"Have a seat, Peter."
The concerned student stepped into the principal's office. His aunt May was already present.
"What's, um, going on?" He asked as he joined her side.
"Some not so great news, I'm afraid." Principal Morita took a moment to formulate how exactly he was to deliver this. "We've… first, let me preface this by reiterating that neither myself nor the faculty here believe you are any sort of threat or even the slightest bit problematic. You're one of our brightest students. We understand and empathize with your extreme situation, Parker, but…"
May braced herself with unnerving apprehension etched all over her face.
"We've received some alarming phone calls after the first day."
"Oh no! Did someone threaten to attack the school?" Her worried mind immediately jumped to the worst imaginable scenario.
"No! No. Nothing like that. Something much worse…"
The Parkers anxiously awaited what dreadful response would possibly come.
"Parent complaints." He answered dryly.
They sighed away in both relief and irritation.
"They're threatening to pull their kids, and since we're privately owned, major funding would go as well. There's even talk of a class action lawsuit."
"Jesus," May shook her head.
"They feel their children are unsafe with Peter still enrolled here, calling us irresponsible. And with how desperate the times currently are, we can't afford to leave this matter unaddressed. The board has requested that Mister Parker remain off the premises until further notice."
"You're expelling him for something that's not even his fault!?" The fumes of motherly anger were indeed boiling.
"Ma'am, it will not be filed as an expulsion. We simply need to-"
"Need to make nice with all the pompous, rich parents. Yeah, no, I get it. This is unbelievable! What, is Peter now supposed to wait around? Miss the full year? Go to a district school?"
"I understand your frustration, but please-"
She shot out of her seat, arguing directly into his face. "A public school will make him register his current address. He won't be safe! Do you understand? Do you, really?"
As the adults went back and forth, Peter left his chair unnoticed. He paced about at the far end of the office. Just when the boy thought life had ceased throwing its cheap shots, another now sidelined him.
May had every right to be furious. If he were to transfer to a public institute, his delicately established safety bubble would be no more. Midtown was a special case. They enforced stricter security, especially after the viral video. Maintained a smaller staff that all knew Peter, looked out for him. Extensive background checks were performed on them all. They even signed his legal team's NDA regarding his secret relocation. A city funded school may not be so inclined to do the same with Peter Parker marked as New York's number one public enemy.
What am I going to do? He feared he would have to disappear all over again.
Peering in between the window blinds was none other than Michelle Jones, seeing her boyfriend look gravely distraught. Having shared their last class period, she witnessed Peter be summoned to principal Morita's. She requested a hall pass as an excuse to go check on him. At first she waited out in the hall, but her plan changed once she heard the yelling.
As soon as Parker caught a glimpse of her, he slipped out. "MJ, what are you doing here?" He asked, gently grabbing hold of her arms.
She held his in return, "I heard your Aunt yelling, and wow she is really letting him have it."
"Yeah, once she gets started, forget about it." He pulled onto his backpack strap, fidgeting about. "Listen um…"
"What is it this time?" She asked sharply with irritation in her voice. Michelle knew dating a superhero would come with its complications, but it seemed never ending with Peter, and the semester had just started.
"I'm… I'm pretty sure I'm getting kicked out of school."
"What?" She exclaimed.
Parker, slightly startled, shushed her down.
"It's barely day two." She spoke more quietly. "You didn't do anything."
"I know. I know, but the controversy around you-know-who wasted no time in getting to me."
"No wonder why she's pissed."
"Yeah,"
"You telling Ned?"
"I mean eventually I-"
"Tell Ned what?" Leeds came down the stairs, completing the signature trio.
"School's kicking Peter out because of Spider-Man."
"What!?"
Parker now shushed his best friend as well. Then the door suddenly swung open with a loud bang.
"Let's go, Peter. I'm done hearing all this- this bullshit!" May struck emphasis on the final curse for Morita to hear. "I'm calling Ms. Walters," already scrolling through her contacts. "See what she recommends we do." She then noticed Michelle and Ned, "Oh, hi, you guys." And quickly hugged them both with an accompanying kiss-to-cheek greet.
