Double Trouble
There was someone in his room. He could sense it before he heard them. In fact he likely never would have heard them had his spider sense not given a hissing:
Intruder.
So here he stood, just outside the door to 141, pressed instinctively against the wall as he heard nearly silent, patient breathing inside his room. And it didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Unfortunately, he had grown quite attached to room 141. More importantly, the remnants of his suit were in there. And as much as he despised his suit for what it stood for-
The death of May. A Universe of damage. Pain he could Never Begin to undo.
Thanks brain. Now as he was saying, as much as he despised it for that, it still had his web shooters in it, and it still linked Peter the civilian to Spider-Man. Maybe he’d burn the suit, yeah, that sounded nice. But first he had to get to it, and that meant dealing with whoever was in his room. Which also meant he was going to have to do something he swore he’d never do again.
—————
The frosted window slid up slowly underneath his fingertips, letting him slip into the bathroom of 141 nearly soundlessly. Crawling along the wall and onto the deteriorating ceiling he peeked around the slightly ajar door, having to squint through the eye holes he had ripped into the paperbag he was using as a mask. He had done so once before, and it was perhaps the most embarrassing moment of his superhero career. In his room, the bedroom of 141, was a ninja. Like the ones that had captured him some time ago, she too was a woman with a sword sheathed on her back, a purple cloth covering the bottom half of her face as her black outfit and tanned skin let her blend into the shadows of the room. Her eyes were focused on the front door, watching, waiting, poised to strike the moment it opened.
Unfortunately for her it never would. He gently swung the door open just a bit more, giving him room to crawl across the threshold, silently lowering himself down the wall in the back corner over the discarded remains of his suit. Reaching into the sleeves of it he procured his web shooters (still empty damnit!), sliding them onto his wrists before taking the mask and shoving it into a pocket, The rest of the suit got folded haphazardly and tucked into his waistband for the time being. It was then that his luck ran out, as the paper bag decided right then was the perfect time to rustle as he began climbing the wall again, and in moments the sword was unsheathed and pointed at him.
Danger.
His spider sense told him nothing more however, so at the very least she wasn’t going to kill him, yet.
“You. Did you really think we would not find you here?”
“A man can dream, can’t he?”
“Be quiet, and accept the mercy Talia deems you fit for.”
Peter brought his hand up to where his mouth would be, miming a zipper across it before flicking it away to the side. The ninja scowled in response, or possibly had been scowling this whole time. The purple cloth made it hard to tell.
“You have proven more resilient than had been expected, especially for one not of the bat. For this we are giving you one chance to repay your debt to us. Aid us in our battle against the Demon and we shall leave you in the solitude you seem to desire. Argue, and you will not live long enough to apologize for it.”
The ninja stared at him for a moment, letting her words sink in before asking.
“Now, what do you say?”
Peter mimed speaking, no words coming out as he put his hands up to his mouth. The ninja rolled her eyes at him as he mimed unzipping his mouth before speaking.
“No thanks.”
The ninja did not seem pleased with this remark as she practically pounced at him, sword slashing right where he had been standing. Luckily he had stepped off to the side just in time to avoid it, but that didn’t mean the ninja was gonna let up.
This was the part he liked in a fight. After the first swing when his spider sense practically sang to him, left, right, jab in the arm, onto the wall. On a good day, he could completely shut his mind off. Drift off to what groceries he was going to need, or how he was gonna get home that night, maybe decide if he was gonna visit Tony first-
He can’t reach Tony, not from here.
The sword nicked his shoulder as he winced, he hadn’t even realized he was on the ceiling. He couldn’t let his mind wander, not now. Not only was his opponent too skilled for that, but who knew where it would wonder too? And that could throw him off, clearly.
“Nice sword! Mind if I borrow it?” The next slash missed him by an inch as he contorted on the ceiling. Reaching out he pinched the back of the blade between two of his fingers and tugged. Sticking himself to the ceiling, and his fingers to the blade, either the sword was going to come out of her hands, or she would be dragged with it.
She seemed to have chosen the latter as she stumbled past his side. As he let go and dropped from the ceiling she ducked into a roll, coming up facing him just in time for him to kick her squarely in the chest and send her flying.
Out the window.
From the 14th floor.
Shit.
