Peter cursed. He was just getting done with his fight for the night and this was happening? Was this some kind of trick by one of the rogues or could it...

No matter. His Spider sense was clear. He had to get himself out of danger first and foremost.

The smoke spread, too thick for even his eyes to see through. Coughing, he took the few steps he needed to get out of the cage and peered up. The cloud reached over his head but it wasn't yet high enough to completely block the glare of the artificial lights on the ceiling above. Not hesitating, he jumped up, landing smoothly on the steel bars that formed the top of the fighting rink. With several inches separating them from each other, it would have been easy for a regular human to slip and get their foot caught in between but, to him, keeping his balance was child's play.

As he had hoped, the artificial fog hadn't reached up to that point yet and most of the arena was still free from it. Unfortunately, this reprieve was only temporary are several other explosions went off around the large room and the smoke began to spread again. It closed in around the rink, washing over him in seconds. Before it reached him, he managed to spot a few shapes dropping down from above, some landing among the packed crowd, some jumping down next to the cage he was crouching on. He recognized a few of the outfits from the chase he had been involved in a few nights earlier. Not criminals then.

I thought this event was supposed to be safe from law enforcement, what are the Bats doing there?

There was no time to think too much about it. The crowd panicked, clambering over each other to try and get to the exits, by now already completely invisible, swallowed by the dense clouds. He could hear them cursing, yelling. Some of them had drawn weapons and the flash of gunfire broke through the darkness. He hoped nobody would get hurt. He knew what could happen when a crowd rushed to a single door and, although he suspected there were more than one way to get out of the arena, it did not make it any less dangerous. If a crush happened, he would have to intervene and do his best to get it to clear out. He did not, however, have time to decide on it, as he felt the weight of another person settle on the cage in front of him.

Without his eyes, he could only trust his ears, nose and his built in sense of tremors. Thankfully, he was wearing short sleeves, which made it easier for his body to feel the world around him. Whoever had decided to drop down next to him was still a good twenty feet away, on the opposite side of the rink. They were slightly taller and heavier than him, but not enough to be Jason or the Bat, even Nightwing wouldn't fit the bill. He could hear them breathe through some kind of mask, either to keep the smoke out of their lungs or because there was some sort of neutralizing agent in it. Noted. He would be breathing as little as he could afford to, then. Even he was not immune to lung damage.

"I would advise you not to resist." A male voice. Young. Around his age? He thought so, at least. It was a bit difficult to tell, with a barrier between the other vigilante's mouth and the smoke filled air.

"That's not very good advice." Peter replied, making his voice louder, although he wasn't quite yelling yet. The crowd was so loud, he doubted someone without the gift of super hearing would be able to discern his words. "Are you the guy who tasered me?"

Footsteps.

Whoever it was, he had no issue walking on the bars, easily keeping his balance. Peter sincerely hoped he wouldn't have to resort to violence. Not only was he emotionally exhausted, he had also been the one telling Jason he didn't want any trouble from the Bats. Beating one of them up seemed like a sure way to make the situation even worse.

"I am." The voice admitted. Somewhat surprisingly, the young vigilante added: "Sorry about that."

Well, at least he seemed sincere.

"Are you going to do it again?"

Under him, he heard people running into the cage, several of them crouching around Bane. He could make out zipping sounds, although it was hard to focus in between all the yelling and the fact he was being approached by one of the Bats. Most of his attention remained on the figure that was slowly walking in his direction. By now, he had closed his eyes, letting his other senses guide him. He imagined the shape of a young man, about a dozen and a half feet away from his position.

"Do you know who you're working with? Do you have any idea what kind of trouble he put you in by making you fight here?" The voice asked, covering up the sleek tone of metal sliding out of a sheath. A blade? No... The shape wasn't right.

Why did he have to fight two guys with staffs in one night? That seemed a bit unfair. Hopefully this one wasn't a metahuman or on any drugs.

"I can't help but notice," Peter began, hyper aware of the people gathering under him, of the fact he could hear Bane's crumpled form being shifted around. "That you did not say 'no' to my question."

