*refer to Chapter 22 for context if needed.

Peter had taken the last bite of his Belgian waffles when he felt it. His spider-sense was tingling. He looked around the diner, but nobody was acting suspicious. He looked out of the window, but everything seemed normal. Even the homeless guy across the street talking to himself wasn't threatening anyone. Everyone gave him a wide berth, assuring his safety from the public. No one was even speeding. Ok. That one guy was, but he was blaring his radio, too, and singing along as if he were in the shower. He wasn't running away from anything. He was simply enjoying the ride.

So, if people weren't the danger, what was? Gas leak? Peter sniffed the air. The hair on his arm and the back of his neck stood up. A chill ran down his spine.

"Hey," Hailey said and reached out to take his hand in hers. She squeezed it. "Are you ok? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Peter's eyes widened. "Are there any ghosts here? In Gotham, I mean?"

His fingers began to tremble. Hailey squeezed his hand again.

"Well, I've never seen any, if that makes you feel better."

Then Peter heard the people around him breathing a little deeper. He looked around and noticed that everyone looked spooked. They looked every which way for a threat.

"What the hell is happening?"

"Fear," Hailey said through an intake of breath. He turned to look at her. He saw that her eyes were wide. Her lips were trembling. "It's the Scarecrow."

Peter saw her pull what looked like an EpiPen out of her purse. He noticed the WE label on it that read fear antitoxin. She stabbed it into her thigh. Then she handed Peter another one. He quickly injected it into himself.

"That should take the edge off. We need to keep everyone calm until help arrives."

Suddenly, everyone's phone began to chime. One person after another received a message. And he heard the same word repeat itself in hushed tones. Joker.

"He's loose again? So quick?"

"It's been two years since his last escape," Hailey said.

"Two? What?" Peter said with a frown. Not possible.Then he remembered the haze of magic he'd seen when he fell. Was I flung back into the past? "What's the date?"

Hailey looked at him askance, but she showed him the calendar on her phone. Peter rubbed his face in aggravation. Of course. Parker luck strikes again. But why wasn't my memory erased? He felt his hand shake a little. He squeezed his hands into fists. He had to stop the Joker.

"I have to go."

Hailey reached out for his hand. He looked at her with a raised brow before he felt a piece of metal pressed into his hand. It was a key.

"You're gonna need your suit."

"Thank you."

Peter didn't make it back to the veterinary clinic. He was only a block away when his spider-sense made him reel back. The sensation was so intense it almost hurt. Then, without having any time to question what he was feeling or why, his body started moving on its own. He ran so fast that if anyone had seen him, they would think they'd just imagined him.

Peter almost stopped short at the sound of Joker's laughter. A dull punching sound barely reached his ears. He pushed himself to keep going at the sound of a baby's cry that tore through the laughter. He stumbled when he heard a metallic ringing. Anyone else wouldn't have heard it. That meant he was close. The sinister laugh ended suddenly.

Peter slowed to a jog when his spider-sense reverberated when he turned a corner. He watched in awe at the scene unfolding before him. He saw from a different perspective how the truck's chassis separated from the frame. It made a sound that triggered the need to hide somewhere safe. The resonance was so chaotic and off-putting. The cries of the baby quieted down. For a handful of seconds, a silence followed that ended with murmurs. The thwip of a webline was clear. Spider-Man had left the scene.

Peter could see people peeking through windows and cracks in doorways. A few ventured out into the open as Peter ran towards the truck. He felt stupid. The Joker was a danger to society, but Peter couldn't let him die. He could still remember how he felt at the thought that he'd killed him. And he couldn't allow the people to think Batman let him live. That would only make the citizens of Gotham distrust him. Peter knew what that felt like. He couldn't do that to another hero.

Peter made his way into the back of the truck and froze. It smelled like paint inside. The woman, the one he'd believed mutilated, was staring at him with fear-stricken eyes. She was alive. How had he not known? He'd thought she was dead. That meant he'd been hallucinating. He put his arms out to show the woman he wasn't a danger to her.

"I'm here to help," he said softly. The woman whimpered. What was she seeing?

The Joker rocked in his seat and made a muffled noise. He could pass out from lack of air and still live. Peter prioritized his attention on the woman. Her hands were tied behind her back. Her knees and ankles were bound. The rope was adhered to the lashing hooks on the floor. There was a rag around her neck. Peter realized that the Joker had gagged her. She managed to slide it off her face at some point. What he'd believed to be blood was actually red paint. It covered the interior of the truck hastily. A few paint gallons and brushes were lying about. The woman had paint smeared on her clothes.

Peter saw two containers that had portable blower fans attached to them. The ventilation hoses led up to the roof hatch. That was how he was dispersing the fear toxin. Peter turned off the blowers by pulling the plug connected to a power inverter. The auxiliary power outlet on the control panel was the source of the electricity needed for the blowers.

With all that planning, how could people believe that the Joker was a lunatic who couldn't be held accountable for his actions? The psychopath was very much aware of what he was doing, no matter how chaotic he seemed to act. The Joker was meticulous. He did not leave any loose ends. The woman and her baby were unforeseen collateral. Because no matter how much he planned, he couldn't control everything, including a passerby who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Spider-Man took your baby to the hospital. He'll be alright. I want to make sure you're stable. Is it okay if I come closer?"

