The scene you've all been waiting for! I like how it turned out, even if it's not how I imagined it going in my head. This chapter is also important because this starts the end of the first 'arc' of the story if you can call it that since it's nearly a hundred thousand words long. The next arc is going to be a little more serious in nature because it starts to deal with more serious crimes as the gang war begins winding down and the aftermath of it. Peter is going to be settling in and deal with a whole new set of problems, most of which he will bring onto himself. However, I think you all will enjoy it even if it's a little bit darker and mature in nature. And I promise you right now, I'm not going to go all edgy. I tried that in pervious stories that will never be published ever and the cringe is real when I look back on them.
In other news, I'm looking for a beta. I just don't have enough time to give my story the spell check it needs and Grammarly isn't catching things like missing words or awkward phrasing. If you're interested, shoot me a PM.
...
James Gordon glanced at the cigarette in between his fingers and saw it a long trail of ash. He had frowned for a moment before he let out a sigh as he extinguished it in the ash tray, stacking it on top of the dozen others. Gordon hadn't even smoked any of it. He lite it out of reflex and got lost in his thoughts.
Renee hadn't been kidding when she said half of the department was being brought in on charges. They ranged from police brutality to planting evidence to working for the people that their job was to arrest. For better or worse, some of the cops that were incriminated were already dead due to the gang war, but there was more than a few that were being marched out of his building in handcuffs. More than he was comfortable with.
Corruption was a problem that had always plagued Gotham's police. However, Gordon thought he had a handle on it. Gordon knew there were a few that he missed when he was cleaning house, and he was aware that there would be a few that would flip. In a city like Gotham, he'd have to be an idiot not to expect it. He had his inner circle, the ones he knew and trusted, but everyone else?
Well, Batman wasn't the only one with trust issues in this city.
Unfortunately, he had been wrong. Those few crooked cops he tried to weed out weren't a few. They had multiplied and spread and infected until half of his department, and an entire squad of SWAT had to be marched out in handcuffs. They were going to prison, too much evidence for anything else to happen.
The timing couldn't be fucking worse but, in the end, Gordon was almost happy that they were gone. They didn't deserve the badges they wore, and they were worse than the criminals they arrested. He could finally know for certain that the officer he was talking to wasn't going to report his every word to a crime boss or Black Mask. He didn't have to worry that his every operation was going to be compromised before it could even begin because of a leak.
Gordon always saw himself as a realist, but that saying 'everything will go wrong when it's least convenient' had so much truth in it that it hurt. It seemed he need to look into becoming a pessimist so that he wouldn't be blindsided when everything did go wrong because it always did.
Because, not only did he loose half of his department when he needed every single man and woman, but they had found out in the worst possible way. Some punk named Anarky uploaded the evidence to the internet and everyone saw it. Well, not yet but it was well on it's way to being one of the most viewed videos. The PR team was tearing their hair out, trying to do damage control but Gordon honestly didn't know why they were trying.
There wasn't any way to keep this quite, not when it was already being shoved in everyone's faces. The police shat the bed, and the kid was waving their dirty sheets to anyone that would look. Gordon didn't like it, especially when it painted the entire department in a bad light, but he could hardly complain when he let the house get so dirty again.
His work phone started ringing again, almost like clockwork, but he ignored it in favor of throwing on his coat. He walked out the door, a decision heavy on his mind, and. As expected, Renee fell in step behind.
"What are we going to do, sir," Renee asked after a moment of silence. The office was practically empty already, the remaining police already in position to act on the information that Batman sent them. The only sounds now were their footsteps and the low murmuring from the paparazzi outside. Apparently, the war on the streets wasn't enough to stop them from doing his job. While it was still his job.
That wasn't the question she should be asking. It should be, what could they do? The military stepping in would be disastrous. The Justice League stepping in would be disastrous. Him doing nothing would be disastrous. Gordon was backed into a corner, but if he failed it wouldn't be him that paid the price. It would be the citizens of Gotham.
"I need to have a talk with Batman," Gordon said in a grave tone, feeling a decade older than he was.
...
"I have it all. For hand-helds', I have everything from revolvers to nine millimeters to the good, trusty, desert eagle. Shotguns too, you want a sawed off? I have 'em. Pump action? I got it. Tactical grade military shit that will knock off your shoulder with a never ending barrel drum? I have that," the gun dealer said with enthusiasm, clapping his hands together as a cocky smile spread from ear to ear. He stood in front of a van, though the three gang leaders could still see all the hardware inside.
