PART 1 - Chapter 22 - The Dark Matters of Faith - Evangel

Men study. Spiders hunt. Birds stalk.

SURPRISE, EARLY (short) CHAPTER!

Don't think I can keep it like this, weekly updates, but I was feeling like posting this one early, so, Enjoy!

WORD OF WARNING: This author has STILL NOT played the new PS5 Spider-Man 2 game nor watched any "let's play", trying to keep the surprises still surprising, and probably that could be the same for many other readers, so, be considerate and avoid spoilers in the reviews, please!

Thank you!

'Hello there, it's been a while, hasn't it?'

Peter admired the new chemistry setup he had just finished installing in his laboratory, barely any free space left in his workspace.

And, fortunately, the time it took him to set things up had been enough for the first of the new equipment to finish the task of analyzing the samples Peter had taken from the blade, Father Joe's 'snack' would be next.

'Now it all makes sense', Peter reflected, checking the list of components detailed on a small screen. 'Whatever had been used to coat that switchblade had considerable traces of pyrethrin and some other oily compound that acted as an adjuvant. Just my luck, finding assassins who carry blades laced with poison that could be used as a homemade organic insecticide. A darn good one, in fact, no wonder my healing factor got screwed up.'

One of life's ironies Peter Parker had discovered, along with gaining powers based on spiders, he had also acquired some of their weaknesses, like a mild allergy reaction to some insecticides and pesticides, almost all of them from natural sources.

'That day when Aunt May brought Chrysanthemums to decorate her living room had been especially educational', Peter winced at the memory. 'Thank goodness I have no problems with caffeine, or I would have gotten rid of my powers a long time ago.'

'No coffee or chocolate in my life? Hell. No!'

Peter popped the cap off of a black marker and started scribbling on the nearest wall, not worried about cleaning it all afterwards since it had been coated with a variation of his latest creation and making it virtually unstainable.

"So", Peter spoke up, writing down a list of compounds that he could discern and deduce out of the list in the chemical analyser's screen. "Naturally derived substances, nothing that would need artificial manipulation. Eco-friendly assassins or some traditional practice? I digress."

A few molecular formulas were added next to the names, arrows pointing to potential sources, and yet nothing was clicking on the scientist's mind.

'Too general to pinpoint an origin. I need more.' There were quite a number of natural sources of pyrethrin, he knew, and a good number of lipids that could be used to catalyze the insecticide.

Next, another set of arrows were drawn, pointing into another column, where the scientist started listing several substances that he had mentally filed for an occasion such as this. 'Counteragents for most of these toxins, I'll have to test the remainder to create a complete antidote in the future, but this will be enough to cook up something more personalized.'

'Maybe whatever is in the sandwich will shine some light?', he wondered, as he pulled a tray containing a variety of samples he had extracted from the bread, tuna paste, and even the wrapping, previously set aside for further analysis.

'This will take some time, though', he pondered, as the machine came to life again. 'Better clock out from the Chrysalis, and focus on Gotham for the time being.'

—-

"He'll be dead soon."

The voice called James Gordon out of his reverie, the large form of the chain smoking Detective Bullock coming out of the shadows of the Gotham Precinct's rooftop access.

"Siggy", the large man pointed a thumb towards the illustrious device and to the affectionate nickname given to it by the Corp. "The Bat Signal. You've been running it hot for almost a week now." Harvey gave the large device a friendly tap, its warmth helping to push away the creeping cold. "You're going to blow his bulb, this way."

"Leave it on, Harvey", Gordon warned, turning his attention back to the sky, the infamous emblem shining on the heavy clouds that hung low in the evening.

"I hate to say it, Commissioner, but the Bat ain't coming. Leaving the light on for him-"

"It's not just for him, Detective Lieutenant", Gordon turned to the side, giving his second in command a considerate look. "It's for the scum who think Gotham's a damn playground now."

Bullock took a drag off his cigarette, nodding in understanding.

