Happy Halloween everyone!
Here is a little one-shot based on my Deadpool Chaos story where Deadpool celebrates Halloween in his own little way in Avenger's Tower.
Hope you all enjoy.
Deadpool Halloween
There was something in the air. Deadpool could smell it. Something sweet and sour… with the taste of rainbows. Skittles! No, it wasn't just that. There was something else. Something that pressed in on him and sank deep into his inner self. It craved and demanded and poked and prodded, and finally, he could take it no more.
He needed to go trick-or-treating.
And not just any kind, it needed to be the real kind. If he was going to do it, it would be with style.
Decision made, now all he had to do was figure out what to dress up as. And he knew just the thing. Because seriously, fuck Marvel, he was doing DC, and that meant Batman. And everyone knew, there could be no Batman without a Robin, and Deadpool knew just the guy for that role.
Whistling happily, he set to work. Sowing skills on level 100—just because he was good like that. He was going to make his own costume. And living in Avenger's Tower meant he could get a hold of pretty much everything. So, with a little scouring on his part, and a lot of shushing to the AI, Jarvis, he had managed to squirrel away a massive collection of material. All, of course, very essential for his costume to be 100 percent functioning. There was no such thing as short cuts when it came to Halloween after all. It was meant to be celebrated like a religion and everyone knew, you don't half ass religious ceremonies. With that in mind, his first little project was the helmet with its cute little ears sticking up and impressive angry wrinkles by the eyes. After that came the beautiful, form fitting costume, which clung tight in just the right areas and gave a little bit more support to some areas that he wasn't used to. All in all, the costume was so good that he worried a little that maybe he had picked the wrong anti-hero.
He stared himself in the mirror and smiled, then grimaced and hurried away to get some concealer. Those wrinkles made him look like an old grandpa, but Deadpool was no grandpa, he was a sexy sonofabitch with a tight little ass. Thus, he needed the concealer.
There, much better. No more cute Deadpool. Instead, here comes the newer—maybe better—version: Batpool. No, no. That didn't quite sound right. Deadman. O～kay, that was in no ways any better.
Batman 2.0 it is.
Time to search for his Robin 2.0.
He laughed, deep and dark and gave himself one last look in the mirror. "I'm Batman 2.0"
—V—V—
Robin 2.0 was just were he had thought he would be: making nests way up high and perching in them like the flightless bird he was. Currently crouched with his bow drawn tight, eyes focused in the distance; dressed in black combat gear.
Batman 2.0 allowed himself to take in the man for just a short moment before he sprung up against the wall and pushed upwards, flapping his arms like a bird. He didn't make it all the way up to the ledge that his Robin was crouched at, but that didn't matter because as he fell, he lassoed out with a high tensile rope that wrapped just beautifully around his target's ankle and pulling his flightless bird down with him. They both crumbled down upon the ground in a mess of limbs and rope. And he swore he felt his flightless bird try to choke him to death, but that must have been his imagination he decided as his world started going dark on the edges of his vision.
Naptime?
No, bad Deadpool, he told himself. Jerking awake and accidentally throwing the other man over himself and into the wall on the other side of the room. "Robin 2.0," he cried out and hurried to the other man's side. "There I was spacing out because I mixed up naptime and trick-or-treating, and you were trying to wake me because you didn't want to miss out on all the candy we will get and here I am throwing you around even though you were so worried. You're already turning out to be such a great side-kick. Don't worry, Robin 2.0, I'll take good care of you. First we just need to get you out of this horrible fashion choice of yours and into something more fitting."
He pealed his side-kick of the wall and dragged him by the arms down the hall as he spoke. Throwing faux worried glances over the downed man. "Everything will be alright."
—V—V—
Clint felt like a train wreck when he woke up. Memories of something hard and biting, twirling around his leg and the sensation of falling. Someone had pulled him down off his ledge while he had been practicing long distance shooting with the new arrows Tony had given him.
He sat up slowly, taking in the couch he was laying on and the incredibly bright lit room with far too many colors making up its decorations. He knew the room. It was one he tried avoiding like the plague it was. Deadpool's room.
