Walking on eggshells
Athanasia
“A dagger does not regret its cuts. I sword does not look back on those it struck. And so neither will you. Weapons do not weep.”
Athanasia still remembers that lesson, back when she was another nameless assassin training in the leagues court yard.
Back when she was simply one of many.
Back when things were still easy. (Relatively easy)
She was trained to not regret. It was one of the first things she learned.
But now, sitting on the cold floor of her prison, so devoid of energy that she cannot even move from where she’d been thrown (No. Not thrown) left, right now cold and exhausted she regrets.
She regrets leaving the league out of some selfish, childish inclination.
She regrets ever coming to Gotham.
She regrets being caught by the owl courts servants.
She regrets her own fate and her pathetic nature.
Athanasia was supposed to be an al Ghul. How that is supposed to be true far surpasses her understanding. A true al Ghul wouldn’t have fallen victim to this lowlife courts experiments. And a true al Ghul definitely would not be laying on this dirty floor wallowing in self-pity.
But what difference does that make now? She will never make it back to Nanda Parbat.
And even if she were by some magic able to make it, she would never be accepted back.
After all she is nothing but the pathetic run away br-
The unpleasant screeching of her cell door rings through the room.
Why are they back so quickly?! They usually give her a significantly longer break..right?? Yes, of course she has lost track of time some time ago. (It is natural when one is trapped in the dark for considerable time!) But the regular amount of time they take cannot possibly have already passed!
She feels the panic rush into her veins. However she refuses to give them the satisfaction of seeing her so broken.
So Athanasia ignores the pain and pushes her body upward. Her jaw set with furious determination and her green eyes staring up defiantly.
As the door slides open her resolve hardens.
And then green meets green.
In front of her stands not some vicious court member or rabid talon. In the doorway stands only a boy.
He is at most a year older than her, though his rather scrawny build could be deceiving. His face is framed by scruffy brown curls, still wet and sticking to his head. He’s a bit pale as well. But none of these features are all that remarkable to Athanasia.
What is however are the glowing green eyes and the white streak in his hair. The boy came out of a Lazarus pit, very recently.
The shade of both of these signs is just the slightest bit off. To most people there wouldn’t be a difference.
But she’s been around enough people who’ve entered the pits to be able to tell. Wherever he came out of was likely less pure than the pits the league of assassins guards.
Not that it surprises her much, they are in Gotham after all. Nothing stays pure in this city for long.
For moment neither of them speaks. And then the boy starts speaking.
“Hi…uhm…need some help?”
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
What kind of sorcery is this? Pit madness should’ve already affected the kid. He should not be able to speak. Much less have the ability to exercise or express any form of empathy!
It usually takes months of recovery to get anywhere near the point of reason for a child his age.
Yet here he is. Seemingly utterly unaffected.
She is too confused to even begin to bristle at the implication of her helplessness. So she simply nods her head slightly.
That seems to be all it takes for the boy.
“All right. Can you walk? Do you know where the exit is by chance?”
Snapping out of her momentary stupor, Athanasia (mentally chastising herself) finally manages to rebuke the underlying accusation in his questions.
“I am perfectly capable of moving on my own. And yes, I am aware of where the exit may be located. I am not some helpless damsel in distress.”
“Eh, I wouldn’t be so sure. Kinda looks like we did need to rescue you.”
Suddenly there’s a second boy standing beside the first one. Both look identical to each other. And it suddenly hits Athanasia just who she is looking at.
The owls had spoken about this particular experiment. Two twins cloned from the DNA of some prophesied hero of the owl court. The clones seemed to be non viable, even after genetic modification through the introduction of certain arachnid genes. (It admittedly repulsed her when she first heard of it.)
Well they did not seem so non viable now, nor any more spider-like than normal.
No matter who or what they truly are, she is better. And she refuses to be bested by some hours old newborns.
Athanasia uses more strength than she’d ever like to admit to stand. But she stands and that is what’s of importance.
For a few seconds at least. Her legs buckle. But the first boy catches Athanasia before her knees even touch the ground.
“Benji….”
“Yes?”
“Cut. It. Out.”
(So they already bear names? Curious.)
“sorry about him, he’s an asshole”
To that she simply raises a brow. Choosing to stay silent instead of giving away valuable information. After all how much can she really trust these two?
The first boy breaks the silence before long.
“Okay so uhmmm…exit? You said you know where they might be… do you think you might be able to… lead us there?”
“…….. I suppose so. Our goals seem to align in that regard.”
“Okay great! Thanks! Do you… mind if I …carry you?”
As much as Athanasia wants to tell him off. (As much as she wants to keep her dignity intact. )
She knows she is incapable of moving fast enough on her own.
“I suppose it is the most logical solution as of now.”
Peter
This place is a labyrinth.
There’s no doubt about it. Every time all of them round a corner or go up some stairs, there’s another identical looking corridor. How’s that even possible?!
He thought getting the girl to agree to come with them had been hard. (No thanks to Ben he might add.)
Peter’s carrying her now wolf-spider style. She seems to be pretty sure where they’re going, only hesitating every fifth turn or so. (WHO NEEDS A SECRET LAYER THIS BIG ANYWAY? THIS IS BULLSHIT. No scratch that a bull doesn’t cut it. This has to be rhino shit at least.)
The corridor splits again and the girl points them left this time. As far as he can tell they’re heading towards the right way. Just based on how the air has started to feel fresher and the shift in temperature. The deeper underground the warmer it usually is. And right now it’s getting colder. So for the moment the girl is probably right.
