilante is a stressful 24/7 job.

Prev; Next;

Yay Dick finally made an apperance. I almost forgot about him lowkey.

If you find any inconsistencies- no you don't lolol. I also didn't mean to take that long for the chapter-- oops. Poor mc can't catch a fucking break- yikes.

Stephanie and Cassandra will get more screen time soon.

Arc I is more centered in mc's life trying to get home. Arc II is more centered around her relationships with the others. That's why I'm trying to speed run this arc lolol. I'm almost there- trust, I will get there I swear.

Web Bound Secret Corner!

Spider-Woman helped fix things inside the bar enough times that Jacob started calling her "Tink"

Spider-Woman's was going to find a way to get Ricardo captured first so he can get treatment for his withdrawals but he did the job himself.

Spider-Woman isn't like the other spiders, though some things do overlap.

Spider-Woman's date of birth is January 1st.

Spider-Woman's spider sense causes her to be paranoid at all times, thus causing sleep deprivation.

Chapter 6 - Lock In

Tim Drake takes pride in his detective skills. He is glad he can put his talents to good use, really he is. But this case he is currently assisting on is weird. Weird in a sense that things were unfolding rather quickly. 

At first it started as a few missing kids cases. Runaways going missing, and sometimes they unfortunately turn up dead. It wasn’t just runaways though, upon further investigation, it seems they weren’t the only targets. 

No, it was much more. Orphans, runaways, even those with families have been going missing and the numbers have quietly increased but not to the point where the public is concerned. The only reason it has gotten any attention is because shelters have documented teens getting scouted and then disappearing and no ransom call, ever.

It has been going on for months, the paperwork and reports being buried until only just recently has it been getting attention by James Gordon. Bruce being how he is, and what led him to become Batman, made it his mission to uncover the cases of missing teens.

What they found was very little but enough to narrow down that this is a group doing. And it’s not their first rodeo either. The most common link is the shelters where these runaways go, since Bruce has established some Wayne Foundations around town the cctv around there have significantly narrowed down possible leads.

And then they had a breakthrough, a familiar face kept appearing, but only recently, and thus narrowed down on the search. Just when they were getting somewhere, something unexpected happened.

Life threw a boon. Someone with information was caught. Sebastian. Not only was he caught, he was set up, someone had called and tipped information on Sebastian which led to his capture. Then, said man started spilling information, he talked real fast, shining light on this case that happened to be worse than they all thought. 

These kids were lured in for one thing. Trafficking. How they were lured varied, kidnap non-risk teens, bait goods such as drugs or money to the wrong crowd, the vulnerable ones, or straight up recruit those who were interested.

Recruit them for what? Illegal fighting rings is a start. Regardless if you were kidnapped, lured, or went willingly, you were trapped into a crime ring essentially with no escape. Your life was theirs. Some of these kids have lost their lives, and some haven’t been seen since.

Despite spilling, Sebastian hadn’t or wouldn’t disclose the locations of these rings, only that they’re new to Gotham but not in general. This was never good news. 

And yet they were catching more and more people who are directly linked to this case. Some runaways were discovered laying low, but these are just the ones that went willingly, the missing ones are still a now show if not found in a body bag. 

Till one of the runaways spoke of a fighting ring behind a bar. A well known bar to be exact.

He felt like this case was coming to an end. Now all that’s left are the missing kids. God after this, he wants to sleep for three whole days. 

“Got a breakthrough.” Barbara’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Which one?” Ah, how can Tim forget?

They’re actually working on two cases. The runaways and the newcomer of Gotham who has yet to be identified. The only thing they have to go off of is sketches and looks so farfetched that they haven’t been released to the public.

Only in Gotham as they say. No one says that.

“The kids.” She informed him. “Or more like a possible link.”

“Do tell, I need a break.” He joked. There was never a break for the geniuses.

“I wish, here, look at this.” Babs chuckled, “This man, Jacob,” cue the picture of the man in question popped up on the bat computer that both Babs and Tim are sharing. “I scanned his face for some time, and guess what?”

Tim can literally see. “What?” He played along. 

“Jacob isn’t his real name. Say hello to Eric Mosquera.” Barbara jazzed hands. “He’s the right hand man of a well known cartel in Spain. It took some time but he got work done, he looks better now than before.”

“Well now, having a foreign cartel was not in my bingo card for this case. Who do you think is his doctor? They made a miracle.” Tim sighed. “What are they doing here in Gotham? Can’t they stick to their own territory?”

“Oh you big baby, think of it like this. If we stop them here, then Spain is free from a murderous cartel group.”

“If only things would go that smoothly. They’ll just lay low for a bit before rearing their ugly mugs again.”

“Yea whatever, we got this in the bag. Go tell Bruce, I’m going to follow up on something else.”

“Are you talking about the new ghost vigilante?”

“You know it, no matter how many cctv there are in Gotham, they still somehow are barely seen.” And honestly, it’s getting on her nerves. “I’m pinpointing locations of arrests and possible sightings of our new meta outsider.”

Just then a message popped up on the computer, a message Tim sighed for the nth time. “Sorry to interrupt your brooding hour B, but I have something I think you want to know. Also you have a message from Commissioner Gordon.” Reading the message he frowns.

“On my way.” Bruce responded.

This information didn’t have to be in person, so he saw no reason for Bruce to come, no, actually now that they know about Jac-er, Eric, they can just go to the bar Eric owns. And would you look at that, it just so happens to be the bar that the mercenary happens to frequent. “No, I think it’s best you go with-”

“I am fully capable of handling it myself just fine. I don’t require father’s assistance.” a third voice snapped. “I’m here with Kent, we’re fine Drake.” And the line was turned off.

The attitude.

“Explain.” Batman demanded.

Tim held back a sigh “So you see, the mercenary actually seems to work for Jacob who is actually Eric Mosquera and is the right hand man of the Spanish cartel known as El Conquistador. What a lame name…” Tim mumbled the last part.

“Who’s in the area?” Besides Damian and Jon were left unsaid but Tim knew.

“Duke’s twenty minutes away looking for a lead on a runaway, but Jason’s in the area. Cass and Steph are in their civvies scoping out shelters and for any suspicious movement. Want me to suit up?”

“Negative. Let Jason handle it. I’m going to have a chat with Sebastian again. Meet me there in thirty.”

“Roger that B.” Welp, so much for a breakthrough. It’s a good thing he was already suited up beforehand. 

Just as Tim was about to click on Jason’s icon, Damian’s name flashes on the screen first. “Drake, look into the time of now and send it over to me.”

“Hey- wait-” Tim was caught off guard, with the order “What’s this about? I thought you didn’t ‘require assistance’ for this.” He teased, Barbara raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“I don’t.” Damian snapped and shut the comms off.

“What is going on…” Despite the odd request, Tim hacked into the cameras where Damian and Jon were located, Barbara side eyeing in interest. He still had time before meeting with Bruce, so he watched as a civilian threw themselves out of Jon and Damian’s path. “What the?” His words caught Barbara’s attention as she focused on what Tim was watching. Recognition flashed in her eyes but kept quiet before focusing on her assignment.

Tim was amused as he watched the stranger panic and apologize. ‘Cute.’ Unfortunately there was no audio, but he’s sure Damian recorded it. Looping the video back, Tim couldn’t take his eyes off this civilian. Not much was shown but he couldn’t help but be enchanted, dazed even. It seems Jon and Damian felt the same way. Was this ‘love at first sight’ for his baby brother?

Whatever, he made sure to save the video and push the stranger out of his mind for now. Time is short and he still needs to tell Jason his mission before he meets up with Bruce. Barbara kept her eyes on the video before returning to type on her laptop.

Tim calls Jason. “What?”

Everyone is so rude today. “We got a lead on the manager of the bar. I’m sending you the info before I leave. You suited?”

“Yea, let me see what you got.”

Tim watched all the information sent to Jason’s icon. “Alright then-”

Tim could only hear movement and Jason’s line went silent, then muffling. “What the?” Had something happened to Jason? But Tim clearly heard movement before the line went silent.

He called out again before hanging up and dialing once more, getting ready to become backup incase Jason needed it. “You still there?”

“Yea, I’m still here. I’m in the Narrows, following the lead.” Okay, seems like there was nothing Tim had to worry about.

“Good, while Damian follows the mercenary, you got the manager. I’m seeing some suspicious moments, it seems he’s leaving in a hurry. Turn on your commlink, Bruce is already moody as he is.”

“When isn’t he like that?” Tim can feel Jason roll his eyes. “Did something happen? Why’d you go silent?”

“Just helping a civilian. She was getting chased.”

Man today just keeps getting better (sarcasm). “She safe?”

“She’s fine, just left. Seems so but I’ll check up on this later, probably a stalker.”

“Alright then. I’m out to join Bruce. Stay safe.” Tim ended the call and headed out, making sure to inform Barbara.

“I heard, don’t worry.” Tim watched Barbara scan the database of a certain voice.

Before he left, he was curious, “Whatcha got over there?”

“Just some recordings, the tips my dad has gotten, wanted me to run a voice check but as you know, nothing pops up. I think whoever calls is using a voice changer. Clever bastard, why can’t they put this much effort in being the good guys.” 

“Well, if anyone can solve this, it’s our very own genius hacker. Good luck.” Tim headed out.

Barbara waved him away as she made herself comfortable in her wheelchair, she pulled out her phone and opened her messaging app.

-

“Fortunately, those calls get sent to me. They always start out the same.” Jim presses play on the saved recordings.

“Ricardo Rodrigez, age 32, thief and aggravated assault. Gotham Park, smoking and drinking.” Jim plays the next one. “Erick Gardfield, age 19, breaking and entering, car burglary. Grocery Market, South side of Gotham.” “Trent Dawrin, age 22, several DUIs, alcoholic. Partying at Gotham collage, North side.” “Andrew Thomas, age 43, domestic violence, stalking, several assaults, battery, gang related crimes. Crime Alley, in a white van, plate name…”

“This one was our breakthrough.” Jim plays the next recording.

“Sebastian Davis, age 38. Several counts of sexual assault, selling illegal substances to minors, stalking, and in possession of an illegal fire arm. Stripbar, East End.”

“That’s when I called you to interrogate him.” Batman confirms with a nod. “We received eight tips, and the other five are from our interrogation with you. All through a payphone, never the same location, and I believe they’re always near.”

Batman stays silent, head put to work. “Visual?”

“Never caught. Regardless, I have more information on the kidnappings. We thought it was just trafficking here in Gotham from a crime lord. Bruce, this is bigger than we thought and we’re stretched thin. Sebastian confessed to several hidden and underground fighting rings, kids get thrown in these and they fight and get sponsored, after that, they’re shipped off to be hunted for sport. Here’s everything we have so far. I know you can find out more.” He hands Batman a flashdrive. “These kids, a lot of them are nameless, we got nothing… I’ve got two sheets of papers with names and some with no pictures. It’s what I was able to pull from the system.”

Batman takes it. That’s right, once Sebastian was in custody, he spilled so much. All in exchange for protection, that coward. He was the reason that they even know about the mercenary deserter from Australia. Took two days to track him down, and where he frequents. 

And now, Damian is on his tail, today.

Batman nods, pocketing the usb in his utility belt. “Anything else?”

“So far, no. Nothing about the new vigilante, not even in the media has seen them.” Jim sighs a deep tired one For such a nosy group of people, he’s genuinely shocked they can’t get any pictures other than a blurry figure that’s hard to decipher even with new technology. “No connection to this either. Think you're scaring them off?”

His response was nothing but silence as Batman jumped off the building, disappearing in the shadows despite the daylight. Rescuing those kids, and shutting down these ‘underground’ fights takes priority.

Now that he knows these poor kids are going through hell in his city, he will stop at nothing to save them. Hell will come to those who get in his way. He won’t let them become like him.

Jim watched his trusted friend leave him alone on the rooftop of the GCPD Headquarters. Walking down the stairs, heading to his office, he sat down in his room in silence. He and others had worked overtime in order to solve this case. He couldn’t imagine just how long this was going on for. 

On top of his desk, was the folder of this case, a profile sat on top of the others, an uncaught criminal-mercenary. Christopher Connor was the name dropped days ago. A “bodyguard” of sorts as well as a military deserter. Government name unknown, just this fake alias was given. Hired by an unnamed person, and has been in Gotham for a little over a year. Tracking him was a bitch, but Batman and his wards were able to locate him. 

They still couldn’t find one of the hidden fighting rings, but he knows they’re close.  He can feel it, call it- a detective intuition. Sebastian Davis was tight lipped about that one, Jim knows he knows. All he did was drop names, no locations, no place of residency, not even which side of Gotham they are. Just names, ranks, and descriptions. And he’s giving this information out piece by piece. Not enough to complete a puzzle or to fit two together. Just sporadic random puzzle pieces. He’s buying time.

What Batman did get out of this piece of shit was where they would like to scout vulnerable teenagers, or runaways. The dirtiest part of Gotham (ie. The Narrows, Park Row, and Marina to name a few), or the desperate parts of Gotham, like the homeless shelters scattered throughout.

Jim wonders if there will come a time where Gotham would be free of crime. He would love to be alive to see it one day. He just needs hope.

Moving his sights to his computer, he checks his emails and anything of importance. After ten he noticed something. In the tab he sees a pop up. Clicking on it, the three simple words caused a pit to form in his stomach.

‘They know. Scatter’ 

“They know?” He repeated to himself. Was this message left for him? Was he the only one to receive this or was this intended for someone else? Surely not. Surely… It seems the police are onto something, and this sender is warning them to not get caught. How deplorable, corruption at its finest.

The pop up containing the three words vanished when he clicked on the tab, as if it was never there. He may not be tech savvy but he’s smart enough to know that (the tab closing on its own) is not normal.

It seems he is going to have to pay his daughter a visit. Placing his scattered notes inside the folder he placed them in his carrier and dialed his daughters number. Taking a few steps out his office and before he could press the green call button, his phone rings. An unknown number. 

He’s about to cancel the call when he felt his gut twist. Such a foreboding feeling, he swallowed his nervousness as anticipation builds up in his body, his thumb slides on his phone screen.

-

Somehow your mind was still intact as you made it back to the junkyard. Your spider sense had finally quieted down when you got a good distance away from Jason Todd, the Red Hood. How shitty is your fucking luck to run not only into Superman’s son and Jason Todd? 

Your mind is on thin ice. So close to collapse. To add to your fucking worries, you took off your sweatshirt, meaning you exposed your watch. Though, your saving grace is the distraction of your pursuer taking the attention away. But god you are losing it.

Changing into your suit, bringing along your bag containing your civilian clothes and crocs, you pulled out your phone, the one that you bought, and located the office Commissioner Gordon is a part of.

Were you nervous? Yes. For one, you’re going to be awfully close to the Batsignal, and second, you know for a fact that Jim Gordon snitched. ‘S why the birds are here in the Narrows, where only one of the wards patrolled.

Leaping off of the warehouse roof, you make sure to stick to tall buildings, using it as cover. It’s still daylight out here after all. 

Leaving the Narrows, and keeping an eye out for police cars, or any indication of a crime you could stop along the way- nothing. That’s good, means there are no distractions, but you know that most crimes occur indoors rather than outdoors. Those tend to be harder to discover and even harder to solve. The underground rings are a perfect example of that. Well lucky for Gotham, you’ll put a stop to it, for good.

Landing on the roof where bat signal is located at the junction of the area called Five Points on the lower east side of Gotham City, you were good at making sure you weren’t discovered but you can kiss your ghost status goodbye if you climb down the window in broad fucking daylight. Guess you could call him?

