Chapter two: Exposure

"Peter, I suggest you find somewhere to sit down."

"What? Oh, yeah," Peter slows in his hurried swinging, mask firmly back on his face like a comforting glove. His web releases as his feet skim and begin to walk on the ground, releasing a breath and sinking to his haunches in the random alley, his shaking nerves slowly stilling. "Man, those guys were crazy Karen, I mean, did you see that!"

He jumps to his feet again, eyes wide with fading adrenaline as he pretends to strike out at the air, "I was all like 'wham' and 'bwaa' and then that british guy was all like," Peter clears his throat and lowers his voice, shifting his posture to imitate the gruff man's as he points at the brick wall, "'You're comin' with me-' uh, 'lad.' Seriously though, what was that guy's problem? And he somehow knows my freaking name! But that doesn't make any sense because I literally just got here this morning…"

Does this mean somebody managed to follow him through the portal the baddy kicked him through? Does Butcher work with the portal baddy? Is the portal baddy here? And what had been that invisible dude's issue anyway? Why did that jerk want to hurt that Hughie guy in the first place? Clearly the little black disk he had flashed had been an object of some importance, though Peter can't even begin to imagine why, the possibilities are endless…

"Peter, I was able to connect to multiple live surveillance cams whilst you were fighting. I am not the only one with access to this footage and I worry we have gathered more attention than intended."

Peter sucks in a breath and nods, shaking his head to pull himself out of his spiraling thoughts, "Right, thanks Karen, I should probably find a rooftop somewhere until the heat dies down…" Bracing his foot on the ground, he shoots out a web to a neighboring building ledge-

!

"Not so fast little bug." Peter's eyes widen as his strongest web suddenly burns like tissue paper under.. are those laser eyes?

!

Remaining heat sizzles in the air like a brush of wind, the laser vision sinking into a familiar face suddenly staring down at him from the sky, the hues of red eerily glowing up the night unlike anything Peter has seen before.

He swallows, hairs sticking up like pin-pricks as he subtly lowers himself into a defensive position, spidey sense going haywire. Yeah, Peter is pretty sure he's not freaking laser proof and he's really, really not trying to test that theory. Especially with someone who seems to be this world's version of Cap, nonetheless! Though, Cap has never seemed so…

Ready to fry you like a bug?

Peter gives a limp, jittery wave, smiling weakly from beneath his mask, "Um, hey there… bro? … what's… up?"

"Hey yourself, bro," The blonde haired man lowers himself to the ground, red boots tapping onto the tarmac as he scans Peter from head to toe with almost indifference. The powerful glow of his eyes lights up the alley a fluorescent red, reflecting off a nearby puddle like neon, "I've been hearing rumors about some vigilante in spandex webbing up my city all day. Is there anything you have to say for yourself?"

Something about this man just screams wrong, Peter's spidey senses have been tingling at a constant state of awareness even though the guy's barely even moved.

It's not fair for Peter to judge anyone given that he can crawl on walls, not that he would ever judge anyone for something like that anyway. He's met his fair share of interestingly enhanced people during his career- but… but this guy's eyes are something else completely. They're… eerie, almost…. frightening.

"Oh, I'm- I'm sorry about that, uh, sir, they um, dissolve in a couple hours though- I didn't mean to… vigilante about your city… honest!"

"Really? Because your heart's beating pretty fast right now kiddo."

Peter blinks, nervously shuffling his feet as his brain screams at him, run run run flee run, "You can hear that? That's kind of really awesome, man. I-"

"Peter, I have taken it upon myself to create an escape plan. Should I pull it up?"

"That won't be necessary, Karen," Peter jolts as the superhero seemingly speaks directly at his suit with an annoyed narrowing of his eyes. He gives a rather political smile upon noticing Peter's no doubt wigging expression, wagging a gloved finger in his direction, almost admonishing, "That's right Peter- and I've heard a lot more than that too. Now. Do I really have to ask if you want to do this the easy way… or the hard way?"

"Am I allowed to choose the 'no way' option?" Peter licks his healing split lip nervously, eyes jumping around the alley as fast as his quickening heart rate but a part of him knows just how futile this is. What's he going to do? He's got nobody but Karen looking out for him here, and it's not exactly like he can outrun somebody who can fly. "O-or maybe we can find a happy medium, you know, where I don't get lasered to death and stuff…? I really am sorry about the trouble, I didn't mean to upset anybody…"

Their tense, silent standoff comes to an anticlimactic height when the red glowing in the alley suddenly cuts off completely, leaving them under the much paler leftover lamplight leaking from the street.

The blonde man smiles at him again, this time seeming much more amused by the situation as he clasps his hands behind his back in a much looser version of a soldier's pose, "So, Peter… have you got a last name, Pete? You probably don't want me to call you Peter Pan all night."

Had he been? Peter takes in the man's sudden, rather extreme shift in demeanor apprehensively, "Umm, I plead the fifth?"

