A Gotham Tradition
Peter wasn’t quite sure where in the city he had settled down now. The map in the subway hadn’t even had a “Crime Alley” on it last he saw. And with a name like that he wasn’t really surprised that it wasn’t the official name of the district. That being said, if he had noted the landmarks correctly then apartment 141 was at one end of Park Row, and where he was now was on the other. All he knew for sure was that from the roof of this new building he could see the library off in the distance. It’d be a rough walk but it was in fact walkable.
His new home was a shorter building. At some point it must have been all office space because there were still cubicles and broken down spinny chairs all over the place. It was three stories tall, but the bottom two floors were boarded off. Technically the third floor was too but someone well before him had torn the boards off and graffiti’d the place. It wasn’t quite as normal a home as his last place, but it happened to be much nearer the library, and would give him a much better setup for when he started getting back in the web slinging business.
All of this came rushing to him as he sat bolt upright, suddenly awake, banished from his own dream by that asshole of a God. No, god. His spider sense was still ringing, quite like he imagined tinnitus to be, but not in his ears. There were threats in every direction, hidden in the dark, in the shadows of this derelict city. Slowly the ringing ceased, his eyes still darting from shadow to shadow until he was sure he was safe. For a moment he even considered taking the ninjas from the night before up on their offer if it meant not having to worry they were around every corner.
Oh how sick and tired he was of nightmares. He’d kill a man if it meant a decent night of sleep.
Careful.
His spider sense was right, his train of thought had gotten a little too violent there. This city must be getting to him.
Best then to distract himself from this hovel of a home. It would get better with time, as he turned it more and more into a hideout. But for now, he was headed back out. It was a new day, and it was just now dawning on him that he had not eaten in quite a few days. His life had been… distracting… lately.
He left the remains of his Spider-Man outfit in the corner once again as he made his way to the no-longer boarded up door to the third floor. On the other side was a staircase, and a broken down wall. Down the stairs was the blocked off second floor, and, even further down, the blocked off first floor. More conveniently, on the other side of the broken down wall was the remnants of concrete, rebar, and dust that made a fairly climbable (spider powers or not) path up and down the side of the building.
HIs clothes stuck to his back as he made his way down the street. He had been wearing the same outfit for three (or was it four? He was having trouble telling) days now and the sort of cleaning he had been doing on it only worked so well. His stomach was letting out a growl and he was just now realizing why his wounds hadn’t been healing quite the way he expected them to. The hunger pangs had started a day and a half ago, but he had dealt with them before, and frankly the whole being in another universe thing seemed more important. He had never been that good at taking care of himself to begin with. Beginning his research into the tech of this world was far more important anyway, not to mention just familiarizing himself with the universe he found himself in. It was all going to be needed if he planned to find a way back.
What is there to go back to?
Nope nope nope, not gonna think like that right now. No-sir-ee.
Luckily, it was about this time he got to the shopping district. Compared to any other city it was awful, but for Gotham? It was nearly beautiful. Long streets mostly free of potholes, buildings with intact windows and unboarded doors. Lights shining from retail store entryways and parking lots. Hell, even most of the garbage was at least near the cans. More importantly, there was an ATM tucked between two stores. Walking up to it he took the usual defensive stance of anyone used to using ATM’s in shady cities. Holding his breath he finally let out a sigh of relief when he successfully logged into his freshly made account, withdrawing the stolen three hundred dollars. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough. Now he just had to find a thrift store and a place to eat for cheap.
Far away, in a great stone building, an alert pinged on a librarian’s computer.
–––––
Bat Chat:
Babs:
We got activity on hacker kid’s bank account.
Dickie:
You’re tracking him? Isn’t that a bit unethical?
Babs:
Only his bank account, and it's more ethical than tossing him to the GCPD when he’s just down on his luck.
Jaylad:
Is he just down on his luck?
Babs:
Well that's why I’m tracking it. Certainly seemed like he was homeless, but if a few thousand dollars suddenly pops up in the account we’ll know there’s something more going on.
Jaylad:
Fair enough. So what's the activity?
Babs:
Looks like he just withdrew the money he had put in his account is all. Give me a sec.
Babs:
Yeah, withdrew it from the ATM at the convenience store on 5th street.
Jaylad:
Oh Shit.
Dickie:
You good Jay?
Jaylad:
Yeah, I see him.
Babs:
???
Jaylad:
I was just headed there to grab some snacks, my safehouse nearby just ran out.
Dickie:
Wait, you see hacker kid?
Dickie:
Jay?
Jaylad is typing…
–––––
Just as the money was comfortably in his pocket, his spider sense set off.
Right! Danger! Knife!
Sure enough he saw them coming, but as the man put the knife up to his throat and beckoned him into the alley, there was little choice Peter had but to go with him. He had to get out of public view before he kicked this guy’s ass. And that meant acting like a good little victim until they were well and truly in the alley. Then he could handle him as needed, and if the thug knew what was good for him, he’d keep his mouth shut about being beaten by a kid.
“Well what do we have here?”
Correction: Thugs. The second man came around the corner from behind a dumpster, a gun tucked into his waistband.
“Caught this little bastard taking a helping from our machine. Put quite a bit into that pocket of yours, didn’t’ya kid?”