The window shattered, unsurprising given the strength of his kick, but unfortunate as it sent the ninja falling. As quick as he could he jumped to the window, then down a bit as he just barely caught the wrist of the ninja. Legs braced against the outside wall, left hand holding onto the window ledge, right hand holding the ninja over a multi-story drop onto the broken rusty metal of the fire escape that had fallen his first night here. Taking a moment to look over the ninja, he realized her other arm was broken, having hit the wall next to the window before she crumpled through it. Luckily that meant no more having to deal with the sword that was just now clattering into the heaps of metal far below them.
“Feeling a bit more cooperative now?” He asked, raising her to look her in the eye before lowering her again when he realized intimidation likely wasn’t going to work when he was wearing a paper bag.
Whistling? Approaching. Sharp. Catch. Right.
It was strange at times, his spider sense. All he got directly were those 5 words. Yet when he moved his left hand over to catch whatever it was, it seemed to know exactly where to go and when to close. Looking at the strange blue object in his hand he peered off to the right, trying to see where it came from.
—————
Nightwing couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Perched on the wall of the building in front of him, dangling from the window ledge, was what looked to be a kid with a paper bag over his head, holding one of Talia’s Guard.
“Oracle, I might have a follow-up on Red Robin’s L-o-A kid.”
“Oh?” came the reply in his earpiece.
“Yeah, he’s hanging from the side of the old Park-Place apartments with one of Talia’s Guard in his hand.”
There was a beat of silence, followed by a confused:
“Sorry?”
Nightwing grinned to himself, it had been a while since he heard utter disbelief in Barbara’s voice.
“Yeah, he’s wearing a paper bag over his head. Can’t tell if he’s with or against the league, but regardless we need to separate them.”
“You’re messing with me.”
“Not in the slightest, check my mask cam if you don’t believe me.”
Another moment of near silence as he heard her typing the command to switch views.
“He actually has a bag over his head.”
“Told you so.”
“Well, do what you gotta do.”
“Understood, moving in.”
Nightwing pulled out a wingding, aiming squarely at the boy as he threw it, preparing to swing in and catch him if the pain caused him to let go and start falling.
Instead, the boy stood up and caught the wing ding.
Neither hand was on the wall now, instead he was simply standing sideways. Like someone had glued him to the wall. For a moment Nightwing just looked at him, dumbfounded. But you don’t get much time to stare in shock in this sort of business, so he began to swing in for a kick, right as a cloud of smoke engulfed the two.
—————
The object in his hand was fairly small, and frighteningly sharp. Shaped like a W with a little bird head sticking up from the middle bit. Most of it was black, except for the sharpened curves that made each side of the W. Those were a bright blue, and possibly a different metal entirely from the black, if his initial inspection was to be believed. Whatever it was he had just caught, the ninja seemed to recognize it, as her free hand grasped some sort of small capsule at her waist. The movement was honestly impressive given her broken arm. With a quick flick of her wrist she tossed it at the wall he was now standing on, a plume of smoke erupting from where it made contact. The first thing he felt was the sudden absence of her wrist in his hand.
Incoming!
He did not however have much time to figure out just how the hell she did that. The second thing he felt was two heavy soles pressing firmly into his chest as he was kicked cleanly off the wall, tumbling onto a nearby rooftop. He hit it hard, and went fully limp for a moment as the momentum carried him, until he finally got his wits together and tucked into a roll, using what momentum he had left to spring upright in a sort of reverse-somersault.
Is that what it feels like when I swing-kick someone?!? I have to start reining that in a bit…
His assailant soon landed on the roof in front of him, gracefully flipping into view. It was a man, dressed in a black suit (and not a cocktail-party-in-Tony’s…. Haven’t we done this before?) with bright blue accents and a bright blue bird on the front of it. Well, that certainly explained the strange disc he was still holding. For the time being Peter pocketed it.
The man was taller than Peter, as most full-grown adults were, but he didn’t seem to be that tall of a person generally. He was lithe, but not quite skinny. Peter could tell there was a lot of muscle hidden away in the man’s agile body. His hair was nearly jet black, coming down in curls to just above his eye level. Around his eyes was one of those masks that seemed to just stick in place. What were they called again? Dowel… Dor… dom… domino masks! That was it.
Peter silently thanked the universe for allowing him to remember what they were called, as it would have kept him up all night otherwise.
Now he knew what the man looked like, but he didn’t know who the man was. And so he went about asking, in his usual sassy way.