"You know what they say about liars." The staff swirled, cutting through the air, disturbing the smoke. "Now be nice and give up. Red Hood is my only target, I don't have anything against you, despite what you've been tricked into doing."

Red Hood... A familiar name. Where had he heard it before? The other boy was obviously not referencing the fairy tales.

"No can do, friend."

The teen facing him sighed, sounding genuinely disappointed in his reaction.

He did not need his Spider sense to dodge the oncoming attack. It had been a simple, slow stroke, meant to threaten him more than truly hit him. He rolled away, grabbing the bars under him with his hands and springing up towards the center of the cage. He landed smoothly, listening as the vigilante turned around then began walking again, taking his time to get to him. Was he trying to delay? Why was he moving so slowly? He took a few more steps back, listening closely. He thought he could feel Bane being rolled over, which couldn't have been pleasant for the man, with all of his broken bones.

"You are fighting to protect someone who does not deserve it. He risked your life by putting you there. I don't know what game he's playing, but he doesn't have me fooled. No vigilante would come here."

"You are assuming way too much." Jason had not put him there, Ivy had. Whatever bias the Bats had against his friend, it was severely clouding their judgement. Did they not see him come in with her? Did they just assume they were all working together? He could see it happening but it was so far from the truth he had trouble believing anyone could think that.

The next attack came much faster, aiming straight for his head then swerving around to poke towards his ribs. He dodged both of the blows with ease, not wanting to retaliate quite yet. He could end the fight easily but his Spider sense had not stopped tingling since that first smoke bomb went off. More worryingly, it seemed to get more intense the closer the teen vigilante got to him. What it meant, he had no idea, but he wanted to be as careful as he could. Thankfully, even if his mind was exhausted, his body was still feeling fresh and he had no issues staying a few steps away at all times. The boy, Robin, Red Robin or whoever he was, was not quite as skilled as Bane had been and he lacked the super strength that would have made his strikes dangerous. Still, Peter's neck was tingling for a reason, he wasn't going to ignore it just because he thought himself stronger.

"I have to ask again..." The blows continued, switching rhythm, three of them coming in quick succession, a powerful stroke, another five fast ones. "... Do you know who you're working with?" A swipe for his feet, coming back up in an arc aiming at his head. "Hood might have Nightwing convinced but I doubt he changed his ways so suddenly. This just proves I was right."

Another swipe at his legs. Peter tossed himself into a backflip, too fast for his opponent to take advantage of it. He landed at the very edge of the cage, still engulfed in dark smoke.

"The man you work with is a murderer." A thrust to his head, he had to bend back to let it fly over him, then flip to the side to avoid a downward knock. "A drug dealer." A kick came for his midsection, paired with another brutal swipe of the staff. He ducked both. "A crime lord."

A thump. Someone else landing on the roof of the rink, behind the attacking vigilante. Peter didn't need his eyes to be open to know who it was, he recognized the weight distribution, the grace with which the figure moved. He hadn't expected to feel this relieved when Jason finally showed himself, but almost immediately, he relaxed, letting out a long sigh. Finally, he didn't have to deal with a crisis alone. It was a wonderful change of pace. Still, he had a lot of questions to ask his friend, once this was all over.

"Such high praise coming from you." The newcomer snarked, voice sounding equally muffled. He must also be wearing headgear of some kind. He thought he could feel a metallic shape, a helmet, around the teen's head. "You forgot to mention I only kill people who deserve it."

So this was Red Hood.

In an instant, the vigilante was away from Peter and running towards Jason. There had been no hesitation, it was an immediate reaction. Was this what he had been attempting all along? Luring his partner out to get to him, knowing he wouldn't be able to take a metahuman by himself? The noise inside of the rink had not stopped, moving towards the stairs now, which were still in absolute chaos. Blessedly, a crush had not yet happened as many seemed to disoriented to be able to reach the doors. That was a miracle in itself.

"As if that's any excuse for murder!"

A smash. The two of them were clashing, staff against fists. Jason dealt with the weapon much more expertly than Peter, blocking and diverting it, weaving around it with ease. Both of the fighters smelled of barely restrained rage. There was definitely history behind them, something very dark and serious.