"May, please stop bothering our lawyers for everything." Her nephew whined.
"Stop being so embarrassed. It's what they're there for. Wait, on second thought. You're right, I should call Missus. Potts instead."
Peter facepalmed dramatically.
"Okay," As it began to ring, she held her phone between her ear and shoulder in order to dig around her purse for the keys. "I'll let you finish up with your friends. Going to pull the ride around."
Once his aunt had exited down the hall, the group huddled to a secluded area near a colorful school bulletin.
"So turns out, we won't be seeing much of you." Michelle uttered with a heavy heart.
"I'm sorry. This Parker luck of mine is the unwanted gift that just keeps on giving."
"More time to make a difference as Spider-Man though." Ned looked to the silver lining. "Any 'luck' there?"
"Not… exactly. Everyone's siding with the Bugle. Cops are more likely to shoot first, thank me never. But, hey, I took down this really angry costumed bad guy. So that's something."
"Costumed? Like a Vulture type?" His best friend asked.
"Less high tech. And replace wings with horns."
"Horns?" Jones pondered an immediate thought. As soon as Peter demonstrated said feature with his index fingers up to his head, she blurted forth at her correct realization. "You fought Daredevil?"
The lost boys were as clueless as ever. "Who?"
She was disappointed in them both. "What, do you guys just not pay attention to what goes on in your own backyard? Especially after Peter started doing what he was doing? Like Zero research to stay observant?"
"We…" Ned stammered slowly. "Follow… the Avengers…?"
Michelle rolled her eyes. "Only care about what's mainstream. How typical." After a disappointing shake of her head, she began to enlighten the two. "He's like an underground defender of New York. Striking fear into the worst this city has to offer. Mainly operates in Hell's Kitchen."
"I was… actually by Hell's Kitchen, yeah." Peter admitted.
"Then it was definitely him." She was confident.
"Horns, though? Seriously. Anyone can throw on a helmet like that."
"Did he have a matching red suit?"
"Hard to tell. It was dark. Maybe?"
"Did he have sweet moves?"
"I mean, yeah, I guess."
"Then you definitely fought Daredevil."
"No no no…" Parker's brows raised as his hands dug into his scalp. "Then that means…" He groaned out at his unfathomable carelessness. "I helped the real bad guy get away!"
The bell rang dismissing the final period. Soon all the rushing students would flood these quiet halls.
"You screwed up big time." Leeds patted him square on the back.
"Now what?" Michelle asked.
"I add it to my growing laundry list of things to fix." The boy had to conclude this huddle, for he could already feel the staring eyes of passing high schoolers. "Listen, I gotta go and sort this out. I'll be sure to pick up some burner phones for you to keep in touch."
As Peter rushed towards the nearby exit, he was not so subtly reminded, "Aren't you forgetting something!" He sidestepped back to peck his girlfriend on the lips. "Thanks." She was pleased.
After sharing an innocent smile, Parker carried on with his leave.
"Be careful!" Michelle's final goodbye attracted more attention than she intended.
Ned covered as best he could. "Be careful not to keep being mistaken for Spider-Man!"
"That's what I meant!"
"Because he's totally not!"
"Definitely not! Yeah."
Their fellow classmates looked onto them as the weirdos they were before continuing on with their dismissal.
"Peter Parker…" A familiar voice uttered grimly.
The unsuspecting junior, now former, made his way through the barricaded school zone, for pockets of media were already present; like clockwork. Lost in his own thoughts, the boy was completely unaware that he was also being watched from afar. Hidden perfectly in plain sight was a blind man at the corner across the street. Matthew Murdock, wearing his same old grey and unpressed business suit from the move this morning. Much like his current emotional state, it had seen better days.
Even with numerous distractions: school bus engines, city train struggling along, nagging reporters, and cliques of wandering students conversing and gorging on carbs. None of it mattered. Meaningless white noise, for Murdock honed in on something unmistakably unique to his target and solely him.
The idiot carries it to school.
Even as the vehicle slowly drove off with the young boy, the chemical stench of his webbing mixture followed. The scented trail was strong. Matthew would not lose him. The devil in disguise vanished into the crowd of pedestrians.