“Wait wait, let me guess…” Peter started pacing across the length of the rooftop.
“Bird-boy!” He pointed at the man in a questioning motion, before going back to pacing.
“Guess not then…. Is it… Nighthawk?” Finger guns this time, then more pacing.
“Blue Jay! Hawk-Guy! Blue…. Bird?” He was running out of names when the man responded, smirking a little.
“Wrong vigilante.”
“Wait. Seriously? There’s one of you named Bluebird? And here I thought Red Hood was lacking in creativity… Shame on me I suppose. So which one are you?”
“Nightwing, and you?”
He wasn’t sensing any hostility from Nightwing quite yet, though the man was clearly ready for anything. For now though he allowed Peter his distance. Still, he had no plans of telling this vigilante his name. He had been fighting off a ninja when this started, and he had his suit on him right now. There was plenty of suspicion being tossed his way already and he didn’t want that leaking into his civilian life.
“Well normally the suit gives it away but it’s in dry cleaning, guess you’ll just have to hope for better luck next time.” And with one last quip he ran for the edge of the roof, planning to jump either down to the alleys below or onto the next roof over, whichever seemed easiest. He was stopped however by the sound of unspooling wire and the feeling of it wrapping around his foot, a metal claw gripping his ankle before it started pulling him towards Nightwing.
“I’ve got a few more questions, if you don’t mind.”
Nightwing said as he was being pulled closer. Well if this random guy wanted more from him, he’d get more. About halfway across the roof, as the distance between them was closing, Peter suddenly stuck to the rooftop. Nightwing may have been bracing himself as held the grapple enough to pull Peter towards him, but he hadn’t accounted for Peter’s stickiness as suddenly he found himself being pulled forward instead. The grapple gun practically tore away from his hand as he zipped towards Peter’s ankle, another fun toy to add to the increasing number of things Peter was stealing from the man.
“You know,” Peter said as he flipped back onto his feet, “I know I’m good looking, but you seem to have gotten awfully clingy awfully fast.”
The corners of Nightwing’s mouth gave the slightest raise, and Peter was sure he was getting on the guy’s good side. Or he thought so, until the man began to sprint towards him.
Duck!
The first swing went just over his head, followed by a low kick he easily blocked, then a third strike he was just barely able to back away from with a standing backflip. Both of his hands shot up to his chest now, falling in place for a loose fighting stance. He knew more disciplined ones (Natasha made sure of that), but he had always found this to be a good middle ground until he got a feel for his opponent. A feeling he was going to get sooner rather than later as the next barrage came in.
Right! Kick! Under! Roll!
Peter dodged each hit, blocking only those he absolutely couldn’t avoid entirely. With every move Peter made, Nightwing seemed to smile just a little more.
“Are you enjoying this? First you’re too clingy, now you want to fight, has anyone ever told you you have an unhealthy attachment style?”
But Nightwing didn’t say a word. After each string of attacks he’d back off for a few seconds, that damn smile never ceasing. It was starting to piss him off.
“You’re just testing me, is that it?”
“The league’s taught you well.”
Well that seemed to get a response. Peter must have been right on the money. So Nightwing was testing him, but testing him for what? For now, he just needed to keep Nightwing talking.
“The league? What league are we talking? Baseball? Football? Hockey?”
“Though I have to say their type aren’t usually so talkative. So what are you then, a new trainee?”
Looks like Nightwing had some quips of his own, though they were of course no match for Peter’s.
“Oh for sure, let me just call me manager, he plays goalie.”
Ok so maybe they were a match for his.
“Huh, didn’t know Talia played sports.”
Peter’s eyes widened at that. Talia? As in the woman that kidnapped him? The one whose ninja he was just fighting? That Talia? What the hell did that have to do with anything? Unfortunately, that moment of thought seems to confirm some unknown suspicion Nightwing had about him as the man’s smile immediately disappeared.
“Got ya.”
Is all he said before renewing the offensive. His strikes came with more force now, quicker, less predictable. His spider sense could still keep up with it, but just barely. And if he hesitated at all to listen to what his spider sense was telling him, well…
The punch landed squarely on his jaw, sending Peter stumbling back a few steps. This new assault only confirmed that the man had been testing him before, comparing him to something. Something that gave him that damn smile on his face. He couldn’t stand that smile. Couldn’t stand the fact that he was being tested. His vision started to tinge green at the peripheral as a rage built inside him, yet something was fighting it. A blue light pressing back against the green as the anger threatened to swallow him whole. It was a lid placed on a pot that was about to boil over. The strange sensation in his hair forced itself to the forefront as he glared at the man in front of him. The man whose eyes darted up to Peter’s hair as well.
