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Chapter Text

"Listen, Dr. Richards-"

"You can call me Reed."

"Mr. Fantastic."

Peter had never been good with calling people by their first names, it was even harder when that 'people' was someone who was significantly cooler than he was. 

"Look- Mr. Fantastic," Spider-Man continued "I haven't even shared my secret identity with you, it just doesn't feel right to me to call you 'Reed'" 

Mr. Fantastic sighed as Spider-Man spoke, it didn't matter right now, he'd try again later to get the Meta-Human to stay and eat something substantial for dinner, but he knew it was highly unlikely. But for now, he would thank him for his help on his most recent machine-

 

It was supposed to be something to help him travel across the multiverse- they'd sent Galactus through a portal and according to the Human Torch and Silver Surfer, he was the only one in existence- which meant some other poor universe would have to deal with the world eating destroyer and friends. 

"Did you make sure that the Pym Particles are placed in their proper canisters- and gave each of the generators a coolant?" Spider-Man asked, shifting his body to hang over the machine with a strain of spider silk. 

"Yeah, Ben helped me with that, he installed some kind of stabilizer too, I'd have to check the notes to see what kind specifically though." Reed notes, flipping through notes on a clipboard as Spider-Man landed on the machine. "Be careful with that, touch it wrong and you might end up at Knowhere."

"I'm careful, you're not the only one with a doctorates in Physics, Mr. Fantastic."

"I know, Dr. Spider-Man." Reed retorted, watching the lenses on Spider-Man's costume squint and shift with soft mechanical whirs. "What? Don't like it?"

"I don't know..." Spider-Man hummed, jumping off the machine as he opened one of the panels "what is the issue anyways? This looks like it has the Richards seal of approval- it should be running fine."

"the power source isn't efficient enough- even with an arc reactor there is so much heat escaping the machine-"

"that anyone inside turns into fried spider." Spider-Man finished, nodding to himself as he looked at the clipboard Mr. Fantastic was looking over, "Maybe we make part of the coolant a vacuum. Like what they do for those fancy water bottles." he suggests, waiting for Reed's answer as he thought. 

"No, I don't think that would work. We'd just create a pop can. I would prefer to keep explosives out of my lab- I was thinking we exchanged the copper wire for gold since it has better insulation and transfers electricity better." Reed thought again, this time longer, while Spider-Man filled the space with a squinting stare.

"This seems like the kind of questions you should be asking the other Spider-Man..." Spider-Man comments "Kid-Arachnid, Spider-Kid, etcetera." 

"Does 'Kid Arachnid' have a degree in Physics?"

"No, but he does have a built in taser." Reed shook his head dismissively "Come on, Doc. He's got what it takes, and he's just as smart as the original. How about this-" Spider-Man starts, looking back at the machine "Why don't we get it running so we can run a diagnostic, that way I can work on this while stuffing my face with Invisible Woman's cooking. I can smell her making something that makes me hungry- besides, you owe me lunch from that one time."

"That 'One Time'?" Reed asks with a laugh "okay, fine, lets get it running and then we can go and see what Sue is making." Reed was quite happy with this outcome, there was more than one time he'd spotted Spider-Man hiding under a bus stop with a hot dog in hand on a rainy day. He felt bad that he didn't have any place to go- or at least he didn't think he had any place to go. 

 

Mr. Fantastic walked towards a control panel, pressing buttons, pulling levers and inputting data as Spider-Man hung over it, observing it.

 

"Hey Reed?" Spider-Man asks, looking up at the doctor.

 

"Yeah?"

"Is it supposed to be making bubbles?"

 

Before Reed was able to respond, Spider-Man was gone in a flash of light and tiny black dots forming along the edges of the machine.

"Oh shit, I vaporized Spider-Man!"

 

 

Chapter Text

Spider-Man felt hot- like really hot- and it wasn't in the pleasant warm summers day type of way- more like the type of way that made him into Spider-Barbecue. Peter got up, but the heat vanished as quickly as it came, his breaths going quickly as he blinked- hard. Looking up and around as soon as he was able to see. The hot air slowly turned cold, nearly freezing, the shock hitting him hard as he shivered.

"F-first a spider corn dog- now a spider popsicle?" he whispered, rubbing his arms through the blue and red suit, maybe he could find some place warm- but first he had to find out where he was and how he got here.