But he’s a senior (technically), and you’d feel bad making an old man like him climb the stairs just to see you for a few minutes. What if he isn’t here? Then that means you showed up for nothing, how embarrassing. Guess you’ll call his phone directly first, save yourself the embarrassment. 

Though you can always just place the information down and pray he is the only one who picked it up. It would totally suck if anyone other than Jim finds this. Your paranoia is honestly taking over your rational thoughts.

Pulling out your burner phone, you dialed the commissioner’s personal phone number.

What are the chances he would pick up an unknown number? He might not believe you… buuuuut, you have a trick up your sleeve should he not believe you. Two rings and a half later, you heard his tired voice.

“Who’s this?” Damn, no ‘Hello’?

“Commissioner Gordon,” You greeted, making sure your actual voice was not used. “It’s a pleasure.”

Jim recognized the voice on the line, you could tell. How? Simple, his tone of voice changed to serious. “It’s you. The one that leaves names and locations. Who are you?”

“Here’s my last tip.” Serious, no nonsense, stern, and not acknowledging his question. You can’t get distracted, especially since time is of the essence and if the bats are on this case, it will keep them occupied, you hope. “Jacob Jones, age 38. Manager of an illegal fighting ring behind a local bar in the Narrows. Suspected of recruiting wanted and up-and-coming criminals along with runaways. Risk of fleeing today. I’m sure you got my message earlier.”

Jim was rendered speechless, and his heart sank.“‘Risk of fleeing’?” Another terrible feeling appeared in his stomach.

“They know the bats are onto them, they’re scattering. You have less than twelve hours before they disappear for good.” You informed. “There’s no time to waste.”

Jim couldn’t help but ponder how things could go so wrong so quickly. “I’m on my way then.”

“I would have liked this to stay between us, but I’m sure you already informed Batman.” You sighed, body tense from all this stress. “Once this is done and over with, I will be out of your hair for good. Goodbye.”

“Wait!” Deciding to humor the commissioner, you stayed in the line, so he continued and repeated his earlier question. “Who are you?”

“I’m just your friendly neighbor- friend,” recalling the time when the police chief from your world asked this same question when you saved him, your chest throbbed. “Only passing by, I won’t stay long. ‘Sides, this is the bat’s territory. I’ll leave the files under the bat signal, make sure you’re the only one picking this up.” Then you ended the call.

This is better, yes, old age be damned. Avoid contact as much as possible, no more unnecessary risks, your mental health won’t be able to handle any more setbacks. This is good, now that this will take care of things, you can fully focus on going back home. You were never going to debut yourself as Spider-woman either way, so this is playing it safe. The less attention you draw to yourself as your alter ego, the better, it’s a miracle you have managed to escape the bat’s radar this far, and you really don’t want to jinx it. Hopefully you won’t ever have to come in contact with the infamous Batman himself. 

Leaving the files you were able to hear faint frantic footsteps in the distance, as if someone was running. Without hesitation you ran off the roof and swung away just in time as you heard the metal door to the roof open. 

“Wait!”

Swinging away you couldn’t help but sigh in relief. That was too close, and honestly, you think you’re pushing your luck way too much this time. Now you really have to lay low, even if they catch Jacob. You just can’t risk it anymore. Since you know the commissioner is on his way, it’s time for you to visit Jacob (again) but as your alter ego spider-woman.  

All ya gotta do is make sure he’s webbed up before he can disappear on the cops. Even if he talks about a person in a spider suit to the GCPD, there will be no video evidence to expose you. Just him and your webs. 

But you need to find the right timing. You can’t do it now, it’s still bright out. And waiting until dark will only increase his chance at escaping. So you need a plan. A really good, full proof plan.

Though what does stress you out is simply how much time you already spent here in this foreign world, far from home. You miss your phone, or better said, the contents in your phone to be exact.

Photos and videos, all of you and your loved ones. Stored into one device that is so far out of your reach. Since being stuck here, if you could wish for anything (besides going home) is for your damn phone. You’d really lose it if you lost the one device that has all your fond memories stored in one drive. If you lose that, it would definitely be the end for you.

“Stay in the game, babes, you can’t tweak out just yet.” Maybe giving yourself a pep talk when you're at your wits end isn’t a good idea solely because it isn’t helping you in the slightest. 

Swinging between enclosed apartment buildings in order to keep a semblance of being inconspicuous, you land in an alleyway near a random convenience store but close enough to have a clear eye view of the bar you had left earlier that day (as a civvie). Making yourself comfortable sitting on the fire escape stairs you observe.

Despite being early in the afternoon, and every gothamite was going about their day, the bar was surprisingly quiet. Very underwhelming if you say so yourself but you’d never dismiss your sixth sense when it comes to bad feelings. Something isn’t right.

“Where’s the bouncer?” With how crowded the streets are, their bar is fairly popular and always has customers (even on less busy nights), so there is always a bouncer. They have two bouncers, both work twelve hour shifts, and you know for damn fucking sure, the second one is m.i.a. 

It’s still day time and you were fucking sure you were not about to walk out with your suit on. That was suicide. Especially when the bat (aka Red Hood) and the country bumpkin (Jon) are out here working overtime. This fucking sucks. You feel that time is running out, should you really risk this? As spider-woman? Placing your bag down, you decided on your next move, but with precautions.

Your mind drifts off into a memory with the man who wanted to chain you to his side.

“What did you buy with your first winning kid?” Jacob’s eyes zoned in on your figure, watching you wrap your hands securely.

“How’d you know I went and spent it all?” Finishing the wrap, you looked up at him. “And I’m not a kid.”

“‘Spent it all’? You kids sure don’t know the concept of managing money.” He chuckled, his eyes locked on you. “How did it feel to make that much quickly?”

For some reason, you felt like he was testing you, everything you respond and everything he asks has meaning, and that your answers are being dissected. “Too good to be true, if I am being honest.”

Jacob chuckled, “Yea? You’re making plenty even while cutting your fights. Too easy for ya kid?”

Scoffing you fiddles with your fingers. “I’m getting by just fine, but it doesn’t mean I don’t struggle. I’m just passing the time. And I’m telling you, I’m not a kid, I’m already of drinking age.”

“Seriously? You look fifteen, maybe because you look scrawny with those baggy clothes. Regardless, you really impressed me that night.”

That night where you both met. You didn’t pay attention to it at first, but you know that this guy isn't what he appears to be. He acts differently towards you then with Christopher or the other no-names in this place. He’s charismatic, friendly, attentive if you pay attention, but why you? What’s his gain here? 

The people that come in and out of this bar are mostly adults, but there are some…not so normal attendees here as well. Both with not so good intentions, and those who seem to have almost lost it all. But the people here, they are willing participants- not forced- as far as you can see that is.

“Is that so? I was just letting off steam and defending myself.”

“Did you enjoy it?” His tone changed.

“Of course, who doesn’t like putting arrogant thugs in their place?”

“Yea? Is that why you humiliated Chris that day?”

Letting out a chuckle you rubbed the back of your neck. “Guilty. It was fun.”

“I noticed.” Jacob leaned back on the bench, his eyes never leaving your figure. “Are you bored?” Jacob watched you tilt your head in confusion. “To me it looks like you stopped trying after Chris. You’re distracted.”  

You stretched your arms for a moment. “Was it obvious?” You asked sheepishly.

Jacob’s turn to put out a chuckle. “Nah, not to most. But I noticed, and so did Chris.”

“Is that why he won’t stop glaring? I swear he has it out for me!” You slouched.

“Where’d you learn to fight like that?” His tone changed.

There we go. The small talk was getting really tiresome, was this the question he wanted to get to?

“The streets.” Regardless of what he meant with his questions, you did learn to fight on the streets. You didn’t really have a mentor to teach you, you learned it as you went, from hands-on to watching, you picked it up to survive. Meeting Miguel until much later did you refine your skills but you started alone.

“The streets huh.” Jacob pondered your response for a bit, causing you to straighten up and lean back on the bench. “Was it fun?”

Without hesitation, you nodded. “Tons. Never a dull moment. I grew up and learned.” Relaxing your posture, you gave him a smile. “I got my ass beat a bunch, but I learned real fast. And I paid them back tenfold.”

Jacob stood up and ruffled your hair. “Ya plan on fighting forever? Why not take it to the next level? I say you’re prepared. You’ll make good money. Even better than now.”

Moving his hand away you got up. “I don’t think it's for me. Besides, I am only passing by. I don’t have a reason to continue, just making enough to enjoy the little things in life.”

“Not your thing?” Jacob started walking, and you followed beside him. “ Leaving Gotham, where do you plan to go then?”

With slight hesitation you answered giving a melancholy look. “Home.”

“Home.” He repeated, “You far from home?” Jacob asked, looking ahead as you both came closer to the ring.

“Very far.” Cracking your knuckles you chuckled. “But I’ll get there soon. I’m just biding my time right now.”

“I see.” Jacob’s tone became lighter, his mood changed from serious to cocky, placing his hand on your shoulder. “Listen kid, this guy you're facing hasn’t lost a single fight in three years. He plays dirty and most of the money is against you. Your play?”

“I also don't play fair.” You crack your knuckles.

“Atta kid, play around for a bit, give the audience a good show.”

“I’m not a kid…”

You heard cheers for blood as you entered the ring.

Pushing the memories back, you strengthen your resolve.

Pulling your mask up and taking out your burner phone from the bag you began to dial the number you memorized since it was given to you by the owner of the number. Jacob’s number.

The ringing seemed to get louder as it went on until the third ring and a voice picked up. “Hey there Tink. To what do I owe your surprise call.” It seems he was expecting to hear from you despite you being there earlier.

“I’ve got questions.” Lifting your mask above your nose so that your voice is heard.

“I see you must’ve opened your gift.” You can practically envision the grin he has plastered on his face.

Gift? Is that what he’s disguising it as? “What’s the catch?”

You could hear him chuckle on the receiver. “Most people would ask ‘why?’ but not you. No, never you. You’re so different from what I expect. You don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“I’m not ‘most people’.” Eyes narrowed, ignoring his tangent. “You said it was a gift, but I highly doubt that.”

“What’s got you all tense like that?” It was like he was mocking you. “No big bad Bat is coming for you, so you can relax.”

“I told you before, I’m from the streets, and in Gotham, nothing is given for free. I want nothing to do with the bats, just wanna go home.”

“You’re so paranoid.” Jacob ran his fingers through his hair, eyes narrowing. “Though, you aren’t wrong. Gotham isn’t a place where kindness is given for free. You see, my little ‘gift’ is an incentive of sorts.”

I fucking knew it. “Uh Huh. What sort of incentive?” You deadpanned. “What required you to make this for me?” You just wanted to confirm, that’s all. Put your mind at ease if that was possible with the stress and anxiety your situation has caused thus far. “I never asked for this. I never asked for anything.”

“You see, you told me you’re far from home,” A pit formed in your stomach. “And I had this made to… help you out. To get home.” This wasn’t even close to what you meant when you gave him that answer. The ugly feeling inside you kept growing, till it clogged your throat- like a bitter pill to swallow.

“That makes no sense! You gave me this for a reason.” You stress. Why? Was omitted from your response.

“Yes. I did. You see, I wanted to show you what I can do for you.” His answer didn’t satiate the ever growing turmoil of anxiety.

Why? What did I do to catch his attention?

Your silence let him continue. “You said you were just ‘passing the time’, figured I’d give you something to make traveling easier and passing time faster. You can use it to ‘go home’, or, if you can’t,” you body broke into cold sweat at his next words. “You can use it to come with me. I can give you a new home, and you can pass all the time you want.”

What? What bullshit is this??? You knew for a fact this man was not going to let you go easily or at all. If he catches you, he’d clip your wings. He seems like the type to do so. Bastard… This was to keep me in check.

“I already have a home.” Your teeth clenched. “I told you that. I am going home, just not yours.”

You could hear him chuckle, his tone arrogant, like he didn’t believe a word you’re saying. “Alright, I only wanted to express my gratitude for all the wins you got under my name. It’s a real shame. I want to take you to greater heights.”

After contemplation, and for the plot, you asked. “...Take me where?”

“Abroad, in Spain. That's where the big leagues are. And, your new home, should you choose to come.” with me was left unsaid.

“I appreciate the offer, I really do (not). But I just want to go home.” Deciding to end it there, you throw any and every useless feeling out in order to concentrate. “This isn’t for me.”

“It’s a shame.” He repeated, confusing you for a moment. “I really do like you kid, and I’m gonna miss your jabs. Alright then, you have fun.” It seems he gave in. “Enjoy yourself.”

A cold chill engulfed your body, it was like this wasn’t over for him “...Yea, I will, thank you. Good-bye.” Ending the call you sighed in frustration. You didn’t believe him for a second. You knew this man wasn’t going to let you go. And you wouldn’t let him get away either. 

Placing your mask back down and securing it in place, you steel your nerves. “Time to lock in.”

-

Duke felt his phone vibrate.

Upon opening up the messaging app, his body froze. There was a clip of a familiar civilian he had his eyes on, coming out of a bar, a very familiar bar. His chest clenched at the thought that she was involved. 

He had to get to the bottom of this, he needed to confirm this with his own eyes.

[Oracle: There’s more. She’s been in and out for the past few days. Think she’s involved?]

Duke clenched the hand that wasn’t holding the phone.

[Signal: We don’t know that. What else do you have? Name?]

[Oracle: Relax Romeo. Damian and Jon ran into her not too long ago. After that she went to a library, then no dice, but I’m still looking. She doesn’t appear in any other cameras. There barely is any surveillance out there in the Narrows.]

[Signal: Got it. Keep me updated, and thank you.]

[Oracle: (:]

Duke placed his phone away as he calmed his thoughts. His mind recalling the first time he met the civilian. When he was told by Barbara that she scanned your face for identification, there was nothing, zip, zich, zero, nothing. Not even a resemblance in this world of seven billion people. It’s like you were one of a kind, unique, and rare. He remembered staring at your bare face, the one without the black mask that covered your mouth and nose, he engraved the shape of your eyes, nose, lips, and face to memory. Something in him just wouldn’t let him forget, not that he wanted to either.

You were an enigma, like an anomaly per say. This obsession on finding you only grew as he watched the video of you getting escorted into a bar by a familiar suspect. Duke came up with a couple of conclusions for this turn of event.

Based on your actions, checking into a motel with no name(is suspicious in of itself), and the fact that you go to shelters as well, it's obvious you have no place to call home, nowhere to go, meaning you’re a runaway escaping someone/something.

Finding out that you’re associated with a (confirmed) suspect, puts him on edge. Did you join voluntarily, or did you have no choice. After all, you’re just trying to survive.

Well, it seems he’s going to find out soon enough. Because he’s looking for another civilian associated with that bar, and they just so happened to be spotted within his vicinity. He’s getting closer to the truth, he knows it, he just has to lock in.

Revving his bike, he locks in, and drives away. 

-

Bruce didn’t know where things went wrong. But then again, he should have expected things to never go smoothly, especially in his city, in Gotham. Despite the crime rates and the reputation it has, he still loves his city, and he wants to change it for the better. He doesn’t want anyone to suffer the way he did, to turn out as broken as he became. He wants the city to prosper for the better, and he’s doing everything he can for that goal. 