"Monster…" the woman whispered harshly. "It was a monster. My baby."

She started to cry. Peter knelt next to her and took her pulse. He checked her eyes for a concussion and deemed her ready to be moved. He untied her, and she curled into a fetal position.

The Joker was still thrashing about. But he stilled when he saw Peter staring at him from the rearview mirror. The Joker let out a muffled scream followed by a sound that could've been a muffled laugh before his eyes rolled back. And finally, he fainted. Peter left the woman for a second to remove the webbing of the Joker's nose. He left the rest to fate as he walked back to the woman.

"I'm getting you out of here," Peter said to the woman, using a soft tone as he scooped her up. He could hear the sounds of sirens and hoped an ambulance was on its way with the police. As Peter exited from the truck, he saw Batman running towards them. Batman was wearing a tactical air-purifying respirator mask.

"The Joker is tied in the cabin. Is there an ambulance nearby?" Peter asked once Batman was in hearing range. He looked around and saw the police cars further away. The cops were wearing gas masks. Good idea. If it wasn't for the antidote he'd received earlier, Peter may have succumbed to the fear toxin ages ago.

Batman stood stock still. He stared at Peter with an unwavering gaze. It was unnerving. He wondered if that was how criminals felt when he stared at them in his Spider-Man mask. Probably.

"She needs an ambulance. The Joker was holding her hostage."

"You're not affected by the fear toxin?" Batman said. His voice was rough. Angry.

The woman in Peter's arms turned and stared at Batman before she let out a screech. She thrashed. Peter barely managed to keep her in his arms. He made a show of losing his footing for Batman's benefit.

"Hey, it's okay. You're safe," Peter said in a soft tone. The woman stilled and buried her face in his chest. She let out a soft whimper. He shushed her softly before glaring at Batman. He let out a sigh. It wasn't the other man's fault. But the woman needed help. She had been so close to the source of the fear toxin that it was a miracle that she could remain somewhat calm.

"Maybe save the growling for the villains. This woman needs help. Can you please direct me to the nearest ambulance?"

Batman murmured into his mask. More than likely, he was talking to someone on his comm. Then he turned and walked off towards a patrol car. Was Peter supposed to follow?

Batman turned back. "Follow me," he said in a softer tone.

Peter followed after the other man. When he passed the barricades set by the police, he saw a paramedic waiting for them with a wheeled stretcher. Peter set the woman down and told the paramedic what he knew. Once the paramedic pulled away, Peter allowed a cop to force him to bend over the trunk of a patrol car. He was handcuffed and read his rights.

What the actual fuck? He looked back in time to see Batman's retreating form. Oh, you are a piece of work, aren't you?

Peter had ignored the officer who read him his rights. He was busy planning his revenge on the Bat.

"Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?" a police officer said to him in an angry tone.

"No!" Peter said in the same tone. "On what grounds am I being arrested?"

"Let him go," said the tired voice of the Commissioner.

"Are you sure, Commissioner? Batman said he might be working with the Joker. He wasn't even affected by the fear toxin," said the officer in protest.

The hand holding him down retreated. Peter imagined that all the Commissioner had to do was give the officer a dad glare. He bit back a chuckle. He heard the police officer take a couple of steps back. The fact that they kept him in handcuffs did not escape Peter's notice.

"You're not under arrest," Commissioner Gordon told Peter when he stood up. "But I'd prefer to keep you detained until you are clear of suspicion. I hope you understand. Officer Strode!"

"Yes, Commissioner," a young female cop approached them. She was wearing a mask like all the others.

"Please take this gentleman to the hospital for a quick check-up. When they discharge him, take him to the precinct."

"Do I get a say in this?" Peter asked in annoyance.

"None whatsoever," said the Commissioner in a no-nonsense tone.

"Does everyone who steps in to help a stranger from a lunatic get this type of treatment?" Peter said with a glare of his own.

The Commissioner stared at him but didn't answer. He looked exhausted, and Peter would feel bad about making his night a tad more difficult if he'd done anything wrong. He rattled the handcuffs behind his back to make a point. Commissioner Gordon sighed and looked at Officer Strode. He gestured with his chin to get Peter out of there.

"Alright, let's get you to a hospital. The faster we get this done, the sooner I can be off babysitting duty," said Officer Strode in a friendly tone. She has to be a rookie. No one on the job longer than a year would sound so chipper.

Peter looked around assessing his predicament. Ugh!The things I do to keep my secret can be more than a little frustrating.

"Why do I have to go to the hospital? I feel fine," Peter complained.

"You got me."

"If you're trying to trick me into getting a DNA test, you're wasting your time. It will not work. Besides, I have rights. One of my rights is to refuse medical care."

Officer Strode pretended to ignore him as she ushered him into the back of a patrol car. As soon as she shut the door, however, she pulled out her radio and asked to speak to the Commissioner. Strode relayed what Peter had said. She rounded the car to get into the driver's side once at the directive to take him to the precinct.

Crisis averted. Peter relaxed. There was no way that he would allow them to get a sample of his blood.

"It's your lucky day. You get to go straight to the precinct."

"Go directly to jail. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200," Peter recited automatically.

Officer Strode snorted. "Oh, you are going to be fun."

You have no idea how fun I can be if I put my mind to it.