"You want rifles? Take your pick! Single shot bolt actions, semi-automatics or fully automatic. I have it all man, and I guarantee that it's all top of the line quality." The gun dealer said, picking up weapons of each class and throwing them at the gangsters in front of him.
The three men gave the weapons a look over, aiming them and fiddling with the magazines and pulling the slots. They seemed impressed, sharing looks, which made the gun dealer grin smile grow.
"This is a once and a lifetime opportunity! These are military grade weapons, whole goddamn leagues ahead of the peashooter your competition has! Think about it guys, the big shots of Gotham are behind bars, their territory is just begging to be snatched up," he said, earning nods from the gangsters. That was why they were here, but hearing it said got their blood moving.
"And you guys are smart. That's why you're here! You see the opportunity; you know that you aren't the only ones who see it, so you came to me to buy an unholy amount of hardware to show those upstart pricks that you're the new bosses of Gotham; am I right or am I right?" The gun dealer cheered, earning more enthusiastic nods from the gangsters. They gripped their weapons tighter, wanting to give them a try.
"But before all of that, before your ascension to the tippy-top of the food chain, you have to buy your ticket," he said, pulling the weapons from the gangster's hands. They didn't seem to like that.
"How much we talkin'," one asked, gesturing for one of his lackeys to step forward.
"Depends on what you want," the gun dealer said, holding his hand out wide.
The three gangsters traded looks before turning back to the gun dealer, "all of it." They said at once.
"Hmmm, that should tally up to about-" the gun dealer began, but he never got to announce his price. A web covered his mouth before six other webs, one for each gangster and their muscle, attached themselves to their backs before pulling them upwards. All of them let surprised shouts, going for the weapons they carried in case the deal went south, but as they rose to the rafter a hand wrenched the weapons from their hands.
After webbing the guns together, Peter dropped down to the dust covered floor with a plum of smoke, swinging the guns attached to the web like a yo-yo. The gun dealer fell backward, trying to pull the sticky mask off his face before he suffocated, and looked at Spider-man with fearful eyes.
"Okay, I tried coming up with a witty one-liner; something about guns and shooting your eye out, but, eh, I couldn't make it work," Peter explained as he lifted the man to his feet, his hands still attached to his face, with one arm. "Now, I'm going to undo that new look you have going on for you, and if the first words I hear aren't where you got these shiny new guns, I'll be very disappointed." The man nodded his head yes so fast that Peter worried that he might whiplash.
A quick spurt of dissolver later and the gun dealer was gasping for breath. Spider-man let him get a few mouthfuls before he gave him a playful pat on the cheek, reminding him that he wasn't alone.
"I don't know," the gun dealer exclaimed, sucking down gulps of air. Even though he was aware that the gun dealer couldn't see it, Peter rose an eyebrow in disbelief.
"You don't know? I doubt that a van full of guns just fell from the sky into your lap," he sarcastically. "Though, this is Gotham, so maybe that is a possibility," he added with a shrug. It seemed like this city was actively trying to tear itself apart so maybe it wasn't so crazy.
"No! No! I-I was some two-bit dealer in Crime Alley, nothing serious! Just some pot, you know? I don't mess with that heavy shit," the gun dealer quickly forced out and Peter just stared at him for a moment before he very slowly turned his head to look at a van full of guns.
Boxes upon boxes of ammo and enough high powered guns to give Frank Castle a wet dream.
Then, just as slowly, he looked back at the gun dealer. As if he could see his disbelieving look, the gun dealer let out a shaky laugh.
"Yeah, I, uh...look, man, I was dealing some pot when some asshole in a suit came up to me. Asked me if I wanted to make some real money instead of a couple of bucks. I said yeah, 'cuz I figured why not and he showed me the van! I asked him what the deal was and he told me just to sell the guns! Didn't matter to who or for how much, just that I sold them and I got to keep half the profits," the gun dealer explained and Peter felt a sinking feeling form in his gut.