And yet, an outsider vigilante has suddenly popped up in his city. A meta vigilante of all things. Bruce can’t help but feel exhausted. He doesn’t know their game, or why they are here, in his city. Are they here to cause trouble? Are they here to ruin the carefully monitored city he poured his blood, sweat, and vitality in, fighting to keep the peace in his beloved city? He won’t allow this stranger, this nobody to inflict harm, to infect, and to change Gotham. He’s going to chase this unwanted presence, this anomaly down, and get rid of it if it poses a hindrance. He can’t allow unchecked power to roam Gotham. It’s already fragile as it is, and he can’t afford any mistakes, and possible hiccups. 

But in order to do so, he needs to find out exactly who is in his city, after he rescues the children that are missing. His priority right now is the children, those poor helpless children, just like he once was. He can’t help but get anxious as days go by when another name is printed and posted throughout the city walls. But the pieces are coming together, slowly but surely. The outsider is running on borrowed time. And he’ll use any means at his disposal to uncover the rat roaming around.

Now, regarding the terrible news he was just told, he quickened his strides inside the police station. 

When he left Jim on the roof earlier, he was making his way towards where Sebastian was being held, only to receive a distress call from Jim informing him that the very same person they were going to meet, is dead.

“I don’t know how this happened!” Jim exclaimed, stress evident on his face, posture defeated. “I was told he hung himself, so I came quickly, he was already pronounce deceased by the time I got here.”

Bruce, or Batman, tightened his jaw in anger. Of course the criminal with crucial intel who was cowardly throwing bits and pieces of it in order to keep his life is killed. 

That’s right, killed not suicide. No, Sebastian was desperate to live, that’s why he took a plea deal, his protection in prison, in exchange for information. This was deliberate, intentional, too perfect for it to be a self exit. There are more rats here in his city than he anticipated. 

Batman locked in when he went to the monitor room (where Tim is currently at), where he can see all the surveillance footage, from who entered to who left, to who was on guard. The death looked fresh, around twenty minutes from when he entered. Jim followed while Tim clocked in the folder in Jim’s hand.

He noticed crease marks from a tight grip, probably from stress, Tim asks about it.

“Oh!” Jim quickly handed the folder to Tim, knowing Bruce would keep an ear out while he searched the cameras. “It was left under the bat signal, right after you left.” 

Bruce tensed but kept focused on the screens in front of him. 

“Do you think it's the same person?” Tim bit the bullet and asked as he flipped from page to page.

“Yes.” Jim sighed, his fatigue showing through his face and posture. “I only had two sheets with twelve names, three missing kids, four with pictures. Here is a list of seventeen missing teens and five runaways. Only two have been sighted roaming around. But they run at the approach of officers.”

Tim paused on page three, a blurry picture of a familiar looking face appeared. Walking out of a shelter in the Narrows. This slight movement caught Bruce’s attention.

“Someone familiar?” Bruce made sure to make a copy of the footage, but no dice. The cameras paused and looped for some time. Enough for a person, maybe more to slip in and out. The issue is, is it one person, or more? Was someone here messing with the cameras or was it a single mole who disrupted the surveillance as they walked in?

Tim nodded, eyes scanning every feature, “This one civilian looks familiar. No identification other than their stage name. ‘Nada’.” Despite the blurry picture, and the obvious black medical face mask, it was their eyes that caught his attention at first. The shape of their face was next, and that was all he could identify. No gender, they wore an oversized sweatshirt, but they appear pretty androgynous looking. 

Jim ran his hair with his hand. “I also got news for you Batman.”

Bruce placed his hard drive inside his utility belt, Tim snaps out of his trance and hands the papers towards him. Scanning each page his jaw tightens. These kids are out there somewhere, alone and afraid, but Bruce promises to find them. To bring them home. Batman promises to find them. 

“I got a notification earlier.” Jim pauses, recalling the suspicious warning and then the call. “And right after that, a call.”

Bruce’s eyes pierced Jim, focused. “They showed themselves?”

Tim’s eyes widened. This is confirmation! The meta was close! He has to give this information to Barbara pronto. Taking out his phone, his fingers tapping the screen vigorously. 

Jim shook his head. “When I handed you everything, I went into my office. The pop-up screen had a message, ‘They know. Scatter’ was written. When I clicked my screen, it vanished. Just as I was about to call my daughter, they called.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed at the information. “Blocked number?”

Jim nodded. “Private.”

Tim interjected, placing his phone away once he was done taking pictures. “What did they say?”

“They sent me that message, and then, just like the other times, reported Jacob Jones, the manager of a bar. “Risk of fleeing” they said.” Jim felt an immense stress and exhaustion overcome him. “Tonight. And that there is an illegal fighting ring behind the bar. In that folder, the last sheet is associates and criminals. When they told me the files were under the signal, I ran. I only got to see a blurry figure, they looked like they were flying- no that’s not it. Gliding? They were far, and their suit fading, as if camouflaging with its surroundings. I couldn’t see them that well. Sorry.”

Batman took in the information, but he was deadly quiet. His mind racing with thoughts and theories. “Tim.”

Tim straightens his posture. “Yea?”

“Go back and take this with you.” Bruce handed him the files, and the usb drive that he received from Jim earlier.

Tim pockets the drive and clutches onto the papers, knowing already what Bru-Batman wants from him. “I’ll drop it with Oracle and join the search.”

Bruce acknowledged with a nod and turned back to the cameras. “Jim.”

“I understand,” Jim replied. They were going to catch the mole. “I’m ready.”

Tim quickly left, things were getting serious. “Oracle, did you get that.”

“All of it. I’m searching the area, in case they landed nearby. Seems our ‘friend’ has the same interests as ours. For now.”

“I also got a list.”

“I saw, thanks, this will help tremendously.”

-

“What the fuck.” It seems that you can’t catch a break. 

Once you put on the mask, you stealthy made your way towards the bar, making sure you were out of sight and away from the ground. You thanked god you are able to camouflage yourself, making sneaking in so much easier. 

This was risky for you because despite the benefits, you also don’t always rely on it as often as you would like. The reason was simple, nothing major or out of this world really, it was simply the fact that when you lost everything, you were often then not out fighting/training, or tinkering with gadgets to keep you preoccupied. A coping mechanism if you will.

Thus resulting in negating your abilities that didn’t involve dodging and hitting.

Regardless, here you are, sneaking in a very suspiciously quiet bar (it seems to be empty), what happened to the customers? Why does the sign say closed? Just what happened after you left here hours ago?

Making a b-line towards Jacob’s office, it was clean, too clean and neat. A pit formed into your stomach. 

‘They packed up…’ Quickly making your way towards semi open draws and pulling out files, papers, looking around for any important documents, checking walls and desks for anything. Anything at all- until you came to the conclusion that there was nothing. Nothing at all.

‘No no no no! They couldn’t have gone away! No!’ Despite the chaos in your mind, you took a deep breath and calmed down.

You couldn’t afford to panic, you had to make sure you were thorough. Eyes finally landing on a closed laptop that was sitting neatly on a pristine desk you opened it to find a locked account. You scoffed. There were no paper trails in this office. But this computer might and can be a whole different story. ‘I’ll work my magic.’

Cracking your neck, you began the process of bypassing the password locked account. Keeping an ear out despite the lack of people in the bar, you still wanted to be safe, to make sure no one would get the drop on you. 

After a few attempts and three minutes go by, you unlock the account, finding it clean of anything. Of course, there is nothing on it, but that’s only if you aren’t looking. Messing with the settings and restoring the latest versions it was before it was cleaned out, you began to look at the contacts syncing with this laptop.

Pulling up the security cameras, to work your magic, come to find out they aren’t even recording, everything is wiped. That’s not a good sign at all.

Reading a few messages from betters during ring fights to stocks and merchandise, to voicemails to money laundering and much more, you scrolled down towards a specific group chat.

This chat was synced to Jacob’s phone, ‘Mercaderia’ was the name. “Lame.” you mumbled. 

Clicking on the group chat name, your body froze, eyes widened at the information in front of you.

Here on this group chat, with over one hundred members, were a list. Not just any list. No. This was a familiar list. A neat, organized, and detailed list.

Here contained pictures, and stats on teenagers, young adults, and fucking children. All with their name and abilities, and a price. Some even had remarks of their wins and losses.

Scrolling down, watching the faces and names being crossed out, dead, and some with specific training in the art of ‘entertainment’. You felt yourself become sick. The depravity of all this is sickening, how can people enjoy this?! You didn’t expect this!

This is human trafficking… 

Ding!

Your eyes caught a notification for the group chat.

Clicking on the notification of said group chat you didn’t think you could feel any worse.

Scrolling down on the ‘recommended’ list, a new popup showed, and it was your face, with no mask, and a start bidding price. The words next to your picture, ‘Street rat with skills in fighting, quick on her feet, and highly adaptable. No ties, alone. Needs to be trained. Retrieval pending.’

“They’re looking for me…” after the sudden realization, your spider-sense started to buzz inside your head as you heard trained, quiet footsteps, making their way in your direction.

Glancing at the display of cameras, the person standing behind the door was none other than the person you came in contact with earlier.

You are starting to feel like your presence here was nothing but a cruel joke to you.

As the door knob turned, and opened, you took a deep quiet breath and closed your eyes.

Prev; Next;

Sorry. I legit have no excuse for not writing. I just stopped.

It seems that the pieces are slowly coming together--THANK GOD I swear I almost gave up...

Anyways, I have a plot for this but not a complete one, so I will have to write where I want the story to go. I only have the ending of THIS arc but no clue how to get there-- oh well. I'll figure this out.

Smoll dose of Miguel next chap- whenever that is

Web Bound Secret Corner!

Spider-Woman's suit has a built in voice changer that she can turn use.

Spider-Woman's priority was just getting Jacob (and associates) arrested.

Spider-Woman's hobby was singing, hasn't sung since the incident with Peter.

Spider-Woman is terrified running into Batman.

Chapter 5 - No Time to Waste

It’s been a week and a half since the last power surge incident and so far everything was quiet. Too quiet for Batman’s liking. It definitely increased his paranoia which in turn causes him to be extra moody. The culprit? Whoever was behind the power surge in the Narrows. They became an anomaly to Gotham. Unwanted, an eyesore in the eyes of Batman.

And the issue is, there hasn’t been any news at all. No sightings, no suspects, nothing. Bruce felt challenged in a way. Something is in Gotham, living in his city and he feels like he’s still so far from discovering who or what it is. For the world's greatest detective is having a hard time solving this case. How frustrating.

With no news of another quantum breach, big or small, nothing. It’s frustrating. What’s even more of a headache about this unsolved case, is another thing that has come to his attention- thanks Jim.

Bruce started hearing more reports of a new ‘vigilante’. But there are no pictures, no camera footage, no evidence, just testimonies, occasional sightings and witnesses. Nothing concrete, nothing solid, just no proof. So frustrating.

And there is a pattern.

What he does know is that they are always quick and efficient, never staying too long, leaving once or before the police arrive, and it’s always low level crooks like muggers or thiefs. Respectful and polite (from those they saved) and they mostly keep to the shadows of the night.

Whoever this new problem is, is trying to stay hidden and Batman doesn’t like that at all. Not. One. Bit. 

Despite the Narrows being Duke’s territory, he is just one person who patrols in the daytime, so some of his sons and daughter help patrol at night. But it seems this newcomer has incredible luck and scurries off everytime they are even close to their location.

But this doesn’t mean Batman will just let it go, oh no. Of course not silly, he’s going to find this new vigilante and see what they are about. He’s going to evaluate them, judge them, and all it takes is one mess up. Just one and he will make sure they are locked up in Arkham.

A bit extreme, possibly. But he will take no chances, not when it comes to the safety of his city. Gotham is his to protect and defend, he’s keeping many eyes out for this intruder. Watch your back.

“Sorry to interrupt your brooding hour B, but I have something I think you want to know. Also you have a message from Commissioner Gordon.” A new voice spoke through his comms.

“On my way.” He replied.

“No, I think it’s best you go with-”

“I am fully capable of handling it myself just fine. I don’t require father’s assistance.” a third voice snapped. “I’m here with Kent, we’re fine Drake.” And the line was turned off.

“Explain.” Batman demanded.

“So you see…”

-

After the failed attempt at contacting Miguel, you spent a couple of all nighters in advancing your beacon. This time, it would require even more energy but now it won’t cause a potential blackout. But it will notify the bats of your location like last time.

You know you have to be extra fucking careful this time. You might have gotten lucky those days ago in not getting caught, but you know your luck is shit anyways and Batman is one paranoid mother fucker. Him and his wards.

You have to be very cautious in where you go and how you will do this. This new connector is a bit more sturdier than the lightweight one you made before, but this time it also won’t require you to be stuck in one place. Actually, your signal will ping in more than one location. It will bounce off the cell towers and throw a fake location. 

This will certainly tip the scales to your favor in avoidance of detection. Now, you won’t have to rely on your (shit) spider luck! 

All you have to do is to connect it to a phone or computer, and connect that to any service in the area and manually set it off- which you can easily hack. There is only one tiny itty bitty problem. Guessed it yet? No? Well it’s simple, the only problem is- YOU DON’T HAVE A PHONE.

You could theoretically use the library computer but with civilians around you is a big major no. You’re also pretty sure the library closes at like 8 or something.

No worries. You have a solution for this baby problem. Is it build one yourself? Pfft- fuck no. You don’t have time to build a phone and even less for a computer, you still have to tweak your god damn watch for fuck sake. So, you’re just going to buy one.

And with what money- I hear you ask. Simple. You’re going to make some. Time to become Spider-woman again.

Only until you have enough for a decent phone- you said. It’ll be easy- you said. Until you were proven wrong.

You spent two days hunting and defeating crooks, webbing the worst ones up, while the not so bad but are making shitty choices were let go (with the promise of hunting them down should they go back to doing bad stuff). Some advice here and there, pickpocketing criminal’s money, you know, the usual shabang.

Can’t forget you’re avoiding all cameras so as to not give yourself away. Though you almost got caught by the police once, haha. You never stick around long enough to get spotted by the bats or the cops.

Until one night, dressed as a normal civilian, you were coming back from a shelter, turning a corner and you were immediately surrounded by a group of thugs wanting to rob you. You literally have nothing, so the only thing they would be robbing is your backpack with extra clothes and your suit. And maybe like two granola bars.

You tried to charm your way out of this situation because first of all, youre fucking tired, two, you don’t have time for baby shit, and three, you’re about to start tweaking. Of course the five men didn’t take your sarcastic remarks lightly and decided that their knives would do the talking.

So you beat them up. All five of them. 60 seconds was all it took. So to recompense wasting a minute of your time, you loot their cash discreetly.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) a well dressed man popped out of nowhere, getting close to you and you warned him you would break his wrist if he touched you- he still came but didn’t touch you. Holding out a black card he presented it to your face.

“You fight well, kid. If you want to make money fast,real money, call me and go here.”

“Um, I’m not a k-”

“You’ll make hundreds.” He cut you off. Rude. ”And if you impress the boss like you did me, you can make more.”

Spider luck?

Oh well that got your attention. Eyes narrowed. “Fast money, how?”

“Did no one ever teach ya about ‘stranger danger’? It’s a fight club, if you will. A tournament if you’re interested.”

Spider luck.

After pondering it for a quick second, here you are, getting a card with a free invite to a ring, probably filled with big, crazy, and most likely wanted criminals, and you get paid to beat them up? Sign me the fuck up. “I’m very interested.” you nod.

The man gave a crooked smile. “Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow, kid.”

“I’m not-” The man walked away and inside a white limo car. Fuck you.

So you went the next day. Making sure you wore your normal clothes, just sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and your face mask, you called the guy.

Meeting him was uninteresting, conversations were nothing exciting, just asking you your fighting style, can you take on a big guy, and whatnot. 

