First, I want to say this but damn you guys read fast. Like it was just 30 minutes in and I received reviews. I'm happy y'all enjoy it. There is a lot more I want to say after the chapter but for now. Enjoy
Episode 2: Double Trouble
Spider-Man hadn't expected things to spiral even further—from a simmering disaster to full-blown chaos.
His body and mind are drained of whatever energy he has left, his suit reduced to rags as he clings to the side of a water tower—a cylindrical storage tank made of the thinnest foil our friendly neighborhood hero has ever had the misfortune to hang onto.
He hides as our enigmatic rifleman takes aim and fires at him and his 'acquaintance'—who is, at this moment, clinging to him for dear life. One of his arms wraps tightly around her midsection—enough for the webslinger to feel a bit of softness beneath the thick Kevlar.
They were as still as awkwardly placed statues as they waited for more gunfire after the few that had passed. Their breathing was slow- almost in a dead stop. Holding their breath as if the rifleman possessed a preternatural sense of hearing .
Everything was quiet, not even the purrs of the stray cats could have been heard- a needle could have dropped thirty yards from here and the sound would've been similar to the bomb dropped in Nagasaki.
Spider-Man and his companion hide in the shadows, the darkness their ally—moonlight, a snitch.
There were no more gunshots- no longer the booming sound that pierced the silence of the night. Gotham had returned to its normalcy but Spider-Man knew that was farther from the truth.
They were still exposed- his humming spider-sense is the proof of this endeavor.
"I don't think our little peeping-tom packed up and left just yet," Spider-Man mumbles—a witticism he can't help but throw in, even now.
"No shit, Sherlock," His companion sassed back at his remark.
Spider-Man groaned, "and here I thought I did fairly well in curbing Black Mask's band of troublesome bruisers- but no. I'd let one slip."
"It's not one of Black Mask's guys," she corrected him, which had the hero raising a brow behind his mask.
"It's not?"
"No," The bat-themed vigilante reaffirmed her stance with unwavering conviction.
Spider-Man felt her shift her weight, her fingers toying with her belt in a way that quietly piqued his interest.
After toying inside her belt. The bat-themed vigilante retrieved a strange device, similar to the once she had flinged at him minutes before. Compared to those- this one was larger in size with a wider wingspan- an elbow-shaped design which Peter theorized could provide an unbalanced aerodynamic force during flight. By designing the wings as airfoils that generate lift as it spins if thrown. And finally a small camera capable of adjusting its view on command was embedded in the center of the symbol.
She raised the gadget above the head, striking as if she was about to fling it.
"Sorry to burst your bubble, lady, but unless that thing's heat-seeking, you're just tossing it into the dark." Spider-Man could not help but comment.
She looked at him- a cheeky look on her face as she replied with, "Left the heat-seekers at home—but I did bring the next best thing." and flung the device like a boomerang.
With a throw that would have made an Australian proud, she sent the Batarang arcing wide. Spider-Man tracked it as it curved around the edge of their cover. He then shifted his gaze to Batgirl who was focused on the holographic display glowing on her wrist, eyes locked on the Batarang's live feed.
Curious, he leaned in over her shoulder. Through the camera's night-vision lens, the world appeared washed in ghostly grays—rooftops, chimneys, vents all draped in shadow.
They both held their breath as the Batarang glided on, sweeping over the rooftops like a silent drone. For a moment, it looked like it would turn up nothing. Just more empty dark.
Peering over her shoulder, Spider-Man viewed the world through the camera's nocturnal lens—buildings, chimneys, vents, all cast in ghostly shades of gray.
The two held their breath as they watched the live feed, waiting for any sign of unusual activity—hoping the device had picked up the location of their gunman. For a moment, it seemed like a lost cause.
Then—without warning—a gunshot tore through the night, a blinding muzzle flash erupting from a rooftop seven buildings away. Before any of the vigilantes could react, the feed flickered once… then cut to black.
"Well, now we know where he is," Spider-Man said, "Now how're we going to reach him?"
Spider-Man didn't know why, but he could tell the bat-themed vigilante was deep in thought. He figured it had something to do with how quiet she was. Then her gaze locked onto Spider-Man's mask—green eyes staring into his snowy white lenses.
"Do you think you can swing us closer?" Batgirl asked.
Spider-Man said nothing at first and decided to adjust himself and her while they cling on the side of the water tank. Batgirl was tightly pressed on Spider-Man's body while her arms encircled his neck, freeing his arm.
He could see the bat-themed crimefighter watch him in his peripherals as he inspected web-shooters wrapped around his wrist which was hidden behind his sleeves. It was blinking red and Spider-Man couldn't help "tsk" at the sight of it.
"I've got one last thwip in me left—after that, I'll be empty." Spider-Man confessed with a windy sigh.
Spider-Man tilts his head toward the girl clinging to his body and notices the playful smirk on her face.
"One thwip is all we need," She says with confidence as she reaches inside her belt once again to grab a metal sphere that was the size of a ping-pong ball- a bit bigger. "Here's the plan."
Seven buildings away from the secluding heroes- perched on the roof. His eye was down the thermal scope of his trusty rifle- its muzzle emitting wisp of smoke from his previous shots fired. He held closely his custom semi-automatic with a barrel length of 29 inches and weighing 29.8 pounds and carrying ten rounds of 50 BMG. His Barrett M107A1 was no toy but a high-level killing tool and deadlier in better hands- his hands. A rifle of mass destruction all in red and black colors.
"Now where did you two go?" He murmured to hisself, voice coming out muffled by his mask. "You can't stay hiding forever- especially around me."
He waited as he always did, patience ingrained in him. A mission like this required thoroughness—something he had no trouble with. Especially when it involved the Bats.
Deadshot waited for someone to pop their head for him to pop it out of existence. Black Mask might have been caught with his pants down but he still paid the assassin to do this hit and it must have been lady luck in bringing the girl he was looking for within reach.
The only downside was the wannabe Black Spider tagging along the redhead crime-fighter. Punk managed to duck n' dive out of the shot. He shouldn't have seen it coming but he did and he missed.
He can't miss. That wasn't his style and that bastard was messing it up.