As he tried to stand, he noticed that his clothes clung far tighter than they ever had done before, and an uncomfortable mask covered his eyes. He tugged on it and flinched as the delicate flesh around his eyes and even the hair on his head was being tugged on in turn. His stomach dropped as he realized that it had been glued on, and he swallowed nervously. Hands frantically searching for a clasp or anything that would allow him to tear it off and away from his face. There was none.
Horrified, he hurried towards the bathroom, shooting into the room with full force. He was met with bright primary colors. Tight red leotard looking outfit that had been placed over a pair of bright green tights. And fluttering from his shoulders was a short yellow cap that stopped just below his ribcage.
He'd been turned into some sort of clown. With a poorly made black mask that circled around his head and had oval slits cut open for him to see through.
"What the hell," he said to himself and tugged on his attire. He growled and gritted his teeth, meeting his enraged eyes in the mirror. "Deadpool."
Turning, he stalked out, hating the whoosh-y feeling of the cap scraping against him with every step and the way the tights bit into the delicate flesh of his groin area. "I'll kill you," he whispered quietly, seething.
"Oh, getting into character. Nice. We're gonna get so much candy," a man said, drawing out his words with a pleased tilt of his voice. A voice Clint knew very well. Though the outfit was different. All black for once with weird looking ears sticking up at the edge of a half mask that covered the man's head.
"Deadpool," he greeted, marching towards the man with murderous steps.
The man just lifted a finger tsking quietly. "I'm Batman 2.0, and you, my trusting little friend, is Robin 2.0"
He stopped in his tracks, confused. "Batman 2.0? Who the hell's Batman?"
"Ah," the still weirdly dressed man sighed dramatically. "You Marvel characters are missing out on so much. Never fear though, I am here, and I will teach you all you need to know to be a good side-kick."
"Side-kick?"
"Are we playing copycat or something?" Deadpool wondered. "Yes, side-kick. You are the Robin to my Batman."
"Why the fuck would I want to be that? Get me out of this stupid costume right now or I swear I'll fucking kill you."
"We all know that's a promise you can't keep, so I'm gonna say, no."
Clint felt that this had gone on long enough and launched himself at the other man, his hand slamming into the hard panzer-like chest plate with a loud thud. It stung like hell and he had to step back, nursing his hand. "What the…?"
Deadpool just tilted his half-covered head and tapped on his chest. "Oh, this. This is just some armor I got a hold of. I have to say the replica is just fantastic."
"Where did you get a hold of material like that?" Clint wondered, feeling that this was turning out to be much worst than just your everyday dress up.
"Oh, you know. I snuck down into the weapon's maker's lab and pillaged a few things. Nothing worth any value of course. Just a few things needed to make this Halloween a little extra special."
Clint stared horrified at the man. "you snuck down into Tony's lab?" Then he blinked and felt his mouth fall open. "All this for Halloween?"
"That's right, so let's get going. Night is fast approaching, and I demand lots of sweets before the night is done." Deadpool apparently now turned Batman, whirled around and marched his way over to the door that lead into the open area of this floor that would take him to the elevator. Clint was left standing alone in the room, mouth still agape and mind having gone into temporary shutdown.
After a while of standing there, he came back to Earth. Looking around the bright room and grimacing. He hurried after Batman. Catching up to him just as he was stepping into the elevator. "Get me out of this outfit," he growled and stepped on as well.
Batman blinked over at him and held up a sleek dark looking device in his left hand. "There can be no Batman without Robin, and as I refuse to dress up as anyone else for this Halloween you will be accompanying me while we go trick-or-treating. After that, maybe if I feel like it, I'll press this button and it will turn off the magnets keeping your clothes tightly shut."
He stared over at the device, contemplating if he could reach it if he attacked now, but he remembered the feeling of slamming into the black armor that encased the other man and thought better of it. He needed back up. "You want me to go trick-or-treating with you?"
Batman grinned and leaned over him, device disappearing into one of the many pockets that came with his outfit. "That's right."