"Kid!" Despite having to dodge and parry, the rogue turned aspiring vigilante had no trouble talking as he fought. "Go get what I gave you!"

It took a few seconds for the meta to understand what his partner meant but, once he did, he felt torn. Would it not be better if he stayed to help? Sure, he did not want to retaliate and risk worsening their relationship with the Bats, but he could easily take a few of them on his own and allow them to escape. But if his friend thought it necessary for him to go grab his gas mask, he must suspect the group of heroes would use toxins again him. They might not know about his metabolism, which would make the poison less potent, but it remained a major risk.

He wouldn't be able to help if he was drugged. Preventing it from happening was his priority.

"I'll be back!" He called out, crouching and jumping, far above the two struggling teenagers, up towards the ceiling.

For a brief moment, he was high enough that he brushed the top of the room, giving him a sobering view of the rolling wave of dark clouds filling it. Smoke bombs were still going off, keeping the darkness inside, even as the doors leading to the sewers let some of it escape. He heard the young man who had attacked him curse, heard some of the more famous rogues giving orders to their subordinate, heard doors slam open and feet thumping, running, racing to get to the exits. There hadn't been any trampling yet.

"Nightwing!" The boy fighting Jason yelled. "The meta is escaping!"

"I'll be there. And we will have a talk about this, Red Robin." A familiar voice replied immediately, from the bottom of the stairs that led into the cage. "You three, get Bane out. Exit 19-C. Avoid confrontation if you can. I'll be right back."

A zipping sound, then a whoosh. Someone was coming after him.

Peter plunged back into the smoke, landing in front of the locker room, having to shove a few people away as he ran up to it. He smashed his shoulder into the door, sending it flying open. Black fog poured into the small space and he slammed it close as fast as he could, stopping it from fully filling up the tiny room. A layer of darkness still covered the floor, swallowing his legs up to his knees, swirling lazily around his feet and ankles. He paused. There, in front of him, in between the entrance and the locker he was aiming for, stood a man.

Despite the ceiling lights shining overhead, the vigilante seemed to be made from darkness itself, his body armor and cape melting into the thick layer of black smoke as if he was part of it. The Bat had the same presence as he remembered, intimidating, domineering. He only had to turn his head towards him for Peter to start shivering and begin to wonder if he really needed his gas mask after all. Why was Batman even in this locker room? Didn't he have better things to do in the arena, like arresting some of the rogues that were still there?

A soft click tore him away from his wondering, followed by a slow hiss, coming directly from the vigilante's chest.

Alright.

He did need his gas mask after all.

That meant he had to go through this guy, somehow.

And he had to do it without taking any air in, just in case. He could hold his breath for more than thirty minutes, perhaps up to an hour if he pushed it, so it wouldn't be an issue. In fact, he thought he could even go past that if he really had to. That wouldn't be the hard part. The hard part would be to keep his mouth shut until he got his hands on his jacket. Now that was a challenge.

"You again." The Bat spoke with the same deep voice, void of any emotions. "For a newcomer, you seem to have quickly found yourself in dangerous company."

Nightwing would be there anytime now, he had to be fast. Gritting his teeth behind his closed lips, Peter started walking towards the row of lockers, ready for anything. His Spider sense was screaming at him to run, give it up and get to safety. He tried to quell it. He had to do this. He had to do this and avoid murdering any of his fellow vigilantes.

"You know, I have nothing against you." Batman went on, now fully turning to face him. He was holding one of Bane's tubes, which he stashed away into his cape, leaving both of his hands free. "You have good intentions, no doubt. Your actions against Firefly say as much."

Peter froze.

It took everything he had not to open his mouth to ask how. He managed to keep it shut, although he couldn't help his eyes from widening, couldn't help but stagger slightly.

"We found your DNA and part of your suit at the scene." The vigilante explained calmly, the picture of cool, composed confidence. "It matched what we collected from the remains of my car."