If he was telling the truth, and his heartbeat told Peter that he was, then making money wasn't the goal of the people who gave him the van. It would cost too much for no payoff unless they were going to kill the guy afterward but, even then, there were a lot easier methods of selling illegal weapons. They were jumping through unnecessary hoops and selling at a loss, especially considering that one of these guns could have been sold for what the three gangsters could afford put together.
No, money wasn't the goal.
'They want to make the gang war worse?' Peter deduced, his brain furiously thinking of what they, whoever they were, could hope to achieve. Most people were stupid. Some people were dangerous. Put a gun in their hand, and then they're both. To themselves and others.
Gun like these would...there were grenades and heavy duty machine guns. Half of the guns he couldn't even recognize, but they looked like they could do some serious damage. He saw bullets bigger than his fingers in a box, and he didn't even want to know what fired them. It was bad enough with a bunch of criminals shooting at each other with pistols and the occasional assault rifle. Guns like these would turn the city from a war zone into a blood bath.
"It could be the bay water, but something smells fishy about this. Somebody's scheming something~," Catwoman said in a sing-song tone as she pulled out a pair of fuzzy handcuffs and began slapping them on one of the criminals she took down.
Peter nodded, "any idea who?" He asked, knowing that Catwoman would know the criminal underworld in Gotham better than he ever could. Catwoman shrugged as she pulled out another pair of handcuffs from her seemingly endless pouch on her belt.
"No, but they want to pour gas on the already burning city. This doesn't fit the M.O of anyone that I know, well," she paused before inclining her head at him. "Anyone that's out of Arkham, but I know that a lot of people don't want the gang war to end. We're all busy with the loud stuff, so the quite white collar criminals are just raking it in since the pressure is off of them. It could be one of them, or it could be a big player from out of town moving in."
"And they're using the guns to soften the city up?" Peter guessed, trying to puzzle out what was the end goal of this plan. It was difficult because it wasn't one of his usual villains plotting. After fighting against them for so much time, he could easily slip into their shoes and think of their goals, but he didn't even know who's shoes he was trying to put on.
"As good of a guess as any," Catwoman said with another shrug. That's what she said, but a good guess wasn't what they needed. They needed answers, and they needed them now. They came by this gun deal purely by chance, if they had missed-
"Are you the only one?" Peter asked suddenly, turning his attention back to the gun dealer, who was trying his best to disappear. A look of panic passed over his sunken in features before he shrugged almost apologetically with twinges of fear. He had forgotten how intimidating the black and white suit was because the guy was tensing up, expecting to get hit. Peter couldn't say he was enthused with the color scheme, but he didn't feel cold at all. Well, he could, but it didn't cut through him like it did before. What the suit was made of was a mystery he was going to solve because it was awesome. And it explained how Catwoman could have most of her cleavage exposed and not be freezing all of the time.
"I don't know..? Look, man, I'm sorry, but I didn't ask any questions. I just took the keys and put out some feelers for a buyer. I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, you know?" He said, shifting uneasily underneath his featureless gaze, only his own nervous expression looking right back at him.
Peter was frowning beneath his mask, and he went to tap on his ear bud to inform Buttlerman what was happening, but when he did he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Shining like a beacon in the dark night, a bat emblem was splayed out on the clouds heavy with snow.
"I know you're thinking that you'll just stop by, have a quick chat then get right back out there but that's not how Batman does things. You'll go there, one of you will start a pissing contest, and then you'll fight. That's how it always goes down with you heroes," Catwoman explained in a knowing tone.
"It'll be all right," Peter dismissed, knowing better than to argue that they wouldn't fight. It seemed to be some kind of tradition for superheroes. It always happened in New York, like with Daredevil and Luke Cage, so he wasn't going to lie and say it couldn't happen. It also didn't seem promising when Catwoman described Batman as a control freak.
"He just wants to make sure I'm not a super villain or anything. And it's not like he's going to fight me where there's so much going on, right?" Peter said though it came out more like a question. Catwoman huffed at that, and he didn't need to see her to know that she rolled her eyes.
"Plus, half of the cops in the city were just canned. Things were bad enough before, now we have fewer cops on the streets and the criminals are stepping up their armory," Peter said, picking up one of the guns scattered on the floor. He gave it a quick look over before he threw it into the van with all the others.
"It's a bad idea," Catwoman warned again, cocking her hip. "By all means, go, but I'm reserving the right to say that I told you so when Batman lets you go." Well, when she said it like that, it almost sounded like a bad idea.