Clint growled lowly at the pleased note in the man's voice. "In this outfit? You want me to die of embarrassment before we even get started?"
The darkly dressed man gasped, horrified and placed what was supposed to be a comforting hand upon Clint's shoulder. "Hey now, no need to go and diss yourself like that, Robin. I think you look wonderful. It shows off a certain package you've been hiding away from me." He felt heat rise in his face as he realized that the other man must have dressed him. "Don't think we won't talk about this later. I'm greatly displeased that you managed to hide such a wonderful thing all this time. Maybe later we can compare."
He flinched and shrugged out of the other man's hold. "Compare?" he gasped and felt himself unable to meet the other man's eyes.
"Yes. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
Clint shook his head frantically. "Fuck no! No freaking comparing. Ever. You better back away now or you'll be the one losing your package," he growled, feeling his anger quickly push away the embarrassment that he had felt upon the other man's words.
The elevator took that time to ding open, bringing both men's attention to the opening doors.
Batman clapped his hands gleefully and proceeded out. "Oh, goody. We are here. Show time, Robin."
—V—V—
Batman burst into the common area, voice low and gravely. "Trick-or-treat."
Natasha looked up from the book she was reading from and stared over at the two. Clint had never wanted to sink down into the ground and disappear more than he did at that moment. Watching his long-time friend's eyebrow rise up and disbelieving eyes roam over him.
"And what characters are you so supposed to be?" she wondered, closing her book and getting up.
"I'm Batman 2.0," the no longer Deadpool answered, far too proud. Clint just cringed and tried becoming part of the background. It didn't work because soon Natasha's eyes were on him.
"And you?"
Swallowing, he tried to plead to her with his eyes. "Natasha, ple—"
Batman's heavy hand landed on his shoulder and there was a glint in those light eyes that did not bode well for him. "My side-kick, Robin 2.0," he answered for him.
Natasha hummed. "Why the 2.0?"
Her question at least got Batman's attention away from him, which he was immensely grateful for.
"Oh, well we can't steal from the originals, now can we? So, we're the second version of their amazingness. This isn't just cosplay, we have embodied every fiber of their being and become them. In true Halloween style. Now then, feisty lady, trick-or-treat?"
She grinned and moved over to Clint, hand trailing up to feel along the mask that covered his eyes. Her light eyes carried the same glint that the infuriating Batman 2.0 also did. "Well, with this treat here before me, I can only give you a treat in return."
Batman whooped happily, voice rising to an amazing high pitch and Clint could image Deadpool before his eyes again. Childish clapping and a small happy jump later, Batman 2.0 was back, clearing his throat and straightening his back.
"Natasha, please get me out of this costume," Clint whispered, tugging on her arm sleeve to keep her close in hopes that Batman wouldn't catch his words.
She only smiled back at him and petted his cheek. "You deserve this," she whispered back and moved passed him. "I've got some candy for you, Batman, if you want?"
Batman nodded enthusiastically and held out his cupped hands. Natasha just laughed and walked over to one of the kitchen cabinets, taking out a whole bowl of candy, which she proceeded to dump into the man's waiting hands. Not that he seemed to mind, for he grinned widely and stored the candy away before a single one of the pieces even had time to hit the floor.
Clint just raised a brow in surprise and stared at Natasha with a hurtful look. That candy had been for all of them. She smiled back and leaned into his personal space placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. "That's for you for making my day," she said and made her way back to where she had left her book. "Do keep the outfit, I'm certain we can find other opportunities to use it."
God no, Clint thought with a shudder.
He stared down at the floor, noticing a trail of candy wrappers continuing into the shared quarters and disappearing down the stairs that lead to the labs. Part of him wished to take this opportunity and escape, but another part of him knew he had to get his hands on that controller. Hopefully, one of the other Avengers would be willing to be more helpful.
—V—V—
"Trick-or-treat!"