He wanted to step out, step back. They did not know his name but they knew his face, they knew his job, they knew his identity. They had linked his civilian self to his vigilante one, they had seen through the mask. How long had it taken them, weeks? Days? Hours?

"You are putting your trust in the wrong man." The Bat crossed his arms. "Red Hood is a dangerous and unstable individual. I know this better than anyone. Fighting by his side will only enable him and drag you down to his level. Did you know he approached you with the intent of recruiting you?"

Their talk in the garage after the car chase, had told Peter as much. It still hurt to be reminded of it but he had decided it wouldn't be enough to make him change his mind. If even the leader of Gotham's only vigilante team saw no hopes for Jason, who else would try to help him? He had to have someone on his side now that he wanted to try another way, especially if he was the one wanting to change. Doing it on his own would risk pushing the older teen towards more violence and despair. Being abandoned would not do him any good. Worse, it could lead him back to the criminal world.

Still silent, the boy shook his head and began to walk again. Why was Nightwing not there? He could still hear screaming and gunshots on the outside. What was happening? Had anyone died? Was anyone injured? He had to get the mask and run back out as quickly as he could.

"Your loyalty is misplaced." The hero shook his head slowly, sounding slightly disappointed, although it was hard to tell with his utter lack of apparent emotions. Gas was still hissing out of his armor. Peter's bare arms and legs began to itch. He needed to get to that locker. "I would be happy to take you in, help you nurture what you already have. There is no need to talk of your past, even this, the arena, can be forgiven. You are new to Gotham, you feel lost. It's perfectly understandable."

Why is it understandable for me but not for Jason? He thought, keeping his opinion to himself, now only a few steps away from the center of the room.

"There are three other teenagers your age training under me, you are welcome to join them at anytime. I will provide you with shelter and food, you won't have to do this kind of-"

Peter was done listening.

He started running, as fast as he could, interrupting the vigilante in the middle of his speech. He used all of his speed in this one burst, pushing as hard as he could, like he rarely did. He fully expected to be able to get past the man, who, if sources were to be believed, did not have any meta ability powerful enough to be of note, but-

Something caught his ankle, a hand landed on his back, destabilizing him. For a flash, a fraction of a second, he was reminded of Jason, shoving him to the ground and explaining how his lack of experience could be deadly. Then, the memory was gone and he was being held over the floor, arms twisted behind his back, something pressing at the back of his neck. A needle. They were going to sedate him, force him back to their headquarters whether he wanted it or not. How they could think that would win them any points, he had no idea.

No!

He kicked back with one of his legs, balanced on one feet and bending forward to allow himself to strike up at the hero's chest. The blow connected with a loud thud and the Bat went flying, crashing against one of the walls. The syringe fell to the ground, swallowed by the dark smoke that was still flooding in from the small crack at the bottom of the door. He did not hesitate, running towards the locker he had put his clothes in. He opened the door so hard and so fast it tore out of its hinges and crashed to the ground, which he ignored, shoving a hand in his jacket's pocket and taking the mask out.

Palms made slick with sweat and beads of toxin, he used the still clean jacket to wipe his face then pushed the metal object on his head. It shut around his jaw with a click, tightening over his nose and-

BEHIND

His Spider sense was rarely this strong. He threw himself to the ground, straight into the fog, and something crashed above him, falling back down to-

CRAWL AWAY

He pushed against the lockers with his hands, sending himself back a few feet, just enough to see a net fall in front of him. Its wires were almost as thick as his wrist and it was clearly made of metal chain.

"What am I, a fish?" He asked the Bat, jumping back up and turning to face him. "That was a bit rude, don't you think?"

His own voice was muffled now, he tasted artificial air as it was filtered then pushed into his mouth. It felt weird but he tried to ignore it. He could now breathe without risking being drugged, but he was far from safe. Not only did the older man know about his identity, he obviously was not taking any risk with fighting him one on one. How many other tricks did he have up his sleeves? What was next, another round of tasering? Or was Nightwing finally going to come bursting in, evening the odds in the Bats' favor?

"I see Hood gave you some of his stolen equipment." Batman did not sound very pleased at the idea.