Blocks into his stroll, an abrupt collision of steel crunching against aluminum demanded his attention. A car accident down 5th Avenue.
A younger Matt would have sprinted straight into the crash to make sure all was well. But in the moment of impact, his heightened senses assessed the entire incident. One impatient driver tried to cut a turn right before the light changed. The other was not obeying the speed limit. Passengers were all fine, for the most part. Simply bruised with a few bone fractures, minor state of shock, and only one suffered from internal bleeding. Hearts naturally raced, pumping louder than the reacting commotion from the surrounding bystanders, their blood rushing with hateful frustration. The survivors were more infuriated at one another than the life threatening situation itself.
No, Murdock was different now. They'll live. He shrugged it off like an unwanted chore, feeling no need to involve himself in the same tiresome statements of comfort and reassurance, "You're okay now," and "Everything is going to be alright." He had lost his compassion for this city and its people, for he could not help but dwell on the past. Instead of calling him to action, the accident only called forth a triggered memory.
A door kicked open like a gunshot, giving way to the elevated midday breeze pushing passed Matthew's skin. The following whiff of smoke filled his nostrils, clouding his panicked mind. He stomped into his last boot and continued rushing towards the edge of the rooftop, hearing something enormous plummeting just beside his building. Something of heavy metal, wreathed in flame, and filled with terrified screams.
Dear God. A plane!
The explosion of impact knocked him off balance. The overwhelmed hero was short of breath, both from his mad hurry up the flight of stairs, and at the devastation combusting around him. After quickly readjusting himself on the ledge, his head twitched in all directions, collecting as much audible information as he could.
Matthew failed to cease his frantic panting as he absorbed all the chaos: A chain reaction of sudden unmanned vehicles crashing into other cars, into shops, into disoriented pedestrians. New Yorkers scrambled about in crazed disarray, crying for their missing loved ones.
"W-what's happening?"
People were vanishing into nothingness. He felt their final moments as they disintegrated away: fleeting emotions of confusion and fear.
Another explosion then rang out three blocks over. An abandoned fuel truck had skidded smack into an electronics store. The flames spread wild onto neighboring complexes and onto the hectic streets. Though it only grew worse, for just above Murdock, a news helicopter spun out of control with the loss of its pilot. It collided with another chopper. Their fiery debris scattered through skyscrapers, and rained down upon innocents. Gasoline and burning smoke suffocated the sky of helpless cries. Through his blind eyes, it truly was a world on fire.
The stunned Defender from Hell's Kitchen knew naught where to even begin to help.
"DAD! DADDY!"
The tearful plea of a lost little boy trapped under fallen rubble made Matthew's decision evidently clear. He slipped on his black mask and dived off into action before the engulfed tail of a copter violently sliced across the rooftop.
"Miss Parker," A stocky undercover security agent greeted the hooded duo outside a pleasantly mundane four story lodge. "Did you circle around the perimeter five times as advised?"
"Yes, Clay. We did. You don't have to remind me every time." May answered brusquely.
"It's for your safety, ma'am."
"No, we're clear. I even made sure to double check." Peter assured him.
The seemingly average gardener scanned the area once over before giving the okay for the two to enter the place of hidden sanctuary. What he failed to suspect though was the blind man walking steadily down the opposite block.
Matthew Murdock had followed the chemically bonded trail to its source, finding himself in a quiet neighborhood of the Upper East Side. No matter how far his target got ahead of him, the odor still lingered densely enough for him to track at his leisure. The 4 p.m. traffic worked in his favor as well, for by the time he had made the halfway mark, he picked up wind of the boy's stockpile at home. This allowed him to intercept them.
He gathered precisely seven total security personnel, including the gardener outside. Each carried a concealed firearm, and were easy to track with the static waves emanating off their ear pieces. He detected no other legitimate tenants residing in the building. Only the boy and his aunt, already settling in at the top floor.
Whole place must have been bought out.
Early in his career, Matt would have reconned the safe house more patiently, awaiting possible shift changes. He would have snuck in through the side window, or whichever entry point granted him the least amount of resistance. But the Devil's fuse burned short these days, and after his embarrassing defeat the previous night, he was itching for retribution.