"It's for the other guys, too. The one's on our side, the ones who are hurting, the ones who really know the man who's missing right now."

Gordon grabbed hold of the brick on the rooftop edge wall. "Hell, it's for the whole city, Bullock." Smoke billowed out of his mouth, the cold of the night starting to chill the air, the frost coming early in the season.

Since Batman's disappearance, the underbelly of Gotham City had started to show its face. As Red Robin had informed them, the major players were quiet. What they didn't expect, however, was the new crime wave that had come.

The son of a City Councilor had been kidnapped, then rescued by Batgirl.

A hitman tried to kill the cheating husband of a C-List actor, being caught in the nick of time by The Signal.

The AnarKings decided to show they were still alive years after the whole debacle with Cobblepot and Dent, causing mayhem and deaths until being caught by Black Bat, the Red Hood and the new guy.

A trio of con artists pulled a scam over a big investor and almost disappeared with a small fortune, only to be delivered in front of the Police Department all tied up and full of scratches (while the money was still missing).

Third rate gangbangers were making quick money over counterfeit tech they had been smuggling right under the Police's radar, if it hadn't been for the huge list of names and addresses Oracle had provided them hours before.

Not to mention that all sorts of new synthetic drugs had suddenly flooded the streets, the meekest dealers and the exploiters taking their chances ever since the big families and cartels started to rear back and arm themselves.

In conclusion, with Batman's absence, there was a war on the horizon, and one of these morons could be the one to light up the powder keg.

"So, like I said, the light stays on."

—-

"I need to say one thing, and this comes from the bottom of my heart.", Spider-Man took a deep breath.

"Look man, we-"

"No, no, no, you two," Spider-Man pointed a finger at the men. "You two don't say anything, because… you suck. Plain and simple. In fact, you are the suckiest criminals in this city tonight, and that is saying something."

The two captured men kept swaying, hanging from a very long web string, all webbed up in a single cocoon, while dangling barely a couple inches from the pavement.

Their captor, fuming, walked in circles around them. "Tonight, I've been patrolling for less than two hours and do you know what I have dealt with, so far? I stopped muggings. I caught people trying to break into stores. I stopped drug deals and arsons. I even punched out a gun toting robber wearing clown makeup." The hero threw back his head, in frustration. "What is wrong with this city, honestly!?"

"And then, and then you guys showed up."

"We're sorry, ok, man?"

Arms crossed, Spider-Man bent forward, his face just inches away from the captured criminals. "You two… stole… a 'Library-on wheels'." The hero pointed to the vehicle. "It's not a new car, not a fast vehicle by any measure and definitely not discreet. Unless sold as scrap, it's only worth is to bring all different cultures and knowledge to the masses. And you guys-"

"-They work for the White Shark."

Spider-Man quickly turned around, not needing to pinpoint the origin of the voice, as the vigilante stood in front of him, shrouded in cape and hood, barely twenty feet away.

'He's very good at being stealthy… and even shorter than I had imagined.'

It was easy, even for Peter, to recognize the hero in front of him, even if it was the first time they met each other. "You're Robin, right?", he asked, the yellow cape and sword handle poking from his back being the most obvious hints of the kid's identity.

Ignoring the older vigilante, the younger hero/sidekick approached the captured men. "Rosswell, Robert, and Chandler, Albert", Robin's words made both criminals flinch. "Former affiliates of the 'Sprang Bridge Soldiers' and now under Warren White's 'protection'."

'Kid is way into this kind of thing', Spider-Man mused, as Robin pointed at him, while still staring at them.

"Even this amateur realized that this job was not for the money." Spider-Man's mask's eye rose, indignantly. "Whatever your boss is planning to pull, I want to know. So… start talking", the small vigilante ordered, his gloved hand moving towards the handle of his weapon, only to feel the sudden shift in weight.

"Okay, first of all, rude", Spider-Man complained, as he had moved forward and kept Robin's weapon in place with a single press of his finger. "So, what's the big deal, Short'n'Stabby?"