"You know..." Peter began, looking around the room for any exit that did not involve having to barrel through the vigilante again. Evidently, that kick had not been enough to injure him, since he was now back to where he had been, blocking the path to the exit, arms crossed and appearing perfectly in control. "... For a hero, you don't really act like one."

"I have never called myself a hero, I simply do what needs to be done." The man's armor had stopped hissing gas. Either he was running out or he saw it as a waste, which meant the mask was indeed working as Jason has promised it would.

"Great sales pitch for your team."

"I somehow doubt joining an established group of vigilante, which would fund, train and house you is any worse than working alongside a known criminal."

Perhaps he could use the element of surprise by sticking up to a wall or the ceiling? No... Batman knew he was Spider-Man, he might have deduced his powers already, or perhaps his DNA had given it away, either way he couldn't take the risk. He had to find something else, and he had to do it fast. The room was filling with smoke, it was up to his waist now, and he could still hear fighting in the main arena. Delaying would only mean Jason had to fight on his own longer. He had to help him!

"That's what I mean, you know." His eyes darted left and right, trying to find something, anything. "For a guy who says he wants to help, you don't do much to really help people."

A pause. The Bat actually seemed surprised. He must not hear that one often. He had to keep talking, get him distracted, then...

The locker door. It could work. It had to work. He kept talking.

"You beat them up then toss them in Arkham or in jail, where they have no chance of rehabilitation."

"There are programs in both of those places to help inmates." The man sounded more annoyed now, his feelings bleeding through his cold persona. Getting talked down to was most definitely not in his habits. "You judge my actions based on flawed information. Do not trust what Hood says, he would rather have me kill those I send there."

It was working, he had to keep on pushing, get him to talk more, give himself time to reach down.

"Seems like those programs haven't been working very well, have they? Recidivism looks to be a bit of an epidemic in the city you protect." The air quotes were heavily implied and Peter hoped he wasn't pushing too hard. Getting the man to hate him by insulting his life's work was not the best outcome this could have, but he needed a way out that didn't put him in range of another syringe or risked him striking the man too hard. So, he kept on going. "Having programs in place is good but they don't appear to be helping people like Red Hood. Sending them back there isn't going to do anything except turn them away from whatever redemption they could get."

The Bat uncrossed his arms, the only outward sign of discomfort. Even his scent was masked by his armor. What kind of man was he, under the cowl?

"Hood thinks you will never give him a shot at redemption," The teen said, moving his foot under the smoke until he found the broken form of the locker door. "If all you can think of is to send him to an asylum that is so famous for malpractice even an outsider like me knows about it, then he's right." He slid his shoe under the panel, ready to kick it up, waiting for the right time. "He wants to be a vigilante, he wants to help. Some people need more attention and support than a standardized system can give them. If you can't see that, then you're not just a poor hero, you're an idiot."

Batman's jaw twitched. He opened his mouth. "Hood is-"

Peter kicked up, in one motion, he grabbed the locker door and tossed it directly at the hero, as hard as he could. The man caught it in the air before it hit him but that one second where he was not staring him down gave the boy time to jump, leaping towards the armored vigilante. He kicked outward, bending the flimsy metal shield with the strength of the blow and sending the Bat sliding back towards the door. He followed and kicked again, this time hard enough to push the adult against the wood panel and break it open, causing a wave of black smoke to rush around the both of them.

"Give up!" He yelled, leaping up, far away from any syringe, needle or net.

Immediately, he heard a zipping, felt something follow him from the ground, faster than he was. He would not have time to land on the cage before he was caught again. Thankfully, he had pushed far enough that he was on a direct collision course with the ceiling. He flipped in the air and extended his arms, sticking to the stone and getting ready to intercept his pursuer. He couldn't hear anything from the inside of the cage, Bane was gone and so were the people who had surrounded him. On top of it however, he felt three people. One, the smaller in stature, was laying down and smelled of blood and gunpowder. The other two were much larger and taller and were engaging in a brutal fight.