Deadshot didn't long until a black smoke appeared in his thermal scope which covered a small area of the roof.
He didn't panic but he fired blindly in the smoke- trying to tag someone who was maneuvering inside them. He stopped firing as more smoke appeared. Its pattern was closing into his direction.
But he saw no one. No movement except a faint heat signal that disappeared in a flash.
"Come out and play already!" Deadshot grinded his teeth. "Where the hell are you two?"
SMACK!
Deadshot found himself rolling across the rooftop away from his rifle. He was hit- right across the face with a force resembling a baseball bat. The assassin crashed on the wall- slamming his back painfully as it bounced his head by the impact itself.
"Right here, Deadshot," a feminine voice spat.
Deadshot tilted his head toward the sound—and saw her. The one and only Batgirl, crouched beside his rifle.
Just behind her, perched atop a narrow air vent, was another figure cloaked in black. An unknown accomplice. The sleek torn suit had Deadshot briefly thinking it was Black Spider. But in a closer look he noticed the character in front of him seems to be a lot leaner with refined muscles compared to the member of the League of Assassin.
Deadshot pushed himself back to his feet, boots grinding against the gravel as he raised both wrist-mounted guns at the pair of costumed intruders.
"Well, well… Batgirl," he drawled, a smirk curling beneath his mask. "How've you been, doll? Long time no see."
Then his visor shifted toward the shadowy figure perched behind her.
"And Black Spider—didn't know you flipped sides."
The remark had accidentally hit a mark. The mysterious figure didn't speak, but a subtle twitch in his neck, a flex of muscle, gave away the tension beneath the suit.
"What are you doing here Deadshot?" Batgirl interrogated with an obvious scowl and venom in her voice- most common to bat-heroes Deadshot had faced.
"And I'm not Black Spider," Deadshot switched his gaze to the spider-themed hero who groaned. "Hi, I'm Spider-Man, new to Gotham."
Deadshot ignores the now named Spider-Man and continues to answer Batgirl's question.
"Blackie gave me a gig to take you out of the picture," Deadshot answered, as he teases the triggers of his wrist guns. "Nothin' personal doll, it's just business."
"Black Mask has been apprehended, Lawton. Give it up—we got you, two to one."
Deadshot smirked. "Who said I was working alone? Turns out, I've got someone who shares my enthusiasm for taking you out."
He couldn't help but enjoy the flicker of confusion on the veteran Batgirl's face.
But before he could savor it—
Spider-Man sprang from his perch, tackling Batgirl out of the way just as a hail of bullets tore through the air—fired not by Deadshot, but by his unseen partner.
How?! Deadshot cursed silently, his mind racing as he opened fire, unleashing his own barrage at the two dodging heroes.
Deadshot was stunned.
Spider-Man was weaving through gunfire from every direction—leaping, flipping, rolling—effortlessly slipping through the chaos without so much as a graze.
And he was doing it all with Batgirl cradled in his arms.
He wasn't even looking.
The bastard's not even looking! Deadshot screamed in his head, watching in disbelief as the web-slinger danced through bullets like it was second nature— like he was taunting the world's greatest sharpshooter.
Deadshot increases his onslaught- no longer aiming for precision. Spraying them with all he got before the Spider-Man hero took a final leap behind a brick wall.
Hiding behind the moss covered layered bricks.
Spider-Man tries his best to make himself small as the barrage of bullets tries its best to tear the wall- the only thing protecting him and his new friend.
He held her tightly to his form. Using his body to block off the falling crumbs of the wall from getting to her.
"I don't mean to brag or anything," Spider-Man quipped, still cradling the caped vigilante, "but that's twice I've saved your butt tonight."
Batgirl didn't respond. Without a word, she reached into her belt and pulled out three familiar sphere-shaped devices. In one smooth motion, she hurled them over the wall.
A rapid series of bangs and booms erupted—followed by bursts of blinding light and thick plumes of smoke.
Spider-Man flinched at the noise, hearing a sharp cry from the other side. He peeked around the corner and spotted Deadshot, staggering and clutching his eyes in pain.
Before he could comment, Batgirl was already moving—springing from his arms and vaulting toward the chaos.
"Okay—guess we're doing this," Spider-Man muttered, launching after her.
Batgirl was already closing the distance, arms snapping forward in quick succession as she hurled razor-sharp batarangs with surgical precision.
Concealing herself with the smoke to avoid the sights of the other shooter.
Spider-Man watched as the female vigilante launched herself off the floor and fired a kick which had the sharpshooting vigilante flying once again.
The hero stared in amazement at her skills as she followed her attack with a barrage of stylish kicks and punches.
Deadshot swiftly avoided the flurry of her attacks and was able to keep distance- enough for him to train his right wrist gun down at the vigilante.
Spider-Man's face paled behind his mask, the hero took action quickly before the assassin would have created his friend's demise by a single well timed shot in point blank range.
He quickly acted to her rescue by tearing off a piece of brick from the wall's layer and pitching the crude rectangular shape like it was a baseball.
He hurled the brick towards the villain- a fastball special he calls it. The brick blasted off towards its target making the loudest boom in Gotham.
The trained assassin failed to notice the speeding brick and took it square in the center of his head.
Spider-Man couldn't help but snigger as he watched the masked criminal crumple to the ground like a Raggedy Ann doll.
BZZT!
Spider-Man swiftly rolled away from a hail of bullets by instinct. Its piercing effects of full metal jackets ripping the concrete flooring of his previous position.
Spider-Man's gaze snapped toward the source of the gunfire, his mutated senses locking on to the shooter—right as his instincts screamed a warning.
A split-second before the trigger could be pulled, Spider-Man dove toward a nearby air conditioning unit and kicked the heavy metal box straight at his attacker.
In the darkness, his heightened senses caught a flicker of movement—someone flipping clear just as the unit came crashing down where they'd been standing.
"Shooting a guy while his back was turned," Spider-Man muttered, already charging. "That is such a sucker move, pal."
He closed the gap with a slide tackle that could put any pro soccer player to shame—
and make the ref seriously reconsider his life choices.
