Sins of our Fathers

Chapter One

"When are you going home, Davian?"

His mother had been asking that question a lot lately.

Davian wanted to give her reassurance, tell her that he would be safe and sound, back in the warmth of their suburban home soon. But lies were reserved for those who could afford the luxury of protection, and ironically, he couldn't bear to afford such comfort to his beloved mother.

Lying in the chill of New York's nighttime skyline, Davian's hand moved with practiced ease as he slid a sleek bullet into his top-grade 7.62 Marksman Rifle. His body was practically molded against the cold, unforgiving steel. His fingers wrapped around the grip, each digit melding into the hardened material like a second skin. Nervous anticipation fluttered in his stomach as he glanced through the scope.

"Should touch down around midnight." Davian's reply was soft yet firm, his ice-blue eyes scanning the bustling crowd beneath him, seeking out the familiar pattern of his target.

The sigh that filtered through his earpiece was heavy with weariness, a potent mix of worry and remonstration. "I'm uncomfortable with these late shifts you're pulling. What if you get hurt?"

A chuckle threatened to escape his lips, but he quickly quashed it, transforming it into a weary shake of the head instead. "We need the money, mom." He stated, injecting his voice with a touch of steely resolve, "You need these treatments."

"My insurance is supposed to-"

"That insurance can only handle so much." He concluded for her, unspoken words lingering heavily in the charged silence following. "Even the overtime can help with the expenses."

His target loomed into his peripheral vision: a middle-aged brute with inked scales winding around muscular limbs. His focus was split, fluttering between the serrated blades he was intricately juggling and the raucous laughter of his coarse companions.

"You shouldn't have to grind yourself thin for me." Her voice was a mere whisper, a ghostly reminder of the vibrant woman she used to be. "It's my responsibility to take care of you, not the other way around."

With a seamless motion, Cypher reached for his encrypted communication device, fingers dialing in a codified query - "Green?"

He readjusted his focus to the scope, placing the targeting dot strategically above the man's shoulder. He had to factor in the variables – range, wind speed, humidity. A one-kilometer shot was in no way an easy feat.

"This was my choice, Mom." His voice enveloped the words with a mantle of mature resolution. "You spent the entirety of my childhood ensuring I had the world at my feet. It's only fair that I return the favor now."

"But you're seventeen!" His mother retorted fiercely, the force of her words crackling through his earpiece. "You're the one that needs taking care of."

"I like to believe I've grown up a fair bit." Davian's breath slowed, his body falling in sync with the tranquil rhythm of the night, "And now I take care of myself. Now, what's for dinner?"

Most people at during the evening, but with his mother's health keeping her in the hospital, some concessions needed to be made.

"Ooh... Can we get Chinese?" she replied, her momentary glee warming his heart amid the cold, harsh task at hand.

"Chinese it is," He smiled, a slight ping from his device catching his attention, signaling the commencement of his objective – "Greenlight."

"I have to get back to work," His gloved finger brushed lightly over the trigger, the euphoniously whirring cityscape falling utterly silent beneath him. "I'll see you soon."

"Please wake me up when you get home, and don't forget the teriyaki sauce," her voice coated in drowsiness tugged at his heart, "Love you, pumpkin."

"Love you too," His heartbeat slowed, matching the steady pace of time's incessant ticking. With measured care, he disconnected the call.

And pulled the trigger.

Time has a funny way of adapting to moments of high intensity. For most, it rushes by in a frantic burst, leaving behind only a blur of unfocused memories. But for Davian, time did the opposite. It hung heavy in the air, couching each moment in slow motion. As his finger applied pressure to the trigger, his heart pounded with each tick of the second hand on an imagined clock.

He watched as the bullet fired from his rifle with deadly precision, its trajectory lit up by the neon city lights reflecting off its polished surface. In this frozen envelope of time, he could see every minute detail - down to the sharp point where death itself seemed to be cradled.