"Cute," But the hero doesn't seem to be very amused by his deflecting anymore, his plastic smile looking about ready to eat Peter up rather than humor him for much longer.

"Did you get it all out of your system now? Because I'm gonna need you to try that again," Peter flinches as the man's eyes glow red sharply again in a blink, thrumming with anxiety at the rather cruel look he receives due to his hesitance, "I don't have all night Peter."

"Um.. It's Parker.. Peter Parker." While normally he'd like to keep his identity as close to his chest as possible, there's not much point in him having a secret identity in the first place anyway if he's lasered to freaking death by some dude in an alternate dimension, "You?"

Man, I hate fricking Mondays.

Peter's foot slides back a bit, preparing for a fight as the man instantly pauses in his approach, his head tilting a bit, as if he genuinely couldn't comprehend what Peter had said. The tense moment doesn't last long as the man abruptly laughs, glancing over Peter with sudden humor sparkling in his blue eyes, "Well aren't you just the most adorable little thing? Tell me, webs, how old are you anyway? 14?"

Peter narrows his eyes, feeling his pulse skip in his throat, unsure of why he was asking in such a light hearted tone in the first place because the building tension is obvious between them, "Um, not to be rude or anything, because you have laser eyes and everything, but why do you care?"

That get's him a raised eyebrow, as if Peter has just been obtusely stumbling his way through this entire interaction. Honestly it kind of feels like that's exactly what he's been doing the entire day, "You were actually serious back there? You really don't know who I am?"

"I-I mean, I see your posters around and stuff…" This is really not an ideal situation. This Earth could have a whole 'nother solar system and Peter wouldn't know about it! Then again if he says the wrong thing maybe he'll get brushed off faster?

Man, I never thought I would be saying this but I would actually prefer Aunt May's paranoid scolding over this, any day.

"Hm. Well, I'll tell you what, Peter Parker, I like this whole beaten but quippy to the end shtick you got going on here, seriously, this is some great stuff. And with that baby face? Shit. Just pulls right on the heart strings. Madelyn might actually cream her fucking pants if she were to get her hands on you. I mean, just thinking of the potential launch PR alone…"

Peter makes an uncomfortable face, shifting uneasily as the man continues to languidly talk, smiling almost to himself. Man, a lot of the people here sure are vulgar-and, let's face it, crazily unstable, like, wow.

"... years out of you. Huh. Well. I guess all there's left to do is…. Is see whether you're actually useful or not."

!

"What?" Peter jolts at the seemingly precision focus that's suddenly settled on him, breath catching as the man narrows his eyes with renewed contempt, two drops of red searing to the surface like liquid molten edging eruption. For one, brutalizing second, Peter sees himself being cut down in two, feels the heat slicing through his skin like nothing.

!

The man smiles and it's all glowing red teeth, "Run."

Shot off like a bolt Peter springs up onto the wall, the bricks cracking under the frantic force, fully caving under him as Peter immediately leaps again to the adjacent as two beams of heat sear through the wall a second later. A thin, niggling ring zings through his ears, the smell of ionizing air and the warm breeze of heat on the back of his neck springing him up onto the lip of the building in one large leap with his heart in his mouth.

!

Peter shoots out his arm, web springing as the gust of the sound barrier breaking behind him sends his nerves screaming. He yanks himself forward with unforeseen speed, sweat running a line down his neck like a water spill as looks over his shoulder, frightened.

The man is flying high above the edge of the building, looking all the vengeful god, a red dwarf star against the dark skyline, "Very good Peter."

Adrenaline spikes him like a thousand instant bee stings as he suddenly drops, heat singing the tips of his hair as he slips down the wall of the building, the beam momentarily piercing straight where he had been before vanishing again.

Peter shoots the right, ricocheting down the alley to the neighboring street. Sky bad. Open bad. Hide hide run flee-

!

"-quick, too." A blue forearm is suddenly held in front of his momentum, sending him hurtling into a different direction with a swat.

Peter slams into a parked van sitting on the curb across the street, splitting through both walls of metal before solidly caving into the building wall behind it, leaving a Parker sized crater indenting the crumbling brick laying.

Keening metal groans as the dust begins to settle. The cavity of the van is bust open through both sides, the warped metal surrounding the wide puncture sites like talons. The entire thing teeters before landing back onto its four wheels, alarms blaring starkly in the sudden quiet, the lights flashing on and off miraculously.

"And durable? Peter, I think this just might work."

Peter coughs. Concrete, brick and metal guard rail bits sliding from his person as he shifts. He inhales, groaning as his ribs spike with pain. Placing his hand onto the wall to brace himself to stand, he curls his other arm around his smarting gut as he squints through the clearing dust.

"I don't know if this is working for me," Peter winces again, spotting a tantalizing exit strategy on the ground not too far away. Looking up at the sky quickly and closing his eyes in a quick prayer, Peter heaves in another painful breath, reorienting himself as the blue suited man is slowly unveiled from behind the wall of clearing dust. Peter warily raises his fists much to the sudden amused laughter of the clearly unhinged hero, "I don't even know you pal, why are you doing this?"