Bruce's head shot up at the loud voice, head connecting loudly with a metal corner of the desk he was currently under. Groaning, he rolled out and pushed up on his knees to stare over the desk at the two men who had so loudly made their way into the labs. He recognized Clint's form, but the outfit was one he thought he never would see the man in. A red leotard. The other man had to be Deadpool, currently dressed entirely in black armor looking clothing. A utility belt fastened tightly around his hips. Was he armed?
"Heya there, green guy," black Deadpool called out, voice raising and lower in pitch as if he was having problems keeping to character, whoever he was now trying to be.
"Um, what's going on?" he wondered and straightened completely, hands twisting together nervously.
"Can't ya see? We're trick-or-treating."
He looked over to Clint for confirmation, but the man refused to meet his eyes. Was he embarrassed? Why was he even dressed up? "Oh, okay."
Black Deadpool was soon leaning over the table before him, hands cupped in front of himself and head tilted, expected eyes zeroed in on Bruce. He stared at the hands confused, eyes once again straying over to where Clint was standing pulling on the leotard by his groin. It looked uncomfortable.
"Treat, good doctor, or would you rather prefer to get tricked?" Deadpool wondered, voice once again a deep raspy tone. Bruce wasn't sure how to handle this sort of situation. He'd never been a Halloween type of guy, but he knew well enough that you were supposed to give kids candy. Problem was he didn't have any.
"Treat," he answered hesitantly, staring around. Swallowing, he tried to figure out something to give the clearly deranged man before him. "What would you want?"
The man cocked his head and stared over his shoulder at Clint before turning back around. "That's not how this works."
"Sorry."
Black Deadpool just smiled, hand swiftly pulling something out from his belt. "No worries. I've been itching to try this one out."
Clint seemed to realize what was going on before him, because he raced across the room and threw himself upon the black dressed man with a shout. "No, don't!"
Heart racing, Bruce backed away, feeling his breath catch in his throat at the sudden intense rush of adrenaline. There was an uncomfortable feeling in the air and even though whatever Deadpool had pulled out hadn't been able to touch him, the man's eyes were still trained on him. Light and amused, lips twisted upwards. Clint was hanging on to his arm, pulling it backwards.
Was he in danger? Was there an attack?
The Hulk growled within him. Pounding angrily against his mindscape, demanding to be let out and released.
"I've heard you're hard to kill," Deadpool said, ignoring the fact that his shoulder was practically being pulled right off of him. "Makes me wonder, are you immortal just like me?"
Clint grunted. "Don't go testing your weird weapons on him just because you're curious. Jeez, are you trying to get us killed?"
"I can't die. And if I'm right, then neither can he. So, you can't blame us for your mortality. Go and get tested on if you're now so afraid," Deadpool answered. The man sniffed and tugged on his arm. "Robin, you're supposed to be on my side."
"This technically counts as being on your side as I'm trying to keep you from getting killed. You're Batman now, right? Which means not immortal."
Bruce watched their interaction with wide eyes. Trying to understand what was going on. It seemed at least like Deadpool wished to try out some sort of weapon on him to test his mortality. To test something on him.
He couldn't breathe. His heart beat loudly in his ears and there was a swooshing sort of sensation that was taking over him. Tested on. He didn't want to be tested on. No more tests.
He needed air. He needed to get out.
No more needles. No cage.
He needed to escape; needed to get out.
"Wow there, Dr. Banner. Bruce, can you hear me? Stay with me." A voice was speaking to him.
Whose voice?
"JARVIS, we've got a code green. I repeat code green."
There was roaring all around. Pain shooting up his limbs as he felt the Hulk try to take over. Try to push through and be in command.
"Bruce, you're in the lab. Your lab. Tony's lab. You've got to breath."
Someone was panicking. Panicking because of him, he realized. He had to calm down. Push the Hulk back down and stop the roaring that was echoing throughout his head.
"You're okay. Deadpool, that ass, he's already left. Was satisfied the moment he saw you start turning. There is no more trick-or-treat, so just calmed down."
It was Clint's voice. He sounded strained.