Robin tried drawing the blade again, with no success. "Take your finger off my sword or you will lose it."

"Take a chill pill, Pipsqueak, we're not dealing with hard-boiled mafiosos, they're just a couple of losers-" "Hey!" "-who ain't going nowhere."

"As is this conversation", his voice was low and serious. "I am interrogating these scumbags."

"That's what I was doing."

"You were mocking them and blabbering nonstop."

"I'm a mocker, that's kinda my thing, I run my mouth and I mock."

"And I am a professional." 'A professional headcase, more like it', Peter kept the barb to himself. "You might have powers and some skill, but you are too naive on how to do things in this city."

Finger still on the sword, Spider-Man rubbed the bridge of his nose with the other hand.

"This must be Karma, all these years quipping bad guys are coming back to haunt me…", the older hero mumbled. "Kid, I've been doing this much longer than you've been… you're what, ten, right?", he guessed, watching the small vigilante. "Who gives a sword to a ten years old kid?"

"My age is none of your business, and I'm not a kid."

"Oh… gotcha", Spider-Man nodded, in understanding. "Don't worry, Puck, there is still time for a growth spurt."

"Continue talking and I'll be ending your career tonight."

"Big words from a hero who can't reach the high shelves yet", Spider-Man replied, a fond smile almost starting to spread on his face. He was starting to like the preteen, he reminded him of the playful banters he used to have with Johnny, back in New York.

The younger hero went quiet for a few seconds, then, surprisingly, the gloved hand came off from the sword.

Peter could not relish the accomplishment, however, as Robin suddenly spoke up. "... at least I am a hero."

'Huh? Where did that come from?', Spider-Man thought, then asked out loud, "Pardon?"

Caught by surprise, the older hero's finger slipped off the sword. The caped sidekick made no motion to take advantage of that, as he turned back to the newer vigilante in town, completely focused and serious.

"Oracle told you about our current situation", he spoke in a grave tone, much more like an adult than before. "She asked you for your help, and you accepted that."

'Oh', Peter suddenly realized what was happening. "Look-"

"And when the time came, you did not come.", the angry preteen spoke over him. "Because you broke your promise, Nightwing had to deal with a larger area than he had to."

He took a step forward "Because of your absence, he had pushed himself so far that he got tired and careless."

Another step, and he was at arms-length from Spider-Man. "Because he could not count on your support, he was almost killed that night."

"I almost lost a brother, and this city, a hero. Because you had a personal matter to deal with. You make jokes and show off your abilities, but you don't respect the Mission."

Robin's scowl was both furious and disappointed. "I have no idea what happened to you that night, and frankly I have no interest in knowing. What I do know is, if you truly want to wear this mask and help around in our city, to be worthy of being called a 'hero', you have to be ready to accept the responsibility."

Silence.

As Spider-Man remained quiet, Robin turned his back on him.

The younger hero had said his piece, and knew that that man was not-

*snorts*

Robin stopped on his tracks.

"Responsibility, heh. Talk about irony…"

"You!", Peter had to admit, the kid was fast, especially as he had pulled those bat-projectiles out of somewhere, already in a battle ready stance.

The older hero promptly raised his hands, in a pacifying manner. "I'm not mocking your brother. Seriously, my bad, I messed up with you guys, and I'm sorry for that. It's just that, you reminded me of… something I was told, long ago", Spider-Man explained in a calm tone, never showing any intention of further aggravating the situation with the infuriated preteen. "I don't... like - look, putting this costume and leaping into danger isn't much of a life choice - I know, big shock. But I've been doing since I was fifteen, since the day I lost someone to crime when all I had to do was being a responsible person."

"I am responsible for what I do with my great powers, and though I can't win every battle nor make every right choice, I am more than just my failures. I'm every person I helped when I could, to make up for the ones I couldn't."

Robin's mask barely hid the widening of his eyes.