"Fine, but don't rub my face in it. That's just rude," Peter said with a sigh, not knowing if she was right. Who was he kidding? She totally was, but it needed to be done anyway. It was bad manners to operate in a heroes city without introducing yourself after so much time.
"Your funeral. Go ahead and hand over the earbud and I'll let Buttlerman know about the guns. Enjoy your 'talk' with Batman," Catwoman said, throwing up air quotes around talk. Peter frowned before he pulled out the ear bud and tossed it over. He didn't argue in favor for swinging away towards the bat signal because he didn't have a leg to stand on.
"This is going to suck."
…..
"You got here fast," Gordon commented, hearing the light ruffling of Batman's cape. It had been purely intentional of course. Both to make sure he stayed sharp and because Gordon had nearly put a bullet in Batman's head once when he just appeared behind him without any warning, as he does.
"I was already on my way," Batman said, standing next to the bat signal. The stray light from the side of the flood light only illuminated a part of his head and chest, leaving the rest of him shrouded in darkness. That got Gordon to nod, figuring that had to be true as he pulled out his pack of cigarettes, only to scowl when he saw it was empty.
"The house got dirty again," Batman said, starting the conversation that Gordon called him out for. A frown etched itself into Gordon's features before he let out a long, exhausted sigh as he pushed up his glasses to rub his bloodshot eyes.
"Try filthy. I'm down to half of my number of people, and some of them are injured. I have reinforcements coming in from Metropolis and Central city, but they're not going to be ready for this. SWAT took a hit too; I'm down a team because they were moonlighting as a hit squad for drug lords and another because of injuries," Gordon said, the words just falling out of his mouth and each one made him feel older and older.
"And you're under investigation," Batman added, making Gordon sigh. They both knew that report would come back squeaky clean on him, but half of the police department had been arrested on numerous charges. This was the exact same reason that he had been made Police Commissioner over a decade ago.
"Yeah. That too," Gordon agreed. "I'm going to cut to the chase since we both have a lot to do. Can you handle this with what the police have left to offer?"
"No," Batman replied instantly. Every member of the Bat family was highly trained and well equipped, but they just lacked the numbers to fully cover a city like Gotham. It was just too big with too much going on.
"And if you coordinated with Spider-man and *huff* Catwoman?" Gordon asked, and Batman frowned ever so slightly.
"We have, to a degree. Hmph, Butlerman has been focusing them on medium priority crimes, but they don't have a patrol," Batman added, and Gordon opened his mouth, wanting to know who in the hell Butlerman was, but he thought better of it. There was a time for a question like that and time wasn't something they had.
"And if you worked something out? I don't know the kid, but he seemed too earnest to be an agent for whatever ancient secret society that you've been fighting," Gordon said with confidence, making Batman's frown deepen.
"Possibly. Spider-man has talent, but he's reckless. He's actively targeting high profile criminals when he's only been active for a few days. His entire fighting style is...messy. Without his enhanced reflexes or fighting against someone who has similar reflexes, he would lose every time."
"He stopped the Joker," Gordon pointed out.
"A fluke. Joker didn't know of him and hadn't accounted for his appearance or abilities. If he had then, Spider-man would have died," Batman rebuked bluntly. "Now Spider-man's a known entity, and he's going to be treated as such. If he keeps aiming for super villains, his career will be short-lived," Batman declared, and Gordon narrowed his eyes lightly. That seemed a little harsh, but he would never claim to know more about superpowers than Batman.
"Umm, ouch," said a third voice off to the side. Gordon looked over and saw it was Spider-man. His arms were crossed, and everything about his posture screamed that he was very much annoyed with Batman's assessment of him.
"Didn't your parent every tell you that it's rude to talk about people behind their backs?" Spider-man questioned and uncrossed his arms when Batman turned to face him.
"I'm more than willing to tell you to your face," Batman responded instantly, and Peter's eyes narrowed.
"You...that was banter," Peter said, sounding surprised. "I figured you'd do the whole 'I'm Batman, and I brood in dark corners' thing. Huh...I guess not all surprises are bad," he said, sounding amused. The guy did strike him as the sullen type, more so than he had been expecting.