The slide tackle found its mark, striking the newman's leg and sending him toppling over, his body going limp in the air before he flipped himself back to recovery.
The phantom assassin tried to sight down with his gun but was quickly stopped by Spider-Man rushing once again in a split second with a leaping straight that hit the assassin square in the metal mask he wore.
"Not so fast!" Spider-Man vociferate as he followed his straight with a kick that struck the villain at his side.
But he blocked it and snatched the hero's leg the moment he made contact with his elbow.
The villain with all his strength swung the web-slinger away. Spider-Man quickly recovered and clung to the ground to stop his moment.
"Not bad, kid," The mysterious villain says. His voice was gravely and stoic. "But I've seen better."
"Dude, I hit you with a non-combative move. I think that calls for a little bit of praise, don'tcha think?" Spider-Man gestures towards his new opponent.
With a little more light appearing in his vision. His opponent was getting clearer until he was no longer a silhouette in the shadows.
Even from his crouched position, Spider-Man could tell the man towering tall—easily over six feet, edging out his own 5'11" by just enough to be annoying.
The guy was built like a tank, broad-shouldered and solid, even without factoring in the tactical black-and-orange armor strapped over him.
His helmet was what really caught Spider-Man's eye—sleek and brutal. It reminded him of those Army of Two masks Ned used to obsess over, except meaner. The design was split clean down the middle: matte black on the right, burnt orange on the left, with only one eyehole carved into the orange side—revealing a single, cold gray eye staring him down like a laser sight.
The armor was layered with small metal plates, strategically placed to guard vital organs while leaving the joints covered only by a thick, stretchable fabric—built for mobility without sacrificing too much protection.
To Spider-Man, the whole getup looked like some kind of heavy-duty, combat-ready ninja gear.
"You talk too much to be Black Spider- you sound younger too," The masked assassin says. "Did you steal one of his suits, kid and decided to play hero?"
"First off—it's Spider-Man. Get the name right, you knockoff Shredder," Spider-Man shot back. "And second, these are my threads. Not the original, but still homemade—charmingly DIY. What do they even call you, anyway?"
"You must be new to the family... if you haven't heard of me," Deathstroke said, stepping toward the vigilante with slow, deliberate confidence.
"The name's Deathstroke. And if you're smart, you'll walk away now. You're not the League's target—yet."
The now named Deathstroke draws his sword behind his back. Its stainless sharp blade glinting in the little light in Gotham night.
"Deathstroke? Why, you got hypertension or somethin'?" Spider-Man quips and he could hear a grunt coming from his menacing killer. "Dastardly Diabetes has more flare than Deathstroke to be honest."
Spider-Man could see how the villain choked his sword's hilt with his grip after the comment, a smirk crept in his lips as he balled his fist tightly but before he could make his first move he noticed the scrapping happening behind his opponent.
In a far view his heightened vision could easily notice Batgirl and Deadshot fighting in the background.
And Deadshot was getting the upper hand.
Batgirl was struggling to catch up and close the distance before Deadshot could aim his wrist guns. Batgirl resorted to flinging her batarangs for suppression and dropping smoke bombs for concealment to avoid getting shot at.
Spider-Man could feel the worry creeping inside him. Too focused on his ally to notice the sword swinging across his neck.
Thank you spider-sense.
Spider-Man ducked under the edge of his sword and countered with a straight jab squarely to Deathstoke's gut and an uppercut to his chin.
The villain was staggered by the two blows but Spider-Man didn't proceed with a follow up. Instead, he slipped away from the sword-wielding villain and blitzed towards Batgirl and Deadshot.
Batgirl was in a tight spot. Her body was getting weary by every action she made trying her best to cut the distance between herself and the gunning-hitman.
But she couldn't. She wasn't expecting to face a villain in Deadshot's caliber in her early recovery back to Batgirl.
Deadshot leaped back avoiding Batgirl's batarangs and aimed both of his wrist-mounted machine guns and sprayed bullets at Batgirl's direction. Batgirl quickly made a decision to take cover behind her cape. Her cape which was made with advanced material that can withstand small calibre bullets but not in high frequency.
A bullet tore through the hole and then her leg.
"Gah!" Batgril cried in pain but hid it behind grinding teeth.
Deadshot's courage surged the moment he heard the sweet sound of pain coming from the bat-themed vigilante. He saw an opportunity.
An opportunity that was quickly taken away from him the moment a brick struck him the head once again.
Batgirl peeked behind her cape and noticed Deadshot falling roughly to the floor as a brick fell beside him.
"You good?" Batgirl turns her head to see Spider-Man right beside her. His hands hovering her form in a confused state- wondering if they should provide assistance or not. "Shit, you're bleeding!"
And she was from how a splodge of red that was glaringly apparent at her thigh. Staining her once lavender suit.
But she couldn't feel it. The adrenaline coursing through her veins must have numbed the pain, blocking the signals from reaching her brain.
"I'm fine, it's just a scratch," Batgirl said.
"You sure, it looks bad," Spider-Man argued. More concerned for every second he was looking at her thigh. "I think you should sit this one out."
"NO!" She blurted with a piercing shriek that had Spider-Man recoiling back. The hero noticed Batgirl slowed her growing agitation with breathing.
Letting out a deep exhale before arguing. "I'm fine, it hasn't been my first time being shot."
She said, which had the web-slinger appearing more apprehensive than at ease. But in the look in her eyes, he knew there was no point in arguing with her. She was determined to continue fighting.
Spider-Man couldn't help but let out an exhausted breath. He lended the bat-themed vigilante a hand to lift her up her feet.
"Fine," The hero murmured, hesitancy in his tone. "But I'll handle Bill Hickock here while you deal with one-eyed ninja over there."
Batgirl confusedly turned her head to the direction the web-slinger was pointing at to see none other than Deathstroke. Her eyes widen at the sight of the skilled League of Assassin standing there with his hands on the side of his head as he tries his best to keep his balance.
Batgirl turned back to the hero, "Are you sure you can handle Deadshot?" She asked,a sense of worryness noticed in her voice. "Deadshot isn't your average hitman, he's skilled. Skilled enough to keep Batman on his toes."