As he approached the gate, the pretender turned to him.
"Good afternoon, sir."
"Beautiful place to hide a fugitive."
"I-I'm sorry?"
The blind stranger began picking the keyhole.
"Sir? Sir! What in God's name do you think you're-"
Once close enough, the trespasser jabbed the guard with the thickest end of his walking stick through the freshly painted bars. Nailed right in the throat, he dropped to the dying grass, gagging uncontrollably. The presumed harmless wanderer finished bypassing the gate, then whacked the fallen man unconscious. After folding in his four-section cane, tucking his specs into his inside pocket, and loosening his red tie, Murdock knocked on the front door.
"Clay, you gotta stop forgetting the secret knock."
The sound of multiple locks slid and clicked open. The door itself had barely begun to creak an inch before it was slammed into the opener. Stammered aback, he was then welcomed with a solid bare-knuckled fist to the nose. A satisfying crack rippled through Matthew's body, pleasing the Devil inside. His victim collapsed limply onto a glass coffee table.
Alarmed by the sudden shattering, the only other man standing in the lobby whipped his gaze over. Murdock swiftly chucked his bundled cane, bopping the guard on the forehead before he could even drop his cup of joe. Caught by surprise, taking down the first set was child's play. They never even got the chance to catch a glimpse of his face. The man with a mission closed the door behind him, reclaimed his sturdy instrument, and proceeded up the stairs.
The building was tight. Made for fewer, but larger rooms on every floor, and, thus, narrower hallways.
"Hey, Pulaski. The kid forgot something in the ride. Can you go get it for him?"
Matthew overheard their comm chatter upon taking a knee at the end of the staircase on the second floor, just behind the corner of the wall.
"You heard me? Hey, Pulaski, do you copy?"
While awaiting the prime opportunity to strike, he fully undid his scarlet tie in order to wrap it around his eyes, concealing his identity. Though he detected no distinct hum that came off of surveillance cameras, the last thing he needed was a trained operative detailing a picture perfect account of his face.
"Ugh he's not responding. I'll go get it."
"I'm closer, boss. I can go check on him."
"Don't bother. Betchu' he took his earpiece off again to play that damn game on his phone. I'll go slap the goofy ass myself."
The head security guard was coming down from the fourth floor, soon to link-up with the lone sentry on the third. The remaining two on Matthew's current position nested in the far room, watching television.
"Oh man, we gotta see this."
Once the TV was shut off and the two stepped out into his preferred terrain, the blind ninja dashed into action, bouncing off the wall to tackle down the closest operative.
"What the f-"
His friend pulled out a pistol in a frightened hurry. But the intruder was much faster, and even without his reinforced suit, he was much stronger as well. Where someone like Captain Steven Grant Rogers was blessed with the Super Soldier Serum to gain peak human perfection, Murdock had no such blessing. Instead he had a brutal five years of obsessive training and conditioning to achieve that level of enhancement. On top of his further refined martial arts skills, he was better than he had ever been. And unfortunately for the pair facing him today, he was far more ruthless as well.
The Devil made short work of them with an onslaught of aggression.
The final pair arrived to the surprise of one of their own collapsing before them. Firearms were immediately drawn out, but when they checked around the corner, no target was in sight. Only their incapacitated colleagues. They advanced cautiously.
"Check the rooms." The head ordered, covering his true sense of uneasiness.
But that smell alone, that hint of fear, was plenty to draw the silent hunter out.
"Wait, why don't we just alert the kid? He's Spider-Man for God's sake."
They paused in place, but before the leader even had time to agree, he was struck from behind. Their very weapons used to beat them down. Murdock ended the flawless assault with a spinning air-kick that launched the biggest clean through the drywall.
"Did you hear something?" May asked his nephew midway through preparing a warm meal.
He poked his head out from the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. "Huh!?"
"That thud sound. No? Nothing?"
"Think it's just you, May!" He told her with a mouthful of foaming paste.
The family had remained perfectly oblivious to the entire infiltration. Then rang the doorbell.
"Oh, you see? Hurry and finish up. They probably dropped something and need your help moving it."