Well, the how would be easy, the how was Mr. Not-so-Fantastic somehow managed to warp him (hopefully not) through dimensions into someplace that was cold, damp, and all around unpleasant. Perfect for a real spider- which he supposed he was enough parts spider to enjoy some of the darkness. Peter continued to look around as mechanical lenses in his suit shifted, the robotic and computer parts scanning his surroundings and identifying things the best it could- person, bus, lamppost, text (fortunately in english). But unfortunately the computer system was all out of whack, and it was entirely unable to identify any part of this city- or its global position. So he had to assume he was in some sort of inverted Manhattan (since thats where the Baxter building happened to be, 42nd Street and Madison Avenue-  to be more precise). Which meant he was probably still in New York, maybe, hopefully. 

Pete tried to compose himself, shooting duo webs towards a lamp post as he lands on it, people around him seeming... uneasy. Scared- fair enough. He'd be scared too if some guy randomly landed in their city in the middle of the night dressed like some sort of crazy circus performer. "Map- map map." he muttered to himself, more webbing thwipping from his wrists as he launched himself onto a nearby building, launching himself using the momentum by doing some sort of sped up hand spring, flinging himself across the buildings with grace and strength. He landed on a billboard- one that said Star Labs. A place he had never heard of before in New York- so perhaps he wasn't there, or maybe in this inverted world it was normal, it was some place that everyone knew? He was confused beyond belief, disoriented- which was never any good and he remembered just how hungry he was. He sighed, finding his phone quietly as he pried the case off of it, fishing out the fifty he normally kept.

"If they don't accept a fifty as legal tender- I'm royally screwed." Spidey muttered absently, normally at this time there was at least one place open- but to his dismay there was no where, he'd have to go hungry until morning. He searched down the streets, swinging and searching. Some people screaming bloody murder at him as he passed- everyone here was so rude! He spent at least an hour searching before he tucked the money back into his suit collar, sighing as his phone died, and perched back on that first lamp post. His head hurt too- nearly the entire time, he assumed it was his spider sense adjusting to the world around him- because there was no possible way that every single thing here was dangerous or had some sort of 'danger' to it. Lost in his thoughts he started to pick at his wrists, just listening. If he couldn't get food until morning, he should sleep- but he didn't feel like he could. He frightened these people, quite a lot too. So he didn't want to risk making them feel even more unsafe by making a web hammock between two buildings. 

He grew more frustrated as he went on, but then a sharp spike in the back of his skull shouted at him to move.

So he did, planting his hand into the lamp post quickly as he flipped into the air, a sharp scrap of metal whizzing past him and slamming into the ground behind him as he turned to face whoever had the audacity to throw something at him so rudely!

"I guess you pay more attention than i give you credit for." A shadowed figure said, Peter squinting to make it out- cape, check, strange cowl- check, boots, funky yellow symbol? Oh yeah, Spider-Man knew who this was.

"Listen, Steven, I know I'm normally on your bad side- but throwing things at me when I'm trying to take a nap is a new low!" The cowled man didn't think it was funny, but until corrected, Peter would continue to call him 'Moon Knight/Steven'. "Do I need to web you to the side of the Empire State building again by your cape to make sure you stop trying to have beef with me? It was one time I said the moon couldn't be talking to you! I said I was SORRY." Spidey jumped up, flicking webbing at the man- but he seemed at the very least prepared, holding his arm up and letting the two strands hit his arm- skillfully cutting them with another shard of metal before Spider-Man could pull them slack and knock him over. "You've been getting more cautious- and quiet- Is this Mark im talking to?" he said with a somewhat cheery voice as he landed sideways on a window, hearing the glass creak underneath his feet. 

The glass here is weak, thats good to know- I'm not trying to interrupt anyones beauty sleep tonight... Peter got lost in his trail of thoughts again- but only for a minute as what looked like a grappling hook hit the wall he was standing on, breaking the glass loudly as the man pulled himself towards Spider-Man- but what the man was not prepared for was for Spider-Man to run onto the wire and kick it, changing the direction of his momentum from being towards the web slinger, to towards the wall. Since we were breaking walls tonight- Peter would much rather have it be on his own terms. "Mark, come on- we talked about this. You can't just-" another scrap metal, this time it nicked along his skin as he dodged, wincing as blood started to leech into the blue portions of his costume "come on man- I just got this repaired, if thats how its going to be- prepare for the beating of a lifetime pal!" Spider-Man shot a web at the mans chest, pulling as quickly as he could, launching himself towards him and hitting him square in the chest with one foot. Not enough to break any bones- but it was enough to crack the wall behind him again (though Peter was unsure of just how difficult that was to do since the glass seemed less like a nice feature and more like a hazard). 