There was only one clear picture of Batman in existence. It was just over a decade ago when the Justice League had just been formed, and the founding members shook hands with the leaders of the world. He was standing next to the president of the United States, dwarfing her, and Batman all but glared into the camera. There were other pictures, but they were a lot like the ones of Spider-man before Peter started taking selfies. They were blurs; shadow figures obscured in the darkness that you weren't sure if anything was actually there.
That picture hadn't prepared Peter for seeing him in the flesh.
They were nearly the same height, with Batman only being an inch taller, or two if you counted his ear things, but he seemed larger. He was decked out in black and gray, with an odd splash of yellow around the bat emblem displayed across his chest and his utility belt. However, Batman had an aura of power and authority that Peter just lacked and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't intimidated. Dark and foreboding described the Dark Knight perfectly.
His most notable feature, however, was his glare. Which was aimed directly at him.
"Why are you here," Batman demanded.
"Because you sent Nightwing after me so we could have a chat. You don't strike me as the giving up type, so I'd figure I'd come to you before you sent the whole Bat-family after me." Peter replied, doing his best to hide that he was tensed and ready to fight. Diplomacy didn't seem like this guy's forte.
Batman stared at him for a long moment, as if he was trying to look through him and see his every thought. Right when Peter was going to say something to break the silence, Batman spoke.
"Nightwing is vouching for you," Batman said gruffly, surprising Peter with that fact. Last he checked, Nightwing had bugged him because he hadn't trusted him. "I don't trust you. You're an unknown in a time of crisis and Gotham can't afford for me to give you the benefit of the doubt. However, this can be rectified," Batman said with a pause. Peter thought he saw his sigh, but he honestly wasn't sure. Batman's body language never shifted away from 'ready to fight, ' and any emotion in his voice was masked by the fact it sounded like gravel.
"Reveal your secret identity to me, and after I perform a background check and I'm certain that you don't have criminal ties, I will do the same for you. Then you will join my team and work with us in a more effective manner than you have. You'll have access to significantly better technology, and I can train you on how to use your superhuman abilities." Batman said, and Peter was left speechless.
That...he hadn't expected that.
"No," Peter heard himself say. His secret identity...that was off limits. He almost had a panic attack when Leslie found out, and it was his greatest fear for damn good reason. Maybe Peter would have gone with the deal since he didn't have anything to hide and it would be the easiest way to clear up any misunderstandings. Maybe he would have because he'd get significantly better tech and the prospect of learning how to fight properly was appealing. Maybe he would have if it wasn't for what happened...what happened to Gwen.
Peter felt his heart throb painfully against his ribs but with practiced ease, he swallowed his agony. Gwen was killed because she knew his secret identity and because she could bring herself to stay back. It wasn't the same Batman was a trained superhero, and he could take care of himself, but that didn't mean anything to the fear. All it cared about was the fact that Gwen was killed-...murdered because she knew who he was.
No one could know who he was beneath this mask. For their own good.
"My secret identity is off limits. Could we work something else out? I'm not too big on teams, but I'll join if it's for the best," he said, knowing it was pointless when he saw Batman's eyes narrow.
"No. Not when all of Penguins assets were liquefied and vanished, you're in a new suit, and you refuse to reveal yourself. Definitely not when it's far too convenient that you appear when after the Joker's botched scheme. I want to believe that you are who you say you are and Gotham...needs more heroes, but I can't risk it. Not with so much on the line." Batman said, and Peter straightened out, taking a bracing breath because he knew what was about to be said.
"I'm taking you in."
Peter hastily dodged the batarangs that were thrown his way, ducking and flipping over two of them while the third lagged behind. As he landed on his feet, prepared to dodge the third one, it exploded in a flash of light.
Peter's eyes stung behind the flash bang, the reflective lenses not doing enough to shield him from the blast completely. His eyes watered and for a moment, Peter clenched them shut to get rid of the white haze. In that instant, his spidey-sense tingled sharply, warning him of danger that was coming to the left.
Thinking that it had to be another batarang since Batman was across the building, so he leaned out of the way. He felt the wind pass him by and he realized that his spidey-sense was still tingling a moment too late when something struck him across the face. Peter felt his teeth rattle and blood was quick to fill his mouth as his head was snapped to the side. It felt like he was punched by the Lizard.