Peter tilted his head away from the knife, like he was afraid, trying to distance himself as much as he could as he gave his best stammering victim voice.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about! I swear!”
He glanced over his shoulder, the entry to the alley far enough away that no-one would likely see him deck these two. Just as he made sure of this the thug with the knife shoved him into the wall, hard. His head bounced against the brick with a sickening crack, and for a moment the thugs looked worried as Peter went limp in the first one’s arms.
“S-SHIT! IS HE DEAD!?”
“Shut up! Be quiet! We have to dump him somewhere!”
“R-right! Where?!”
“Just calm down he- wait a second. H-he cracked the brick!”
“You two just fucked up big time.”
The last voice came from a tall, broad shouldered man standing at the edge of the alley. Wearing a red hoodie that barely hid his muscled build, he slowly approached. His face held a combination of anger and confidence.
Danger! Friend? Danger! DANGER DANGER DANGER!
Peter’s spider sense hissed at him as the man continued his walk deeper into the alley. Danger and anger seemed to radiate off of him in waves. The thug with the gun finally pulled it, aiming at this new interloper. Just the moment Peter had been waiting for as he sprang into action. In one moment he was limp in the thugs arms, in the next he was shoving the thug into the wall across from them.
“What the hell?!”
The second thug hesitated for a moment, unsure which of the two to aim at, and that hesitation was all Peter needed as he threw the first thug back towards the guy at the edge of the alley, kicking off the wall for added speed as he delivered a blow to the second thugs wrist. The gun clattered out of his hand as Peter slipped under the man’s arm. A jumping kick to the man’s back sent him stumbling forward as Peter twisted midair to land back on his feet.
Behind you!
He had heard the first thug and the mysterious man fighting behind him for a bit, but his spider sense was telling him that their fight was about to get closer, so he jumped out of the way (he had nearly flipped out of the way instead, but he was merely a civilian right now, he had to remember that). Only for the first thug’s body to come flying past and slam into the second thug’s body, taking them both to the ground. A quick inspection told him they were both unconscious.
“Good work,” He said to the man behind him, the one who had thrown the thug, “but if you keep playing hero like this you’re gonna get hurt.”
The man smirked, nearly laughing at that.
“And what, you’d have me let you get killed? I saw the way you hit the wall, the sound your skull made.”
Peter grimaced, thinking on the fly before turning to the man with a smile.
“Oh no, that was the brick, happened to crack when they shoved me into it. You know how it is, weak old walls and all.” He pointed to the spot his head had made contact, a mini-crater in the wall. It wasn’t something normal people would easily walk away from, let alone still be in a condition to fight off two thugs. But it was the best answer he was going to be able to give the man.
“Uh huh,” The man looked less than convinced, “Anyway, that was some fancy fighting you did there. You some sort of gymnast?”
Peter just rolled his eyes as he walked over to where the gun lay. He had learned how to field strip a variety of weapons from Natasha, and one less gun out on the streets would be nice. At this point it was almost second nature as he picked it up, still talking to the man.
“Nope, just know how to take care of myself.”
Eject the magazine, make sure the chamber is clear
“If you’re gonna be smaller than them, gotta be faster too.”
Let the slide forward, engage thumb safety
The man’s voice cut in.
“And who taught you that?”
“Life. Years living in the rough part of the city.” It was only partly a lie, sure a lot of his lessons came after he got his powers, from mentors and heroes and the like. But for a while he had lived in the rough part of the city. Uncle Ben and Aunt May weren’t well off by any means, and the city only got rougher during the blip. He had learned his fair share of lessons long before the cape too. Or before the spandex outfit, rather.
“Gotta survive somehow.” Peter shrugged.
Press the recoil spring in. Rotate the bushing. Slowly release the spring. Disengage the safety.
“And did life teach you how to take apart a gun too?” The man said, walking up to Peter and watching as he worked, seemingly ready to take over when Peter missed a step or did something wrong. Like that was gonna happen.
“Nope, just call this a hobby of mine.” Peter replied with his usual level of sass.
Push the slide back. Remove the slide stop. Pull the frame off the slide.
Technically there was more to a field stripping but Peter found that this was about as much as he needed to do. Then came his personal step, tossing the slide and barrel into a dumpster or a trash can or somewhere else the person who owned the gun wouldn’t find it. At that point it didn’t really matter if he separated the barrel from the slide or not, the gun wasn’t gonna be used any time soon.
“You make a hobby of taking apart guns?” The man asked with a smirk, seemingly satisfied with Peter’s effective dismantling of the weapon.
“As much as you make a hobby of asking other people’s business.” The man’s smirk only got wider.
Just then Peter’s stomach growled, he had nearly forgotten that he was planning to eat before all this happened.
“Jesus kid, when’s the last time you ate something?”
“That depends, what day of the week is it?
“That’s a worrying question.”
“That’s not an answer to my worrying question, thank you very much.” This all felt strangely familiar…
The man let out a little chuckle at that before speaking.
“You use that line often?” Then, before he could reply, “Come on kid, I know a taco place a few blocks over, let’s get you some food.”
The man turned, as if expecting Peter to follow, and Peter did. Food seemed a nice enough prospect, and his spider sense seemed to take an affinity to this man anyway, so he was relatively sure he was safe despite the danger alarms earlier.
“What’s your name?”
“Jason. You?”
“Peter.”