Webbing left his web shooters again, sticking the man's arm to the wall as he started to hang, a growl escaping him "Who the hell do you work for-" he snarls, planting his feet as he tore his arm off the wall- well. Sorta. The wall just came with him- since the tensile strength of the webbing was a bit to strong for it to let go, leading peter to getting a face full of concrete as he swung. Both humiliating Spider-Man, and freeing the Moon Knight doppelgänger. 

"I'm freelance, Moon child." he jokes, before he got squared in the jaw once more, wincing at the force. Most of his villains, veto a few, were skinny doctors who had a vendetta against each other (Mysterio, Green Goblin, Doctor Octopus, Jackal, Hobgoblin, Vulture), but there were a select few that were just straight up strength brutes (Kraven, Rhino, etc), but this guy seemed like some kind of mix between the two. He was strong- stronger than your average human- but it didn't seem unnatural. Just trained, really well trained. But not stupid, considering Spider-Man was getting his ass handed to him right now. Probably due to the fact that he wasn't focusing as much as he should be.

“If- You- would- stop- hitting- me-“ Spider-Man started to speak, wincing at each punch, eventually placing his hands in front of his currently beaten in face “maybe I could tell you something.” He twisted his body backwards, leaning as he kicked ‘Moon Knight’ with his legs, standing up and stretching his back out as the man recovered quickly. “I can tie you to a building again, but please note I’m going easy on you.” He growls as he flings another web, launching towards him and landing a good punch to his jaw, then a kick, the two of them blocking and landing hits until Spider-Man got the other exactly where he wanted him- jumping up and behind him, arching his back as he webbed the others shoulders, throwing him in an arc off the ground and into the concrete below. Before he could get up, he webbed him down- not bothering to attempt to call the police as he swung away. He’d rather be done with the fight instead of wait for whoever decided to attack him to figure out how to get out of his webbing and track him down again.

But there was one thing he would admit- that man was definitely not Moon Knight.

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“He threw you?” Dick asked, nearly laughing as Bruce placed some of the webbing into a plastic bag using tweezers “Like, actually threw you. Like a football?”

“Nightwing, please contain your fanboying excitement, he is the enemy.” Batman scowled, “it wasn’t like he actually won either, he just pinned me down and left. He had no interest in me. He wasn’t even paying attention- which is the part that I’m actually ticked off about.”
“So you’re telling me, a skinny guy in spandex and spider webs managed to pin you down for a long enough time to leave.” Nightwing couldn’t contain his laughter- the best part was that Batman hadn’t been severely hurt either. Just a couple of well placed bruises to his chest and arms. “When was the last time that happened? With Red Hood? Or was it Flash?” Nightwing continued to berate, earning himself a well placed (and deserved) punch to the arm. It didn’t hurt, but Dick dramatically shifted either way.

“Nightwing, knock it off.” he growls “this is serious, what if he’s dangerous?” But even Batman had to admit, this guy probably wasn’t looking for trouble if he continued to call out names and cracking jokes during the fight.

“What, you’re scared he’s going to eat some flies and do a backflip?” Nightwing asks, looking down at the vaguely Batman shaped dent in the concrete “He must have been strong to be able to throw you. Normally ‘strong’ and ‘skinny’ don’t go together either. We can look at the footage when we get back to the Bat-Cave.”

“We?” Bruce asked, holding up a grappling hook as Dick did the same, not waiting for an answer. He didn’t want to fight it, but if Dick had the time to come by the Batcave for an acrobatic crayon-web-man, then he wasn’t going to bother with the details. He sighs, looking at the webbing he had “Do you think this stuff comes out of him?”

“Maybe, there’s a chance,” Dick shrugs, taking the bag from Batman as he looked over it “Reminds me of spiderwebs, is he some sort of creepy crawler?” Nightiwng handed the bag back, looking at the exposed webbing on the ground, “It looks like it dissolves, so if you want to look at it better, you’ll have to be quick, come on.”

