Spider-Bat: New Way Home

Chapter 22: Kung Fu Fighting

After driving for a few hours, Rick, Alfred, and Peter decided to turn the jeep around and head back to Rick's house. They wanted to get confirmation of what happened during the fight between Lobo, Wolverine, and Hulk. With any luck, Banner might have survived, allowing Peter to ask him more questions about his real parents.

The three of them stepped into what was left of Rick's modest suburban house, the wooden floor creaking beneath their feet. The house was filled with dust and debris because of the battle that had ensued just outside of the place. Alfred's sharp eyes scanned the room, his demeanor calm and collected as always.

"There's no sign of the Chameleon," Alfred stated, continuing to poke his head around every corner. He then made another observation. "Rick, didn't you place a spare set of clothes for Doctor Banner on the armrest of this couch?" he inquired, adjusting his tie with a practiced motion. "It would appear that someone has taken them."

Rick shrugged, tossing his keys onto a nearby table, still unable to believe what had happened to his home. "Yeah. It would appear so. Judging by the several footsteps in the dust, I would assume the military looked around for clues. Maybe they took the clothes for some odd reason."

Peter's spider-sense tingled faintly as they moved through the house. Something felt off. He turned to Rick, eyebrows raised. "Hey, Rick, does anyone else have access to your place?"

Rick shook his head. "No one. Why?"

Peter didn't answer. Instead, he silently gestured toward the basement door, which was slightly ajar. Rick's face paled. He motioned for the others to stay quiet as he cautiously approached the door. Alfred and Peter followed closely, their movements deliberate. They assumed the Chameleon might be hiding down there.

Rick pushed the door open, revealing a dimly lit staircase. They descended quietly, the faint sound of labored breathing becoming clearer with each step. At the bottom, they found Dr. Bruce Banner huddled against the corner wall, his confused face shadowed by exhaustion. He was wearing the spare set of clothing Rick had brought him a few hours prior.

"Bruce?" Rick exclaimed, his voice a mix of surprise and concern. "Are you okay?"

Banner looked up, his eyes filled with a mix of guilt and desperation. "I didn't know where else to go," he admitted. "After what happened, I needed a place to lay low. I'm sorry, Rick."

"You have no reason to be sorry, Bruce," Rick replied. "I'm just glad you are safe…and…less green."

"Green?" Banner retorted, confused by that remark.

"Well…more like a grayish-green, but there was definitely some green in there," Rick recalled.

"Do you remember your transformation?" Alfred intervened. "Do you remember anything about your fight with a giant albino and a short man with claws?"

Banner shook his head. "No. Everything is still a blur." Then he looked down at his body. "I guess that explains the claw marks all over my back and neck area."

"What do you remember?" Rick chimed in.

"I remember waking up in this basement. Military men were still looking around. I wasn't sure if they were looking for me or not. I wasn't going to take a chance, so I hid behind the furnace. Luckily, they never went back that far."

Peter stepped forward, having a few questions of his own. "Lobo and Wolverine were the names of the men you fought," he recalled, having a pretty good memory to detail. "They were asking about the alien that crash-landed on earth several years ago. Why do you think they are looking for him? Do you think it involves Osborn's experiments?"

"I'm not sure of why they are looking for Clark," Banner revealing the alien's name. "It could have something to do with the experiments, but I'm not sure. Osborn was always more interested in the black alien compound than anything else."

Peter knew exactly what Banner meant when he spoke of the black alien compound. It ran deep in his veins, and he could feel it. "I still have more questions about that, but right now I am more worried about the alien you called Clark. If Lobo and Wolverine were able to find you, they will surely find him as well. We need to get to him first and warn him." Peter insisted, knowing he could always ask him more questions on the way.

After strategizing a bit more, the group decided it was time to move. They knew Peter was right, so they asked Banner to lead the way. Banner nodded, his expression wary but resolute.

The journey to Smallville was uneventful, the quiet countryside a stark contrast to the chaos that often surrounded their lives. They arrived at the Kent family farm just as the sun was setting, its golden rays casting long shadows across the fields. Clark Kent, a tall and unassuming teenager with a gentle demeanor, emerged from the barn, wiping his hands on a rag.

"Can I help you?" he asked, his tone polite but guarded.

Rick stepped forward. "Clark, we need to talk. You're in danger. There's a guy named Lobo, and another named Wolverine. They're… not exactly friendly."

Clark's eyes narrowed. "How do you know about me?" he nervously asked. Then he noticed Doctor Banner stepping out of the vehicle. "You!" he exclaimed, pointing at Banner. "I told you to never come back here again! Now you guys are saying I am in danger!" he aggressively added, his fists clenched.

Peter raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Whoa, we're not here to fight. We're here to help."

But Clark didn't buy it. "If you know who I am, that means you're a threat to my family. I can't let that happen." His tone continued to grow more firm, and before anyone could react, he launched himself at Peter with a burst of speed.

Peter's spider-sense screamed in warning, and he narrowly dodged Clark's initial attack. "Okay, guess we're doing this the hard way," Peter muttered, webbing his hands like boxing gloves and leaping into action. The two clashed in a whirlwind of punches and acrobatics, Clark's raw power meeting Peter's agility and strength.

Peter shot out a web-line, attaching it to the top of the barn. He then circled Clark in order to gain a better vantage point. He shot webbing at Clark's feet, hoping to immobilize him. Clark tore through it effortlessly, his Kryptonian strength shredding the sticky threads like paper. Peter launched a flurry of punches and kicks, each one calculated and precise, but Clark countered with ease, blocking and parrying with remarkable speed.