Slowly, the world was coming back to him. His heart still beat like a humming bird and pounded away in his ears, but he could see before him now. Could see that his desk had been over turned and that Clint was crouched before him. Still in his silly outfit. He remembered Halloween and that they were trick-or-treating. "I'm okay," he whispered, throat feeling strained and tired, like he had been shouting.
"You sure? Shit, you gave me a real scare. JARVIS has locked down the labs and all the more delicate things have been moved away."
Bruce nodded and continued taking deep breaths. "Good."
"I should probably get going. The asshole's got the device that can open this outfit. I refuse to spend the whole day in this."
He agreed. He also would not wish to be seen or actually have to wear something as bright and tight as what was currently stuck to Clint. "Um, Tony might have a spare of those devices if he acquired it here somewhere. Sounds a little like something Tony uses to keep his armor locked."
Clint grinned happily and gave him one last pat and check before hurrying out of the lab.
Bruce was left alone, confused as to what had happened. But he didn't have time for this, he'd been trying to get that cable fixed that was under the desk. Now that the desk was overturned, he realized all the cables had been ripped out and he groaned in frustration.
—V—V—
Batman 2.0 skipped happily down the hall. "I got to see the hulk," he sang over and over to himself. He hadn't technically seen the whole Hulk, but he had seen the eyes. The eyes of the Hulk staring back at him, angry and green. Honestly, it was a dream come true. The angriest beast alive had stared at him, made eye contact and wanted to kill him. That must be fate putting them together, and hopefully, one day, they'll meet for real and he'll get to see the beast in all its green glory.
For now, though, he was making his way to the gym. Even from this distance he could make out the rhythmic pounding of fist against punching bag. Captain America was waiting, and Batman was jittery with thoughts of how this would turn out.
He wanted to slam open the door like he had done all the others. Sadly, the gym door was sliding one and opened by JARVIS. So, he took a running leap and rushed into the room. "Trick-or-treat," he shouted at the top of his voice, eyes immediately finding the captain. Then, he landed wrong, tripped and face-planted right into the ground.
His foot ached enormously from the harsh twist it received upon landing wrong, but he barely thought of it. His eyes and brain too busy taking in the half-dressed man before him.
"Dear heaven, you've sent an angel to me for Halloween." He swallowed, stuttered a little and bounced back on his feet. The captain looked confused, he'd stepped away from the punching bag and now stood on guard facing him.
Batman cleared his throat and tried not to swoon. "I'm Batman 2.0," he said in his deepest voice.
"I'm Steve Rogers," the captain answered, and Batman knew he'd just lost the war on sexiest voice alive. But there was no such thing as masculinity when faced with the perfection of America's greatest captain. Especially, when faced with him being half-naked, sweaty chest heaving and blood vessels popping. And thus, he really couldn't feel that embarrassed for his lack in some areas. If anything, he was thanking all the Gods for granting him this opportunity. "Can I help you? You said, trick-or-treat. Are you dressing up for Halloween? I'm sorry I don't have any candy."
His throat was dry, everything felt rather dry… and hot. Definitely hot. Like he needed to shed a few layers. "Oh, Captain. I think you definitely have candy. Eye-candy that is."
The captain had an adorably confused look on his face. It made him want to run his hands through his hair and tell him that everything would be alright. Maybe, sit himself in the man's lap and just enjoy the feeling of those arms around him. Yeah, that would definitely be nice.
"Eye-candy? I've never heard of that. Is it a popular candy nowadays?" the captain wondered, chest still heaving slightly from his previous exertion. All which Batman 2.0 was taking in with sharp eyes and filing away to be used later during his shower. It'd be a long shower; most likely very steamy.
"Oh, yeah. Definitely very popular." He moved forward, wishing he had less armor on so that he could actually touch upon this perfection. "What say you, we cut Halloween short and move right along to Christmas? Cause I can think of some presents I'd like to open."
"I do not understand what Christmas has to do with this eye-candy you were talking about?"
Batman laughed at that, lifting his hand when he got close enough to trail over the other man's chest. The captain tensed but didn't stop him, though his eyes had become more focused. Less confused.