"Robin, you and the others can blame me for what happened to Nightwing, and that's fair, trust me, no one can ever blame me over something more than I can. A friend of mine was in danger and I don't regret going out that night to help him, it was my choice and I'll stand by my decision, but I could also have done more for you guys." Spider-Man paused to rub the back of his head.

"To tell you the truth, I'm just not used to working with others, so I didn't think my absence would matter that much."

Robin lost a bit of his scowl and appeared more tranquil, or at least less displeased. "... Nightwing and the others, they don't blame you. They should. But they don't. And… I guess I shouldn't, either." Hesitation. "Batman has a network of operatives, so we… too, are not in the habit of asking for… help… from others."

'Well, would you look at that?', Peter wondered about their situation. 'I've been wrong all along, haven't I?'

'Hearing about these Bats and Birds, I kept thinking they were this prominent shadow over Gotham, the monsters that fight back the monsters.'

'When they asked for my help, frankly, I thought I'd be slowing them down.'

'But I should have learned from Black Bat and Red Hood, after all. All this time, they are not these supreme boogeymen. Yes, they are heroes, they are professionals, they have their amazing toys and the skill, and they always save the day, no matter what.'

'But that doesn't mean they're not also humans in the end.'

The hero looked up, the beam of light from the Bat-Signal shining across the ever cloudy sky.

'They're family, and, right now, they are terrified over losing their Father figure.'

A small alert popped on his mask's HUD, signaling the completion of the analyzer's cycle, which he promptly discarded.

"How about this, Munchkin, you seem to be already on a case of your own." Spider-Man waved at the wrapped up duo. "I'll continue on patrol for the rest of the night, so you can handle these bozos with me out of your way. Cool?"

Then, with a lower tone of voice, he added, "Just, just promise me not to get all knife-crazy on them? Well, sword-crazy?"

The small hero gave him a side glare, the intimidation factor lessened over the preteen's height, in Peter's opinion, then a nod.

Feeling that that would be the most he could get out of the preteen, Spider-Man gave him a thumbs up, in agreement.

"Okay, then! Could you ask Oracle to patch me any alerts while I'm swinging about? Great!", the hero did not wait for a reply, as he shot a webstring to the top of the nearest building. "Have fun, kids! And don't stay up too late, Mr. Angry Elf, lack of sleep can stunt a child's growth."

"Imbecile", Robin snarled in return.

"Value size ninja", Spider-Man replied with a two fingers salute, as he jumped into the air, swinging away from the scene.

Robin stared at the disappearing red, white and blue form of the vigilante, then he moved towards the criminals.

"Now", the young hero declared, pulling a bird themed brass knuckle out of one of his utility belt's pouches. "Where were we?"

—-

The rising sun marked the end of another night, as an exhausted Peter Parker, barely back inside his lab, pulled his mask out and stared at the bright monitor screen, as the analyser had just finished its job.

'Amidst tons of other substances, match found for a rare enzyme that fits the bill', he began typing, searching through several databases, a task made far easier than normal by privilege of his Chrysalis employment and clearance level. 'Hallucinogenic properties, known to cause altered mind state and capable of leaving subjects open to subconscious suggestions. Bingo!'

A press on the keyboard and a holoprojection of the molecular structure of the compound appeared right next to him.

'Plant-based and incredibly rare, no artificial version made in laboratories, this will make finding its origins straightforward', Peter concluded, in a much improved mood. 'Even luckier, a local Gotham scientist has studied this sort of plant before!', Peter noted, pulling the academic papers from the digital database.

Having digital copies would not be enough, though, he knew that. He would have to go and ask the scientist himself.

'Finally some good news! Now, I'll just have to find this Dr. Pamela Isley and ask her help to save a lot of people!'

To be Continued!

Author's Notes:

Well! I can't see this ending badly, can you? ;)

Also, partial answer to Alastor's review, Jackson is not a Doctor, and he's also, as he is fond of explaining, really freaking smart, and really good at lying.

Next chapter, Peter will annoy more people he should have left very well alone!