Upon entering the place (behind a well known bar) you were led to a ring, two fighters going at it. You watched how one was clearly more experienced than the other, while the other guy was battered and bleeding but still fighting. Blood spraying everywhere with every hit until he hit the ground cold.

It certainly is a sight.

It was that very day that you had your very first fight.

Stepping into the ring with no prep, no bandages, no helmet, nothing, this was a raw fight through and through, you were immediately booed and laughed at. Tough crowd.

Of course you were not going against a stereotypical big muscular guy that looks like he could bench press a tank. No, in fact you were against a young military deserter as your first opponent. Scars and all. Across his neck laid an identification tag (also known as dog tag). Christopher Conner.

The man in front of you sneered, laughing at you. “No way they sent me a kid. I will break all your bones. Don’t start crying too soon.” he cooed.

He taunted you and the crowd loved it. You, on the other hand, were pretty bored and unimpressed. 

“I’m not a kid…” you huffed behind your face mask.

What was able to be seen on your face must have told him that because he didn’t like being ignored. 

So he swung, a clear hit to be a knock out. You swerve.

This time he kicked, you parried.

He did not like that. Soon a game ensued. Hit attacking and you either blocking or dodging. You didn’t even need your spider sense, you got this in the bag, honestly this was quite sad. The crowd went from booing you to insulting Christopher.

“What the fuck man?!”

“Hit the kid!”

“My money’s riding on you dickface!”

“Don’t you dare lose motherfucker, or I’ll shoot you!”

It seems their insults were getting to the man. You on the other hand kinda started to feel bad.

“Stand still you fucker!” Christopher growled, throwing punches.

You scoffed, “My aunt throws faster punches than you Chris.” You can almost taste the bloodlust seeping from his pores. “Hey man, it's been three minutes, surely you can end this, right?”

Chris’s jaw clenched in anger. He was about to explode. A voice called out your name.

“Nada! Stop wasting time and finish it kid. Or you won’t get paid.” What? What a scam! You’re trying to entertain yourself too y’know, guess this will be a way to relieve stress.

Facing the military man you didn’t give him a second to process when you blew him a kiss and then a fist made contact with his chin, effectively knocking him out the second his back hit the ring walls. “I’m not a kid.”

The crowd was silent before chaos broke. Half the crowd booed and threatened the fallen man, while the other half started cheering.

With how unsatisfied most people were, you had to fight three more times. Each time, you won, with no scratches on you (you did pretend to get hit at times for realism). Each victory secures you cheers and hype.

By the end of your last fight, it was dark out and you were walked off by the same man that brought you here. “Good job kid. I know you were the right call.”

“I’m not-” A thick envelope was thrown. Catching it, you opened it up to find money, lots of money. “Woah.”

The man in the suit chuckled. “Like it? You can make more the more you win.”

Still entrance by the stack of green you nodded. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Same time.” The man walked off and you stared at the money.

“Booyah baby!”

You bought a phone the next morning.

And so it’s been five days since then. You weren’t in a desperate need for money anymore, so you cut your fights down from five to two a day. You still needed time to continue fixing your beacon. Spider-woman sightings have also significantly decreased the more you noticed the increase in security.

You were not taking any chances.

Walking towards the somewhat empty bar, you greeted the bouncer and headed inside to an ‘employees only’ door to meet the guy in the suit. He did tell you his name, but you call him ‘Suit’ in your head regardless. 

“Hey there Nada,” He hears a sigh from behind the mask. “Listen, kid, you’re one of my best fighters, but I need you to lay low for a while. Here.”

Catching a burner phone you tilt your head for an explanation, pocketing it. “Cops?”

“Worse.” he sighs, slicking his hair back. “Bats.”

Fucking spider luck.

Like a bucket of ice and cold water was dumped on you, blood turning cold. You froze in terror. You should have guessed that a hidden fighting ring would not be kept hidden for long. The criminals that you fought and were downright nasty, you made sure they were caught outside and far away from this location. 

And it was random from a list you composed. Enough to make sure you weren’t a suspect. But fuck now you have to erase your presense here. You’re a nobody, Nada, nothing. Guess it really is time to lay lower than low, like a ghost. “I won’t come back then.” Voice serious and cold.

He laughed, pulling out an envelope from his suit's inner pocket. “S’that so?” Handing it out for you to take, his eyes burn into yours. “Then I’ll just have ta hunt you down, kid.”

Taking the envelope (it felt thicker and heavier than usual) and placing it in your pocket you chuckled, cold, fake, calculating. “Try. I’m good at hiding.” Walking away, hands in pocket, feeling both the envelope and the burner phone, turning your body to avoid bumping into a familiar guy speed walking in. “I’m not a kid…” you mumbled to yourself.

You didn’t bother glancing at the man you dubbed ‘Suit’, real name Jacob Sullivan Jones. It seems it’s time for JSJ to have a run in with the Gotham City Police Department. 

It is truly fortunate that Jacob doesn’t know where you're staying. Although he might not know about the warehouse inside the junkyard, he does know you are not a resident with no permanent home. He had stalked you for a bit after the first meeting (the bouncer was so easy to spot really), believing you’re homeless, alone, and a nobody (someone who nobody would miss or look for). You’re using that (somewhat of a mis)information to your advantage.

Leaving the desolate bar, thoughts consumed by the written list of criminals you drafted and plan to anonymously give it to the GCPD. How you got the other criminals caught was simple, you always used a payphone and gave anonymous tips. That won’t work here. At least not fully. Knowing the corruption, maybe you should hand it to the one of the cops you know isn’t corrupt.

Now, do you hack the police and email it? Print it/fax it and send it? Or hand it directly but as spider-woman? Well for starters, the second option is garbage because if the right person doesn’t see it first, it will just get covered up. Hacking into the GCPD and emailing it directly doesn’t sound like a bad idea, the only issue is, if they decided to forward that information to the bats, you’re fucked because then you know they’ll dig in and somehow find out about you.

It seems like going in as Spider-woman is the best bet, but then again, the bats are real close, too close for comfort. Should you take the risk? But if you don’t turn these criminals in, it will stay in your consciousness of letting innocents down. Guess you have to suck it up and do it then.

“This sucks” you mumbled, deep in thought. 

Suddenly you felt your body freeze. Feeling your spider sense go haywire, you looked up and hard swerved to the side, avoiding bumping into a stranger.

It seemed that your sudden change in direction caught the stranger’s attention and the person next to him, both heads snapped towards you.

Hands out of pocket awkwardly waving in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry!” Taking a look at the one you almost bumped into, he is tall, with black hair and vibrant blue eyes.

Taking note of your embarrassment the stranger chuckles, looking into your eyes, “No worries! Nice reflexes though!”

The stranger’s partner scowled in your direction and you could feel his eyes burning you alive. “Watch where you walk, you buffoon.” Venom.

“Don’t be rude, Dame.”

“Don’t call me that. We don’t have time for this tomfoolery.”

Alrighty then, guess it’s time to fuck off. “Yes, thank you- again, so sorry.” You don’t even spare the other guy a glance, quickly scurrying off. Your spider sense hasn’t shut off and you don’t like where this is going. “Good bye.”

“Hey wait a minute!”

“What are you doing Kent? Our priority is there.”

Not turning back, you quickened to a brisk walk away from this nauseating area. This whole goddamn experience is so nauseating. You just wanted to go home. Was that soooooo much to ask? Regardless, you did not want to know what those strangers wanted, and you were taught ‘stranger danger’ and it certainly applied here.

After a certain distance later, your senses dulled into a small buzz as you turned a corner and entered the public library. Taking your usual empty seat, you let out a deep sigh. This was what you were used to since coming into this world. Since being yoinked from another dimension and plopped in this universe, your senses never really shut off. It was like everything in this world was a danger, and it only spiked when reacting to blood lust, danger of a certain radius, and people who are incredibly strong. 

Recalling that one stranger, who looked too innocent enough for it to be bloodlust, just that their presence caught you so off guard. But your senses screamed at you, and it terrified you to an extent. This is why you can never really relax being here, even when you’re alone in the warehouse, you just feel so out of place, and in danger constantly. It was beginning to eat you up honestly.

You miss your innocent youthful days. God you sound old. But you really do miss having a home to go back to. A home where once you step inside, it’s warm, and two people would always greet you like a warm embrace.

Now it’s cold and desolate, barely anything inside, empty and lonely.

But now, you can’t even go there anymore. Even if it was painful to live in the same home that had more members, then reduced to just you, it was still home. 

You can’t even go home.

Remembering the words Jacob Sullivan Jones spoke to you earlier, you fish out the envelope. Taking note of the weight, it was decided to open it and find more than usual.

Picking up a small zip-lock bag, your eyes widened. It was an ID, an ID and a passport. Just what the fuck was Jacob going to do with giving you this? Why did he make this for you? What were his plans? No, you can’t think about that. This is a blessing for sure, and you’ll take it- but, you have to put Jacob in prison. Now.

This is a gift and you know that with criminals, all gifts are never for free. This is a ‘you owe me’ gift. “Fuck, this sucks.” You just want a moment of peace.

Think, you have to think. Now you have an identification, but, you don’t know if you’re in the system, since once again, incase you forgot, you don’t fucking exist here. Whatever Jacob was thinking, you definitely don’t want a part of it. You’re going to put a stop to this now.

Though, recalling the two strangers earlier, you don’t bother with the rude one of the two, more focused on the one with blue eyes. Something about him just stuck out to you. He looked vaguely familiar.

Okay, let’s take this from the top. You felt a strong sense of precaution, thus causing your spider sense to alert you. Your sense only went away when you were a considerable distance away from those two, so you know it’s about the strangers. Bases covered, perfect. What’s next?

 You only really focused on the one who you almost touched, so let’s continue from there. He is tall, a welldefine body, black hair, and vibrant blue eyes. That’s all you remember seeing now for what you heard. His friend/partner/acquaintance/fellow party member said ‘Kent’, this could be his name or surname but the name ‘Kent’ makes your throat clogged. You only know of another Kent and it’s a superhero.

It couldn’t be…right? 

Turning the computer on, you started typing away, fingers trembling, heart thumping loudly, head spinning, and body sweating. Please, please, please, be wrong. You prayed.

The window search lands on a somewhat recent news. Superman and Superboy save hundreds during bridge collapse! By Lois Lane Kent.

In the photo, on the front page was a scene, both Superman and Superboy. The older one was holding a piece of a bridge while the other younger one was using his heat vision. This was Superman’s son. And you came into contact with him.

You were royally fucking screwed.

Fuck- fuck! No, no nono! 

All the anxiety you tried to lock away came like a tsunami. You were reminded of how small you are in this world. How easy it is to find trouble even without looking. You wanted no part in this world but it seems the gods wanted to fuck you over and over again. 

And, as much as you wanted to curse out the Spot for yeeting you far faaaaaaar from your universe, you only blame yourself for latching onto him and getting lost on the way to his next destination.

God this sucks! You wanted to curl up and cry, but you can’t. You’re a big girl and so, you’ll deal with this fuckery later. After all, your best trait was putting your issues to the side and focusing on the bigger picture. This- meeting Superman’s son can wait. After all, you haven’t run into any bats besides Signal- yes you researched him when you had free time (you only knew of him but not really who he was), so for now, your spider luck has been blessing you thus far.

You need to focus on the bigger picture, getting Jacob and the other criminals caught.

Getting to work, you begin to type away your list that you memorized, the location of the bar, the owner of the bar was still a mystery but the one who runs it is Jacob, schedule of the bouncer shifts, and the names and alias of those who you encountered as well as the situation of misguided teens. You type it all, making sure to keep your real and fake identity out, you did put in your alias Nada, as a picked up street kid. Enough for it to be a ‘misguided’ teen situation but not enough to catch someone’s attention unless they were looking for it.

Now that you know you ran into Clark Kent’s son (a deduction), you know you can’t risk encountering him as spider-woman. Knowing that Superman can (somehow) memorize and identify someone based on their heart beat or whatever, so fuck no are you going to parade as spider-woman any time soon.

You swear to god that you will do everything you can to avoid meeting them in both their civilian personas and alter egos.

Calming yourself, you get ready to hack the GCPD, and leave a message.

‘They know. Scatter.’ 

It hits you. The epiphany of why Jacob had an ID and passport made for you. They were moving locations. Abandoning fort, and taking anyone who they wanted. Basically a trafficking ring for those who weren’t onboard, and a new opportunity for those who they saw potential in. 

Shit, you should have stopped this when Jacob found you, but you didn’t know anything then. Now it could be too late. But Jacob did say to lay low, so they’re mostly biding their time. Probably erasing, hiding, and misplacing real and fake evidence.

They need to get exposed now, ‘strike while the iron is hot’ as the saying goes. 

It seems like it’s time to meet the commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department, James “Jim” Gordon, as Spider-woman. How fun… 

Way to contratic your fucking promise so soon. Well, at least it’s a civilian and not a hero/vigilante. “This fucking sucks.”

-

Damian scoffed when Tim wanted to force his father the Batman into his lead. It’s not that he doesn’t want his father, it’s just this is an undercover sort of situation. He got a lead when he went to interrogate a pathetic military criminal. He can handle this mission on his own.

“No, I think it’s best you go with-”

“I am fully capable of handling it myself just fine. I don’t require father’s assistance.” Damian heard Jon chuckle, most likely overhearing this conversation with his super hearing. What a nuisance.  “I’m here with Kent, we’re fine Drake.” And the line was turned off.

“Well that was something. So, what’s the plan that you didn’t want Lizzie to be involved in?”

“Focus, Jon.” Damian explained their stakeout first, before going to don their costumes. Deep in their conversation, Damian caught sight of one of the suspects speed walking past them. He brings this to Jon’s attention. “It's him, the mercenary Christopher Conner.”

“Okay, so this bar is the place. Let me check real quick.” Using his vision, Jon’s eyebrow furrows. “Next door is styled like a wrestling ring, only two exits. From here and from an office. This is the place.”

“Then we’ll change and apprehend the criminal. Watch and hear what he is saying.” Jon followed Damian’s lead when someone jumped out of his way like he was burning them, causing Damian to also turn his head.

“I’m so sorry!” Despite the mask covering their mouth, their voice of this buffoon sounded androgynous, their clothes didn’t help to differentiate a gender either. But what he can see were this stranger’s eyes, and he can’t look away.

It seems neither can Jon as he chuckles and waves off the encounter. “No worries! Nice reflexes though!” Jon makes it very obvious he’s staring hard.

Just what is it about this total insignificant stranger that caught Damian’s undivided attention? From what he can see, they look normal (can’t really tell with that face mask though), but there is just something that has him unable to take his eyes off of them.

Jon has the same issue, and Damian narrowed his eyes in suspicion and scowls. “Watch where you walk, you buffoon.” 

Jon, without breaking eye contact, scolds Damina. “Don’t be rude, Dame.”

Snapping out of this trance, he snaps back,” Don’t call me that.” That’s right, they are on a mission, no distractions allowed. “We don’t have time for this tomfoolery.”

Jon looks at Damian, as he too, regains his focus, eyes staring into each other as if communicating, he nods. They can come back to this after they finish their assignment. 

“Yes, thank you- again, so sorry. Good bye.” The stranger quickly scurried off.

Caught off guard Jon impulsively extended his arm out to grab their shoulder. “Hey wait a minute!” 

Damian acted faster, grabbing Jon’s arm. “What are you doing Kent? Our priority is there.” Pointing towards the bar with his head. This isn’t good, they’re getting sidetracked.