Clark retaliated with a powerful blow that Peter barely managed to dodge. The force of the punch sent a shockwave through the air, knocking Peter off balance. Seizing the opportunity, Clark grabbed Peter by the arm and hurled him across the field. Peter twisted mid-air, firing a web-line to catch himself on a nearby tree. He landed gracefully, but was visibly shaken.

"Not bad, Smallville," Peter quipped, trying to mask his unease. "But I've faced bigger guys than you."

Clark frowned, his determination unwavering. He charged again, faster this time. Peter made it seem as if he was going to meet him head-on, but instead, he did an acrobatic flip over Clark and delivered a powerful kick to his back. Clark stumbled but quickly recovered, turning to grab Peter as he attempted to do another flip. He then slammed Peter into the ground with enough force to leave a small crater.

Peter groaned, struggling to stand. His clothing was torn, and his breathing was labored. "Okay," he muttered, "maybe this wasn't my best idea."

Clark loomed over him, his expression conflicted. "Stay down," he said firmly. "I don't want to hurt you any more than I have to."

Peter smirked despite the pain. "Funny, I was about to say the same thing." He shot webbing directly at Clark's face, temporarily blinding him. Peter used the distraction to spring to his feet and deliver a series of rapid strikes, aiming for pressure points. While it slowed Clark momentarily, it wasn't enough to keep him down.

Clark tore the webbing from his face with a growl, his eyes glowing faintly red. Before he could unleash his heat vision, however, Banner stepped forward, his voice low and steady. "Clark, stop. We're not your enemies."

Clark glanced at Banner, but didn't lower his guard. "I don't believe you," he exclaimed, quickly turning his attention back to Peter.

Banner sighed, his body trembling as his emotions took hold. Within moments, the transformation began. His muscles bulged, his skin turned a grayish-green, and the Hulk emerged with a roar that echoed across the farmland.

"Leave ant-kid alone!" the Hulk bellowed, charging at Clark. The two collided in a thunderous clash, shaking the ground beneath them. Clark met Hulk's charge with equal force, his hands digging into Hulk's massive shoulders as they grappled. The ground beneath their feet cracked and caved from the sheer weight of their power.

Hulk roared and swung a massive fist, connecting with Clark's jaw and sending him flying through the barn wall. Clark crashed into a tractor, the metal buckling under the impact. He had never felt anything that powerful before. Clark then stood up, brushing debris from his shoulders, his eyes burning with determination. In a blur of motion, Clark charged back, tackling Hulk and dragging him through the cornfields, shucks dispersing in all directions.

While on the ground, Hulk grabbed a massive chunk of earth and hurled it at Clark, who incinerated it mid-air with his heat vision. The beams narrowly missed Hulk, scorching a deep trench in the field behind him. Clark closed the distance, delivering a series of punches to Hulk's midsection. Each hit echoed like a cannon blast, but the Hulk barely flinched, his rage fueling his resilience.

"Farm-boy strong," Hulk growled, grabbing Clark by the shoulder and spinning him around before hurling him skyward. "But Hulk stronger!" he declared. Clark caught himself mid-air, hovering for a moment before diving back down at supersonic speed. The impact of his landing created a shockwave that knocked Hulk off his feet.

Hulk roared in frustration, slamming his fists into the ground and causing a small earthquake. Clark staggered but remained standing, his expression a mix of frustration and respect. Hulk charged again, but this time his movements were slower, less aggressive. As they clashed once more, Hulk's rage seemed to ebb.

"You're like me," Hulk said suddenly, his voice breaking through the chaos. "You fight because you have to."

Clark hesitated, his fists still raised. He studied the Hulk's face, seeing not just anger but a deep sadness. Slowly, Hulk began to shrink, his massive frame receding until only Bruce Banner remained, kneeling in the dirt.

Clark, breathing heavily, looked at the group with new eyes. "Why are you really here?"

Peter, still lying on the ground but giving a thumbs-up, groaned, "Told you… we're the good guys."

Rick stepped forward again, his tone earnest. "Clark, we're on your side. Let us help you."

Clark hesitated, then nodded slowly. The tension eased, and the group stood together, united by a fragile but growing trust.

"What next?" Clark asked, gazing towards the farmhouse, worried about his family.

Alfred wasn't sure what to say because he was still a bit shocked by Peter's abilities. "How did you do all that?"

"I'm still a bit shocked myself," Peter replied. "It seems to come instinctively."

Banner stood there, confused. "What happened?" he asked, looking down at his stretched out clothes. "The last thing I remember is the two of you fighting before I blacked out… And why does my face hurt so bad?" he added, clenching his jaw.

The other men could only stand there chuckling.

"I guess we all have a few things to figure out as we move forward," Peter acknowledged, still smiling at Banner's confusion. "One thing is for certain…" he paused. "We definitely need to get you some more stretchy pants," he quipped, continuing to lighten the mood.

Just then, Alfred came up with a brilliant idea. "I might know someone who can help," he offered his thoughts.

"Who?" Everyone waited for his response.

Alfred wasn't very knowledgeable about working with people—or aliens—who had special powers and abilities, but he knew someone who did. "I met a man while working for the Queen of England. His name was Charles Xavier. He was born in England but moved to the states when he was younger. After his high school graduation, he chose to study abroad-back in his native country. I found his studies to be quite unique, to say the least."

"Where is he at now?" Peter asked, eager to figure out their next step.

"The last I heard, he moved back to New York—Salem Center, Westchester County."