"I'll just nod like I understand who're you're talkin' about," Batgirl couldn't hold a single snort escaping her lips the moment Spider-man actually nodded his head. "But deadass I can take this guy. I'm better at dippin' out of bullets than you. So go and deal with One-Eyed Willy while I'll deal with his trusty sidekick Quickdraw McGraw."
Batgirl nodded with a ghostly smile as she proceeded to rush towards Deathstroke while Spider-Man went for Deadshot who had already recovered.
With a new sense of determination and excitement, Batgirl leaped in the air and executed a flawless spinning back kick that struck the staggered villain.
Deathstroke grunted in pain as he was sent skidding on the ground. Lucky to have lifted his arms while still staggered to shield off the kick.
"Deathstroke, fancy meetin' you here of all places," Batgirl quips. Doesn't know where she was getting this new fond attitude from as a toothy smile was seen under her cowl. "The League got you doin' their errands again?"
"Batgirl, glad to see you're still kickin'," Deathstroke commented. "What got you back in the suit—leisure life wasn't all it was cracked up to be?"
"Pretty much not gonna lie," Batgirl says while striking a pose, a hand placed on a cocked hip. "Kinda miss the action."
"You should've stayed quiet, Batgirl," Deathstroke warned as he charged her with a swing of her blade which the bat hero blocked with her forearms. "You've no idea what's about to come,"
Batgirl continues with her defense, blocking and parrying blows after blows launched by the assassin.
"And why should I do that?" Batgirl swung and snapped her legs to the side of the villain's head which he had blocked. She then followed it with another snappy round kick to the villain's exposed side with the same leg.
This was a mistake as she felt her wounded leg going limp in the slightest bit.
Batgirl dips out of the range of Deathstroke's wild blade and slip under his attack to deliver a good boxing combo of a hook punch followed by a rear straight that struck his helmet.
Batgirl tries to slip out of the way once again but with her wounded leg- she trembles. Her wounded leg lacked the power to carry her weight.
Batgirl gritted her teeth as she was forced to block the solid roundhouse delivered by Deathstroke to the side of her head.
Batgirl recoiled from the impact as she hopped back out of range. Deathstroke twirled his sword, tauntingly as his focus locked toward the bat-hero.
"A war is coming Batgirl and there is nothin' you and the Bats can do to stop it," Deathstroke said.
"What are you talkin' about?" Batgirl asked, a sense of worry creeping up her spine. That short minute of worry caused her to be big as she wasn't able to block the skipping kick that cut through the distance and broke through her guard, sending her tumbling to the floor.
"Bats sure made quite an enemy," Deathstroke chuckled, lifting his sword and swinging it down at the vigilante before she could have time to recover back to her feet.
Instinctively, Batgirl raised her forearms to shield the strike. The blade cleaved through her yellow glove, slashing deep into her forearm.
A sharp cry escaped her as the pain flared, but Deathstroke wasn't done. He swung again, and this time, a light cutline appeared across her abdomen, leaving a trail of red.
Batgirl staggered back, flinging a bat-bomb at him. It struck him dead in the chest, and she heard a grunt of pain before he was swallowed by the flash of the explosion, smoke swirling around him. But as the blast echoed in her ears, Batgirl felt her strength waning.
The adrenaline was wearing off. She collapsed onto her back, clutching her bleeding abdomen, the pain finally crashing into her like a wave.
It hurts. Her body ached everywhere—the cuts, the bruises, the exhaustion. Her limbs were drained, not just from this fight but from the street thugs she'd battled earlier and the ones before them.
Now, she lay there on the gravel, struggling to hold the wound and stop the bleeding. She tried to crawl but froze in terror as Deathstroke emerged from the smoke.
She reached for her belt—
STOMP!
His boot crashed into her already wounded midsection.
"GAH!" Batgirl cried out, the sound tearing through her as Deathstroke applied more pressure to her bleeding abdomen.
"And these enemies I speak of don't play around, Batgirl," Deathstroke warned as Batgirl cries in pain. "They'll get rid of everyone you love."
"The League had tried before and failed," Batgirl spit through grinding teeth as she tried to control the pain. To hide her hurt but Deathstroke keeps on pushing his foot down on her abdomen, drawing more blood.
"This ain't the League, Batgirl- no, far worse than you expected," Deathstroke lifted his sword above his head, ready to plummet it down into Batgirl's chest. "The true holders of Gotham before Batman and the League ever had."
Batgirl was terrified and in pain as her eyes reflected the blade that was above her but she tried to keep calm, to show no fear as she scowled at Deathstroke. A sharper look- sharper than the sword Deathstroke had in his grip.
"And they'd been watching you. You're family for quite a while. Perched in their secret spots and analyzed your skills, your capabilities, and weakness." Deathstroke told, his one single eye in a cold gaze towards Batgirl's fiery gaze. "They want me to relay a message to your family. Want to hear it before you die, Batgirl. Listen closely. Beware the Co-"
"Hey Winky!"
SMACK!
Minutes Before
As Batgirl and Deathstroke continue the clash. On the other side of the roof Spider-Man and Deadshot were tussling at each other with the gunslinger continuously firing at the agile hero.
"I"M GETTIN' REAL FUCKIN' TIRED OF YOU THROWIN' A BRICK AT ME!" Deadshot cries in frustration as he continues to spray 9mm parabellum at the hero.
"Well learn how to catch better- who taught you how to play, Gary Sanchez?" Spider-Man cackles in glee as Deadshot roared in frustration as he continues to try his best to gun the hero down.
"Stand still you fuckin' bug!" Deadshot spat.
"And be an easy target for ya?" Spider-Man leaps and flips in the air to dodge several more slugs at him.
He landed perched on the Bulkhead of the stairs.
"Bruh, for a guy named Deadshot your missin' way worse than a stormtrooper."
Spider-Man bent over as slugs fired passed him while still perched on the bulkhead with ease.
"Bruuuh, If Lee Harvey Oswald had an aim like yours JFK would be alive." Spider-Man giggles.
"FUCK YOU!" Deadshot blurted out as he dived towards his rifle which laid flat on the floor.
