A/N: Oh, would you look at the date, oops. Sorry it took so long for me to update. I would say that the next update won't take as long, but I honestly can't promise that. I've already had to rewrite the beginning of chapter five two or three times, and I still don't know if I like it. Also, if you haven't noticed, I started a new story that is taking up a good bit of my writing time. It's a Will and Nico goes to Hogwarts to apologize for killing Will. It's called A Wizard's Harmony if you're interested. Thank you for reviewing and reading. I think that's all. Until next time.
I'm in a much better mood when I come back from the Underworld. I don't even mind that I shadow travel next to a bridge instead of my apartment. Okay, maybe I care a little, but not nearly as much as I normally would. Though, of course my good mode has to be ruined. By an explosion no less. Seriously, can't I have one day off?
The bright lights disorient me and the noise makes my ears ring. Worst of all, the force of the blast knocks me back a couple steps right into the light of a streetlamp, making my hidden form visible to the nitwits that caused the blast. "What, are you deaf or something? I'm talking to you."I hear one call to me once the buzzing in my ears dies down. He's pointing something at me, probably what made the explosion. It's metal and oddly shaped. Wait, is that an Ultron arm? My mode has now gone from poor to horrid.
"Would you mind pointing that somewhere else?" I think that's what a normal teenager would ask. After all, I don't need them knowing that with a flick of the wrist I could kill them. At least not if I want to figure a way out of this. Preferably while destroying that arm.
Two of the men sneer at my request, the third is more hesitant. " I wanted something for a stick up. I don't want anything to do with killing a kid."
"I'm all for me living," I take a step forward. They don't seem to notice. The one holding the arm rolls his eyes. He mumbles something about a boss then passes the weapon to his less skeptical friend who, in turn, points it at me. "My father will kill me if I die here, so if I could just leave, that would be great."
"Quiet!" the armed man commands. "Do you think you're funny?" He tries to threateningly take a step closer to me. I say try because he's as scary as a new born calf. All it does is make it easier for me to destroy that weapon. I smirk, about to answer, when someone beats me to it.
"I think he's hilarious. I mean, he's not as funny as me, but certainly a close second." A guy wearing a full body, red and black, morph suit with a spider on his chest swings in before doing a flip to land between me and the arms dealers. He looks like the person from last night. The same one Peter's obsessed with. What's his name? Webman? Spiderboy? It's something like that. He's some hero that creates enough fear to scare the buyer into running away. "Don't worry citizen, I will protect you." I hum, not really convinced.
The only criminal left charges up his weapon. A blue glow similar to the explosion it produces surrounds the arm. He gets ready to fire at us. I don't give him the chance. I step out from behind my human shield while grabbing the knife hidden in my boot (If you lived in New York, you would carry a weapon too). Slingerkid raises his arm, probably to fend off the attack, at the same time that I throw the knife. The pulse of light dies when the knife pierces the forearm.
"Whoa," The arachnid based hero takes a step back in surprise. The other guy curses. "That was so cool!" His voice raises a couple octaves. Realizing this, he clears his throat and drops it back to a fake deep voice. "I mean, nice job." He gives me an awkward thumbs up.
"Thanks, but should we be letting them get away like that?" I point to the van that's rapidly pulling away.
"On it," he slips out of his low voice again. I'm sure I've heard him somewhere before. He shoots a web out of his hand. It sticks to the bumper and drags him after the van.
"Yep, you've definitely got this," I say to no one.
Well, guess I can go to the apartment now. The screeching of metal comes from the direction the van drove off in. Just one step into the shadows and I'm gone. "Every time," I groan in frustration and let the shadows devour me. I've gotten better with shadow travel over the past months, but even at normal levels I have trouble with moving objects. Honestly, I'm surprised I even make it when I land in the back of the same van the weapons dealers are using. One of the weapon dealers is leaning out where there probably should be a door. I'm not completely sure, but I don't think the masked hero is out there any more. The driver is the the first to notice me. The van swerves, almost knocking the friend onto the road. "Watch it." the sadly unflattened dealer scolds. He turns back around, clearly surprised to see me if his unhinged jaw is anything to go by. "What the f-" he starts when I jab him in the throat, turning his curse into a choked gasp for air
"Careful, there's a child present." A smirk over takes me. A quick knee to his more private parts and a blow to the head with the hilt of my sword is all it takes to knock him out. After fighting killer robots, monsters, deities, and powerful demi-gods, sometimes it's easy to forget how fragile regular mortals are. If I couldn't sense his life force, I would have thought I killed him. The driver must think the same thing. I can see his widened eye in the rear view mirror.