Jon didn’t turn to look at Damian, no he was still staring at the stranger. “I just wanted to ask…” He trailed off as he strained his ears, focusing on their heartbeat, their breathing patterns, anything he could to commit to memory. “For their name.”

Damian, too, side glanced at the retreating figure, dissecting the way they moved, their tensed shoulders, everything until they were out of sight.

Jon wanted to ask their name. Was that weird? Their situation didn’t require him to ask their name. How would he even go about it, ‘Sorry for almost bumping into you, hey can I ask for your name?’ Yea, no.

“Damian, I-” Jon began before getting caught off.

“I know. We’ll deal with that later,” His eyes narrow, glancing at the bar. “Focus.” But he too was entranced. But he was much better at pushing that to the side, but he knows he won’t be able to hold it off for now. The best he can do is rein in Jon’s attention to the assignment.

Moving to a cafe nearby with a good view of the bar’s entrance, they ordered some drinks. This wasn’t Damians idea but he’ll let Jon have his way for cooperating.

Jon nodded, getting back into focus, using his super hearing to overhear the conversation inside the bar.

His stomach tingles at the thought of asking the stranger for their name.

Hand discreetly on his year Damian spoke, “Drake, look into the time of now and send it over to me.”

“Hey- wait-” Tim was caught off guard, “What’s this about? I thought you didn’t ‘require assistance’ for this.” He teased. 

“I don’t.” He shut the comms off. Now, back to work. “What’s going on Jon?”

“This is our guy. He’s getting assigned to deliver a package. This is serious. He’s upset.”

Damian clicked his tongue. “Tt. Follow.”

Jon tunes into the conversation again.

“The police aren’t the issue. It’s the costumes that have been spotted close. We already lost a couple of our men to the cops.”

“And you don’t think that’s suspicious? We have a traitor!”

“You don’t think I don’t know that, Chris? Ever since Sebastian was caught by the fucking commissioner, the others have been getting caught like flies here in Gotham. He’s spilling, so I need to silence him.” 

“The usual?”

“No, not you this time. We’re leaving so I need you to focus on one more thing.”

“Is it about them, the one you want to recruit?”

“Yes, I want them-” a phone rang interrupting the conversation. “It’s the boss. Dismissed, I’ll send ya the rest later.”

“Understood sir. I’ll deliver the packages tonight.” The mercenary walked off, no longer as upset as earlier.

Jon, processing the information, becomes visibly upset. “They’re recruiting, and based on the conversation, it's the runaway and homeless teens that have been reported by the shelters. This is bigger than just Gotham. I think they’re leaving, moving somewhere else.”

“Let’s follow.” Damian’s attention was caught at the mercenary leaving the bar. “There.”

“The guy he was talking to said he would ‘send the rest later’, I think it will be on his phone.” Jon informed.

Damian absorbed the information. “We’ll follow and catch him red handed.”

“What about ‘the package’?” Jon questioned.

“What about them? I’ll forward the intel to the rest. We focus on this guy. The evidence on his phone is all we need.”

“Dame, I can’t with good conscience leave those vulnerable kids on their own.” Stressed Jon.

“And we’re not. The others will take care of it.” Damian replied. “When we apprehend the mercenary, acquire the intel, we go after this guy while the others detain their accomplices and rescue the runaways. They will all fall tonight, Jon, so focus.”

Jonathan Kent wanted to bite back, but he knows Damian ran this plan at least three times before bringing him along. Damian is just that strategic. And he places his full trust in him, god does this leave him unsatisfied. He knows those kids are trapped somewhere and if taking this mercenary and the manager from the bar out gets them safe faster, then he will do as he is told.

Something just feels out of place, this has been too easy so far. “Alright, he’s heading north.”

Damian nods, slipping away to change into his suit.

As if connected, Damian as well feels like things have been progressing smoothly. And when it comes to crimes committed in Gotham, when things are going good, then something isn’t right.

Ever since the first the GCPD have been arresting some low and decent levels of this new crime syndicate, news of some human trafficking organizations have been slowly getting uncovered as if by overnight. It started around five days ago, low level members were caught, and just two days ago, a higher member was arrested.

Ever since his father the Batman (he tagged along) interrogated him, he spilled like a waterfall. Since they have been cracking down on the case, they know this criminal organization is trying to get on the levels of Black Mask or The Penguin.

The only issue is, this was only exclusive to Gotham, now based on what Jon relay to him, this is just a small base, there are others. He refuses to let this go on any further. Not to his city, or his people. Yet, there is this itch in the back of his head. These captures were by far too easy, and these people aren’t sloppy. No, they had been operating for some time, and yet they were getting caught like moths to a flame due to anonymous tips being called in. Someone out there is deliberately getting these scumbags caught.

And Batman believes it could possibly have a connection to the other pressing issue that’s consuming his thought. There has to be a connection to the quantum disturbance from a little over a week ago. It’s just too coincidental for it not to be. 

Something is happening in Gotham, and he will get to the bottom of this.

-

You know, people say to plan for everything, thus making Batman a force to be reckoned with since he is the master of having contingency plans and backup plans for those backup plans. And yet, here you are, with a plan and life just wants to fuck you over and expects you to just deal with it.

No.

After coming up with spider-woman handing the commissioner Jim Gordon a list of criminals and misguided teens, you just needed to go and change. But here you are, running into a situation if you will. 

You see, after running away from Superman's son, and a printed list folded neatly in your pocket as you head ‘home’, you started to feel the icky sensation of being watched. Years of experience and knowing how not to tip off that you know, you head away from your place of operations and head up north. 

Though despite not giving signs of how utterly fucking tense and anxious you are, you rationalize that it can not be any of the birds because you haven’t done anything suspicious. That, and the fact that your spider sense isn’t screaming at you of danger so for now, that’s calming you down.

On the other hand, you still have no clue who is following you. It was like, thirty minutes since running into the super, and no call from the burner phone. This whole ‘being followed’ is a fucking nuisance, putting a wrench in your plans. 

The only good thing is that, since you are technically surrounded by civilians walking about, they can’t really do anything to you, unless they want to cause panic amongst the innocents. Though, that wouldn’t stop someone from shooting you if they wanted you dead. 

Still, regardless if you are wanted dead (highly unlikely) or alive (for whatever reason) you don’t want to lead innocent civilians into this, so away you go! Informing Jim Gordon can wait (not it can’t), you’ll lose your pursuer and then catch them!

Turning a corner, into alleyways, zig zagging, you hear their footsteps pick up. Persistent.

While running away, you form theories. We crossed out the batsonas, you haven’t done or got caught with anything to be on their radar afterall, it can’t be a random crook because for one, you look poor too, and second, they’re chasing you for a reason. Another idea was maybe it has something to do with Jacob. But that doesn’t make much sense since you just got a burner phone. 

Something just isn’t adding up. 

Your spider sense spiked as you turned down a corner. Despite this, you kept going straight, ready to take on whoever was going to appear in front of you. 

With a very good distance between you and your pursuer you took this chance to discard your mask and sweatshirt (thank god for having a tank top) ontop of a parked motorcycle as you turned another corner, there stood a man near the end of the alleyway, tall and (once again) wellbuilt, with black hair just standing there, phone in hand.

Quickly you jogged towards him (he glanced your way) and grabbed his arm, startling him. “Sorry, please play along!” you whispered and pulled him.

The stranger only had one second to figure out what was happening. In that split second though, he heard a plea for help. The next thing he knew, he had his free hand on the wall above your head while the other one was moved to your waist. Back towards the wall and having his big frame engulf yours, you let his arm go and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him towards your face. 

It's only then that you take in his appearance, handsome from what you can see, and your heart dropped. “I’m being followed,” you muttered, noticing the stranger’s eyes roam your face before settling on your eyes. “I don’t know who they are.”

The man in front of you nodded, kept in place as footsteps hastily turned the corner, running past the both of you. Your body tensed up watching the hooded figure stop at the end of the alleyway. Taking the chance to observe the guy, he pulled out a phone while looking both ways before exiting from your view.

While you were distracted the stranger in front of you pulled back, making your release your hold. He was quiet. “Once again, I’m so sorry! Thank you!” You nervously backed away, in the opposite direction your pursuer went.

He grunted, watching you walk back away. He opened his mouth to speak but the phone in his hand began to ring. He glanced down at the caller before looking back up. 

You were already gone, picking up your sweatshirt and mask, donning them on and running away. Your heart was pounding so loud, it rang in your ear. That was Jason mother fucking Todd. You ran into the Red Hood. What the fuck was he doing in the Narrows?!

Recalling the words Jacob spoke earlier, it echoed through your head. ‘Bats.’ That’s right. The fucking bats are intown, and this was too close for comfort. This sucks balls!

“Focus, focus. Officer Gordon, here I come.” To the junkyard you go.

-

Jason watched the very pretty woman leave him with his thoughts. Getting pulled into caging someone against a back alley wall was not in his cards today, but with Gotham, one always has to expect the unexpected. 

Speaking of the unexpected, he let himself momentarily get distracted recalling the bold stranger from earlier. Something about this woman, rendered him quiet. But at the same time, he took note of just how anxious she was. Tensed body, eyebrows furrowed, worried expression, scared eyes, and over all the way she held onto him while losing her pursuer. He wondered just what kind of trouble found her. It seems crime really doesn’t stop during the daylight.

He committed her face to memory, and will touch upon her situation once he finished his current assignment. 

“You still there?” the voice spoke from his phone.

“Yea, I’m still here. I’m in the Narrows, following the lead.”

“Good, while Damian follows the mercenary, you got the manager. I’m seeing some suspicious moments. Turn on your commlink, Bruce is already moody as he is.”

“When isn’t he like that.” Jason rolled his eyes as he walked back to his bike that he parked further in the alley. Before taking off, he glanced in the direction the stranger went. Her actions and the sound of her voice repeated inside his mind like an echo, burning itself in his memory.

Prev; Next;

I realized everything I wanted for this chapter did not happen. So now it's split into two parts- oops. Side note, this will not be a yandere series, though I do think they get 'possessive' sure, not yandere though. I finally know how I am going to end the Act, the issue is the in between that I struggle with.

Yay, you met Jon and Jason. Next up are Cass, Steph, Dick, and Tim the only ones left.

Web Bound Secret Corner!

Spider-Woman had an eidetic memory.

Spider-Woman does not know about the trafficked kids.

Spider-Woman did not notice Damian.

If Spider-Woman had to choose between saving a life and going home, she'd save the life.

Chapter 4 - Calm Before the Storm

With the beginning of a new day it was like the calm before the storm. You stood up pretty late at night, making your way to a center, luckily they didn’t push for information knowing your situation is a dime a dozen around these parts.

Thank god. Though you did debate giving them your name or even a nickname, you decided against it. After all, you’re not staying here long term, you don’t need to cement your name here. Not as a civilian, or as spider-woman.

You shouldn’t even be here. You don’t belong here.

After having a fresh meal, bless the hearts of the passionate people out there giving out kindness like air, fix yourself up, and return to your makeshift home to decompress.

The cold air nipping at your face cools you off, making you vigilant of your surroundings. Quiet, a bit too quiet. Gotham isn’t known for its silence after all. Pushing the uncomfortable feelings aside, you decide to call it a night.

Making significant progress on your watch became your saving grace. The anchor of your sanity.

So the first thing you did in the morning was quickly get a nice breakfast at a shelter before dedicating your time to building the beacon until nightfall.

The voices in your head were getting restless so you even fixed up a radio you found in the piles of junk just to have a noise buzz in the background.

Days, you spent days inside this safezone you made a shelter out of. Two days to be exact. With how limited and unlimited your resources are, you had no time to waste. You had your own world to get back to, and help Miguel stop the Spot. Every day you spend here is costing you so much already. But you keep going, because you know you’re making progress.

Your routine was mostly some time in the morning, eat and wash up at any center, and go straight back to the junkyard. Snack for lunch and for dinner, back at another center. You make sure to hop around so as to not draw attention or to get familiar with anyone.

You don’t belong. Pretender, faker, liar, fraud, phony, sham.

You know that better than anyone else. You feel like a fraud. This world is like a different color pallet, monochromatic to you. You can’t stain this world with your presence.

You’re getting nauseous just thinking about it.

When taking some semblance of a break, you usually take walks to calm your mind in the morning, where crime is least likely to occur. And so far, you’re right!

Though there were a few (three) instances of muggers, and a drug dealer. Though you did stop (and robbed) them, but not as spider-woman, just as normal (fake) civilian you.

Those were the one’s just in your way or happening to you. Other than that, you have not put on the spider-woman suit to fight crime.

Why would you?

You were about to return home soon, if everything ends well. And it seems like luck is on your side since you have not caught a glimpse or heard any of the batsonas nearby. This also gave you hope.

So, how do you celebrate your near completion of your super secret science project?

Well, with ice-cream and a place of destination for your super secret science project!

So off to the library you go!

Finishing your ice-cream, you take in a breath of the polluted air of Gotham and make your way towards the library.

It was silent, and tranquil. Something you weren’t able to feel for some time. No big baddies escaping Arkham, no terrorist attacks, no bombing threats, no bat encounters, nothing. Just silence, and peace. And you embrace it with everything you have.

Your constant tense body finally felt itself ease as your stress levels went down.

Entering the library and once again greeting the librarian, you made your way back to the same seat you did days ago. With a clear mind, you browse the maps and possible locations for your beacon.

Finding a couple of very good locations, you made sure to memorize the landmarks and streets so you can pick the closest one.

You were giddy! Basically shaking in excitement. Tonight is the night! You just need to tweak a few things and you would be good to go! You would finally have a signal that can ping your location! And if you have time, you will be able to message Miguel through your signal.

With excitement, you quickly left the library and made your way back to the junkyard. Days of your blood sweat and tears, will all finally pay off your desperation to go back home.

Just a couple of adjustments.

Running into the warehouse, you turned on the radio and began to work.

Hours upon hours and you finally managed to get something done. It might have looked like a baby’s school robotics science project but hey! Ya got something at least!

You made something fast, not pretty.

Now, to connect his baby to a power source that won’t reveal your location- god knows you don’t need the bats up on your ass. If you trusted this world more, maybe you would have gone to Batman/Bruce Wayne first. But you know that- one, that idea is garbage at best, that’s how you would most likely get your cute ass locked at Arkham. And two, you know for a fact that Batman doesn’t trust metahumans or something- and you having enhanced powers in your fucking DNA, makes you the paranoid one.

You don’t want to step on anyone’s toes, especially the Batman’s. It just boils down to, you don’t trust him or his brood of sidekicks. That and the fact that if you could do it by yourself then you will.

And you’re already doing it. Ha! Take that universe!

This was a job for spider-woman. Changing into your suit, you hurriedly carried your mini beacon, and soared through buildings to find an appropriate source of electricity. You know you don’t have the right technology (you’re using scraps for fuck sake) to create an effective and accurate signal, but with this little baby, you should be able to send out a general area ping.

This way, for anyone who is looking for you (you fucking hope so) they can lock into a general area of the multiverse.

You are holding onto hope you get discovered soon.

Landing on top of a random construction site, you made quick work setting your things up. Connecting the cable to your beacon, and one towards your watch, you use the last cable and walk over a power generator.

This is it, this is where you’ll finally finally have a semblance of a chance to leave this universe. You just want to go home. You don’t exist here, you checked when scrolling through the web.

Not someone who looks like you- or a spider-woman either. You don’t belong here, and you never had the intention to play pretend either. This world isn’t your problem and you aren’t needed. So, now you’ll ping your location and go home.

Your very own emergency distress signal.

You plug your cable in the generator and it causes a power surge.