Having enough he pulled his rifle and took aim and fired at the hero. No longer carrying about precious, finesse, and reputation at being the best shooter. He wanted Spider-Man dead even if it meant wasting seven mags of ammunition to do so.
Spider-Man was having the time of his life- joking around and taunting his newly acquired enemy from a different universe had finally fixed the funk that was affecting his mood. Leaping with grace and dancing around the gunfire. He sometimes giggles and sniggers behind closed lips.
But as he revelled in the feeling of his enemies dismay. Spider-Man noticed in his peripheral vision of Batgirl. His attention turned towards his partner just in time to see her being cut by a blade down her forearms.
NO! Spider-Man roared in his mind. He was no longer playing as he blitzed towards Deadshot, slipping away from the gunfire and striking the gunslinger with a cross to his gut. Having him gasping for air before finishing it off with a whirlwind kick that struck Deadshot in the side of the head and sent him flying into one side.
Spider–Man watched as Deadshot's body ragdolled on the gravel beneath them. "And stay down while I'll deal with you friend, capiche!"
He quips but it was less in his joking nature- his voice coming out as panic.
He should have known it was a bad idea to let her fight. She was shot already. He should have forced her to stop but he didn't.
He sprinted towards Batgirl and Deadshot with the speed of a bullet. Deathstroke stomped onto Batgirl's wounded stomach as she wailed in pain. His sword raised up high ready to deliver the finishing blow.
Spider-Man did not think but let instincts take over. His unconscious decision to catapult himself off the ground and chambering his knee close to his gut.
"Hey Winky!" He blurted out to grab Deathstroke's attention.
SMACK!
His knee drove into the villain's mask and with the force and speed he was going- both him and Deathstroke were sent flying.
Deathstroke's whole body was sent reeling by the sheer force of impact of Spider-Man's knee. It not only made contact but caved his mask into his face. The knee had broke his nose.
The two were now rolling on the ground. Spider-Man, being the first to recover, quickly attacks the skilled assassin by swinging a weighted kick while he was still down.
Deathstroke quickly lifted his sword in front of him to defend himself by the incoming impact. The flat of the blade made direct contact to kick and Deathstroke watched as his sword shatters in short-sharp fragments in very own eye. The kick broke through his guard and slammed into his face making him skid across the roof floor and come crashing into the brick parapet The structure buckling in by the impact created a small crater to be snugged in.
"Sssuuuuusss!" Spider-Man cheered but his tone was not jolly, far from it.
Spider-Man didn't care if Deathstroke was down or not. He was worried for Batgirl. Crouching towards the down redhead she lifted her back and placed her gently on his knee.
"Batsy you got to calm down the intensity with your fights- you're givin' little ole me a heart attack every second." Spider-Man tries to quip his worry away. Make light of the situation.
But his mind wouldn't.
Flashes of old memories he tries to bury keep replaying in his mind.
Fire… smoke… laughter… explosion… May.
"I'm glad I'm able to keep you on your toes," Batgirl quips back. Her face scrunched up in pain as she spoke. "G-Grab a vile in my belt, the small spray on my belt- the one with the r-red cross."
She instructed through the pain. Spider-Man wasted no time in searching inside her belt and finding the small spray bottle.
"Spray it on me," She instructed once again, gesturing to her open wound on her stomach.
Spider-Man did so, spraying the content of the bottle and letting the cool minty smelling mist touch her wounded skin.
The blood stopped flowing.
"Th-That's better," Batgirl says, letting out a tired breath.
"What did I hit you with?" Spider-Man asked, looking at the bottle with a puzzled look.
"A first-aid tool I've been working on," Batgirl said, "Help form a protective barrier, reducing the risk of infection while speeding up the body's natural healing process."
"That's cool," Spider-Man says as he tries to find the ingredients on the bottle but finds nothing.
His attention returns back to Batgirl.
"But are you okay?" Spider-Man asked, the worry returning to him.
"Just a bit winded, that's all." Batgirl replied with a crooked smile, hoping it would have calmed the masked-hero.
Spider-Man was about to reply. Probably something about taking it easy—
Then pain cracked the back of his head like a hammer.
His spider-sense flared. His body moved on instinct.
Deathstroke wasn't out.
The bastard had tossed a baseball-sized device—blinking red, beeping louder and faster with every tick.
Spider-Man knew what that meant.
He didn't think. Didn't wait. He moved.
Diving straight for it.
Batgirl didn't even have time to shout before he dropped her like a sack and hurled himself forward.
Then—BOOM!
A sharp blast rang out. But it was controlled, its radius reaching not as far as expected from an explosive since Spider-Man had dived into the bomb and used his body as a shield to conceal the blast.
She felt the heat. The push. But Spider-Man took the worst of it.
She watched him fly across the roof—slammed straight into a brick bulkhead like a ragdoll— and hit the ground. Hard.
"Spider-Man!" Batgirl cries in worry. The first time she had actually called him by his hero name so naturally she wasn't able to notice.
"I'm gettin' real sick of that loud-mouth, cocky little prick you're runnin' with."
Batgirl turned her head toward the voice.
Deathstroke was up. Staggering with blood pooling down the bottom of his helmet. A visible dent dead center in its plate- caved in by Spider-Man's knee as his single grey eye stared viciously at her.
"After killing you, I'll be skinning your friend," Deathstroke growled. Batgirl was more surprised than scared-he had never seen the infamous assassin this mad before.
A brick was sent rocketing at Deathstroke's location and the assassin simply seized the crude brick with a single hand. Crushing the hardened clay to crumbs.
Batgirl turned his head to see the web-slinging hero back on his feet.
His suit is nothing more than -Man sucked in a ragged breath. His chest burned like hellfire—skin raw and scorched where the blast had kissed him. The front of his suit was torn wide open, revealing angry welts and bruises blooming beneath. Charred fabric clung to his frame, and through the slits in his mask, tufts of singed hair poked out.
Spider-Man's mask was in tatters— short tears visible along the lines of his jaw that showed bleeding cuts with one lens cracked like a spiderweb, the other completely blown out. Through the ruined opening, a single hazel eye with a cut bleeding brow locked onto Deathstroke, unblinking and burning with the same fury the assassin wore like armor.