Obviously Peter wants to stop calling her “the girl” in his head. But after Ben’s comment she sorta shut down. So he hasn’t caught her name yet. Though he’s ninety percent sure she has picked up on both their names. Seems like the observant type.
He could give her a nickname but all he has on her are the emerald eyes and the fact that she stumbles pretty easily. And that she’s “not some helpless damsel in distress”.
(And calling her wobbly or greens just feels kinda mean to be honest. )
The fact that Ben has to carry all three bags right now was a quick decision to hide Peter’s inhuman strength. And definitely not because he’s mad at Ben or something.
People…wrong..!coming here!!!hide! wrong!
Peter stops dead in his tracks. People? But there’s no heartbeats…there! He can feel the vibrations that feel like steps. But he can’t hear anything besides that. It’s unnaturally silent.
He shifts his weight into a fighting stance, seeing Ben copy him out of the corner of his eye.
“What is wrong? Why have we stopped?” The girls voice is barely a whisper. But in the quiet hallway it sounds like she’s screaming to Peter.
“There’s something down here. Heading right towards us.” Ben supplies. Even though he shouldn’t have heard her as a normal human, like the two are trying to pretend. (Ben’s always struggled more with playing human than Peter. Doesn’t have the experience his brother has with being “normal”)
“There are guards on the upper floors. It means we’re headed in the right direction.”
“Why didn’t you tell us that earlier?” Peter’s voice is barely above a hiss. But it still echoes trough the corridor.
“It did not appear relevant at the time.” Her tone is nonchalant but Peter picks up on the deeper meaning in the statement anyways. She was testing them. Trying to see if Peter and Ben knew more than they let on.
That’s why she’s been so quiet up until now. The kid doesn’t trust them.
“Peter come on.”
He looks towards Ben, who’s already opened on of the hallway doors (they’ve gotten a lot more intricate design wise the further up they are, the whole gothic vibe of the place has gotten worse actually. Are they in some sort of Draculas castle?? Is that why the “guards” don’t have heartbeats?? Cuz they’re vampires??)
Peter silently closes the door behind him. Taking a look around the room. Seems like some sort of kitchen or something. There’s a lot of cupboards, cooking stuff even a fridge.
Aaand of course Ben’s already opening everything. Peter figured the taking food out of the fridge without asking was decently normal since he’d only done it at the shared apartment. Don’t think about May. Don’t think about May. But apparently it’s a habit of Ben outside of the family kitchen too.
Peter almost expects the fridge to be filled with blood or something. But when Ben opens it it’s just normal food. Milk and eggs, which Ben immediately snatches and breaks open over his mouth. Gross.
Peter sets the girl down on the counter and goes over to tell his brother of. His stomach has other plans though, because as soon as he gets close enough it growls lowly. To which Ben responds by holding out the by now half empty egg carton.
“That’s disgusting.”
“No. Those are eggs actually.”,(Smug shit),”Come on it’s easy protein. Who knows when we’ll get another chance for a quick meal. Hey Wobbles you want some too?”
The girl looks up from where she’s apparently inspecting one of the kitchen knifes and scowls at Ben.
“Firstly, call me “Wobbles” again and see what will happen to you. Secondly consuming raw eggs is beyond disgusting and a likely biohazard.”
“Eh, could be worse.”
“And how would you imagine that, Ben?” Yep, she knows their names. That’s definitely not gonna come back to bite them in the ass later or anything. Peter moves towards the door, listening to the movement outside, trying to distract himself from the giant security issue that the kid potentially is now.
“Could be human blood or something.”
“Why would there be human blood in a random fridge?”
“‘Cause this is a vampire lair. Obviously. I mean it’s gothic, old, decrepit, really fuckin’ dark and all that.”
Ben doesn’t mention the no heartbeat thing. But Peter knows his brother picked up on that too. His body language mirrors Peter’s. He’s tense and in a loose fighting stance, ready for an attack. The kid is too, judging by how she’s started to subtly stash the knifes away. Well it would be subtle if she wasn’t dressed in a short sleeved white shirt, loose black pants and no shoes.
She must be cold.
The realization hits Peter embarrassingly late. He moves back to the other two. (Setting down the empty egg carton) and grabs some spare clothes out of one of the duffel bags.
He hands her a washed out black hoodie and the pair of old cargo pants he got from Ben a while ago. That should be warm enough.
The girl looks at him with barely hidden confusion. Still she takes them hesitantly. Small wins!
He throws Ben a blue hoodie and keeps the red one for himself. The colors are dark enough that they shouldn’t be too visible. Hopefully.
Ben resumes his rummaging and Peter decides not to start an argument about his brother stealing the food from the cupboards. He can fight with him about that later. Because right now the steps are coming closer.
Fuck the door isn’t locked. If the maybe-vampires decide to come inside they’re all going to be toast. Peter moves a silently as possible and holds the door shut.
Watching
He turns his head to the kid. She just quirks a brow and points to the light switch. Oh right the lights. Peter quickly shuts those off after mouthing a silent ‘thanks’ to her.
The steps are right outside in the hallway now. With a noticeable heartbeat the spider sense probably would have alerted him way earlier. But even as close as they are now, there’s still no real sound, only the vibration from the slow walking.
Everything is dead silent now. Ben having abandoned his looting as soon as Peter shut of the lights. Despite what most people believe or believed, Peter is very capable of staying still. Most spiders are ambush predators after all. Not that he feels very predatory right now. His spider sense humming a low warning, as unsure as Peter probably.
God he hopes these things can’t smell them.