"You see, Batman is someone who punishes naughty people. And right now, I really want to punish someone naughty," he said, leaning up and breathing into the captain's face. He was rather impressed that the man didn't so much as shift in place.
He did tense though on the word "naughty", eyes hardening and jaw tightening up.
"What do you mean? Who's been naughty?"
Chuckling, he trailed his hand up the defined jaw before him, meeting those baby blue eyes that stared down at him. Eyes that didn't back down one inch during his advances. "You of course, Captain. You've been a very naughty boy and need to be punished."
This time, the captain captured his trailing hand, forcing it away from his face. "If you want to spar, then let's spar. If you want candy, it's in the common area's kitchen." The grip tightened, and he used it to push the man who was invading his private space away.
Batman straightened, bringing his hand up to lick at his fingertips; tasting the sweet sweat of the man before him. "I'll take this as your treat. Let's play again later. Until then, don't get dressed," he said, and reluctantly made his way out of the room.
Maybe lingering a little longer than absolutely necessary by the doors.
—V—V—
The recently dubbed Robin 2.0 was panicking. He'd managed to lose track of the guy who held the key to getting him out of this outfit. Walking passed Natasha again in it had been hell. She'd waved and smiled, and he had thought of all the possible ways he would be willing to allow himself to die.
The candy wrapper trail had stopped in one of the long hallways that could practically lead to anywhere. "JARVIS, status?"
"Mr. Wilson and Mr. Wilson can both be found in the third hall to your left, Mr. Barton," the AI answered.
Robin looked up at the nearest camera before the words registered. "Oh, Falcon is here?"
"Indeed."
Hurrying, he jogged his way down the hall. Gliding passed the last corner and coming to a dumbfounded stop. Sam Wilson, the Falcon, was hanging upside down from the ceiling, duct tape covering his mouth. Batman stood just in front of him, eating another candy and letting the wrapper fall carelessly to the ground.
"You look good like that, little birdy. All trussed up. Refusing to give me candy."
"Sam!" he called out, making his way over, taking in the destruction of the hallway. There was glitter everywhere as well as long, deep jagged marks running the length of both walls. Clearly a fight had taken place and it looked like Sam had lost.
Sam's eyes widened upon seeing him, and he froze in place remember the outfit he was wearing. An excuse just at the tip of his tongue.
"Ah, my trusty side-kick, Robin. Coming at the right time," Batman said, smacking his hand happily into the abdomen of the tied-up Sam. Sam's eyes narrowed upon his words, and Robin could practically feel the accusation coming from him. He held up his hands and took a hesitant step back.
"Wow there, I've got nothing to do with this guy, I swear. He's the own that forced me into this outfit and now I can't get out of it."
Batman frowned and pushed on Sam making him sway back and forth. "Don't be like that, Robin. What did I tell you? It looks fantastic on you. Real sexy."
"Thanks, but no thanks," he growled, and winched in sympathy for Sam who was currently swaying back and forth and being twirled around over and over again. "Um, maybe let him go. He looks like he's about to be sick."
Batman stopped and took in his victim, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "He asked for a trick, so I gave him one. I'm sure he's enjoying it."
Robin really wasn't too sure about that. Sam seemed to be trying to bite through the duct tape and was glaring venomously at the two of them each time his swing brought him around in their direction. And he had a feeling Sam wouldn't be so forgiving about this slight against him. A war would most likely ensue. A pranking war. One that Robin really didn't sign up for, but one he feels he had just been dragged into.
"If you're done tricking him, I will be letting him down now," he said, hoping that by being the one to let the other man down that the hostility against him would lessen some.
Batman didn't seem to care and was already on his way out, whistling happily.
Releasing a heavy sigh, Robin made his way cautiously over, cutting the ropes but allowing Sam to pull the duct tape of himself. Which the man ripped off in one go, teeth bared.
"You're so dead, Barton. So dead," he seethed.