The bullet sped forward, spinning in pure symphony with the laws of physics, displacing air on its path like a glider cutting through water. It whistled as it flew betwixt leaves that hung lazily from overgrown branches dotted about the cityscape. As if performing an artful dance in slow motion, the bullet spared no leaf along its way as it brushed past them and continued along its errand.

A hair's breadth later, Davian watched as the bullet hit home—sinking into the flesh just above his target's right shoulder with gruesome diligence.

The fabric of his shirt tore effortlessly under the incoming ballistic force. At that moment, a splash of dark crimson slowly diffused within the material and dripped down onto the murky pavement below him.

And just like that, time jumped back to full speed like it often did for him.

Davian exhaled a troubled sigh and let his eyes stray away from the scene.

He had no illusions.

No excuses.

When his mom finds out what his 'job' actually entails, she'll probably disown him.

But at least she'll be alive to do so.

With a last glance at the chaotic scene unfolding below him, Davian stooped over and began to pack up his equipment. His fingers glided over the metal of his rifle, swiftly disassembling it with years of practiced ease.

The rifle broke down into its components - barrel, scope, stock, bolt - each part slotting neatly into a custom-fit foam compartment of his weathered backpack.

He pulled the heavy-duty zips of the backpack up and closed. Its weight was a familiar comfort. As he hoisted it onto his shoulder, a strange peace settled over him in the rigged atmosphere.

His feet moved automatically towards the exit.

The routine was a comforting guide in the face of unsavory tasks, and he took solace in the familiar steps. His hand flew out to catch the doorknob, its cold brass sending a shudder up his arm.

As he stepped out into the dark corridor, the door swung shut behind him with a resounding click.

In his heart, a bittersweet thought wormed its way forward.

'Dad would have been proud.'

Yes. His father would have been proud of him - for all that he was and all he had yet to become.

I==I

"Davian?"

A soft voice said near his ear. It was light, almost playful, like a boy experimenting with crescendo notes on a shiny, new piano.

A small hand tapped his shoulder, gently like a feather brushing against his skin. But Davian didn't move. His eyes remained closed, breath steady, mimicking the tranquility of deep slumber.

"He's not waking up," said the boy with a hint of worry, knotting his voice into a higher octave.

"Let me try," Another voice chimed in. It was softer, more feminine, and tender, like the rustle of silk sheets against bare skin.

The air shifted around Davian as the girl drew closer. He sensed her presence and felt the space around him grow warmer, more inviting. Her voice was like a sweet lullaby, caressing his senses, urging him gently to abandon the comfort of his sleep.

"Davian," She urged again, and his world stirred with her soft call. He could feel the chill of the room slowly being subdued by a streak of warmth seeping through him as the girl's palm brushed against his cheek. The sensation was enough to slowly peel him away from sleep's comforting embrace.

"Davian. Wake up."

Her voice was more assertive now. A hint of concern wavered through her words. It was as if her words were gentle rays of sunlight pushing through his closed eyelids, urging him to respond.

The sensation on his cheek was followed by another gentle shake on the shoulder, like a soft tapping of raindrops against a window. Davian opened his eyes to the sight of Gwen Stacy's worried face. Her brows furrowed with a cute crease in the middle, lips pouted as she bit the lower one anxiously. Her hair was a tumble of soft golden waves, haloed in the morning, light streaming in through the window.

"Finally!" Peter Parker, a good friend if there ever was one, breathed out a dramatic sigh from the foot of his bed. A look of relief replaced his usual cheeky smile, and a tiny bead of sweat rested on the bridge of his nose, making his glasses slip down slightly.

Davian cast a glance at his alarm clock.

He had to fight to bite back a nasty curse.

"Guys, it's 5 am..." Davian mumbled, running a hand through his messy hair. His eyes closed involuntarily against the intrusive light, seeking the comforting cover of darkness.

"And it's a school, you moron. You're usually awake by now," Gwen retorted with a touch of mild annoyance in her otherwise soft voice.