The boy was done rinsing before walking over to the door. "My help? Even with my proportional Spidey strength, there's like ten of 'em downstairs. I'm pretty sure it's nothing serious. Just bringing me my charger that I forgot."
Peter opened his new home to a grown man standing before him, feet apart, excellent posture. He wore a grey suit with red tinted glasses and matching tie. His folded hands rested over his planted walking stick.
Is he blind? "Um, hi?" The puzzled boy greeted in his soft, mumbling voice.
"I'm sorry?" The legally blind stranger leaned forth a bit, facing his ear towards the faint speaker. He was an expert by now at playing into the role of his presumed disadvantage.
"My bad. Yeah, erm." He tried louder and more articulate this time. "Hello, sir."
The guest smiled amusingly. "You must be Peter Parker." And extended his arm, offering a friendly handshake. "Jonathan Lantom. I'm the new attorney assigned to your case."
Parker was still rightfully apprehensive. He knew not just anyone was allowed in here. Even Pepper stayed in the dark regarding where Happy relocated them. Plus the lack of security escort was enough to raise suspicion, but Peter's mind was at peace. His natural sixth sense remained dormant, detecting zero danger from this handicapped stranger. He deemed it safe to accept the strong and firm handshake.
"Hey, nice to meet you. But uh-"
"Wow, that was fast!" May approached just beside her nephew to invite the gentlemen in. "Missus Potts said she'd send someone from legal, but I wasn't expecting you till tomorrow at the earliest."
"You are of our utmost priority, and due to my peculiar…" He gestured to his disability of sight. "Status. The firm agreed it best to dispatch me since I have absolutely no clue what borough I'm even in right now." He joked lightheartedly.
This brought a giggle to the aunt. "Peter, what are you doing?" Ashamed of his lacking manners. "Please, let me walk you in. Forgive him."
Murdock felt her peach perfumed body gently press against his side. He gladly took her offered arm. "Thank you, Miss Parker."
"Oh, don't bother with that. Just call me May. Really."
"A lovely name to match the voice."
He now felt the heat of her skin rising, body loosening with trusting ease at the innocent blandishing.
"Why thank you." She replied flattered, finding him handsomely charming.
Ah, great. Here we go again. Peter rolled his eyes as he shut the door.
They made their way to the living room.
"Potts gave me the rundown. Peter's recent academic inconvenience only serves as more ammunition to load onto his favor. And believe me," He tracked Peter's footsteps, gazing at his general direction. "I plan on firing with everything we've got."
"Good. Great! Yeah, that's what we want to hear." She sat him down on the long sofa, joining beside him also. Peter chose to remain afoot.
Murdock effortlessly used all his background intel from when he zeroed in on her conversation over the phone to carry along convincingly. "Then you'll love this. As you know, our goal here is to force Jameson into a settlement- to submit to the terms of our cease-and-desist order. Unfortunately, with the city backing him, he's not caving. But…" He set aside his stick. "Being unable to continue his education due to unjust public influence? This slander has already begun to damage your personal life, Mister Parker. We can now further argue that your safety will follow. It's just what we needed."
"For what?" The boy in focus inquired.
"For this to go to trial of which there is no doubt in my mind it surely will."
"Oh my god." May gasped delightfully at the news.
"That's the good news? Me being under the spotlight even more?"
The adults faced him.
"Honey, listen."
"With an open court, Jonah can't keep avoiding us or hide behind his newly acquired sponsors. He and the rest of the Bugle would have no choice but to adhere to the verdict. And with all the money in the world, I guarantee Stark Industries will not let you lose."
"Finally! A big step forward." His aunt rejoiced in her seat. "Instead of all this relocating and rude interviews and press statements and back-and-forth hooplas. Oh, I'm so happy! I'm going to bring us some drinks." She hopped up and headed back to the kitchen. "Peter, I know you love your hot coco." A fact he was quite embarrassed about in front of company. "And Jonathan? Coffee, anything?"
"No, no thank you." He smiled with his arms in polite protest. "I shouldn't impose."
"Please, it's no trouble at all. I love your manners, but stop it. Anything, I mean it. We also have soda- I can get you a beer?"