"You have to go through me before you touch her," Spider-Man growled- unnatural to the wisecracking crime-fighter.
"Forget it, I'll skin you now!" Deathstroke charged at him and so did Spider-Man.
The two clashed against one another. Spider-Man uses his agile footwork, flexibility, and supernatural athleticism to avoid Deathstroke's sharp strikes and calculated attacks.
Spider-Man uses his spider-sense to distinguish a genuine attack or traps set up by the better skilled combater.
Spider-Man slipped away from a hook punch by rotating his body from the blow. Using his rotation Spider-Man fired a turning sidekick that struck the villain in his gut. Making him stagger back.
Deathstroke coughs out blood, "Lucky shot," He commented, his voice coming out nasally.
"To you- but that was all skills," Spider-Man taunted bouncing on his feet.
Spider-Man shifted into a bladed stance—his left shoulder angled forward, chin tucked tight behind it. His right hand hovered low near his ribs, elbow in, while his left forearm rose high, shielding his cheek. A classic Philly shell, built for slipping shots and punishing mistakes. His knees were bent, weight resting on the back leg, heels slightly lifted. He rocked lightly on the balls of his feet, like a coiled spring ready to fire.
"Boxing?" Deathstroke quirked a brow at the wall-crawlers' fighting stance.
"Picked it up in college," Spider-Man quipped. "Figured now's a good time to see if it's any good at putting you flat on your ass."
"You really think some basic moves you got from a hole in a wall boxing gym is enough to put me on my ass?" Deathstroke blood boils- even made worse when he could hear Spider-Man snickering.
"Pretty much, yeah," Spider-Man asserted confidently, bouncing on the balls of his foot while doing so. "And since you can't do anything about it. I'm goin' to tell ya how's it going to go down. I'm going to slip into your guard, square up and blow that mask off your face and I'm going to finish you up with you begging in submission."
"Your arrogance knows no bonds, doesn't it?" Deathstroke raised his guard up. "I'll take pleasure tearin' your head from your body and mounting it on my wall."
"You sound like someone I know, are you two related?"
Spider-Man blitzed forward in his Philly shell guard, slipping low and tight. He caught Deathstroke's piston-like straight punch on his rear palm, rolled the follow-up hook off his shoulder, and squared up. His feet shifted, light and sharp, as he bobbed and weaved beneath the assassin's snapping jabs and sweeping hooks.
Deathstroke, growing more irate by the second, snarled and snatched at the hero's head, yanking him forward to drive his knee into Spider-Man's face.
Spider-Man braced, shielding with his forearms as the knees hammered in. With a grunt, he shoved forward, slamming his shoulder into Deathstroke's chest and pushing off to break the grip.
Deathstroke staggered back, his wheezing breaths were heavier for every forceful action he made to pump air in his lungs. He charged back into the fight. His arm raised for a wild swing an-
BANG!
Deathstroke found himself lying on his back, his mask flailing in the air as it came crashing to the ground.
What happened? Was what was going inside the mind of the deadly assassin as he was on the floor, facing Spider-Man who was standing with his rear fist outstretched in front of him.
Spider-Man had beaten Deathstroke. The moment the villain staggered and started swinging wildly Spider-Man knew he had won. His spider-sense told him so. Spider-Man watched as the overhand Deathstroke threw came towards him at a snail's pace. Before the looping left punch reached the hero Spider-Man had shot his counterpunch like a cannon. A cross, sharp and fast, struck the Villain flat on the bottom of his mask, sending his head snapping to the side and the helmet popping off the villain's head.
That's what happened.
Now Spider-Man stood proud, heaving breaths as he stared down at the pale looking villain.
Deathstroke's eye was frozen wide, his mouth slack, and all the color drained from his wrinkled face. His gray hair was frazzled—part from the fight, part from the blow to his old dome.
"I told you I'd do it," Spider-Man pantsed, still catching his breath.
Deathstroke's one eye locked on him, burning with rage. His fist curled. His jaw clenched tight—probably grinding his teeth down to the gums.
"And there's not a damn thing you can do about it," Spidey added.
That did it.
With a furious roar, Deathstroke lunged. "I'll kill you!"
Spider-Man leaned back from the wild swing, letting the punch whip past his face, then answered with a trio of low kicks hammering the inside of Deathstroke's back leg.
The old assassin's face twisted in pain. He lifted his leg and swung it around in a wide arc, but Spidey dipped back again—cool and fluid—before punishing that same leg with another brutal kick.
Deathstroke's hand hooked down on Spider-Man's nape, his fist cocked to deliver a brutal blow—but Spider-Man wasn't having it. In a flash, he snatched Deathstroke's wrist with the hand closest to it, spinning his body in a tight, controlled motion.
With the villain's momentum fueling him, Spider-Man dropped his center of gravity and threw his shoulder into Deathstroke's chest, locking him in place. One hand tightly gripping Deathstroke's wrist while the other clawing his tricep and in one swift motion, he yanked the assassin off the ground, his muscles coiling as he whipped Deathstroke overhead. The throw was so fast and powerful, it sent the seasoned mercenary crashing to the ground with the force of a freight train.
SLAMMED! The gravel on the roof deck cracked under the brutal force. Spider-Man stood over the crumpled form of Deathstroke, who was gasping for air, still struggling to recover from the impact. But Spider-Man wasn't done. Not even close.
Without hesitation, Spider-Man shifted his position, moving like lightning while Deathstroke remained dazed and vulnerable on the ground. Dropping to his back, Spider-Man hooked his legs around Deathstroke's trapped arm, locking it in place. He twisted and applied pressure, using his whole body to manipulate the joint.
In one smooth, calculated motion, Spider-Man locked in the armbar. The villain's arm wrenched painfully, stretched beyond its natural limit. Deathstroke howled in agony, his face contorting as the pain shot through him.
"Had enough?" Spider-Man taunted, his voice low, cold.
"I-I'll kill you!" Deathstroke sweated through gritted teeth. His single eyes are sharp and focus on Spider-Man's face who bent his head to face him.
Spider-Man was done listening to Deathstroke's threats. The hero's patience had snapped. With a swift, powerful motion, he lifted his leg high—straight as an iron beam—before bringing his heel crashing down onto the villain's face.