Davian sighed, pushing himself up into a sitting position. His joints creaked, his muscles ached, but he managed to pop open an eye and flash a sleepy smile at his worried friends.

"I'm up. I'm up," he said reassuringly. The room was a mess as it usually was, with piles of textbooks, tools, and clothes strewn across the floor. His computer blinked with dozens of unfinished tasks and homework waiting to be completed.

"Good. Now, let's get some food. You'll feel better," Peter said cheerily, clapping his hands together with an audible smack.

Both Gwen and Peter helped him up.

As they exited the room, he made a mental note to ensure he wouldn't worry them again. The more they paid attention to him, the harder it'd be to keep his 'work' life separate. They were the family that chose him when he preferred to be left alone, but their well-being mattered just as much as his mothers to him.

Quickly, Davian rummaged through his closet and pulled out a couple of items: A pair of worn-out jeans, a black t-shirt, and a comfy flannel shirt for good measure. He reached for his bookbag, feeling the familiar texture of weathered leather against his palm. It was filled with textbooks and notes, every object a silent testament to his persistent struggle to balance school and his other life.

His mind wandered back to the peculiar chain of events that led him to meet Peter and Gwen. He remembered the encounter as if it had happened yesterday. He was on a phone call then, caught in the throes of his mother's diagnosis, when Peter, the perennial victim of Flash's bullying, crashed into him.

Peter had just made a snide comment about some random thing, earning him a rough shove from Flash. Davian, his emotions already on edge, lost his cool and stepped up for Peter. It was a fierce showdown, which ended with all three of them being suspended.

That was where Gwen stepped in. The sweet, relentless Gwen Stacy, Peter's lifelong best friend. She involved herself in the hullabaloo and appeared on Davian's doorstep with a peace offering of cookies, ensnaring him into their friendly circle.

Shaking his head slightly, he moved away from the comfort of his room and made his way to the kitchen, where the familiar hustle-bustle of the Parker household welcomed him. He joined Gwen and Peter at the kitchen table with a resigned sigh, plopping down on the seat next to Peter.

A warm aroma enveloped the room as Ms. Parker brought out the sumptuous breakfast spread. She pressed a loving kiss on Peter's forehead before disappearing back into the kitchen, leaving the three teens to their meal.

When Peter's Aunt May and Uncle Ben learned about his situation, they insisted he stay in their guestroom rather than sleep alone in his house.

Davian didn't have the heart to tell them no straight out, so he compromised and stayed at their home on school nights. Now, he was a member of the Parker household for six months and counting.

Rolling his eyes good-naturedly at his friends' bright morning demeanors, Davian complained, "So, anyone want to tell me why I woke up so early?"

Peter exchanged a knowing glance with Gwen before he spoke, "Remember the field trip we told you about a month ago?"

Davian frowned, trying to recall amidst a multitude of things he had to memorize. Gwen gave him a patient smile. "The trip to Oscorp Tower?"

Davian's face paled. "That's today?" He asked, already knowing the answer. A groan escaped his lips.

Great. Just great.

Peter chortled at his exasperated expression. "Yeah, it's today, dude."

Gwen chimed in, twirling a lock of blonde hair around her finger. "We didn't want you to miss it."

"I swear, I would've forgotten my head if it wasn't attached," Davian muttered under his breath.

"Looks like you need more than your usual cup of coffee this morning," Peter jested, his spoon clinking against the ceramic bowl of cereal.

Davian shot him a stern look, "Very funny, Parker."

Gwen intervened, her voice slightly teasing, "You should be thankful to us, Davian. This field trip is going to be awesome."

Davian sighed, shaking his head slightly while popping a piece of toast into his mouth, "It better be."

"Hello, Oscorp technology up close? I'm pretty much drooling thinking about it," Peter responded, nearly spitting his cereal out in excitement.