Jason had somehow gotten his hand on the teen vigilante's staff and was using it to keep Nightwing, who was also wielding a weapon of some kind, at bay. Both of them reeked of blood and sweat and he heard several blows connecting on both sides. They seemed evenly matched for now, but it wouldn't take much to push the balance one way or the other.

Batman reached him, cape whooshing behind him. Peter welcomed him with a kick down, aiming directly at his head. The vigilante somehow managed to change direction mid-air, the movement accompanied by another zipping sound.

"Great way to recruit people, pal." He told the approaching shadow. "I definitely want to work for you now."

"You have been fooled. He only wants to use you." Was the reply he got, spoken in a monotone, neutral voice. "Why else would he lead you here? Make you fight someone like Bane? This is low, even for him. Involving Nightwing is even lower, I will not let him corrupt anyone else."

"You know he didn't make me do any of this, right?"

His words didn't seem to matter.

Batman, who had been hovering nearby, hanging from a metallic rope jammed into the ceiling, sprung into action once more.

The air crackled with electricity and Peter barely had time to vault away, forced to fall back down. Several wires crashed were he had been crouching, each of them lit up with threatening arcs of white and blue energy. The time for pleasant conversation was over then. He must have overdone his taunting. Still, he knew he could make it out. He had to. He regained his bearings, aiming at the cage, wishing he had his webs with him so he could be faster, have more mobility. Why did the ceiling have to be so high up?

His neck tingled.

The Bat intercepted him as he fell, crashing into him with all the strength of an extremely muscular, heavily armored adult man. Peter cursed, pushing him away with a two-legged kick before the man had the chance to put any drug in his body. Being sedated and arrested was not how he wanted to end the night thank you very much. Down, on the roof of the cage, he could hear Jason and Nightwing arguing. Further, around them, thugs and crime lords were flooding out of the arena or beginning their own brawls, although some of them were still too disorientated to do anything but stumble around blindly.

Back on the cage, the two young men were still fighting, throwing insults at each other, remaining evenly matched.

"Is this your idea of light back up, you absolute jackass?" Jason screamed, hitting his opponent, his blow striking flesh with a thwack, which was immediately followed by a grunt as he himself was pushed back.

Batman zipped down again, throwing several things at Peter. Although they were blunt and he managed to keep them from touching his head, it hurt enough to make him curse. Still, he managed to punch the man back, sending him flying away, to be swallowed by the smoke again. He was almost to the ground now, but he had deviated from his goal and would be landing in the seats. Why couldn't he just leave them alone? Fighting in the Pits was illegal but there were worse criminals there. Whatever grudge he had against his friend, this was becoming extremely dangerous. They had to get out.

Under him, he could hear more yelling. He tried to aim as close to the rink as he could, knowing he would not make it.

"You think I could come here on my own? You know B, Hood. That's ridiculous." Two weapons clashed, metal grinding against metal then pushing away from each other with a clang. "And there is no more back up now that you shot him. This is a step too far."

"The little fucker had it coming, attacking the guy I told you to protect!"

Wait... what?

Peter landed on the back of a plastic seat, itself nailed down to a long row of stone and cement. It broke under the impact, forcing him to jump again, this time closer to the cage.

"You can't expect him to trust you after what you did to him." Another thud but, this time, Jason was the one to stumble away. "And what are you even doing here with that kid? Getting him to fight Bane? After that whole thing two days ago, really? Do you know how long it took me to convince them you weren't involved?"

"This is why I told you to come on your own! You fucking moron!"

"So we can get killed fighting our way out of there? I can't get any gear from the cave without B noticing and you know it!"

More struggling, one of them broke away for a few seconds, only to be dragged back in for a punch to the gut.

"I managed to get my gear just fine, you shit liar. You just can't do anything without asking your master, can you?"

"What if I wanted to show them you changed, you idiot? Why did you put that kid in there? How the fuck am I supposed to salvage this?"

The meta's feet hit the stairs and he sprinted down, ignoring the zipping noises behind him, the Bat getting closer and closer. He had to break up the fight, get Jason to leave the arena with him. They were in over their heads and he had absolutely no desire to make it worse. He could ask questions later, and he would. He had to find out what this meant, but now was not the time. He had chosen his side. If nobody would help his friend (he hoped he was truly his friend), he at least had to try and give it his all.