"Well alright," Even his gentle laugh was charming. "If you insist-"
"I do. I very much so insist."
"Then, sure. I'll take a hot tea if you have any."
"Boiling up the water now." She shimmied over to the cabinets to search for the pot.
"Wonderful." Murdock then stood from the long sofa. The making of tea was but a diversion for his true intentions. "Gives me time to go over legal strategy with Mister Parker, here. In private, if I may?"
She waved them off from the stove. "Go ahead. Attorney-client privilege business, I know the drill."
The door to Peter's bedroom closed behind them.
"Okay, cool." The ever on edge adolescent paced about. "So this goes to trial, awesome. Now what exactly do I say in front of the judge and jury and all New York to convince them I'm not Spi-"
"Sit down and shut up, you little shit." The blind lawyer switched tone of voice from civilly pleasant out there to intimidatingly hostile in here.
"I'm sorry, wha-" He was interrupted with the tip of the cane jabbing into his chest, planting him onto his wheeled desk chair.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?" With his same assistance tool, he spun the boy to the center room.
Peter was beyond confused. Quickly he was realizing that this was not the attorney he claimed to be. "What are you talking about?"
"Swinging around the city in the ungodly hours of the night. Interfering with my lead."
Holy shit! "Wait… y-you're him. You're…" He then whispered his name, "Daredevil."
"And you're Spider-Man." He stood tall, gripping onto the leather of his handle.
"No I'm not." The blatant lie was but a reflex. The first thing the youngster could think to say in this tense confrontation.
"Seriously? Your increased heart rate and reeking perspiration say otherwise. And a word of legal counsel, invest in better bodyguards."
"No way. You…" His wit grew insulting. "You beat up all our neighbors?"
"Drop the act, kid."
"Okay then how? How come I-"
"Didn't detect anything?" Murdock figured he possessed his own form of heightened senses with the way he moved during their brawl. Among overhearing mention of a "tingle" between him and his computer friend, of which seemed to be presently absent. Must only be in the suit. He thought to himself. "Because as much as I'd enjoy it, I'm not here to hurt you."
"Yeah right." The young Spider slipped into his alter ego. Yet another instinctual defense mechanism. "Last I remember, I'm the one that literally left you hanging."
"You got the upper hand, I'll give you that. But now, so do I." He stated confidently.
The lawyer was right. Peter could not afford to risk an altercation here. Not with May just outside. A rematch would surely grow destructive as well, giving away his position to the entire block. Even if he were to win the fight, video caught on people's phones would only show him now assaulting the blind. It was a lose-lose.
"How did you even find me?"
Matthew cracked his devilish smirk, "Please, I could have followed your anxiety all the way to Stamford. But if you must know…" and pounded his fist onto an overstocked bookshelf without even having to look. A vial dropped right into his grasp from the very top. "This stinks up the place." He tossed it to the teenager. "The only chemical compound of its kind, and only one person in the whole city that mixes it together."
"Okay, creepily cool." Parker looked back up at him after examining his web fluid, thinking it was time to go back to formula. "Next question, are you even blind?"
"I see more than you. That much is painfully obvious."
"Okay… hurtful-ly mysterious. So what do you want?"
"From you? Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. I just need you to steer the hell out of my way."
"Look, man-I mean," He corrected himself for sensitivity. "Sorry, listen. I didn't know at the time what was going on. I barely learned about you this afternoon and I feel so stupid about it-"
"Stupid doesn't even begin to cover it." Murdock snapped harshly like a disgruntled parent while still managing to keep his composure. "That man you let go was an enforcer for the Maggia. One of the oldest running gangs in this city. I've tied them to a string of recent homicides. Slipped away from me and the police because of your gullible naivety. And guess what? Late this morning, another woman was found dead in a dumpster not even a city block from where we were. Body so mutilated, they couldn't even I.D. her."
"Oh my god…" The boy's very insides sunk to the deepest, guiltiest depths of his core.
"I take it you're finally listening? Good." He inched in close, hovering over the nervous adolescent. His voice now severely stern. "You have no idea what you just stepped into. And last night all you did was further complicate things. I was about to get answers and you completely botched that. Now I have to wait until a fresh lead rears its ugly head, and it'll most likely be in the form of another dead body. And whose fault will that be?"