!

"Why?"

The man scoffs a disbelieving laugh, glancing over to the side with a clenched jaw as people start to stick their heads out of their windows and wander out of their homes to investigate the noise.

Peter scrambles back a step as the man suddenly snaps his glare back in his direction, approaching the rubble until only Peter can see the sudden beams lighting up his eyes vicious ruby, voice just as coarse and threating, "Because I'm the fucking Homelander, Peter. I can do whatever the fuck I want."

"That's kind of messed up man," And a bit too familiar for my liking… Peter's heart gulps as Homelander's snapped gaze immediately follows the track of his lowered wrist, a fwip of web speeding across the street with ample speed. "Nobody has that right, not you, and not me." Not anymore.

Splat. With a furious pull the manhole cover snaps from its weak bolts, soaring towards them and flying directly into the Homelander's back. Taking advantage of the man's surprised stumbling forward, Peter shoots another web, flying himself directly towards the now open manhole in the street, a keen sense of desperation lapping at his heels.

Forget everything he thought about this Homelander guy, he's nothing like Cap at all.

"That was clever Peter, I'll have to say," Homelander's voice suddenly echoes through the sewer chambers from behind him like a scraping bullet, an almost velvety menace underlining the cheerful tone. There's a distant splash, the sound of two red boots landing into the sewer, "Fuck. This place smells like shit."

Already a few tunnels away Peter wordlessly shoots out another web, the stench of wet mulch and feces thankfully being blinded by his adrenaline, turning another sharp corner. Wordlessly blue lines begin to fall down inside the cracked screen of his mask, the screen glitching and sparking from Homelander's hit but still functioning enough for Peter to quickly recognize the blueprints sliding in front of his eyes, laying out exactly where he is in the sewer-

!

Peter smashes face first into thick, metal bars. He ricochets back, breath momentarily knocked out of him as he clutches his head, stumbling back a few steps. Shaken like a gong Peter groans, squinting his eyes shut as the piercingly loud ringing in his ears mellows to a just bearably low hum…

"There you are."

Ice cold, Peter slowly turns around, lowering his hands from his smarting face to hold them up shakily. Aunt May… Tony… I'm sorry… "Ha.. ha, you caught me…"

"Is Karen Parker your mom?" Homelander asks rather blankly after a moment of silence, stopping a few feet away from the dead end Peter's flung himself into. He watches Peter's face pinching with fear and confusion, almost glaring down his nose at him, "Is mommy putting you up to this? Trying to get you famous so she can suckle off your success? Hm? Or is it- don't tell me- that you actually give a shit about people? Because that's cute. It's really fucking cute."

"Now take off the fucking mask." Homelander raises his eyebrows when Peter doesn't move, as if he had asked him to pass the salt and Peter tipped it over to spill on the table instead. Homelander gives a little exasperated sigh before shooting his hand out and latching onto the front of Peter's suit, yanking him closer and activating his laser vision with a mocking smile, "Naw, why so quiet suddenly Peter? Cat got your tongue?"

Peter winces as his mask is forcibly ripped off, blinking up widely as his hands fly up to grip the hand clutching at the front of his suit, frantic, "L-listen-"

Homelander yanks him closer with an unforgiving grip, pressing his face close enough to skim their noses and for a moment all Peter can see is red, "No, you listen here, you fucking flea. You say one more goddamn word and I'll rip your fucking throat out."

An out of body feeling momentarily hits Peter harder than any fist could, wide phantom fingers wrapping around his throat and squeezing. The chainsaw buzz of Titan's atmosphere grating on his senses, primal fear as a heavy, gold gauntlet raises in the air, endless despair-!

"Insect!" A titan bellows in his ear.

Homelander stills suddenly, pulling his head back from their strange embrace before smiling stiffly, seemingly struck with realization as his eyes cool to blue.

He sends the stock still, hyperventilating Peter to the mucky ground with a hard shove, shaking his head with a chuckle as he runs his now free hand through his hair, "You know what? I'm going to let you off the hook, just this once, because I did come at you first. Fair is fair."

Homelander creases his eyes almost teasingly when Peter only continues to give him a bug-eyed stare from the ground, chest heaving.

Carelessly waving out the hand holding his mask as if to say 'what can you do?,' Homelander gives Peter a playful, knowing smirk, "Welp, the past is called 'the past' for a reason, right? Water under the bridge. Besides- Would you look at the time? It seems it's gotten to be waay past a certain spider's bedtime, mister. So.. I guess I'll see you later, then. Yeah."

"I'll see you soon, Peter Parker." Homelander's footsteps thud loudly in the cavity of the sewer drain as he turns around and walks back the way they had come. The statement snap of his mask crushing to pieces under Homelander's fist echoes in Peter's ears with dreadful finality. "Sleep tight kiddo. Oh, and don't let the bugs bite, of course. Tomorrow's a brand new day."