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Back at the Bat cave, Batman was looking over the webbing, seeing that it was in fact an organic material, confirming his suspicions of this star spangled man being some form of Meta-Human. He had strength, webbing, and it appeared that he could stick to walls like a bug. Or a Spider… Bruce hummed, earning the attention of Dick, who was walking on one of the railing precariously;

“So? What does the Batman see?” He asks, not moving off of the railing, practicing his balance lazily, looking up at the computer when Bruce only grumbled under his breath, “What?” Dick asks, “Are you still mad he beat you?” Nightwing chuckled, flipping off of the railing and walking over to him with a spring in his step “Signal said he saw him near one of the train stations eating a hot dog.” Nightwing said “you can have him bring him in.”
“No, he doesn’t seem like a threat, I was foolish to try and attack him. I didn’t expect him to move how he did.” Batman muttered, pulling his cowl over his head “Signal would just scare him off- or make him think that we are attacking him for the fun of it. I’d rather not get on his bad side considering he didn’t hurt anyone but me… but I’m curious about the get up.”
“the red and blue? Maybe he works for Superman, you could call him you know.” Dick suggests, “unless you’re on bad terms again somehow.” Dick chuckled, crossing his arms and looking up at the ‘murder board’ Bruce had to together on the bug-like man. Nightwing was only met with another grumbling noise, but then Bruce started to type, mostly information, math. Lots of it.

“He swings, like how we do, but nearly constantly.” Bruce points out, Nightwing nodding. He knew where this was going- It was showing just how strong the new stranger was, swinging back and forth with ease- like a trapeze performer. He could swing around quite a bit- and definitely for a longer period of time than Batman, but it wasn’t nearly as long, or with as much whiplash and speed as the other man. If he had tried to swing around like him, he probably would dislocate a shoulder or snap his spine around in a way that was less than ideal. He wasn’t sure why he traveled like this either, wouldn’t it be easier to just make a bike? But he supposed he didn’t know his motivation either, maybe he did it like that because he actually enjoyed it. “He’s also flexible.” Batman mutters, Nightwing had zoned out thinking about the other man, he was right, he saw how he flipped around Batman with the grace of a dancer- Dick was almost jealous of the strength and flexibility he had. It was an intense amount, it threw him off when he saw the footage.
“I think he is supposed to be a spider.” Dick points out, “Spiders don’t have bones.” He lifted a gloved hand up towards one of the shots, showing the spider insignia that stretched out across his back and chest “Spiderman?” Dick suggested, chuckling to himself. It was basic, yeah. But it matched, it didn’t explain the bright colors however,  aren’t spiders meant to be sneaky? You know who it reminded him of?
“Black spider.” Batman growled, but he paused, no. Black spider was a killer, and he was definitely not as tall or strong as this so called Spiderman, Spiderman was lean. He was strong, Black spider didn’t sit how Spiderman did either. Crouched low, tense, like he was always ready. Black spider was calm, cocky almost. But they did both have webs, Spiderman’s came from his wrists, while Black spider had a machine that manufactured red-ish webbing that came from his arms. The difference between organic and synthetic. No this wasn’t Black spider. Black spider would’ve lost. Bruce was more upset that it wasn’t his first thought after seeing him swing around- but Black spider didn’t do much swinging either way. They did have similar insignia and mannerisms however, there could be a connection. Related perhaps?
“Lost again?” Nightwing shook him gently “Alfred says that dinner is ready, we should go and eat before we burn ourselves out.” Bruce sighed at the suggestion, leaving his cowl behind as he followed Dick upstairs.

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Gotham.

Peter Parker was in Gotham city, New Jersey. No wonder this place was so dank, and sad, and everyone hated everyone. Peter had managed to get himself a newspaper, then another. There were quite a few, he had a collection of about ten of those 25 cent newspapers, it got him some change, enough to get a trio of hot dogs and an idea of what was going on. The man that had so rudely attacked him the night before had a name Batman (no hyphen? Seriously this guy is literally just a bat?), but he digressed. It looked like Batman had mistaken Spidey for one of his villains, considering a lot of them dressed up in bright colors and galavanted around the city like they owned the place. So that was good information, Batman wasn’t trying to hurt him

well, he was, but he could tell that he was holding back against an unfamiliar face- which honestly hurt. He deserved the same treatment as everyone else!

