A/N : This is the start of a new arc. I'm not good at naming the chapters. But as you've noticed since the beginning of the story, it's not a day to day look into Spidey's life in Gotham. It's more a conjunction of different arcs that are part of the whole, if that makes sense. I might go back and at least group them together in parts. But this is part one of this arc.
"I used to go by the name Peter Parker. In my other life. I used to live paycheck by paycheck. Sometimes I didn't have a place to live. My credit—what credit?—or word didn't mean much. I was unreliable. Always late. Being Spider-Man was something I saw as my number one priority. It went above any responsibilities I had. Love life. Work-life. Family life. Friendships. Anything and everything. But I made it work. I had a wonderful wife and also a beautiful aunt who raised me. The unconditional love and support I received from them allowed me to continue to live up to the words my uncle imparted. If you knew Peter Parker—if you knew that Spider-Man—you knew the phrase 'With great power…' and you should be able to finish that sentence in your sleep.
"Those words identified me. I should be living up to those words. No matter that I died. No matter that I'm in a fictional world that may or may not be a part of my dreamscape while I lay in a hospital bed in a coma. I don't truly believe that. But it's a doubt in the back of my head that keeps me from fully living the way I did as Peter Parker while in Gotham. Here I'm just Peter. I'm also Spider-Man. That doesn't make Gotham my responsibility. It's Batman's. And all the other bats and affiliates. I'm just passing through, not taking anything too seriously.
"Until recently. When I realized I should be doing more that I could do more. Not that I quantify it as a lightbulb moment. It was more of a heart-wrenching, pulling the rug from under you, pushing through all the feels, tampering the rage kind of moment. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. How could one moment encompass so much? I guess you had to be there. I'll try to paint you a picture. Though you should know, I was always better at taking them.
"My spider sense went off as I walked through the narrows after school. I couldn't figure it out. Nothing was happening around me. There wasn't a bad guy with a gun. No one was screaming. But something sinister was happening. I could feel it deep inside. Beyond my gut. Down to the marrow in my bones.
"I played a game of hot and cold with my senses. It didn't take long before I found the correct building. I found a dark corner where I ditched my clothes and messenger bag. I climbed up the wall once I was in my spidey suit. I was a sight to see for those who did see me. For the most part, the onlookers ignored my presence.
"When I found the right floor, I was allowed entry through a balcony. There wasn't a lot of exchange of words beyond a polite 'Do you mind?' and 'Thank you.' from yours truly as I entered and exited the apartment, respectively. My aunt and uncle raised me to be a gentleman.
"A neighbor who'd walked out of an apartment scurried back inside at the sight of me in the hallway. A single hand poked its way out of the door to point to a door at the end of the hall. It coincidentally was in the same direction that made my spider-sense scream at me in agony.
"I won't—can't—describe what I saw when I walked into the bedroom. But I had to force the rage to subside. I held myself back from killing the pathetic excuse that passed itself off as human. I quickly knocked him out with an object I threw at his head. I turned off the recording devices. To not scare the small child that had no reason to trust adults, I pulled off my mask. The big white eyes on the face were intimidating. It was counterintuitive to what I was trying to present.
"The child studied my eyes and my countenance. It was the only way for him to realize that I was not dangerous. I covered him with a blanket which I tore up to fit his frame. I explained why I was there and that I would call for help. I was allowed to console the child to the best of my ability while I swallowed back a knot of sobs and the vile that was threatening to come up.
"I called the Red Hood to ask for a direct line to the Commissioner. He could hear it in my voice that I was not going to take no for an answer. Not only that, but I wasn't in the mood to explain the situation. Even the Commissioner understood that when I spoke to him. And I did something I never thought I would do. I used the comm link that had direct access to Oracle. It was her test. And mine. Of trust. The child and others like the one in my arms came first. From the setup, I realized that it was not a one-time offense. The fact that neighbors were aware of what was taking place a few feet from their homes also showed it was a prolonged occurrence. I will give them the benefit of the doubt. They were probably too scared to do anything about it. That had to stop now.
"I decided to prove to everyone in the Narrows who Spider-Man was. I would make it my personal mission to protect this neighborhood. The Narrows was now my responsibility. I would use my power to make it happen. Whatever twist of fate brought me to Gotham and the Narrows, I was grateful for it. I had saved a child from an awful world and found a linchpin to enter it to destroy it.
"My name used to be Peter Parker. It is now Richard Peter to the people who know me as a civilian, but my friends and acquaintances know me simply as Peter. I am Spider-Man to my allies and enemies when I'm living up to the words of my late uncle. 'With great power comes great responsibility.' Those words are engraved in my heart. They are my motivation. But mostly an anchor. One that keeps me steady. At other times they hold me back. But they never stop me from doing what's right."