You pray to be discovered.

-

“B! It’s happening again!” Oracle’s alarmed voice caused Batman to head out immediately. “But this time it’s different!”

“Same place?” Hopping into his batmobile he sped off. “Different how?”

“No, this time it’s in the Narrows. A construction site twenty minutes from your location. It’s pinging like crazy!” Oracle couldn’t understand what was happening.

It had been a regular Thursday night until she got a ping of another disturbance. Not quite the ‘quantum disturbance’ like a few days ago, but then it was the flickering power surge. She was quick this time, getting an accurate location and with Batman on the way, they’ll find out what this is.

“It’s definitely the same as a few days ago, but not big enough, not strong enough. Causing a power surge!”

The surge only lasted ten seconds. Ten seconds too long. Then silence and all the light and energy came flickering back in that area.

“Robin’s close, he’s on his way B.” As if nothing had happened. Oracle wasted no time in finding cameras to see the situation. But the ripple effect caused security cameras to shut down for the duration of the surge. “Shit. Cameras are down- can’t find anyone in or out.”

“Hm.” Batman grunted. This was a grunt of annoyance.

Upon arriving on the scene, Batman made his way through the partially completed construction site. There stood only one other figure, and it was Robin.

“There was no sign of the perpetrator when I got here.” He spoke, his fixed glare at the spot where the ping was the strongest. “I surveyed the surroundings, nothing.” Frustration was clear in his voice and clenched teeth.

This confirms what Oracle said through the comms.

Batman sighed. Whatever was here, left just as quickly. This means that whatever caused a quantum disturbance days ago, is still here. In his city. In Gotham. And when he finds them, he’ll make sure to squeeze out every bit of information they possess.

He won’t take any chances of possible alien life force coming and going as they please.

“We’re not completely at a loss.” His words caught Robin’s attention, so he continued. “That means whoever did this is still here. It wasn’t as big as the other one, which means the recreation was not enough. Whoever or whatever it is, is still here.”

Robin processed the information and affirmed. “Understood. Means they will try again. And soon.” Robin makes sure to ping this area as a priority zone.

Batman nodded. He will find whoever is behind this. No matter the costs.

Nothing will escape their watch.

-

“No! No no nonono!”

Just as you plugged in the cable to the generator a huge surge of power came through, quickly to find a connection.

Your watch sprang to life, a bright screen greeted you and quickly you sprung to action. Seeing the universe number glitch but readable.

Finding a smidgen of a connection, you started calling Miguel; it couldn't even connect.

You wanted to sob.

“Miguel! Miguel please please see this! Please please please!” Then the connection went out and the watch turned black.

You felt like your whole world was crashing down on you.

You tried, you really did try! You did your best. You have always done your best. But in the end, it seems that no matter how hard you fought or tried to fight, defend, and protect, it just was never enough. But you lost waaaaay too much to give up. Especially now.

You’ll get discovered soon. And not by the ones you want to meet. “Fuck!”

You couldn’t let this get to you. They might be coming. Quickly unplugging the cables you grab the beacon and swing away, using the night as your cover to make a grand escape.

After all, you still were able to at least find a connection, just not a strong one. Try again next time.

A fire grew inside you. That’s right, you’ll just try again, and this time make something better. As long as you weren’t caught you can still make something better. “Can’t give up.” You spoke through your tears. You’ll fix this, you have too. It’s just you against the world.

Just like Miguel, you’ll throw yourself into fixing things. Making it better.

The obsession of trying to make things right by any means necessary, broken and unbroken. Take things apart and build it back together again, same and before, or better, greater even.

A Tinkerer if you will. Anything to be useful, needed, wanted. And in order for you to feel that, you’ll build an even stronger signal. This time, you’ll make your watch better.

You know Hobie Brown knows how to build his own watch. You both do. Discussed it when Hobie casually said he missed your presence at times. So you’ll just upgrade yours.

Building a better beacon and upgrading your watch requires more material. So you’ll plan for the days ahead. You will learn from this failure. You have to. You need to.

Your greatest failures were failing to save Ben, protect May, and defend Peter, those you cared for the most. You can’t afford to fail this. You will make it back. It just seems that you’ll be stuck here just a tad bit longer.

“That’s okay… everything will be okay.” Your erratic mind becomes calm again.

You learned to take responsibility for your actions and mistakes, learned to accept the consequences and help others face their own, and finally to heal and move forwards, to hope. And right now, you’re hoping for a better outcome soon.

“I can do this.” Landing on the warehouse you climbed through a window, throwing your mask to the side, landing on your workbench. “I can do better.”

You were known as a dangerous spider. You have years of experience, years of trials and tribulations, you’re smart, curious, and compassionate. But you’re hungry, always hungry to learn more, to consume knowledge. You use what you learn and become better than yesterday.

You’re a dangerous spider because you always come out of every experience learning more, learning to be better as you adapt, plan and overcome every obstacle in your way.

You’re a dangerous spider, because you push yourself to the brink it’s almost madness. Your obsession of not being weak, helpless, and vulnerable forced your body to adapt at a rapid pace. It terrified your enemies and comrades. And how easily you can hide that obsession is also terrifying.

It’s the calm before the storm.

And right now, you need to plan better. You’ll leave the Narrows, go somewhere else. Possibly Park Row? No. That’s the Red Hoods territory. Maybe somewhere less chaotic. Oh! East End sounds perfect! It’s one of the places Batman doesn’t really interfere with.

Perfect.

You’ll only leave once you finish your beacons. Because you know the bats will come here, and most certainly discover that someone has been here building no matter how you try to cover up your doings.

Batman is just that good. You just won’t take any chances.

-

In a different universe far faaaaaaar away. Miguel discovered a heartbreaking partially audible voice recording of his missing protégé.

Location unknown. Coordinates unknown. Universe unknown.

You were lost, and he doesn’t know how to find you.

Prev; Next;

I know it feels like I'm rushing and to that- fair probably. I also really want to get into the bat family and stuff. Their actual civilian personas i mean. Not their vigilante alter ego. You are going to meet them next chapter for sure, I just need to find a way to up the states for you. Make you feel dread and anxious.

Chapter 3 - Weak and Alone

The hairs on your body stood up for a good while before you could relax again. You didn’t know meeting the yellow bat would be this fucking terrifying. Like, c’mon man! You fought many weird, crazy, dangerous, and scary things in your life as a hero, why was coming into contact with one of this world’s heroes that terrifying?

And besides this guy was just- is just a human, not a mutated creature or even an alien, just a regular human like you. But something about him just- put you off.

Crime in the mornings are so rare, how bad was your luck for it to happen when you were there? Wrong place and time, maybe? Or your luck is just shit and that’s that.

You don’t even question how this guy found you-er the robber. Even if he was in the area, Oracle or the other Robin must have been on surveillance duty or something. If you recall only two of Batman’s wards are mostly the “man in the chair” type. Oracle because of what happened to her with the Joker and one of the Robins because he’s one of the smartest ones. Or something like that.

Regardless, you’re okay now. That’s all that matters.

Hands in your pocket you remembered you looted the guy earlier. Taking out  some cash you realized this guy had money. He had three-hundred, so why try to rob a convenience store? Well, whatever, not your problem.

You’ve become really good at pushing your problems to the back of your head.

What is now your problem is finding a library. Lifting your mask back on your face you continue to march forward, regardless of direction. Picking a random bar from your snack bag, you begin to eat it under your mask to calm your stomach so you can think.

“Okay, cheap food and non perishables are what I will live off of.” You don’t plan to stay in this wack world for long, so saving money is key. “Next, find layouts, maps, anything to get a semblance of where I am and what I can do. I need information, and lots of it. Third, I need a generator to power my gizmo. Finally, supplies to build a GHM. ‘Go-Home’ machine.”

So far things are looking very bleak but that's okay. No worries. Um, on the bright side, you haven’t glitched at all, so your gizmo watch isn’t totally off the record. As long as it’s still connected and alive, you’re sure Miguel can find your signal.

You did just suddenly disappear during a fight that was basically your mission that Miguel sent you on. That means Miguel already knows of your unfortunate case and should most likely be looking for you, right? 

He wouldn’t abandon you, right? He’s the one that recruited you after all! He came to you. He knows of your existence and predicament. You have somewhat of a mentor and student relationship for fucks sake! He wouldn’t leave you stranded in favor of his issues with Miles…right?

You’re not getting forgotten… right?

You matter…right?

No! You can’t think like this! You also can’t put all your spiders in one web. You need more options, alternatives. Whether Miguel is looking for you or not (you choose to believe he is), you need to find a way to either go home or get in touch with him.

You gotta do things your own way.

You’re smart, resourceful, use your brain! 

You’re good at improving, inventing, and repairing- a tinker if you will. Taking things apart, fixing what’s broken, or building things. That’s one of your strong suits- it’s time to use that big beautiful brain of yours to find out what’s wrong with this watch.

So in order to do that, you need materials. So how would a broke but smart pretty woman such as yourself find materials that won’t catch the eyes of the batsonas? Simple. One man’s garbage is another man’s treasure.

That’s right baby!

A junkyard. 

Now to find a junkyard, you need a map. So to a library you go!

With newfound determination and energy, forgoing any unsavory thoughts and focusing on buildings and landmarks.

Getting pretty far into the city you managed to find a public library and mentally fell to your knees begging to all the gods to not run into any and all of the bat family here.

So you pass through the automatic doors and immediately feel relaxed. Honestly being in this world makes it hard for you to even feel safe when everything and everyone could be a potential danger to you.

Not to mention how quickly and easily some of the criminals can escape. You reeeeeally don’t want to face the villains of this world. You’d rather your own Vulture than their Scarecrow or whatever. 

Giving the librarian an award winning (and non suspicious) smile, you made your way over to the row of computers. Sitting further away from the camera, you sit down and stare at the dull desktop.

“Okay, good, I’m here, no bats in sight, now what?” Feeling slightly overwhelmed you took a deep breath and then checked the date and location. 

Reading the latest news was beneficial, now you know just who is in Arkham and who’s free at the moment. Thank the gods that the Joker is locked away. You really aren’t ready to face the big bad baddies of this world. 

Soaking in as much information as possible, for hours you learned the latest news, Batman sent the some criminals to Arkham, Bruce Wayne hosting a charity event in a couple of months, Dick Grayson is coming to Gotham (why?), Lex Luther’s recent scandal, Superman saves the earth (again), Damian Wayne’s anticipated art museum opening. Wow, nothing interesting. 

Nearing four hours just sitting there, you decide to call it quits and pull up maps one last time. Double checking your information you make sure that everything was like you never touched it and thensome. 

Waving good-bye to the librarian you headed off to the large junkyard you found. The walk was pleasant and free of crime. Fuck you daylight robber. Though you know it isn’t true, crime happens everywhere and anytime, just some are quieter than others. 

Arriving at the junkyard, you realized just how ginormous it is. Walking around you spot an abandoned warehouse, where equipment usually is stored and you jump with glee. Knowing there are no working cameras around here, you rest easy knowing you can just go ham on tinkering to your heart's desire.

Setting your bags down, you look around. There are tools that were left behind and you were ready to kneel and thank the gods. Looking at the equipment and workbench, you’re thoroughly pleased with what you have to work with. Shedding your hoodie, you step outside and into your paradise.

Finding many useful and discarded materials you quickly get to work in picking apart metals and material. Dragging them inside the spacious warehouse you go back and forth picking and dragging materials.

And the day flew by, just like that. It’s already late afternoon and you looked over your work.

You’ve made great progress with gathering materials. Having a mountain inside the warehouse to work with and on the workbench there was already something in the making. You’re building what is essentially a charger and beacon for your web watch. 

This will give out a signal for Miguel to latch onto and discover your location. The only issue is if Miguel is looking for you, this will help greatly. The other issue is, you need energy, and lots of it. Sunlight here would suck with how gloomy Gotham can be.

So direct sunlight can’t be its only source. 

Regardless you’ll fix and create the panels anyways. For now, since it’s late, you’ll take a break and fix this place up. 

Sike, you just make a web hammock on the ceiling and web your bags to the wall next to you. After discovering the owner of the motel tried to get inside your room (that you fucking paid for) while you managed to finally catch some Zzz’s, it was decided to just leave.

Though you still need food and a place to do your necessities. Maybe you just have to suck it up and go through the centers here.

Sighing in the silence, your mind began to spiral.

The warmth and comfort of uncle Ben as he took care of you when you had nightmares, the gentle embrace of aunt May when you had succumbed to fevers, and the loving presence of Peter Parker when you were at the brink of it all.

You miss them, god you fucking miss them! You hadn’t felt those things in years, not after closing yourself from everyone when you lost them. Sure you had the mentor and student relationship with Miguel, but you never let yourself get close.

Not with Miles and the others, because you felt like a protector, a role model, someone who can’t show weakness.

Not with the hundreds of other Peter Parker’s either. Those Peter’s are just as smart, charming, dorky, and special as your Peter Parker. But they aren’t your Peter Parker. And they never will. Your Peter was even more special, more smart, more charming, more dorky, more charismatic, more everything! He was everything! And then… he left.

No, he didn’t leave.

You just couldn’t save him. You must not have been enough for him. You had seen the signs! You could have done something! But you didn’t. You got complacent, cowardly. Afraid to lose what you have. 

Uncle Ben’s death taught you to treasure what you have before it’s taken away. Aunt May’s death taught you to keep things as they are, so they don’t break. You vowed to never make those mistakes again.

So when you met Peter Parker, you made sure he knew just how much he meant to you. How special he was, and how important he is to you. You weren’t blind, you noticed the painted smiles he wore at times. How life seemed to be dragging him down. But you were too afraid, too complacent. You didn’t want to tip the scales and possibly break something too fragile. You never pushed, or prodded because you knew if someone did that to you, you’d leave.

But the most important thing was that Peter isn’t you. Peter was strong, faaaar stronger than you, he isn’t glass. He held on for soooo long, and still tried to hide his pain from you. But you knew. You also knew that Peter knew that you knew. You just never pushed.

Peter Parker’s death demonstrated just how powerless you are. How much of a coward and paranoid you became. If you just talked to him, maybe he would still be alive. 

With you…

Maybe, you would have accepted his confession once you mustered up the courage to take a leap and accept his feelings for you.

Just maybe.

But, there is no maybe anymore. There will never be Peter Parker and You. Because there hasn’t been another you so far. 

And you live with that guilt and hatred towards yourself. But if Peter’s death taught you anything else, it’s to keep moving.

You have to keep going, for Peter’s sake. And for your sanity.

Because the more time you spend in this universe and not in your own, where you can visit Ben, May, and Peter’s graves, you are slipping ever so slightly.

You’re losing your fucking mind.

You just want to go home.

-

“Nothing Bruce. It’s only been a day but so far nothing.” Catwoman’s sharp voice cut through the silence.

Batman doesn’t reply in acknowledgement but nods and leaves the rooftop, leaving Catwoman peeved.

“I told you I’d keep looking, maybe it was nothing. You’re just too paranoid.” She huffed before going her separate way.

Batman felt his eyebrow twitch. First, this disturbance that apparently leads to nothing (that’s not true, he can feel it.) Then it’s news about a freak who caught two crooks beating a civilian. At first he didn’t pay it any mind until they kept spouting about a person in a suit shooting a sticky substance.

Gordon couldn’t get a sample because of how sticky the substance was and only for it to dissolve thirty minutes later. Jim Gordon also couldn’t add anything to this person’s claim because it was night and dark and he could only see the silhouette of the person.

But then again, that’s just two things that were off. A coincidence sure, but he doesn’t really believe in coincidences. Not in Gotham.