Gwen chimed in, "Yeah, imagine what we could learn. It's going to be an educational goldmine."

"More like a minefield," Davian grumbled, "I can't believe you woke me up for this."

With a final shake of his head, he dug into his breakfast, his friends' delighted laughter ringing in his ears as they started planning for the day ahead.

For Davian, this was just another mundane day. But for Peter, Gwen, and their classmates, this was a day that would be remembered as the beginning of an extraordinary adventure.

As for Oscorp Tower and the secrets it held?

Only time will tell.

He should have known Osborne had something cooking in that tower of his.

I==I

With the morning sun brightening the New York skyline, Davian arrived at Oscorp Tower, his friends in tow. The towering building stood as a testament to Norman Osborn's ambition and power, its impressive glass facade reflecting the city in its cold, calculated symmetry.

As they stepped inside, a figure detached itself from a group of professionals. Davian recognized him immediately. A shock of sandy hair, icy blue eyes shimmering with restrained excitement, a sullen gravity offset by the faint residue of adolescence – Harry Osborn.

Harry was the same age as Davian, Peter, and Gwen, but he looked older, his shoulders bent with the burdens of his family empire. He was a friend but a distant one.

"Welcome to Oscorp," Harry's voice echoed in the grandiose foyer, "I hope you guys are as excited about this as I am."

"We can't wait, Harry," Gwen's eyes were stars sparkling with anticipation.

Peter chimed in eagerly, "This might be the biggest collection of tech and science in one place. I've got goosebumps!"

Davian observed their interaction, amusement painting a smirk on his face. They were like children in a candy store, except these candies were intricate pieces of technology and cutting-edge scientific innovation.

"Oh, believe me," Harry assured, "It's better than that."

Eyeing the three teens, Harry's gaze lingered on Davian, who was obviously trying to blend into the background, "Hey, Alrek, you awake? Don't look so excited."

With a derisive snort, Davian shrugged, "I'll try not to."

Harry's eyes glinted with a challenge as he strode back to the other professionals, "Suit yourself. You'll see."

As they ventured deeper into Oscorp, Davian had to grudgingly admit that perhaps this wouldn't be such a terrible day. Just maybe.

The tour took them into the inner workings of Oscorp, winding through its labyrinthine corridors. They finally arrived at one of the many high-tech laboratories Oscorp was celebrated for. Glazed partitions revealed internship students busily at work, running in and out of cubicles, their white lab coats blending against a backdrop of gleaming chrome and bustling theory.

Harry had seamlessly turned from the jovial friend to the diligent heir. He was with them, but his attention was dedicated to every nook and cranny of the tour. Yet, despite his steely demeanor, he couldn't resist whispering witty comments about the tour guide's simplified explanations for his friends to hear.

The laboratory was a technophile's dream come true.

Peter's eyes were wide as dinner plates, his mouth slightly gaping as he drank in the sights around him. He pointed at a complex machinery placed in a secure glass enclosure, "Wow, look at that! Is that a particle accelerator?"

Davian awarded him an amused shrug.

"I wonder...how much energy can it produce? What sort of experiments are they conducting with it?" Peter's mind was already on a race, eagerly diving into a pool of questions and possibilities.

Davian indulged his friend, "You know I don't have all the answers, right?"

He earned an accusing glance from Peter, who replied, "I was hoping my future partner-in-crime would help me explore this brave new world."

Laughing, Davian shook his head, "Keep dreaming, Parker."

His heart, though, was gently reassured by this normalcy. Peter by his side, curiosity flaring in his eyes, and Gwen nodding along with a shared sense of excitement.

Against the technologically advanced walls of Oscorp, a sense of belonging braided around them. They were just three friends in this vast, marvel-filled world, figuring it out step by step.

With mounting excitement, Peter pulled out a camera from his bag, a vintage Nikon DSLR he had borrowed from his uncle. The shutter clicked rhythmically as he dashed from one display to another, capturing every moment he could. His enthusiasm was infectious, not a usual sight at early morning tours.