The impact was brutal. A sickening crunch echoed through the air as Deathstroke's nose shattered. Spider-Man felt the rush of satisfaction as his enemy's body went slack. The arm that had been struggling against his grip went limp. And just like that, Deathstroke's whole body followed, collapsing in unconsciousness under the weight of the blow.
Spider-Man breathed out wearily as he drop the armbar he was performing. As he coughed out spit and blood from his mouth.
Staggeringly climbing back to his feet, Spider-Man's eyes never left Deathstroke.
His hand holding on to his injured and burnt chest. He continues to regain his breath.
BZZT! BANG!
Spider-Man couldn't even react as something pierced through his back and came flying out his gut. Spider-Man cough out blood as he crumbled to his knees.
Blood poured from the bullet hole in his gut.
"I'm not through with you yet, bug-face!" Spider-Man turned- lying on his back to see Deadshot limping towards him with his rifle held beside his hip.
"This was supposed to be an easy job and you have to come in and ruined everything!" Deadshot barked, firing another shot.
Spider-Man with little adrenaline coursing through his vein was able to avoid the large round by swaying his head to the side but it still grazed him in the neck.
Blood burst from the side of his neck and Spider-Man quickly stop the flow with the palm of his hand.
Deadshot slammed his foot down the hero. The hero cried in pain while still holding his wound.
Deadshot sighted his muzzle down on to Spider-Man's head. His finger teasingly drawing the trigger back.
"Hold still," Deadshot grumbled.
"I t-told you to stay d-down," Spider-Man couldn't resist, he was terrified- yes but at least he could go down joking instead of scared like his previous death.
"I'm going to enjoy blasting your brains into bits," Deadshot cackles like a maniac. "Any last words?"
"B-Behind you—"
"You think I'd fall for that tri—"
WACK!
Batgirl's leg whipped around, slamming into the back of Deadshot's head. The unexpected blow sent him airborne for a second before he crashed down hard on the rooftop, groaning.
He tried to lift his rifle, scrambling to take aim— but Batgirl was faster. She snapped a sharp kick to the weapon, sending it skidding across the gravel before he could fire.
With what little strength she had left, Batgirl cocked her fist behind her head, grit in her teeth, and dropped her full weight down onto Deadshot.
Her knuckles smashed against his skull with a dull crack, bouncing his head off the rooftop like a ball against concrete.
Deadshot was defeated. Limp on the rooftop like his partner Deathstroke.
The heroes had one.
Batgirl groaned in pain as she turned her form until she was flat on her back beside the unconscious Deadshot.
"H-Hey, Spider-Man," Batgirl calls. As she tries to get on her feet.
Her stomach still aching from the wound like her legs and arm.
She rose to her feet, an arm resting on her wounded stomach as she focused on Spider-Man.
The web-slinger was lying on the ground. A hand flat on his bleeding neck. Batgirl limps herself towards him. The spray bottle in her hand. Spraying the healing content on to Spider-Man wounds she started of with the gut. Making sure the bleeding stop and then moved on to the man's neck.
The bottle was now empty.
"Spider-Man- are you still with me?" Batgirl asked weakly.
The hero responded by raising a weak thumbs up before it fell to his side.
Batgirl chuckles. She fell on her rear beside the web-slinger. Batgirl noticed how still he was now.
Worried, she shook him—gentle at first, then firmer. His body moved limp, flaccid in her grasp.
Batgirl's heart climbed into her throat.
With trembling fingers, she reached for the side of his neck, pressing against the carotid.
She held her breath.
There it was. A steady rhythm beneath her fingertips.
She let out a shaky sigh.
He's alive. Just unconscious.
Exhausted, she collapsed beside him, her armor scraping against the gravel. She tapped two fingers to the side of her cowl, activating the communicator.
"Al, it's Batgirl," she muttered, breathless.
A familiar, staticky voice chimed in through the earpiece.
"Master Gordon," Alfred said, calm and warm. "I'm so very glad to hear from you. I was beginning to worry when you went dark. So... how was your little meeting with our mysterious arachnid?"
Batgirl snorted, a dry laugh escaping her lips. "I got my ass kicked."
"That's hardly new," Alfred replied without missing a beat.
"But not by Spider-Man," she said. "That's what he calls himself."
"Hmm. Quite original," Alfred mused. "Tell me—Mister Needham rebranding? 'Spider-Man' lacks the horror and flair of 'Black Spider.'"
"It's not him, Al. It's somebody else."
She coughed, sitting up with a wince. "Hey... can you prep two beds in the med-ward?"
"Most certainly, Barbara," Alfred said. "I'll retrieve you both before Master Wayne arrives."
"You don't have to do that, Al. You've already done enough. I can still dri—"
"Nonsense," Alfred interrupted, firm but kind. "You've done plenty. Rest. I'll be there in a moment."
The line cut.
Batgirl laying her tired head on the rough concrete floor, her body heavy and sore. She stared up at the sky—cloudy, thick, and dark. Her breaths were shallow. Every muscle aches.
This was the part no one talked about. The bruises. The weight. The silence after the storm.
But damn... she missed this feeling.
Maybe being in that chair messed with her head. Maybe she was always a bit of a masochist. But here she was—busted up, sore, bleeding... and smiling like a fool.
The clouds slowly parted, and the moon cut through the darkness. A bright, full moon, casting its pale light on her and the sleeping stranger beside her.
She turned her head toward him.
His chest rose and fell in a calm rhythm now, like he was just... sleeping.
Batgirl shifted closer, her shoulder brushing his.
She rested her head on his side, comforted by the steady beat of life under that torn suit.
She closed her eyes.
Happy to be Batgirl again.
End of this chapter and so far, I kind of love what've done for this. It was a simple scenes filled with fights but it was simple and sweet unlike chapter 1 that took me how many months.
I enjoyed this one a lot. And thank you for the support. Thank you readers for supporting me. To be honest- I'm not actually a writer and more as a reader but I got tired of waiting around for updates so I decided to make my own work. Even if it was out of spite of the current Amazing Spider-Man run- FUCK YOU PAUL! But still I'm glad all of you enjoy this story.