Metal met metal again, faster and faster, a whirlwind of blows, two men fighting, dancing, their styles familiar yet completely unique in their own way. One took a hit to the jaw, the other one to the shoulder. Still, they yelled at each other, barely audible in the midst of the other screams, the other fights that had broken out in between the different groups of thugs. Some of them were blaming each other for the way the night had ended. Penguin, apparently, was a known backstabber and many were holding his crew responsible for the debacle.

"J- Hood, you have to see this is insane. I thought we were busting the place, not helping use some kid as bait!"

"I'm never trusting you again with shit like this!" Staff met body armor and Nightwing barely avoided falling through the metal rods, recovering with a flip that left him open to a vicious kick. Peter reached the bottom floor just in time to hear him tumble and almost fall down. "You'll never be anything but a dog! Go back to your owner, shithead!"

Finally, he made his way up to the top of the cage, and just in time too, as he could feel Batman landing right behind him. He only had seconds, perhaps less. He didn't have time to speak or warn his friend, he just had to act.

He rushed forward and, feeling like a terrible person, kicked Nightwing just hard enough that the man was sent flying off the cage and crashed to the ground. Ignoring the bleeding form of the teenager he had fought earlier, he ran to Jason and grabbed his arm, tugging and forcing him to follow as he jumped back down. He knew they would be chased. He didn't care. They had to get out of there before one of them died. He hoped that gunshot hadn't been fatal. He didn't think his friend would kill a vigilante like this but he was beginning to think he did not know him very well after all.

Thankfully, his partner followed him without protest, climbing the stairs with him and heading for one of the exits.

"He shot him. Twice." Nightwing was telling the leader of his team, sounding both astonished and utterly disappointed. "Shit. I thought he was done with this."

"I heard over the com. I told you not to trust him. Get Red Robin back to the cave, I'm giving chase."

"B, you-"

"No arguing. Do it."

The voices faded the further away they got from the center of the arena, disappearing into the rumble of the disturbed crowd. Still, they ran.

The two of them burst out of the smoke filled arena into one of the many sewer tunnels. The air felt thin, despite the whisps of fogs that still slithered out of the door. Jason, who was indeed wearing a helmet of some kind, and a bright red one at that, tapped Peter on the shoulder, motioning at him to follow. The both of them were going as fast as the taller boy could, passing several fleeing criminals as they sprinted. They turned again and again, followed by the steady sound of zipping and of footsteps thundering after them. It was getting closer but not quite close enough to catch up.

Waiting for them, in the corner of a sewer tunnel, hidden behind a pile of stones and dirty earth, was a familiar bike.

Of course.

It should have been surprising but, really, it was almost expected for the thing to follow them wherever they went. Nobody was as meticulous about escape plans as Peter's new partner in crime. They hopped on as the Bat rounded the last angle before he reached them. He was aiming whatever allowed him to zip around so fast directly towards them, his cape fluttering behind him from the sheer speed he was going at. His scent was still hidden but his entire being emanated pure fury. Rage of a kind the meta teen had rarely seen before.

Jason stepped on the gas, the bike roared to life, starting at a breakneck pace, shooting into the tunnel and barely avoiding splattering them on the opposite wall.

Batman growled, turning in the air and following. He was going terribly fast himself, enough that a mistake would likely kill him. Yet he did not hesitate, flying after them and somehow managing to keep up with the vehicle. The environment made it hard to push the engine to its limit and Peter was forced to bat away a few more projectiles, lest they hit Jason in the back. What did the guy think would happen if one of them did hit? A fall could easily kill the one of them who was human.

"Never again." Jason muttered, evidently to himself, expertly maneuvering and weaving through obstacles and tight corners. "Never asking him again. What an asshole. Never again. How could he think I would... Never again."

Well, Peter thought, this was a complete disaster.

If they made it out of there with their freedom, they needed to have a long, very long talk.