Davian watched Peter bounce around the large exhibit like an overexcited rabbit, connecting the dots between what he had read in books and what was displayed before him. And as expected, it wasn't long before Peter's carefree enthusiasm caused a minor collision.

A young redhead with a vibrant energy about her came into view. Her surprise mirrored Peter's, but quick to recover, she picked herself up from the floor and brushed herself off.

"Watch where you're going, tiger," she drawled, her voice dipped in playful annoyance as Peter scrambled to pick up his fallen camera.

"Sorry, uh, ma'am—" Peter tried to save some face, but a look from Davian had him stumbling over his words.

Mary Jane Watson, or MJ as she insisted, merely chuckled at his flustered form. "Mary Jane. But you can call me MJ."

"Peter. Peter Parker." He managed to spit out his name while absorbing the shock of the collision.

"I see you're one of the shutterbugs then, Peter?" MJ pointed towards his camera, her emerald eyes sparkling under the fluorescent lights. The grin on her face was ear to ear: fun, unapologetic, and utterly endearing. "Mind taking a picture of me there?" She pointed towards a wall-sized display of Oscorp's nanotechnology prototype.

Peter's awkwardness transformed into excitement at the idea of a new subject to capture. "Sure, MJ. The pleasure's all mine."

"Make sure you get the lighting right, Peter." Davian jibed from the side, earning a scowl from Peter and a delighted laugh from MJ.

"All right, stand still. Smile, MJ," Peter told her as he adjusted the focus of his camera. The shutter blinked before capturing the red-headed sprite in her element, forever imprinting her carefree spirit in front of Oscorp's towering pride.

Peter and MJ slipped into an easy conversation. MJ effortlessly guided the discourse with her magnetic charisma while Peter attempted to keep up. He fumbled over his words, tripping on his enthusiasm while Mary Jane reveled in his flustered attempts with delighted laughter.

While Peter and MJ quickly fell into a flurry of conversation, punctuated by Peter's stumbling comments and MJ's mirthful responses, Davian slipped out of the excitement. He watched them from a distance, an amused smile dancing on his face.

Pulling out his phone, he checked on his mom. A soft sigh of relief passed his lips when he saw the new message notification on his screen: her usual morning status update, assuring him that she was doing okay.

He was just about to send back a positive response when Gwen sidled up next to him, her eyes scanning the spacious lab.

"Where's Peter?" she asked, arms folded across her chest.

Davian pointed nonchalantly in the direction of Peter's and MJ's ongoing conversation. At the sight, Gwen's brows pinched in an unmistakable frown, her lips pursing in a thin line of discomfort.

"Is that Mary Jane?" she bit out, her tone edging on the brink of annoyance.

Davian noticed Gwen's mood drop to sub-zero, a frown embedded in her features. He had to hold back a chuckle. Gwen had been pining after Peter for longer than he'd known the pair, and yet she was no closer to the prize than she was six months ago.

It was all so amusing. How Peter remained blissfully unaware of the same was another enigma.

Without breaking his gaze from his phone, Davian shrugged. "Looks like it."

"Hmm," Gwen merely hummed under her breath, her jaw clenching.

"Jealous?" Davian teased, raising a challenging eyebrow.

"I'm not jealous. It's just..." Gwen took a moment, trying to find her words, "She's just... MJ."

"Is that her name? I wouldn't have guessed?" He mused, further fueling her annoyance.

"Gwen, relax," Davian said finally with a sigh, placing a comforting hand on her arm. "She probably means nothing to Peter. Other than a new subject for his pictures."

Gwen shot him a glance, half-warning, half-questioning, "You think?"

"Trust me," Davian assured her, "Peter plays checkers. Ladies like MJ, they play chess."

Gwen scoffed at his words, "You'd think he'd prefer checkers."

Davian shrugged.

"Why is he even with her?" Gwen muttered, her gaze fixated on the pair with lingering distaste.