I've read your comments as well and I like to also provide some of my answers and also some additional context of this universe;
First of;
Who is this Spider-Man?
This Spider-Man is a mixture of several forms of Spider-Man media but this is how it is: 50% MCU Spider-Man post Far From Home (Tom Holland), 30% Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, and 10% Spectacular Spider-Man and 10% Spider-Man New Animated Series.
Why? I like Tom Holland's Spider-Man but the writers did a shitty job for me like the Homecoming could've been better but no. I also enjoyed watching clips of the Friendly Neighborhood series but I got really sick of Peter Parker's dorkiness, lower that shit man, but my top favorite is always Spectacular Spider-Man, his sense of humor, his wit, is battle IQ, he was the perfect Spider-Man for me and why Spider-Man New Animated Series to also include the edginess I remembered from the series.
2. Second of: how far is this MCU and what is considered canon
This is post Far From Home Spider-Man from the MCU but the series hasn't happened;
She-Hulk does not exist
I'm rewriting Falcone and Winter Soldier's plot in this
WandaVision does not exist and Wanda's arch is a whole different ball game which would introduce her father to the MCU.
Secret Invasion will have a different plot that would introduce Richard Parker and the Chameleon
Agatha All Along won't exist
Ant-Man Quantumania won't exist
Thor Love and Thunder won't exist
The Eternals doesn't exist
Ms Marvel doesn't exist
The Marvels does not fucking exist
Black Panther Wakanda Forever rewrite
T'challa still lives as the king
Guardian of the Galaxy vol. 3 exist
Shang-Chi exist
The Defenders exist
Captain America Brave New World rewrite
Kate Bishop exist
Daredevil Born Again exist
Loki exist probably
Thunderbolts exist
Moon Knight exist
Doctor Strange and the Multiverse of Madness exist but under a different plot removing American Chavez maybe- I'm not sure with this.
Kraven the Hunter exist but different plot
Morbius exist with the same plot
Avengers and the Kang Dynasty will continue with a different plot
Fantastic Four exist
Avengers Doomsday exist after Kang Dynasty
Return of Tony Stark…
And I'm not sure about the rest so if you have any ideas pm or drop in the comments.
3. How old is Spider-Man?
Spider-Man is college age but I'm bouncing between 20-23, Why?
Because Peter would be 21 in the year 2027 and why 2027 because that is the year for Thunderbolts, Daredevil Born Again, and Captain America Brave New World would be set in. Why is this important so it could connect with my original idea New Avengers program under the command of Thaddeus Ross. Where Spider-Man is forced to be a member of the group which consist of US Agent, Red Hulk, Black Widow (Yelena Belova), Kate Bishop, and Luna Snow.
And Yes, 2 vanguards, 3 duelists, and 1 strategist does not sound like a good comp until I find a change of characters. Maybe turning Kate Bishop as a strategist instead.
But anyways that's why Spider-Man's age is in college years. Mostly staying close to early 20s as in 21 years old.
Villains that Spider-Man had faced would be;
Doc Ock
Sandman
Electro
Morbius
Kraven
Hydro Man
Shocker
Molten Man
Kingpin
Hammerhead
And many more of his universe with
Venom as a being from the multiverse
All in a rough freshman year of college with Kingpin the finally.
Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man villain that also show up are;
Tarantula
Speed Demon
Scorpion (a mix of both MCU and Friendly Neighborhood version)
Butane
Tombstone
And I think I got all of that one next up
4. Kryn Womble: The inspiration of Spider-Man
This one mostly for Kryn Womble and I like to be clear on this one. This spider-Man is not inspired by the ps4 and ps5 version. Unlike his video game counterpart my spider-man's combat prowess is not based on any of the marvel or DC media. Instead he was created from a japanese movie and series called High & Low. His fighting style is based on these key figures; Smoky, Muruyama, Hyuga, and Cobra.
Why did I choose japanese characters: Look it up, the movie is cool but watch High & Low: Story of the SWORD before moving on to the movie. Or don't. It's on Netflix I think- the movie.
Next is the question; Is this Venom- No, Spider-Man has not met venom yet but will soon do. Spider-Man is wearing a crafted black suit he made by himself. Hasn't met Black Cat and just got the inspiration from his stint as Night Monkey.
What type of Spider-Man is this; This Spider-Man would be the default version with specialized web shooters that allows him to weave different strands of web for his use. A more agile and technical brawler that uses more of his wits to defeat his enemy to avoid using a lot of his powers.
5. Is this story only placed in Gotham?
No- this would be placed in the DC universe
6. What universe in DC?
That is a difficult for me to choose because I'm not fluent in the DC universe, comics and other form of media. But here are those aim basing it in.
Batman The Animated Series 1994
Superman The Animated Series 1996
Batman The New Adventures 1997
The Tomorrowverse I guess
Teen Titans
My Adventures With Superman
Justice League Unlimited
The DC animated movie universes
The DC comics
Remember I'm not so sure about this so I might mess it up but I need a lot of research for this story
7. Is this a harem story and who are the pairings:
Yes, I'd made my conclusion and decided to make a harem story. And who are the pairings, you just have to wait and see but I will tell you this. There are two from the Marvel Universe I will add in. Are they in the MCU- well I made them to be.
8. Does Spider-Man have extra powers beside his spider-powers
Yes and no, if you considered the whole tantric and chaos powers as a spider-power but my Spider-Man will sort of have a power up. I'm not sure if it's considered a power up.
9. And the most important question of all: Who is PAUL and what did he do to you?
He existed that what he fucking did. If you don't then don't we got some well cultured Spider-Man fans here that can fill you in because I won't even explain the bastard's existence- just use him like a slur. As the famous Kendrick Lamar had stated- I'm biggest hater of Paul- I hate the way he walks, I hate the way he talks, how he looks and his existence. I would gladly go and give Paul or any of the Spider-Man writers the Harvey Oswald or the King Von experience. Fuck 'em.
Anyways I believe I covered everything and I hope to see you all again. Enjoy the story and see you in the next chapter.
FUCK YOU PAUL!