Dodge! Back! Forward! Punch him!
Beat him! Harder! Make him Bleed!
Even his spider sense could feel the anger, and was responding to it in kind as Peter’s counter attacks grew more violent. Ultimately it turned out to be his downfall, as one misplaced punch thrown in anger gave Nightwing the opening he needed. Twisting around Peter, Nightwing pushed him forward in the direction his momentum was already carrying him, while simultaneously the man’s leg stayed planted in front of him. The effect was perhaps the most successful tripping of someone Peter had ever seen as he crashed face first into the roof. Just as he was about to turn over and spring to his feet once again, Nightwing pinned him down. For a moment Peter snarled at him, and the absurdity of that was what finally broke him out of his anger, as the blue light inside him and in his vision snuffed out the green.
“Have you calmed down now?”
He didn’t quite understand why Nightwing was being so nice to him after they had just been fighting, but regardless he let out a sigh.
“Yeah.” Then, with a much quieter tone, “Sorry.”
He hated the way it made him sound to apologize for that. Childish. Though it seemed his sincere answer threw Nightwing off a bit, as the man hesitated before speaking.
“What’s the league want with you?.”
“Look man, I don’t know what this league you’re talking about is. All I know is I don’t want to be your enemy. And I don’t see why I have to be.”
Peter’s fingers were inching down his side, to something he had pocketed earlier…
“And you expect me to let you go about your business? Run free along with the rest of Talia’s guard? Or are you with Ra’s? Looking to end the schism by any means?”
“I don’t even know who Ra’s is!” He nearly had it now, his hand barely pressing against the metal of it…
“They may have taught you to fight but they’ve clearly not taught you how to lie.”
A familiar voice sounded from Nightwing’s ear. A tinny voice. The same voice that had been talking to Red Hood.
“Nightwing, B is on the way, he’ll handle the interrogation from there. Just keep the kid talking.”
That wasn’t gonna happen. He could only assume that ‘B’ was the big one, Batman. And that was the last thing he needed.
“Now then, let’s get this trash off of you before we take you in.”
Nightwing reached for the paper bag over Peter’s head, which was just the opportunity Peter needed. Whipping his hand from his pocket up and over his head he aimed the grapple gun at the next building over. It was quite a ways above him, and Nightwing wasn’t going to just let it happen, but his super strength proved too much for the man as he was able to shake him off right as the grapple gun began pulling him away.
It was exciting and familiar at the same time, being whisked through the air like that. It reminded him how sorely he missed his webs, even if this wasn’t quite swinging as he reached the top of the building. He almost felt powerful from up there, looming over Nightwing on the building below. Still, he called out to the vigilante.
“I still don’t see why we need to be enemies! Look, I’ll even give this back, as a show to good faith!” It sounded wrong even as it came out of his mouth. Vigilantes shouldn’t have to plead to work together. But if this is what it would take, then damn it Peter was willing to plead.
He tossed the grapple gun back down, though made sure it landed in an alley below, somewhere Nightwing would have to take his eyes off Peter to get in case the man was still determined to chase him. Instead Nightwing just got to his feet from where Peter had shaken him off, staring up at him.
“And what about the wing-ding?”
“The what? Oh god, please don’t tell me that’s what you named these things!” Peter held out the metal W from before. To which the man just nodded.
“You know what, I’m keeping this! You threw it at me after all, it’s not like I took it like I did with the grappling thing!”
Nightwing’s eyes seemed almost to grow sharper then,
“Right well, this has been a lovely chat but I’d hate to be here when one of your Bat Friends arrives!”
“Wait! If you’re so insistent we don’t need to be enemies, then tell me your name!”
His name? Well that made sense, it would make him easier to track down when he wasn’t wearing a paper bag. So clearly it couldn’t be his real name. Then again, he ought to give the man something to go off of. Not only would it get the vigilante off his back for a while, but it may even begin to bridge the misunderstanding he seemed to harbor.
“Alright, fine.”
“So? What is it?”
Peter paused for just a moment before replying, the half-shout carrying his voice to the building below him as he gave his answer:
“Richard Grayson.”