He quirked an eyebrow, amused by her green-tinged displeasure. "Why not?"

"He's... supposed to be on this trip with us, not getting distracted by the Tourist Attraction," Gwen snapped, carefully eying the redhead's flamboyant demeanor.

"And he is," Davian reasoned. "With a little extra on the side."

"Davian, this isn't funny," she argued, her emerald eyes flashing dangerously.

Davian masked a smirk. "It might not be funny, but it's reality. If you want Peter to notice you, make your move. Don't expect him to make it. You'll be waiting forever."

Gwen crossed her arms defensively, "That's easier said than done!"

Davian placed his phone on the table, leaning into the conversation. "Grow up, Gwen. Life isn't a waiting game. If you want something or someone, go fucking get it."

Avoiding his gaze, Gwen muttered under her breath, "Thanks for the advice, Dr. Phil."

Davian merely laughed and watched as Peter and MJ's conversation blossomed, leaving an obviously disgruntled Gwen to her thoughts. The dynamics of teenage relationships could be more complicated than any life-threatening situation he had ever faced, he concluded.

As time passed, the tour group bustled from one exhibit to another, the guide's drone morphing into indistinct background noise for Davian. His mind was elsewhere, lost in a world of thoughts when an all too familiar presence sauntered into his periphery.

Felicia Hardy.

Midtown High School's unchallenged heartbreaker. Bright eyes, white-platinum blonde hair as bright as the moon, and a deadly smile that could make any man weak in the knees. Felicia was every teenage boy's fantasy and every teenage girl's nightmare. A flirt by nature, she thrived in the art of keeping hearts on a string. A crowd always surrounded the girl, but there was always a single empty seat next to her.

Felicia's presence in the room was like a ticking time bomb, each tick resounding with unadulterated chaos. The perfectly crafted façade of hard-to-get magnetized boys was like metal to a magnet, and when the timing for maximum chaos was just right, her gaze would fall on her favorite prey: Peter Parker.

And sure enough, her gaze was on Peter. Her lips curled into a cheshire grin at the sight of MJ clinging onto Peter's arm. She clicked her heels and made a beeline for Peter, the silken sway of her hips and tantalizing perfume enough to divert any man's attention.

Under his breath, Davian muttered, "Not again," promptly shifting into motion. Gwen, who had spent a good part of the past hour sulking, was now armed and ready for a showdown. The change in her demeanor made him let out a chuckle.

With impeccable timing, Davian intercepted Felicia's path, wrapping his arm around hers even as she protested, "Hey!"

Gwen followed in his footsteps and tried to get Peter's attention. She tactfully diverted his attention to a nearby display while Davian led Felicia away, much to her bemusement.

Felicia tried to shake herself free, but Davian's grip remained firm. "What do you think you're doing, Alrek?" she snapped, ineffectively hiding her annoyance behind a sweet smile.

Davian returned an equally sweet smile, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Well, Hardy, I thought I'd save you from an awkward situation."

"Awkwardness is in the eye of the beholder," she shot back, "And I, for one, enjoy basking in it."

"Really?" he asked with a playful smirk, "Because it seemed to me you were about to make a gamble on a fully claimed territory."

"Are you implying Peter belongs to someone?"

Davian shrugged nonchalantly, "I'm not implying anything. But if the shoe fits."

Felicia rolled her eyes at his antics. Nonetheless, she humored him, "Interesting. Perhaps you're right. But then, since when did you start meddling in my fun?"

"Who said anything about meddling?" Davian replied, a grin tugging at his lips. "I'm just making sure everyone enjoys the field trip. Without any unwelcome distractions."

Felicia scoffed at his words, but a soft laugh managed to escape her lips, "Oh dear, Alrek. Always trying to play the hero. But I'm not the damsel in distress."

"And that's the best thing about you, Hardy," he retorted, matching her playful tone as he finally let go of her arm, "You're the villain."