Spider-Man perched himself at the top of Sprang Bridge. He spoke to the void. He knew it was listening. It was always listening. He preferred talking to Bruce. Something about speaking to an inanimate gargoyle that had ears made it more believable that whoever he was talking to could actually hear him. It probably had to do with the scientist in him. It was hard to dismiss tangible proof. The type of proof he was in the process of finding. On cue, a moving truck made its way across the bridge.
Spider-Man used his webs to lower himself down. As soon as the truck was beneath him, he let go of his web line and crouched down on the top of the trailer.
I really hope I picked the right truck. Because if I didn't, taking pictures of random people would be awkward if all they were doing was moving furniture.
When the truck began to slow down, Spidey shot out a web line and followed in the air. He perched himself on the side of a building in the shadows. He had a great vantage point. The truck stopped in front of a dry cleaner. The passenger got out and walked to a storefront to unlock the door. The driver stayed seated in the vehicle. He kept the engine running. After leaving the doors open, the passenger—who Spidey decided to dub Sequin due to the bronze sleeveless sequin top they wore—went to open the back of the truck.
Please, don't be furniture in the truck. Please, don't be furniture in the truck. What am I saying?! Please, be furniture in the truck! Please, be furniture in the truck! I know I'm here to stop them from trafficking people, but if it could just stop happening altogether that would be great.
Spider-Man saw someone in a skin-tight spider-themed suit climb out from the back of the truck. Not the way people normally moved. No, this guy was stealing his gimmick. He crawled up the doors and flipped onto the roof. He crouched there and looked around.
Huh.
The fake gave a thumbs up to the other guy who climbed into the truck. Spider-Man pulled out his camera and took pictures. He zoomed in on the spider fake to get a better look. This guy had a gimmick that needed the suit to give him his abilities. He wasn't an enhanced individual with actual spider abilities.
Spider-Man snapped his fingers. Eric. He shook his head in annoyance. The fake doesn't move anything like me. World's Greatest Detective, and he couldn't deduce that tidbit. Hmph.
Sequin pushed the ramp latch down and then, using the handles, pulled the ramp out. Once it was secure, spider-fake knocked on the top of the truck. Sequin moved to the entrance of the building once more and pulled out a gun from the back of their black leather pants right as a police cruiser pulled up in front of the building. Spider-Man recognized the cop. It was Detective Bullock.
"What the hell are you wearing, Dennis? You look like a crystal ball," Bullock said with a sneer.
A few figures emerged from the back of the truck. Spidey took pictures of all of them. Did I stumble onto a mob boss meeting? Maroni, Mila, Casamento, Falcone, and others whose names Spidey didn't know.
"I was on a date with my fiancé when I got pulled into this. Not my fault Shaw came down with something," Sequin, who Spidey realized was actually named Dennis, replied.
"Get back to your date, Yvonne," Maroni told Dennis. "Bullock can take over."
Too many names. Yvonne 'Sequin' Dennis. It has a nice ring to it, though. I wonder if Sequin is also a cop. Why else would Bullock use their last name?
"Take over what? I don't even know why you called me in for this," Bullock said with a sneer.
Sequin didn't even bat an eye. Merely put their gun away and walked off. Seemingly, in a random direction.
"Because you have a stake in this too. Let's go inside," Maroni said. He turned around to look at the spider fake. "You know what to do if that wall-crawler shows up."
"Got it, boss!"
The spider fake is here to take me on? This situation is too surreal.
The party moved into the building. Spidey looked around and found an entry point. He had to listen in on this meeting. But as he backed away from the ledge further into the shadows, the hair at the back of his neck stood on end. He turned quickly to face whoever was there. His middle fingers hovered over his web shooters.
"It's you," said a female voice. Though Spidey couldn't see them, he recognized the voice. It was Cheshire.
"Yup, it's me, alright," Spidey said and held back the 'you got me' because he didn't think Cheshire was actually trying to get him.
"You tricked me once. Now, I know you're not Eric. Who are you? And what are you doing here?"
"Firstly, I didn't trick you. You assumed. Wrong, I may add. Secondly, revealing my identity to anyone who asks defeats the purpose of wearing this." Spidey pointed at the mask. "And thirdly, I thought the truck had victims of child trafficking. I was planning to get them to safety. But I stumbled onto something else entirely."
His spider sense stopped buzzing. Apparently, something he said had garnered him into Cheshire's good graces.
"The meeting is about you. Maroni is upset you're disrupting things in his territory," Cheshire said and cocked her head to the side.
"I need to get in there. So, we can fight, and I'll tie you up, or you can let me pass, and we'll each go our separate ways."
"I have a third option. Why don't we both sneak in and listen in."
"Why? What's your stake in this?"
"I'm Mila Peter's bodyguard. She's inside. I'm out here. I can't protect her from the outside, can I?"
"What else?"
"I have a daughter. If what you say is true about the child trafficking happening in this territory and Mila is involved, I'll help you take her down. I'll help you take them all down."
"I can't argue with that."