Peter was knocked to the side from the force of the blow, but he was far from out. He lashed out with a roundhouse kick that hit something solid. When he felt something grab his ankle, Peter knew it was Batman and kicked with his free foot. Peter heard a grunt as his foot made contact with the Dark Knight's chest, but the grip around his ankle tightened as a result.
Batman yanked forward before he planted a fist in Peter's stomach, making him grunt at the wind was knocked out of him before silencing him with a punch to the cheek. For a brief moment, Batman thought he was already unconscious, but Peter caught himself with a hand and swung himself forward, hitting him behind the knees and involuntarily Batman leaned back before Peter did a quick 180 with his hands and slammed a heel into the Dark Knights stomach. At least he would have if he hadn't anticipated the move and blocked it with his forearms, though the blow carried enough force that Batman slammed into the ground.
Trying to make a quick recovery, Peter leaped away as Batman rolled to put some distance between them. Blinking rapidly, Peter cleared his vision and glared at Batman. He was fighting smart. Far smarter than he anticipated. Since he knew that he had faster reflexes, Batman was hindering his senses and attacking in ways that were hard to dodge or pinned him into a trap so he had to pick his hits.
"So, wait, you're going to take me in when you're still letting Catwoman out and about? She's the one that stole the money! I didn't know about it," he exclaimed, rubbing his stomach, knowing there was going to be a fist shaped bruise in the morning. He suspected it when Catwoman went MIA during the fight with Penguin and Ravager, but he never heard anything about it after that and he had more pressing issues to deal with.
"A possibility. Even a likely one. However, I know Catwoman. I know her motivations, her connections and the lines she won't cross," Batman responded as he threw down a pellet at Peter's feet and a cloud of smoke in eloped him.
Peter coughed, trying to avoid inhaling the smoke before he was forced to duck under a kick. His spidey-sense was blaring, warning him of danger on both the right and left. He jumped into the air and spun, avoiding the two batarangs that flanked him. However, he wasn't in a position to dodge the kick to the face that hit him.
Peter grunted in pain, but he grabbed onto the Dark Knights ankle as he had done to Peter seconds ago. However, Batman spun and tried to kick Peter in the face again, but Peter wasn't having it. He ducked, and when the foot sailed overhead, he threw the leg up and flipped Batman carelessly.
Batman grunted as he felt his leg stretch, pulling a muscle at least, before he regained his balance in mid-air and landed on his feet. He noticed he fell well outside the smoke cloud. Peter was clearly stronger than he looked.
"I like Catwoman too, but she is an unapologetic thief. Is this sexism? Am I being discriminated against?" Peter questioned from within the smoke. He tenderly checked his new bumps and bruises because this guy did not hit like a normal human. He's had worse, but Batman gave him more than love-taps.
"No. You're a potential threat to Gotham. Both for her good, and your own, you need to be brought in," Batman stated, and Peters annoyance grew into anger.
"I'm not asking for your permission," Peter shot back, frustration leaking into his voice.
"Neither was I," Batman declared before deftly dodging two strands of webs that nearly hit him in the chest. Peter jumped from the smoke and towards Batman. The Dark Knight ducked under a kick to his head, and as he rose, he threw an uppercut but Peter leaned his head back, and it missed by an inch. He retaliated by throwing a knee, but Batman jumped backward, putting some distance between them. However, as he did so, Peter tried to web him to stop him from getting away. Batman dodged the web, but the bottom of his cape was caught.
He went to cut the strand with the blades on his gauntlets, but Peter tugged the strand.
"This is why I don't have a cape," Peter yelled as Batman did a backflip to stop his head being pulled backward as Peter pulled up. However, when he landed, his cape was pulled over his face, and Peter didn't waste the opportunity.
He punched the Dark Knight in the stomach and landed a few hits in his ribs. He pulled his punches, but Batman let out grunts with every solid hit. He lashed out with a fist, a blind strike to push Peter away, or so he thought, but Batman cut the strand of webbing. Not wanting for Batman to recover, he grabbed the hand by the wrist and kicked Batman in the stomach, lifting him off the ground. However, he was knocked backward when he relaxed his hand, and it slipped out of the gauntlet.
Batman rolled to his feet, throwing his cape back over his head and settling into his combat stance. The punched didn't do too much damage thanks to his armor, but that kick was going to leave a mark. Spider-man was certainly pulling his punches. That was made abundantly clear.