"Please… Let me make it up to you. I can help."
"I don't need your help. Clearly." Murdock viewed him as but a mere inexperienced and spoiled brat. Only sheer miracles, expensive gadgets, and connections to those in high places could explain how he had not yet gotten himself killed. This boy would only further interfere. "I know you're not the murderer they're painting you to be. You're just a kid. Your heart was in the right place…" He almost came off sincere. "But if you keep at this, you'll only continue making it worse. I don't need an Avengers' sidekick right now. What I need, again, is for you to back off, and let me continue my work."
"I-I'm so sorry, but…" An old, familiar feeling re-emerged within the boy. A great urge to take responsibility for his careless mistake. "Now that I know what's going on, you can't just expect me to look the other way."
"I can, and you will. Because if I sense you even within a five mile radius of me, my insiders at the 17th precinct and the Bulletin will receive a credible tip as to the secret whereabouts of New York's Masked Menace."
A stage of sudden speechlessness struck Peter's throat.
"No matter where you go- because once the guards wake up, their immediate course of action will be to relocate you again. But that won't matter, because there's nowhere in this city I can't track you."
"Y-you wouldn't…" His panicked voice failed to not tremble.
"I wouldn't want to, but do not test me." The boy's heart rate skyrocketed well over 180 beats per minute. He was scared straight. Murdock's mission here was accomplished. "You have enough on your plate. Stay out of trouble." He turned his back on the distressed minor as he walked towards the window covered in reflective film. "Have a pleasant rest of your evening, Mister Parker." He cranked open said window to depart, hopping on its ledge. "Apologize to your aunt on my behalf."
The Devil in a two piece left the young teen alone to recover from his alarming state of panic. Even the knock at his door did not shake him as May stepped in with the guest's tea.
"Where'd Jon go?" She looked around in confusion. Her nephew did not answer, for his mind was still spiraling. She then saw the open window. Its lock busted. "Peter," she sounded more serious. "What happened?" More concerned.
She would soon learn the truth of what transpired here. If not by her nephew, then by the recovering guards. But the Devil cared naught. In his mind, he never planned on running into them ever again. Touching onto the cemented ground, he opened his palm to another cylinder of web fluid. After tossing the first vial to the boy, he did not notice him slip a second into his back pocket. A simple sleight of hand. Insurance in case the young Arachnid disobeyed his warning and attempted anything idiotic again.
May poked her head out the window, but the man was gone. She pulled it shut, hoping the neighbors did not see them. "Peter." She demanded his attention.
But his tense body looked over to the foot of his bed instead. How to even begin to handle this extreme misfortune of his, he did not know. His soul on the other hand, as calm as a serene lake, it knew precisely what to do. Even if he was unsure of the specific how. Parker continued to stare at something beyond the foot of his bed. A picture frame on the shelf of someone incredibly dear to him. Someone with the power to inspire even after death.
"No… I will never look the other way again." He declared with unshakable determination raging through his entire being: mind, body, and soul.
"What? What is going on?" His aunt questioned as he pulled an advanced case from under his bed.
"I'll explain later, May." He finally answered, but did so quietly, in case the Devil was still listening. He hinted at her to remain silent as well by pressing his finger onto the center of his lips.
After flipping the mask of his upgraded red and black suit inside out, and toggling with the circuitry, a hologram of recording files and news stories expanded all around him. The display added a digital blue filter to his room. His partner was already a step ahead of him, for all the data was regarding this Daredevil.
"Karen." He whispered carefully. "You overheard, didn't you?"
"All of it, Peter." She replied calmly. "Good afternoon, Miss Parker."
Aunt May waved hello in no particular direction. She was half distracted by the hovering information compiled around the bedroom.
"And not to worry. I now hypothesize with a ninety-nine point nine percent certainty that our new friend is gifted with an enhanced form of superhuman hearing. I've established a sub-tuning frequency to shield the room. No one can hear us, but us."
"Awesome, because we got work to do."
{End of Act I}