Felicia and Davian locked eyes, time seemingly stretching between them. In the hustle and bustle of the lab, they were trapped in their own little bubble, each sizing the other up.

Felicia cocked her head to one side, studying Davian with keen interest. Her sharp, sapphire-blue eyes radiated a curious light. Davian was a mystery to her, an exception to the usual boys she mingled with at Midtown High. He was the only one who could stand his ground while engaging her in conversation, not stammering or stumbling over half-baked compliments.

Despite his low profile, there was an air of distinction about Davian. He conducted himself in a way that stood out in an often-dramatic high school atmosphere.

What fascinated Felicia the most, though, was his calm and unruffled demeanor. No matter how chaotic the situation, Davian was always the eye of the storm - cool, composed, and quietly charismatic.

She wondered what made him tick.

Moving closer, Felicia slung her arms around his neck, the corners of her lips curling up into a playful smirk. "What do you think of me, Alrek?" she asked in a velvety whisper.

Looking down at her, Davian couldn't help but return her smirk. "You want the truth?"

Felicia nodded. Her smirk had transmuted into a slight smile. "Always."

Rather than replying immediately, he let the silence stretch for a moment, his gaze never leaving hers. Then, with a playful smirk, he said, "You're a wildfire. Untamed, unstoppable, and disturbingly beautiful. But dangerous... too dangerous to touch."

Caught off guard by his words, Felicia let out a gasp that turned into a slow, low moan. Her sapphire-blue eyes twinkled with mirth. "Ooh, such dirty talk. Usually, boys take me on a date before they sweet-talk me."

Unfazed, Davian raised an eyebrow. His grip on her arms was firm but not stern, holding her in an easy embrace. "I'm not like most boys, Ms. Hardy, and you're going to have to try harder to make me balk."

"Challenge accepted," Felicia promptly responded, leaning closer to him, her body aligning magnetically with his.

Her slender form slid against him with inviting ease, the cool fabric of her dress pressing lightly against the warmth of his body. The feminine curves and contours of her body fit snugly against his lean, muscular frame. Her closeness radiated a daring energy that stoked his senses, a vibrant and electric connection that twined around them.

Their lips were a mere whisper apart, and the air between them was thick with the intensity of the moment. Both of them were caught in a silent battle of wills - a challenge to see who'll crack first under the poised tension of untouched intimacy.

Just when Davian thought he'd won, they were both pulled away from their little bubble by a startled yelp. A jolt of movement broke through the sea of people, drawing everyone's attention to its origin.

Davian immediately recognized that voice.

"Ouch! Something bit me!" Peter's alarmed voice cut through the tense stand-off, his hand rubbing at a nasty red welt forming on the skin.

Gwen and MJ, who had been squaring off earlier, were instantly by his side, with Gwen frantically trying to get a look at his hand while MJ searched for the culprit.

Felicia let out a chuckle at the unfortunate interruption, pressing a swift kiss on Davian's cheek before pulling away. "We haven't finished this, Alrek," she promised, her eyes gleaming with a challenge.

Her red lips turned upward in a satisfied smile.

"We'll talk more later."

With that, Felicia sashayed away, her presence blending into the bustling commotion of concerned and curious students surrounding Peter.

Davian, still caught in their bubble, watched her move away. Her alluring form disappeared amongst the crowd, leaving a trail of male gazes in her wake.

Dangerous, he mused, watching the chaos evolve, Peter's discomfort not fast enough to distract him from the burning sensation on his cheek.

Very dangerous.


This is a passion project that's been cooking up on the side. I liked my original Young Justice fic, but I wanted to change it up and create a universe with Marvel and DC characters. Young Justice will be the universe origin but obviously were starting off in New York City this time.

First two chapters will be slow going setting up initial characters etc. but we'll get into the meat soon enough.

As for the origins of this one its simply a fresh start. Let me know what you all think. Because this one's gonna be a doozy.