"I buy you a can of soda, and this is how you repay me? I'm totally trustworthy!" Peter said, sounding betrayed. He threw the gauntlet to the side, far out of reach.
"I didn't drink the root beer," Batman informed and for whatever reason, that pissed Peter off. Maybe it was because he was dirt broke and lived in a rundown studio apartment on the wrong side of town but the idea that Batman didn't drink the beverage that he spent his limited money on just got to him.
"You are such a dick! I paid like a buck fifty on that! That could have gone to my rent, you jerk," Peter snapped at him with surprising anger.
Batman frowned at the outburst but didn't comment. Instead, his hand dipped to his utility belt, but Peter charged him, trying to stop him from whatever useful tool that he had.
Peter jabbed at his face, but Batman leaned back as he countered with an uppercut that Peter barely dodged. However, he couldn't dodge when Batman grabbed his wrist and elbowed him in the diaphragm, knocking all the breath Peter had out of him. Peter gritted his teeth as he grabbed Batman's wrist and yanked his hand off before he attached a web to his exposed hand. Then Peter pressed down on his web activators twice, and Batman let out a shocked scream as his body was flooded with ten thousand volts of electricity, using his one shot secret weapon that he was hoping he wouldn't have to use yet. Peter heard a light sizzling sound as the battery he instaled in his wbe shooter shorted out, rendering it usless but he ignored it for now.
Seizing the brief window, Peter drew back and attached two webs to the bat-signal behind him as he planted his feet against Batman's chest. With that, he pulled on his webs and drug Batman with him before flipping sharply, so Batman was between his feet and the signal.
Batman, knowing what Peter was intending, slashed one web with his gauntlet but he lacked a way to do so with the other. He slammed into the bat signal, destroying the glass and the light bulb, making the darkness intensify, and Batman let out a low groan.
Peter flipped off him and didn't waste a moment. He webbed Batman to the signal, covering his entire body with the webbing that was strong as steel. When Batman was in a cocoon, only then did he stop.
Taking a few deep breaths, glad it was finally over so he could get air back in his lungs, Peter hunched over. "Ohh man, that's going to be tender tomorrow," he observed, clutching his stomach. When he straightened out, he saw Batman looking at him with piercing eyes.
"Now that you're not in a position to be a total asshole, I'm going to drop some facts. Numero uno; you aren't the only one who cares about this city you colossal asshat. Numero dos; I get that you're looking out for Gotham, but you can't stop me from going out and busting bad guys. Do you comprende you brooding jerkface?" Peter spat out, still annoyed about the whole situation. And the fact he didn't drink the root beer. One more than the other.
"Why do you think you deserve to be the one to protect them? You're not trained; you're impulsive and quick to anger...Gotham will chew you up and spit you out. Depends on who gets their hands on you, your face could be worse. Much worse." Batman said in a grave tone, but Peter heard an undertone of...something. His voice was still gruff, but it lacked that judging anger that he expected.
A muscle twitched in Peters jaw, "I know." He stated, and Batman frowned in response.
"And you insist on doing this? Why?" He demanded to know, his voice carrying an authoritative edge to it.
"Because...I have power, and with that power comes great responsibility," Peter answered, but Batman was shaking his head.
"I know your quote. That's not what I'm asking," Batman said, telling Peter what he already knew.
Peter paused, considering if he should tell him. It would be a gesture of trust, one that Batman clearly needed but he...he never actually told anyone why he became Spider-man. Gwen knew. She was smart enough to guess but he never told her. Never got the chance to...if he ever would. Aunt May didn't know his secret identity, so she couldn't know. Harry hadn't cared why, only that he was.
"I...got these powers in a freak accident...and, back then, I didn't deserve them. I thought it was me getting my dues for all the shit the world threw my way. I used them to make money so I could buy a car that to impress a girl, I used them to humiliate my bully, I..." Peter trailed off, forcing himself to begin. He had been an idiot. A stupid, blind, whining idiot that couldn't see how much he already had. Instead, he only cried and moaned over what he didn't have.
"I started fighting for money and one day a manager cheated me. The prize for surviving in a cage match with some guy was three thousand dollars but he only gave me three hundred. I wasn't supposed to beat him, so I technically didn't fulfill the requirements for the full reward, is what he said. I needed...I thought I needed that money, but the manager just said it wasn't his problem. I was pissed. So, when a thief stole the ticket box and ran right past me, I did nothing. I even said it wasn't my problem when he demanded why I didn't do anything to stop the guy," Peter trailed off, looking away from Batman. He gazed at the city and tried to control his voice.