Placing his hand on his earpiece he spoke, “Anything?”

“Nothing to note. Maybe she’s right. What if this shift was just a coincidence?” Oracle replied.

“Not likely,” He heard her huff, and he sighed. “But not impossible either.”

Oracle would take that over a paranoid Batman any day. It’s the closest thing to an agreement then she will ever get. “I’ve been scanning the whole day but so far, nothing. Not even something similar.” She mumbled to herself.

Just as she takes a small break and sips on water, she hears footsteps approaching.

“How can I help you, Duke?”

“Hey, sorry to bother you if you're busy. Looks like you could use a break.” He replied.

“Honestly, yes. With the whole issue near the East End, I need it.” Barbara swirled her chair around to face Duke.

Duke rubbed his neck in apprehension. “Did you-”

“Find anything?” Oracle finishes for him. He nods. “No. Scanned her face and everything but nothing came up. Then I checked beyond, outside of Gotham. Truly nothing. She’s a ghost.”

“Or, maybe a survivor?” Duke proposed.

“Possibly. Many trafficked survivors and escapees have made it to Gotham.” Barbara entertained the idea.

“Do you know where,” after a hesitant pause he let his hand fall to his side, a slight glint in his eyes that went unnoticed. “She is staying?”

“She was staying at a motel near Park Row. She hasn’t returned since.” This was cause for alarm for Duke but he kept it in.

“Where-” He tried.

“Relax Duke. You know most would call this- what’s the word, ah, stalking.” Barbara teased, causing Duke to flush slightly.

“You’re right. I just…” He straightened up before he chuckled at his memory of you. “I never got her name.”

“That’s cause she never threw it. Not even the guy from the store got it.”

“Alright, thanks though.” Duke nodded and headed out.

Barbara bid him well and returned to the screen. Wondering how you, a random civilian, caught Duke’s attention. But then again, after scanning your face on the screen she too couldn’t help but find herself unable to look away. 

And yes, you could say that you’re pretty, she can see that, but there is just something about you that makes you different and she can’t figure out why. Just what about you has her curious. But then again you are a civilian and she won’t mix personal interest with work. 

Despite parading that Bruce was being paranoid about the disturbance in the air. It was strong enough to send an alert to her, and it could be something dangerous. But it happened so fast that you could blind and you would miss it.

For now, the thought of the pretty civilian will be put on the back burner, but not forgotten. She’ll get to you when she solves this stupid case in front of her. That and the mysterious spider person that three people (not including her dad) apparently saw.

“Coincidence? Probably not.” typing the keyboard she clicks enter and watches the monitor scan Gotham for the same frequency as the disturbance to see if she can put up anything, even a trace.

Nothing.

Clicking enter, she watches the screen again.

Prev; Next;

I realized have like ZERO outline for a fleshed out story sucks balls. Well, let's see where this goes together. I ordered some Signal/Duke comics and I am excited to see them arrive. Anyways, which new bat person do you think you'll meet next? There is only one right answer and it isn't Duke.

Chapter 2 - Spider Luck

Morning came quickly despite the shitty sleep you received that night. The constant tossing and turning, the constant fear and anxiety of getting caught or broken into, really you couldn’t catch a break. 

Despite that, you did get some sleep, even if the sum total was like three hours. Still, it’s not like the nightmares would have let you sleep regardless. All your failures would consume your thoughts and drown you, reminding you of your losses. 

Sure you moved on, but it’s not like you had forgotten. Uncle Ben’s wisdom, Aunt May’s lessons, and Peter Parker’s kindness. You vowed to honor and cherish those memories, but here you are, in another fucking world, with a high possibility of you breaking some laws just to get out.

Desperate people do crazy shit, and you aren’t that sane to begin with.

Luckily this motel has a shower and you plan to use it. Making sure to clean yourself with what you have (unfortunate) and pick up the necessities that you desperately need. 

Taking your time (since you paid for it) you get yourself ready, making sure your mask, gloves and (stolen) wallet are secured inside the hoodie’s pockets. Suite nice and tucked underneath the turtleneck and leggings. First order of business is shoes. Maybe that should have been your first mission yesterday- oops. 

You definitely should have followed the young spiderlings example and fight crime with shoes. Well if you ever meet them again, you will…

When you meet them again. You will. You have to. No matter the cost.

And then your stomach rumbled. “Great! Time for cheap food. Wonder if that knockoff Wack-Donld place is open. 

Oh that’s a nice plan. But you forgot one thing, genius. Where is it? How would you know where it is? You can’t even map it since you also don’t have a phone. 

About to unlock the door, you realized something. It already was unlocked… “Hmm…” Well, it was good that you webbed the door then.

“Fuck.” Leaving the motel keys at the front, you skedaddled your way back into the streets, looking for either a bodega or a shoe store. In order to keep yourself somewhat sane, you start softly humming music you recall Miles shared with you.

After some time of walking around aimlessly (you avoided asking others for directions, gods know gothamites unwritten rule is to mind your fucking business), you found a thrift store.

Guess what you realized while browsing for shoes. If you buy and fight crime with shoes, and (as of right now) are your only pair, you will get found out. So crocs it is!

Black ones, because white gets dirty too damn easily.

Finding your size and other clothing necessities, face-mask, a backpack and a portable sewing kit, you were good to go and all for a cheap price! God you love thrift stores. You used to go to as many and as often as you could with Peter. Ya had a bad spending habit and Peter certainly never discouraged you. He was your terrible financial buddy.

Not now! You can’t reminisce right now, not until you found a way home. Asking the cashier for directions while also subtly declining their phone number (your excuse is that your phone got stolen) you made it to a corner store. Hurray!

Making sure to stock up on snacks, since- let’s be real, this will be your food source for a while, (no income, remember, silly) you stand in line to pay before your spider sense goes off.

Behind you. There’s a man, hoodie on, looking down, covering their face, hands buried inside their pockets. You’re betting it’s either a gun or a knife. 

“Don’t move or I’ll shoot.” Oh, it’s a gun. How original.

The cashier seemed to clock in to what is occurring and subtly reaches under his counter. Not subtle enough because the man behind you yelled, pulling out his gun and pointing at the back of your head.

What the fuck spider luck.

You quickly assess your surroundings, making note that there is only one exit, two normal people not including you but including the gunman, and the room feels tight and too small to do anything.

Conclusion? You’re fucked. 

“I said don’t move, hands up! Give me the money, all of it!” From the corner of your eyes you can see just how fidgety this man was. Probably trigger happy if you do something stupid.

“He-hey man, I don’t got much in here.” The cashier had his hands in the air, trembling and freaking out. 

“I don’t care, give me the money! Yours too, bitch. Now!”

How rude. “Alright, I’m going to get my wallet. Don’t shoot.” You made slow movements of reaching into your pocket for the wallet.

“Hurry up! Both of you!” The thug yelled impatiently. You could practically feel how sweaty and anxious this guy is.

You watched the employee open up the cashier and take the money out. The assailant motioned for you to place your wallet on the counter, which you do and step to the side, getting out of his way. Just as he goes to grab the money you quickly grab the wrist with the gun and twist it, making sure he dropped it before smashing his head onto said counter, money flying everywhere. 

Both you and the cashier watched the assailant fall to the ground, nose bleeding and out cold. “Um,” The cashier looked at you, spooked. “I panicked.”

Hey look at that, no shots fired baby! Ya still got it! You are a pro-fess-io-nal~!

“Hey man, no-um no sweat. You saved me.” He replies with a tremble in his voice.

“Cool, cool, I also didn’t want to get shot. How much for my stuff?” You asked, picking up the money on the floor, handing it back while placing your snacks on the counter..

“What stuff? I see nothing. Just go. I already called the cops.” Oh, so he wasn’t reaching for a gun (corner stores usually have one under the counters) but a buzzer or something? Nice, cool, great.

“Thanks buddy!” Hey man, free food is a blessing. Picking up your wallet and bag of snacks, you step over the knocked out guy, (pick pocketing any cash he had on him,) picking up the gun with your sweater sleeve and placing it at the counter. “Here, for the cops.”

“Thanks so much, again for everything. Hey, can I get a name? For the next time you come and…buy stuff.” He shot his shot.

“I appreciate it man, but I don’t give out my name like that. You know?”

And he missed.

“Ye-yeah…” He looked like a kicked puppy.

Just as you stepped out you heard the sound of a motorcycle nearby and your senses went off again.

“Stop right there, not another step.” A third party voice joins the fray.

What the fuck, spider luck?!

Instantly you recognize the vigilante in front of you but regardless you are not taking any chances today. 

Taking a step back inside the store, making sure to close the door on the guy. “Um, hey not to alarm you or anything but there is a guy with a mask standing outside.” Bringing your hands up (again) you back away from the entrance, snack bag swinging around with your movements. 

The employee nods pulled out the pistol from the counter (what the fuck, why would you grab that with your fingers my dude?) and aimed.

Well at least he doesn’t hold grudges for being rejected.

The door swung open and there stood a masked vigilante, but a familiar bat symbol on his chest caught the employee’s attention.

“Oh thank god it’s not another one.” Putting the pistol again he sighed in relief.

“Ah!” The yellow vigilante turned his focus onto you, (who backed up so much you tripped over the k.o.ed dude, fucking embarrassing) hands still in the air and snacks littering the floor.

Some professional you are. Fuck you spider luck.

“I didn’t steal anything, I swear.” God, you're embarrassed and stressed.

The vigilante ponders for a few seconds, taking in the scenario, glancing at the employee who nods and turns his attention back. “Sorry about that. Here.” He extends a hand out towards you and to not be suspicious you hesitantly take it, your body tenses on instinct, pulling away immediately.

“Thank you.” you mumbled silently cringing at your embarrassment over spilled snacks.

“What happened?” He still faced you but you knew that question was for the other party member. And even if it was for you, you’re silent.

“That dude tried to rob us and they knocked him out. Oh,” The cashier looked at his hands. “This is his.” And placed the pistol on the counter.

This looks like the perfect time to poof away so you do. Right after you pick up your snacks. Signal sees this and silently aids you. “You both aren’t hurt, right? Need medical assistance?”

No you fucking don’t.

Holding out the bag as Signal placed the last snack in you as you shook your head. “I’m a-okay. Thank you though.” And you walk out for the second time. You could still feel his eyes on you until the door closes.

And guess who shows up.

The men in blue.

“Hold it right there.” Bro, you just want to be left alone, is that so much to ask? This time instead of bringing your hands up (for a third time), you instead clutch your bag to your chest, mask down and point inside, making sure your voice matches your facial expression.

“In there, he stopped him there.” meek, timid, nervous.

It seems to have worked as the pair of policemen entered the store and you didn’t think twice and booked it (in a non suspicious manner- if you run, they might chase). Passing by a yellow motorcycle you take a glance back and see the vigilante stepping outside the store, looking somewhat bothered in the presence of the authorities. 

Sucks to suck, bud, you know that feeling very well, not your problem anymore.

As if feeling your eyes on him he turns his face towards you, your eyes meeting a mask. Oh fuck! You felt your hair stand up. Holding his gaze for a few seconds before turning away (any other abrupt movement would definitely make you look suspicious) you continue on your way.

Forcing yourself to not tense up and fight the urge to shiver at his cold gaze you round the corner and you feel somewhat safer again. But it’s a false sense of security, because you know you’re slowly losing your mind.

Hopefully you won’t run into him or any of the other bats.

-

Duke Thomas was patrolling his territory, the Narrows, when he got a notification.

“Signal, there’s a robbing occurring five blocks from your location. The corner store Convenience. Know it?” Oracle’s voice spoke through the comms.

“I know my way. I’m checking it out now.”

“Checking the cameras- there are only three people inside. The assailant, a civilian, and an employee.”

“Got it-”

“Oh wait. Huh, well look at that.” Disbelief could be heard through the comms.

“What is it?” Did things escalate too fast?

“The civi knocked the guy out. Basically one move.” Color Oracle impressed.

“I’m here, anything else I should know about?”

“I’m scanning what I can see of their face, but I’m coming up blank. I’ll let you know if anything.”

Duke didn’t reply, instead as he pulled up he saw someone coming out of the store. “Stop right there, not another step.”

He watched the figure (gender unidentifiable with the oversized hoodie) freeze before making eye contact with him-er his visor. Despite the hood being down, he could not see their face completely with their mask, only their eyes and hair. Just a normal civilian, who apparently knocked out a guy with a gun.

Then silence and no movement.

Until the civilian backed away, closing the store door.

Stunned for a moment, Duke could hear Oracles snort through the comms. “Think they’re scared?”

“From what, me? They took down a guy with a guy and I scared them?” 

“Careful, gun pointed straight at you inside.” warned Oracle.

He moves towards the front door, pushing it open to see the civilian from earlier backing away still, hands up before turning his attention to the employee with a gun. “Oh thank god it’s not another one.”

“Ah!” A yelp caught his attention and it seems the civi tripped on the knocked out guy he just noticed. They immediately spoke, catching his eyes,“I didn’t steal anything, I swear.” 

Duke holds in a snort before glancing at the employee who nods in confirmation before he focuses on the fallen person. He calmly walks towards them, taking note of their discomfort and reaches his hand out. “Sorry about that. Here.” 

Despite his covered eyes somewhat obscuring his vision, he couldn’t will them away from this stranger’s visible face. 

Duke watched their hesitation but placed their hands in his, and he swore he felt a spark that sent shivers down his spine. How curious. He pulled them up, noting just how light they felt in his hold.

“Thank you.” Their voice was soft, but audible.

They quickly pulled their hand away, the warmth gone. His hand held its place for a couple of seconds before he let it fall to his side. “What happened?” He still faced the civilian, both unmoving. He already knew what occurred, Oracle told him everything, but he wanted to hear them talk more.

Only the employee replied. He took note of their lack of eye contact. 

“That dude tried to rob us and they knocked him out. Oh,” Duke glanced as the cashier placed the gun on the counter. He’ll leave that for the cops to pick up if they don’t get here before he leaves. “This is his.”

His attention is once again stolen as the civilian in front of him kneels to pick up their half empty bag. Standing above them, he notes the tips of their ears are red, how cute.

“You good there, romeo? You kinda have a staring problem.” Oracle’s voice snapped him out of his trance.

Duke cleared his mind (he hoped he didn’t look weird or creepy, yikes) before leaning down as well and helped pick up the tossed chip bags.

Though he did take his time, just to squeeze a bit more time with this civilian that he has yet to identify. “You both aren’t hurt, right? Need medical assistance?” He mostly directed this question to them than the cashier behind him. He wonders if Oracle figured out this civilian's name. 

Placing the last snack inside the plastic bag he watches them straighten up before shaking their head. “I’m a-okay. Thank you though.” His eyes couldn’t seem to leave their figure as he watched them walk out the door.

“Cops outside, Signal.” Oracle once again breaks his attention. 

“Got it.” Duke turns his attention to the guy on the floor, sitting him up as two officers enter the store. One takes the guy off his hands while the other questions the employee, taking the gun.

A slight restless feeling took over him and he made his way outside, the one carrying the passed out guy following. Duke quickly takes notice of eyes watching him and he turns to see the complete unmasked civilian from earlier. 

This time, he really felt like he had a staring problem. He drinks up their appearance like water. Their nose, lips, face shape, everything. He didn’t know how to explain it, but he really couldn’t look away this time. Everything around him suddenly felt silent. He felt his body shiver.