that’s what he thought before he saw how he left his villains. Sure, he beat up shocker and vulture pretty bad some times, but usually he didn’t leave them paralyzed or with their entire face broken. Parker focused more on getting them to surrender or just pinning them down- sometimes even resorting to knocking them out- but he didn’t get nearly as brutal. These villains were scared too, so scared that even the mention of his name was taboo from what he could read. It seemed like Batman had recently taken down a larger villain known as the ‘Penguin’, it was good to hear that they both had a lot of animal themed villains, it reminded him of home. But some of the jewels and diamonds that had been stolen were still missing, score! Spider-Man took another bite of his hotdog, flipping the page to see the black and white photo of Penguin being taken away in chains, humming to himself as he finished the second hotdog he had bought. Maybe he could show this ‘Batman’ that he wasn’t a threat- and that he could help him. But first, there were smoother things he needed to settle, money. How to get it. He didn’t have any information based on the universe he had just came from- which meant that to everyone here ‘Peter Parker’ and ‘Spider-Man’ didn’t exist, at all. No birth certificate, no social security number, nada. He didn’t even have a drivers license since he swung everywhere- or he rode the bus, bike, or subway. It was cheaper than the maintenance of a car and car insurance. He could try and just do odd jobs? Sell photos to the Gotham Gazette? Though it didn’t look like they needed it, from what he saw, the photos were pretty good. But you know what he could get them? Up close shots. A lot of these photos were of objects, or photos of the villains after they’d already been captured, safe- sure. But it didn’t give editors the action they wanted. So first things first, with the remaining… $35.5. He couldn’t get a camera for that much, not even a cheap crappy one. Unless he went to his favorite place- Gotham had to have one. A second-hand store. People always donated old cameras that never got used anymore- and if he could find a polaroid for cheap- or one of those digital cameras, he was sure he could get some good photos to sell.

That settled it! Parker shoved the last hot dog into his mouth, jumping out from under the train station and starting to look for a thrift store- it would be hard without any sort of map. Or an idea of where he was going, but he was sure he could ask around. He landed near a crowed of people, waving as he announced himself “Hey! Does anyone-“ but he didn’t even get to finish his sentence before people were running- not just away from him, but with genuine fear- okay. No more of that- maybe he should see if he could find some cheap clothes? But again, he had no idea where a thrift store was, he couldn’t even change to look less threatening, it was back to the drawing board then. Peter launched himself back onto the roof of a building, sighing, he felt a bit more depressed than he would’ve liked, sitting on the ledge of the building as he reminisced of the ‘good ol’ times’. The times with his family, May, Ben. The Fantastic Four, Avengers. Even if he did most of his work solo- he missed them. Deadpool, Daredevil. Daredevil would have done so much better here. Dark, broody and dangerous was more up his alley. He started to swing his legs to keep his cold blood moving, he could do this- right?
yeah, he could do this! He never had help when he broke his back, or when he was fighting the sinister six or any other time he was beat down with a broken bone.

The Spider underestimates himself

“I know.” Peter mutters, crossing his arms. Maybe he could find his own way home- he saw that advert for Star Labs, maybe he could find a way to make it there and explain himself.

“Hey I’m from a different universe and I really need help getting home, can you make an inter dimensional portal for me maybe?”

No that would never work, no one would believe him. He shifts forward, getting ready to jump of the building and keep swinging when he feels his collar get grabbed by a thick gloved hand, great. Another fight to deal with “If you could let go of me that would be fantastic.” Spider-Man jested, turning back to look at who grabbed him.

“No can do, I’m not letting you go splat, not in that outfit.” The man said back, pulling him back onto the roof of the building. Parker got a better look of the man, he was one to talk! At least his costume wasn’t bright neon yellow with cat ears! But Spider-Man thought for a minute- no, not cat ears, bat ears. Like Batman. But his eyes could be deceiving him, sure he had other costumes, but he normally didn’t change skin colors too, so this was definitely a new person. “You gonna say something kid?”
“woah woah woah-“ Spider-Man shifted away from the other’s grip, waving his hands up “first of all, I wasn’t jumping to eat dirt. Second of all I’m not a kid, and Thirdly, you cannot be judging my costume if you’re the one who looks like a flashlight.” Spider-Man points out, gesturing to the neon hellfire that was Not-Batman’s costume.

“It’s supposed to be bright.” The man scoffs, “and if you weren’t going to kick the bucket, why are you all the way up here, alone?” He hums, tapping his foot impatiently.

“I just wanted a better view, it’s hard to breathe down there and I’d rather be away from the smell of rotting fish and half smoked cigars.” The eyes on his mask crinkled into a disappointed looking scowl. “I swing, I guess you weren’t around last night when Batman got mad at me for hanging out.”
“hm, yeah, he probably thought you were one of Joker’s goons.” Spider-Man had read about joker, he had escaped prison a while ago, or an asylum. Who puts their villains in asylums unless theyre- ohhh. Yeah he walked right into that one, deserved. Slap yourself on the wrist spider, youre so smart.