"My...guardian was out looking for me. I told him I was going to the library and I would be back later...I think he knew I was lying, knew something was going on. It was before I left that he told me about the responsibility that comes with power...so, he was out in the city looking for me. It was then that he saw a man trying to steal a car...he wasn't the type of guy that could ignore that. It didn't matter if the guy was half his age and twice as big. He tried to stop him...and he was shot. He died." Peter's voice cracked at the last part, but he tried to disguise it as a cough.
"The thing is, that thief? It was the same guy I let get away. Crazy right? If I had been less of a self-absorbed teenager, the man I respected and loved most would still be alive. I..." Peter wished he could take off his mask to run his stinging eyes.
"It's my fault. I had the power, I had the opportunity, I had every chance in the world to stop it from happening...but I didn't. And he's dead because of it..." Peter trailed off and let out a breath, feeling a weight off his shoulders. It felt good, finally voicing his guilt. He wasn't looking for reassurance or pity. He just wanted others to know what he had done.
"So, I can't just stop. I can't ever stop. I have power, and I have to respect the responsibility that comes with it. Because if I stand by and do nothing while something bad happens then whatever bad thing that happens is my fault. I have to. Not because it's a good choice, or even because it's the right thing to do. It's my responsibility," Peter explained, steel entering his voice as he squared his shoulders.
He was Spider-man. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how much it cost him...he would never turn his back on his responsibility.
"Does that-AHHH!" Peter screamed as he turned around, coming face-to-emblem of Batman. He stepped backward, not expecting that in the slightest, and he tripped over the railing of the building. He swung his arms forward, trying to pull himself forward but he failed. Peter started to adhesive himself to the ground when Batman suddenly grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward.
Peter straightened himself and looked directly up at Batman, who stared down at him with a look that could cut diamonds, even with only the bottom half of his face showing.
"...are you mad about the asshat comment?" Peter asked, trying not to show how intimidated he suddenly felt. The guy was a freakin' giant. A scary giant. "Because I meant it. And the jerkface thing too. And I'm still upset that you didn't drink the root beer," Peter began to ramble but trailed off when Batman let out a breath like he had been counting to ten.
Suddenly, Batman pulled his hand forward, so his palm was facing upwards and dropped something into it. Peter gave it a look and saw it was an emergency beacon in the shape of a bat. He looked up at Batman, a puzzled expression hidden beneath his mask.
"You obey my rules, and you stick to the patrol that I lay out for you. When you see a villain on the list that Butlerman provides for you, you call me and withdraw. When I tell you to withdraw from a situation, you withdraw. You do everything that I say, and I will let you operate in Gotham City," Batman stated, going to move his arm away.
"Nope," Peter said, grabbing Batman's hand and dropping the beacon back into his hand. "For one, I know better than to let you put a tracker on me now. And two, I told you I can't just ignore someone that needs my help. I'll stick to the patrol though. Mostly."
"You're going to get yourself killed," Batman declared, and Peter grinned in response.
"So are you," he shot back, and he swore he saw a ghost of a smile on Batman's face before it returned to its default scowl. He then pressed the beacon back into Peter's hand. He didn't say anything, but he knew that Peter would disable the tracker until he activated it. However, that wasn't the purpose of it anymore.
He turned his back to Peter and faced Gordon, who had watched the fight with dull annoyance, "call in the reinforcements. I'll tell the rest of my team," Batman said as he walked to the police commissioner. Gordon nodded, a look of acceptance on his face before Batman turned to the ledge. Without another word to either of them, he jumped off the edge.
Peter jumped across the building in one leap, shocked by the action. However, when he looked over the edge, instead of seeing a bat cake on the sidewalk, he saw no trace of the bat-themed hero.
"He does that a lot. You get use to it," Gordon said as he lite another cigarette. "Now, are you going to pay for the light you just broke?" He questioned sending Peter a flat look.
Peter managed to hold his gaze for all of five seconds before he cupped his ear. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you over the sound of innocents needing my help," he said before jumped off the building as well, the sound of Gordon chuckling in his ears over the rushing wind.