Laughing nervously, he backed up. Feeling very aware of the fact that he carried no weapons and would have to fight with tights that dug uncomfortably into his groin. "How about you direct that anger to the rightful owner of it, Deadpool. I swear, I had nothing to do with this. I'm as much a victim here as you—"
"A victim," the man hissed and advanced. "Oh, I'll show you a victim alright." With that he threw himself at Robin, sending them both sprawling to the floor and Robin's tights to glide higher up his ass and press harshly against sensitive nerves. He twitched and shook his legs in discomfort, while at the same time, trying to throw the soldier off him.
"I can prov to you I'm a victim," Robin tried, catching a fist that was sent flying at his face.
"No need, Barton. Once I'm done with you, you'll definitely be a victim. Then, I'll go after that little red shit that's been mucking things up for me. And I'll make him a victim as well."
"Those aren't the words of someone fighting on the good side," he added in with a grunt.
After that, there wasn't so much time for talking. He was busy running for his life. Having no interest in being pummeled into the ground while in red leotard and tights. Once he found his bow, there would be payback coming Sam's way.
That he promised.
—V—V—
He had finally arrived at the last floor of his lovely flat mates. Or would it be tower mates? Either way, they were all lovely. Full of energy and absolute adorableness. He could croon at them all day. Truly, of all his choices in life, coming to this tower was a highlight. He could pat himself on the back for making such a good decision. Clearly, he was a loved teammate for all of them and he was fitting right in. What a beautiful friendship it was that had bloomed between them. Like family. And if there was one thing Dea—Batman loved, it was family. They would celebrate all the holidays together. First Halloween, then thanksgiving, then Christmas. He was sure they could even take in some holidays from other countries just for that extra family time.
The thought made him jittery. Or maybe that was the candy. Either way, he felt like he was walking on cloud nine of elation.
"Trick-or-treat, my little weapon's maker," he called out, voice breaking unnaturally like a pubescent boy.
The weapon's maker was standing in the middle of his high-tech lab. Hands tapping away on a holographic screen before him. He stared over with doe-brown eyes, and Batman felt something melt inside of him at the look as well as the disoriented hair of someone who hadn't slept in days.
"Um, J. Security breach," the man said, reaching for something on the counter behind him.
"Apologies, sir. Ms. Romanoff told me to let him through."
The man blinked and wetted his lips, all actions which Batman took in with an intent look, eyes trained on the tongue that peaked out. "Romanoff did? Right, and this is supposed to be what exactly?"
Rolling his shoulders and clearing his throat, Batman proceeded into the room, straight for the man in the center. "I'm Batman 2.0."
"O-kay," the weapon's maker drawled and rolled his eyes. "Consulting hours are between 9 to 5 every other Thursday."
"Trick-or-treat."
The man looked perplexed at the words. "You seriously want me to answer that?"
Batman just tilted his head, feeling a smile pulling on his lips. "Guess that's up to you. We can always to do a trick otherwise."
"Uh-huh." The weapon's maker narrowed his eyes. "Is that metal for my armor? Where you in my lab?"
There was a whirling noise and red gauntlets went flying in mechanic's direction, fastening themselves on his hands and encasing them with armor up to his elbows. Batman took it all in, excitement thrumming through him. "And if I was, what are you gonna do about it?" he wondered, loosening the throwing knives he had that were shaped like Batman's symbol. Twirling one in his left hand, while he waited for the other man to make the first move.
"Yeah, that's it. I don't care if SHIELD wants you alive, or that they want you to stay in my Tower. I'm taking you down."
"Trick it is," Batman mumbled, dodging to the side of a beam that shot passed him and blew a hole in the metal wall behind him. Throwing two of the Batman shaped knives, he watched them sail passed the man on either side and with a push of a button activated the electrical conductivity between the two. Feeling pleased with himself as the weapon's maker jerked in surprise as electricity shot through him, causing his hair to stand even higher.
He was about to move forward when he felt something cold and metallic grasp around his neck. The weapon's maker was smiling, both hands trained on him. "You think you can fight me in my workshop? By the way, nice grip Dum-E, I might just promote you to head of security."