Such a pretty face, this civilian caught his breath regardless. He’s not one to lose himself by a pretty face but it seems this one was an exception. He felt mesmerized, entranced, and tongue-tied. Something about this person had a strong lock on him, and he couldn’t help but feel somewhat excited then put off. It felt like a very tight leash, and he doesn’t mind one bit.

Three seconds. Ever since he caught their gaze, they made eye-contact (despite him wearing a mask) before she looked away and left, turning the corner. (Their features look pretty feminine so he’s going with her). 

“Anything Oracle?” He mumbled, still a bit lost.

“No dice. How strange…”

Bummer. He mounts his ride and drives off to finish the rest of his patrol. He’s tempted to drive in the direction the civilian went to, but he wills himself to not do that. God it’s like he’s down bad. Really bad.

Hopefully he gets to see you soon, it seems you’re staying in the Narrows which increases his chances to see you. As much as he curses himself internally, he hopes he can save you next time something dangerous happens again.

Something formed in the pit of his stomach, and he doesn’t know if it’s desire or obsession.

Regardless, he embraces this feeling whole heartedly.

Prev; Next;

I struggled really hard, like REALLY hard. Duke is new to me (i only learned of him because of the webtoon) Now I'm reading issues he has been in and I don't know his character well but there is a SEVERE lack of Duke fics and I made it everyone's problem. So now he's down bad.

Chapter 1 - Home Sick

Okay, let’s start this from the top. Once upon a time and all that shit.

You had somehow, some way, ended up stranded in another universe when you were going toe-to-toe with the Spot that (unfortunately) Mile’s apparently created (unintentionally). Got it? Good.

Now the question is how you got stranded in another universe while fighting the Spot is another shebang that you do not know, and frankly, not your top priority as of right now.

Your mission is finding a way to power your web-watch (no offense but the gizmo name sucks), and either use it to find Miguel, the spider-society, or your very own earth. You honestly weren’t choosy on which option you land, as long as you safely made it out alive and unscathed. 

Speaking of unscathed, which in fact you are not, you quietly swung across many buildings, in the shadows, making sure you were hard to spot. Your dark spider suit being perfect for night patrol is a blessing for the camouflage it provides you in this god forsaken gloomy city.

Now, to get back on track, it took you an embarrassing amount of time to process that you have basically been thrown into a world where in your universe is all but fiction. 

Have you kept up with the comics?

No, of course not. After Aunt May’s passing, you honestly gave up everything and just solely dedicated yourself into fighting crime. Well, you know some things, since Peter was also a mega comic nerd.

He would go on for hours and hours and hours about Batman and his kids (adopted and biological) and whatnot. You didn’t mind, since spending time with a talkative Peter was better than being in your own headspace. If you recall the latest one to come under Batman’s wing was someone named Duke? Well, that’s as far as you remember. 

Regardless, now you're looting someone’s clothing wire. Picking out a thick gray turtleneck and black leggings (thank god) you don them over your suit, making sure nothing was visible. Now the issue is your footwear. Maybe you can get away with it? 

Taking off the mask you were able to stuff it inside your bra (extra pocket, am I right?) while your gloves were hidden among your sleeves. Making sure nothing was out of place you pulled out the wallets of the two petty criminals, counting the money.

“Four-fifty, not bad.” Though you don’t condone your actions, you are in a precarious situation at the moment. Oh well. Tossing one of the wallets away (making sure not to touch it with your fingers), you also placed it inside your bra for safe keeping.

Maybe this would be enough for a motel? How expensive- or cheap are those in Gotham? With how often crimes occur, it shouldn’t be that expensive, right? Regardless, first things first, find a place to eat, find out the date and then a place to stay. Shouldn't be too hard.

Quietly climbing down the side of a complex building, you made sure the coast was clear before heading out. The lack of a jacket made you feel very vulnerable and exposed. Head down and hands to your sides, the cool breeze of the city causes shivers down your spine. “This fucking sucks.” you mumbled, making sure to avoid gothamites as much as possible. 

No time to gawk at your environment when you’re so out of place. You honestly just kept walking around, hearing police sirens and the occasional cop car driving by while you try to not lose your goddamn mind.

Walking around, using back streets and alleys you shiver as the cold nips at your face. It’s not that you’re sensitive to cold, it’s just that you can’t afford to get sick here. In a world where you don’t exist.

“Wait a minute…” thinking back on something, it’s true that you don’t exist here. But that doesn’t mean that a you- doesn’t exist. Maybe somehow there is a version of you or spider-woman here. A far reach but hey, just hours ago, this was all fictional to you. But something worth looking into. 

With a heavy sigh you walk inside an alley, looking up to gauge the time to see- oh, what’s that? Another clothing line! And guess what? It has more clothes to loot! Score! Don’t mind if I do! Finders keepers baby!

And you thought your spider luck was ass.

Discreetly looking around to see for any cameras that can potentially identify you only to come out flat. Perfect. Using the fire escape you parkour to snag a black oversized zip up sweater. 

This would be perfect in covering you even further (and now you have pockets for your mask) and making your figure harder to identify. Now you can start acting like a true gothamite.

With a pep in your step, you exit the alleyway.

Spotting a diner up ahead, settling yourself inside you order your drink of choice and a bagel just to have something to entertain yourself while you calm your nerves.

Sitting down next to a window, taking slow sips and bites from your meal you subtly look around (making a point of subtly ignoring the gaze of the cashier). It seems to be late afternoon, heading to night. Not good, not good at all. 

Besides finding a place to stay, you glance at your wrist, the web watch looking pretty obvious and suspicious out there in the open on your wrist. But, without it, you could perish in this foreign world. Should you pull a Hobie Brown and create a new watch from scratch? No, you don’t have the time, tools, or luxury. Thank god for the hoodie covering it up.

Right now, staying on task is essential. A job, maybe? With what credentials? Hell, you don’t even have an ID. Maybe a fake one? Who would do such a thing for a reasonable price and isn’t a criminal? Another note, you need supplies, enough to build web shooters and the cartridge. Unlike other spiders, you had the ability to shoot webs from your wrist, gross. But (with Peter’s intellect) you ended up also creating webs on your own in case yours fails. And it has- a lot both in comical and crucial times. Peter wouldn’t let you live anything down (god you miss him).

And being in a new world and everything going on, the last thing you need is a web block because of the high anxiety and stress this place is already giving you. You’d rather be safe than sorry. Now, how to get supplies? Stealing them seems easier than working for it. You just don’t have the time. How were you going to steal them, and from where? Who the fuck knows. Probably from a college science room or something.

In order to do even that, you need to find out the layout and what not of this place. So maybe the best place to start is the library? Doesn’t someone from Batman’s little possie work at the library? Can you risk that? Probably.

Fuck, this was going to be harder than it looks. No phone, basically no money (not counting the one you stole from criminals), no ID (or insurance), no place to stay, no allies, ya got nothing. Zip, zero, nada. 

You feel so lost and alone, so vulnerable. And the thoughts in your head are slowly getting louder and louder. Eating away at your insecurities and feelings. God, you’re starting to get homesick. Will you make it back? Will you find a way back home? Is anyone even looking for you?

Last thing you recall was fighting the Spot with Miles, Hobie, Gwen and Pavitr. You remember hopping onto Spot’s back while he was absorbing but then he poof and you along with him. Everything went black for you and then you landed here in this city (ungracefully might I add).

You just want to go home…even if it’s lonely without Uncle Ben, Aunt May and Peter Parker.

You really have nothing, rock bottom, baby. But then again, the only place to go is up, right? 

Sighing you finished your drink and bagel before leaving the diner, making sure to look at the clock above the exit, and aimlessly walking around. Would they let you in one of those shelters? Are those even a thing? Probably, maybe. 

Couldn’t hurt to try. Buuuuut, then again, you need the privacy, so maybe the shelter was a no go. Okay, perfect, back to square fucking zero. A cheap and possibly dangerous motel it is!

Hopefully your spider luck doesn’t fuck you over. You’re honestly thankful for not coming across any batsonas and whatnot. And you were able to get clothes so you say you’re two for two.

After looking around for some time, emphasis on some, you managed to find a motel and get yourself settled. No ID required, just cash, and you internally sobbed at the remaining funds you had left. You really will need a job or a sustainable income.

“Are underground rings still a thing? Is it a thing here?” You mumbled, discarding your stolen clothes before fiddling with your watch until its screen flashes before abruptly turning dark again. “Well now, how fucked am I?” A deep sigh resonated in the empty room. Hopefully while it turned on, Miguel would somehow by some god given miracle (or your spider luck but don’t bank on it) that he received at least a signal, no matter how microscopic it is.

You had to get home. At all costs. This place isn’t your home. It’s not like you should play by the rules. But, Ben, May, and Peter would be so disappointed in you if you break laws just to return to your home universe. And if you’re being truthful, it wouldn’t sit right with you either…

But Miles needs you. 

If this world doesn’t have a- you in it, then you aren’t needed here. So you shouldn’t waste time twiddling your thumbs. Maybe you really do need to break into a computer lab to see what’s up with your watch or scavenge for parts. Hobie built it with parts from Miguel’s earth. Meaning, you can too, with whatever scraps you can find.

You’ll prioritize your watch first, then this city. It’s unfortunate, but you really have to get back home, and you can’t let your feelings get in the way and distract you.

Maybe you should call it a night? Figure things out in the morning? A yawn takes over your thoughts. “Yea, sleep sounds really good right now.” 

These problems are for tomorrow’s you. For now, you’ll catch some Zzz’s and flesh out a detailed plan on how to get back home. 

You’re banking on hacking a computer at the library despite the risks. Shooting a web at the door to prevent any possible and/or unwanted inconveniences because let’s be honest, trust no one but yourself, especially in this bat(ha)shit crazy world, better to be safe than sorry. You need your sanity to fix or at least charge your watch in order to get back home.

“Ben, May, Peter- give me strength.” and into dreamland you go.

-

“Hey B, come look at this.” A female voice spoke out, catching the attention of the adult in the cave. “I got something to show you. I got a trace of a disruption- but it happened quickly and only once.”

“Where.” A gruff and stern voice asked.

“Around the East End.”

“I’ll let Selina know.”

“Should I get someone to look into it?”

“No, I’ll do it myself.”

With that, silence once again enveloped the Bat cave as Batman stepped out.

Prev; Next;

Prologue - A Whole New World

Who knew being in a world where heroes and villains became the part of one’s norm. Especially when one day, you get bitten by a radioactive spider and now have powers who in turn you use for the greater good. Of course not without trials and tribulations and what not, having to constantly prove oneself to others, helping grateful (and ungrateful) people, as well as making sure your civilian life doesn’t bleed into vigilantism, and keeping relationships stable. Though despite this stress inducing predicament, you made it work, for years.

You’ve gained and lost many things. You’re aunt and uncle for example. That shit hit real hard for you, left you rageful and bitter. Uncle Ben died because you let a criminal escape which in turn shot him. You wanted that murderer dead, and you got it (accidentally of course), it didn’t make the pain and loss any better. Honestly you only had yourself to blame. Aunt May became your anchor after your loss. Friends and relationships were thrown out the window. Your focus was more on your aunt and vigilantism. Then you lost aunt May.

This hit was just as bad as Uncle Ben’s death. Before you started at a high, discovering your powers, letting that ego hit sky high. That’s how you lost Ben. With May on the other hand, you lost her differently. This time you were too weak, too vulnerable, too naive, too sloppy. 

While trying to save others during an attack, she got in the crossfire. There was no coming back for you. You lost the two most important people in your life. All you had left was your mask, because with the final death of May, your civilian life died alongside her. 

Then you met Peter Parker. A cute nerd boy you saved once. How Peter came into your life is something you’re grateful for. When you saved him from an attack, he in turn started stalking you- er, your vigilant persona. And then he discovered who you were. He stuck by you through everything, and anything.

He never let your walls deter him. He slowly and painstakingly climbed those walls until you finally let him in. This cute nerd grounded you again. He patched up your wounds, took care of you when you couldn’t, he was your confidant, and eventually he became your best friend. You learned to let people in again, to trust.

Now it was no longer just Spider-woman. You had a civilian identity again. He was there for you when the going was tough. You see, Peter Parker is smart, way too smart, he had big dreams, he was definitely going places. But something about him made you stare at him just a little too long. Peter is a bright man, too bright. 

You see, Peter Parker was dealing with depression, and he (just like you) masked his feelings. You of course figured something was off about Peter, but never pushed it. You definitely regret it now. Peter’s flames were snuffed out too quickly. You also couldn't save him.

Losing Peter was the last straw. This life became unbearable. Uncle Ben, Aunt May, and even your best friend Peter Parker were all taken from you. You wonder how the darkness hasn't consumed you.

Uncle Ben taught you that with great power comes great responsibility. Aunt May taught you that your gift should save as many as you can. And Peter Parker taught you, to keep going, to just keep on moving. 

You may have lost a lot, but you gain many things. So you kept going, no longer losing yourself completely. 

Then a man named Miguel O’Hara, from Earth 928 paid you a visit. Offering you an opportunity of a lifetime. And you took it. Saving other universes from these things called ‘anomalies’. You felt like you had a purpose again, another drive to keep you moving forward. You met other wonderful spiderlings. Young ones, who needed guidance, one that you didn’t have years ago. 

So you became one for them, and in turn they taught you many things as well. These kids are bright, just like your Peter. You refuse to let the hurt- your hurt, hurt others.

Then the situation with the Spot occurred. Fighting him had proven to have been unfortunate, causing you to end up somewhere new. Somewhere far away from home. Checking your multiversal Gizmo watch for a semblance of your location only to find out it’s not turning on. Now you’re stuck, in a universe you have no knowledge of, and with a semi unresponsive watch.

“Where is this… Where am I?” you mumbled to yourself, slightly disheveled from the impact of you kissing the ground.

Standing in an unfamiliar environment, you look around to see anything that can help you, only to see gray skies, and a somewhat gloomy city. None of this rings any bells for you, no landscape to jog a memory, nothing.

You didn’t want to walk around aimlessly either, not with you still in your suit. Not until you can get a better understanding of where you are, you stick to the shadows, using rooftops to swing away. But in this polluted city, you can still hear the police sirens echo, and crime being committed causes your spider-senses to tingle. It doesn’t stop you from not helping though. 

Stopping on a roof you came across two muggers beating a poor civilian, looting him and running. They got about three steps before both were webbed up and dangling. Hopping down you helped the beaten up man get his stolen items back.

“Th-thank you.” He winced in pain.

“Think nothing of it, here,” handing the poor man his phone, you looked up at the two thugs dangling like an ornament. “I suggest getting treated. You look pretty bad. Also, make sure the men in blues get here, can’t leave these two dangling forever, ya know?” 

You watched the man limp away with his phone dialing 911 before turning your attention away. Climbing the walls you reached eye level of the thugs before yoinking their wallets and inspecting their IDs. You had half a mind to stay but then your spider sense tingle and you quickly swung back into the roof, leaving their IDs stuck to the web.

Just as you made it to the roof, flashing red and blue lights made it to the scene. A man steps out of his car, and the same hurt man you saved steps back into the alleyway, directing the policeman. 

“Here, this is where they are.”

One of them walks under the dangling men before he notices your figure. He tenses, hands on his gun as he watches your slow movements. You lower the men onto the ground carefully, watching as the policemen glance between you and the criminals. His eye catches the IDs stuck on the web before looking back up. You were gone.

Swinging away you came across a sign that stopped you almost mid swing. There in the sky of this gloomy but bright city, was a light shining its beam on the clouds. And on the clouds it had a symbol that caused your stomach to flip.

It was the batman symbol.

You were so fucked.

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