"Look dude, I don't want any trouble." We both know that's not really true. If it was, we wouldn't be in this situation in the first place.
"Then stop the van and turn yourself in." I decide to humor him. He shakes his head so I point my sword through the seats where it hovers right near his neck for a little incentive. I can hear him gulp.
"You hurt my buddy."
"He's still alive. It's not like I killed him."
"You destroyed our gear."
"Yep."
"The boss isn't going to be happy." My sword quivers as I shrug.
"Probably not, but he isn't here right now. I am."
"You're just a kid." I roll my eyes. This is getting tedious.
"A kid with that can kill you any second, now, stop the van before I lose my patience and make you," A sliver of anger slips though my calm facade. I should be at the apartment sleeping or binge watching another show, not threatening a petty criminal.
"If you say so," He sighs.
He slams on the the breaks. I ram into the back of the passenger seat due while my sword almost slips out of my grip as it almost slashes through the dash board. The sudden stop leaves me disoriented when he floors the gas. I'm thrown back. Tripping over the unconscious body of the other arms dealer, I all but fall out of the van. It's only thanks to my sword getting stuck in the wall that I don't. There's open air behind me, and any attempts to pull myself forward could cause my sword to dislodge. What to do. What to do. Think, I've gotten out of more dangerous situations than this. The van runs over a pothole. With the speed it's going, the vehicle is actually airborn for a moment. The wheels it the road violently, jarring the entire thing. That extra little push is enough to make me lose my hold on my sword and tumble out of the van.
I really try to land in a roll, but it's not like I was prepared for this. The best I can do is barely protect my head from splitting open when I hit the ground. Gods, everything hurts. Can blood come from so many scrapes and cuts without killing me? I lay there, glad that another car hasn't come to run me over yet, when a giant bird-man thing flies over head. It's carrying a screaming red thing. The Spider hero. Because the fates apparently don't think this night is already bad enough, now I have to deal with trying to save him again. Well, sorry Fates, but I don't do heights. Have some other demigod handle the super heroes, I'm done. A second wave of pain surges through my body, though I don't think this one has anything to do with the rocks digging in to my skin. This feels warmer, closer to when I drank fire water. "Fine, fine," I pant. "I get it, that would be breaking my promise." The pain eases slightly. I pull the shadows around me and travel in what I hope is the right direction.
I filter the shadows until I end up back at the river just in time to see red spandex hero crashing through the water. First air, now water, may luck is getting worse. Standing on the shore, I try to figure out if I should rick my uncle's wrath or wait and hope they's resurface on their own. They don't. Instead, a soulless suit of amor comes out of no where, dives in, and rescues the younger hero. My first though is that it's the Ultron the hand came from. Then I notice the red an gold accents in place of dull silver metal. Stark. That's my cue to leave. Crisis averted. No risk of a fate worse than death. I can go home, drink some nectar, and sleep this all away. But, no. My feet decided to have me follow the duo to a playground, super.
In hindsight, spying on them from behind a bush while injured, really isn't a good idea. While Stark remotely scolds the arachnid, I do my best to avoid making a noise when a branch comes in contact with one of my many cuts. Though I'm sure now that I've heard that voice somewhere before. At some point during their one-sided conversation, the mask comes off. It's Peter! Of course! I knew it. Okay, I didn't really know, but I, you know what, never mind. My wounds are momentarily forgotten as I take in this new information. That internship he's always going on about makes a lot more sense now. I wait for Stark to finish belittling Parker and for them both to leave before standing.
"Fancy seeing you here," a mechanized voice says. I spin around, as much as I can with my leg being asleep, and come face to amor with the Ironman suit. He must have noticed me and circled back around after Parker left.
"Stark," I basically sneer. I rather not deal with him tonight. I don't have the mental tolerance for his ego right now.
"It's been a while. I think it's time we've talked." I frown as my mood plummets to the Underworld.
