Part Two
"And what's the square root?" Ben Parker asked of his nephew at the dinner table. He stared at Peter intently, "Come on, you know this."
Peter clicked his tongue and tapped the side of his skull, "Twenty-seven-point-three?" He sighed in relief at the approving nod of his uncle. "I am so ready for this mid-term."
Ben smiled and put the notebook down on the table, "I should hope so; otherwise it wouldn't say much about considering that I spent over three hours helping you out." He patted Peter on the shoulder, "Now you go get some rest."
"I think I'm going to get some air tonight, get a sweat going." He replied casually leaning back into the chair and stretching his arms out.
"No way, you're not going out tonight, kiddo." Ben replied sternly walking over towards the fridge, "You've got tests tomorrow and I don't want you battling fatigue."
Peter smiled as his uncle went for the bag of potato chips, his one weakness, stuffed near the back of the refrigerator, "I'm not going to do anything strenuous, just a little workout."
"It's out of the question." Ben answered hungrily grabbing a chip, "Totally."
His nephew couldn't help but smile when he remembered all the times they had gone shopping, how he could always tell uncle Ben was keeping one eye open for the chips as they strolled through the aisles, "Come on, if I asked to go out jogging you said yes. This is the same thing."
Ben raised an eye, "Running around the block a few times is a very different thing than soaring a hundred feet over the ground." He laughed, "How you don't go smack right into a building is beyond me."
"I guess that's a little part of the adrenaline rush. I'll be out for an hour, tops." Peter pleaded and put on his puppy-dog eyes, "Please."
The old man sighed, "Now if I say no I won't ever get any sleep. Go ahead but don't take too long." He caved in wondering if he should have been stricter.
"You're going out?" Mary Jane asked looking at Peter as he donned his red and blue garb. "Is that safe?"
Peter frowned, "Why is everyone so concerned about me? I'll be fine, I've gone out dozens of times and nothing's ever happened." He pulled the mask over his face, "What's so different about tonight?"
"It's just that you've got mid-terms tomorrow." MJ reminded him, "You're still coming over to Jill's with me?" His hesitation prompted an outburst from her, "You promised me!"
"Don't worry; I'll be there, its right after school, right?" Peter inquired. She nodded and he shrugged, "Nothing will get in the way." After finishing off on the finer details of his costume he smiled and ran his hand against MJ's cheek, "Don't you worry I'll be back before you can bat an eye."
"He's here!" Yelled one of the goons in the seedy run-down bar as some of the city's toughest and most cruel criminals ran every which way screaming for their lives. The bar had been a symbol of the Kingpin's power in Hell's Kitchen.
Nobody would touch the place, not even his rival Silvermane, his son frequented the place. Now the mystique and safety had come crumbling down.
One of the thugs fired their pistol blindly into the darkness, "I think I got him." He screamed jovially, imagining a shattering glass on a table to be his target. Suddenly, from the shadows, he emerged.
With a mighty blow he sent the gunmen into a crowd of his comrades in crime sending the whole group tumbling across the floor. For the first time since the assault began, DareDevil emerged out of the shadows.
He was truly a sight to behold. His costume was made of a thick red leather that covered his entire body proudly showing off the muscular, but lean, frame underneath.. His eyes were a bright blue but unknown to his observers they saw nothing but darkness. The letters DD had been carved into his chest long ago. Two small horns protruded from his mask for only about an inch but from just a glimpse his enemies realized where DareDevil received his name from.
"I'm looking for the Big Man." DareDevil roared, "Where is he?" He demanded. His supersonic hearing echoed forth and he could hear the sound of a shotgun being loaded from his rear. DareDevil spun around and sprang forth with amazing speed. He grabbed the shotgun from the gunner's hands and threw it aside, "I won't ask again." This apparent freak asked throwing his would-be assassin towards the rest of the crowd. He kept his senses attuned, he could hear their heart-beats, the sweat trickling from their heads, at times it was more than he could handle.
"I'm right here." A small man said breaking through the crowd confidently; he knew that nobody here would even consider laying a hand on him. "You are really a freak; I guess the rumors were true."
DareDevil frowned at this accusation, "Freakishness is relative; breaking your neck on the other hand is not. Word on the street is that Kingpin has another gun shipment going through, tonight. Where is it?"
The Big Man smiled, "You've gotten on his bad-side, I don't care if you live up to the hype surrounding you DareDevil; you don't get on the Kingpin's bad-side."
"Tell someone who cares." He cracked his knuckles, "Now let's focus on that shipment."
"I have to wonder what the Kingpin did to you that you have such a hard-on about nailing him." The Big Man snickered, "Must have been hell of a sin, buddy."
DareDevil smelled the scent of newcomers, men armed with weapons. There was a trap-door behind him! He dodged out of the way as bullets suddenly tore apart the wall of the bar. Men came through the trap door blazing away with machine guns while DareDevil took cover behind an overturned table.
He grimaced, "This was stupid of me. Fisk knew I was coming, he knew I'd go after the shipment." Bullets pounded against the table. DareDevil grabbed the base of the table and used it as a shield. He closed in on his attackers and through an impressive assault of acrobatic movements mixed in with brutal bashings from the table annihilated the reinforcements in seconds. The table's edge was bloody.
"Now, let's get down to business." DareDevil said coldly to a horrified Big Man.
Peter rounded the corner. His web-line stretched out to its breaking point moments before he let go of it and made another. It was instinct; at any moment he could smash into something and crack his ribs or snap his neck.
Miraculously he never has. Sweat was pouring through his body, thankfully his costume breathed. He could feel the wind blasting against him and he cheered. It was a rush, there was no denying it.
Then the tingling came. In the past he had used it to locate trouble spots, ironic considering its purpose. Peter bit his lip. He had promised to be back within ten or fifteen minutes. "I made a promise to Ben." Peter told himself with a sense of overwhelming guilt washing over him and immediately gripping his heart in its powerful grip. "Oh what the hell, it's probably nothing more than some goon who wants an old lady's purse. It'll take me no more than a few minutes." He said confidently heading straight for the danger.