"I would be highly against that, sir," the AI, JARVIS, added in.
Rolling his eyes, he didn't move away from the grip, but his right hand was busy typing into the screen on his right. "Yeah, I didn't come here for a fight. Though, I definitely wouldn't mind one. I was just hoping you'd go for the trick. You see, I didn't just sneak in here to take material for my outfit, I planted something fun in your computer system." With a last press, the speakers blared on.
～This is Halloween, this is Halloween
Pumpkins scream in the dead of night
This is Halloween, everybody make a scene
Trick or treat till the neighbors gonna die of fright～
"What's that? Turn it off."
Batman laughed and continued pressing buttons. Watching gleefully as small pumpkins were popping up on all the screens in the room and dancing to the music.
The weapon's maker looked horrified. "JARVIS, what's going on, buddy?"
"I'm sorry, sir. My protocol seems to have been overwritten. I need to…" His voice was fading in and out and then there was only static.
The man lunged at Batman, red gauntlet taking the place of the other metal apparatus that had held him in place, forcing him down against one of the cold workbenches. He felt his breathing be constrained, but as he was immortal it really didn't bother him all that much. The look on the other man's face though, was absolutely glorious. He was happy he had thought of hijacking the speaker system and installing the pumpkin virus.
"You bring JARVIS back right now!"
Batman felt that now would be a good time to retreat. He had done what he came down here for: placing the tower in Halloween mode. And he had no interest to spend the rest of the day re-growing limbs. With that thought in mind, he kicked out hard and brought another electrical conducting Batman marker out and stuck it into the man's unprotected side. Taking only a second to enjoy the downed man before racing out of the room, being forced to press the actual button in the elevator this time as the AI was also down for the count.
Which the AI deserves for being unable to give him candy. Much like his adorable and annoying mother, who was now advancing on him as the doors were shutting.
He sent one last fluttery wave of his fingers as goodbye before the metal clung shut and the growling insults of the mechanic were cut off.
—V—V—
The music was loud. Robin covered his ears and groaned in pain. What was going on? It wasn't like Tony to be blasting music in the whole tower, and what was with all the pumpkins that kept popping up on every single screen he passed. God, this day was turning out to be awful. He was still running from Sam and he had yet to get ahold of the device for the costume.
He burst into Tony's workshop. The last man that could hopefully save him. "Stark, I need your help." The words sort of caught on his tongue as he took in the destruction of the room before him. There was a hole going through one of the walls and tables had been over turned and there was a large burn mark against another wall which also contained a cracked monitor screen.
"Um…"
The mechanic turned to him as he raced in. Hair standing up in all directions and eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Don't you dare say, trick-or-treat," the man hissed, waving a screwdriver in Robin's direction.
He held up his hands, mouth twitching up into what he hoped was a calming smile. "No. I swear, I'm not here for that."
"Compromising JARVIS and this whole tower's security for a Halloween prank," the man growled, apparently not listening at all to Robin. "You want to play so badly, why don't I give you something sweet?" The man lifted a heavy looking iron bar and advanced on Robin, who backed up but refused to flee. He needed the help after all. "Sweet dreams, that is."
"What, you're misunderstanding." He waved his arms helplessly in front of him, trying to stop the advances of the man. "I just need—"
He didn't get the chance to finish. Tony was already swinging the long piece of iron at him and he was dodging with all his life again. Racing around the room.
"I just need help!" he shouted helplessly. His words bouncing around the workshop but falling on deaf ears. Everything around him seemed to have come to life with the intent of pummeling him into sweet dreams. And a small part of him kind of wished for it, so he could avoid further embarrassment and just forget that this day had ever happened.
All the while he was racing about, avoiding metal bars and grasping metal hands and jumping over high energy beams. The music kept blasting on.
～In this town we call home
Everyone hail to the pumpkin song
La la la la la la la la la la (Halloween! Halloween!)
La la la la la la la la la la (Halloween! Halloween!) ～
Thanks for reading!
Song is called This is Halloween.