We should eat this guy.

“Joker, the paint my face white and pretend to be some sort of circus clown Joker?” Spider-Man asks, but the other hero (he hoped) didn’t look amused;

“Yeah, that one. A lot of his goons wear bright colors and strut around like they own the place- but I did hear that you pinned the bat down and didn’t bother taking him anyplace… So I assume you are either a very bad villain, or a very stupid civilian.”
“Civilian? Please, Batman is anything but Civil. I was just hanging around (haha, get it?), and he decides it’s fine to start slinging scrap metal at me and throwing punches like he owns the place. Honestly he’s not exactly making me feel safe if he’s supposed to be a hero.”

“I’m sure Red Hood would love to hear you say that to his face- Listen, Batman isn’t someone you want to be on the bad side of- you got lucky last night. Now that he knows you- or at least how some more information on you, that means he is going to be cracking down even harder on you. He isn’t a fan of clowns.”

“Fine, who do I thank in my memoir for this life advice?” Spider-Man held up an invisible microphone for the man, hopefully preparing himself for an answer, his mask crinkling into amore happy expression with his eyes leaning upwards.

This earned a sigh from the man, who crossed his arms and replied with: “Signal.” Signal.

Signal? Not Batkid, or yellow-Man, or wherever? “Signal.”

“Yep.”
“Like, a turning signal?”
“what? No,” Signal growls, “Like- the Bat signal or something, I don’t know man, Batman gave me this costume. I just went with the name. Don’t be judging- I’m sure your name is just as confusing.”
“Spider-Man.”
“What? Spiderman?”
“No, it’s Spider-Man.” He corrects, exasperated.
“That’s what I said, Spiderman.”
“No you gotta say it with the Hyphen.”

“What?” Signal said, flabbergasted, “Man what do you mean with the Hyphen?”

“You need to say my name with the Hyphen, Spider, Hyphen, Man. Spider-Man.”

“How do I say it without the Hyphen?” Sign asks, confused, it wasn’t like the words he was saying were text.

“You gotta pause, Spiderman makes me sound like a spider who is a man, but Spider-Man makes it sound like I’m a man with spider powers.”
“man this shit is stupid.” Signal scoffs, “whatever Spider-Man.”

“Yes, perfect. Just like that, now go, spread it like wildfire.” Spider-Man joked, only for his shoulder to be grabbed again “I assume this means you can’t just ‘let me go’ and I have to go and meet the ‘holy naming council’?” Spider-Man asks, earning a look of desperation, a look that said why am I the one dealing with this crap?

“Batman wants to talk to you.” Signal said simply, “so you can come with me willingly, or we can do this the hard way. The way where I beat you up and drag you there myself.”

“I pick the hard way- but you’ll have to catch me first!”

Chapter Text

"catch you? But I already go-" Signal was interrupted by a foot to the face, forcing him to let go of Spider-Man and knocking him back a decent distance- before he could really get up Spider-Man was already diving down the building, lifting his arm to swing. Signal didn't expect it, though he should've, a man named Spider-Man must be flexible. Signal growled under his breath as he jumped down to follow him. He was easy to spot, thanks to his meta- abilities and the fact that Spider-Man wore two of the three primary colors, making him stick out like a sore thumb against the grimy and dull buildings that was Gotham city.

"So- Signal!" Spider-Man calls, twisting his body for a moment to look backwards, "Is this what you thought you'd be doing today?!" He shouts again, Signal was following half sluggishly behind, running along the tops of buildings and using a grappling hook to propel himself across larger gaps or around buildings that would take too long to climb. Spider-Man would be lying if he didn't think this was fun. Most of his villains didn't bother chasing him if they weren't fast or they couldn't fly (Like Rhino, Shocker and Scorpion for example, they spent a lofty amount of their time robbing places. Spider-Man chased them more than they chased Spider-Man)

Signal didn’t bother with replying to him with any words, only growling in frustration as Spider-Man toyed with him, Signal was used to low level street thugs, not runners that could cover miles of distance in just a couple of swings. Joker goons, Penguin goons, the whole lot of them didn’t bother running- they hid.

But this Spider-Guy? He was fast and Signal knew he wouldn’t be able to catch up- so that’s when he stopped, considering he wouldn’t get close enough to talk. So instead, he called for back up.

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Private Channel- Justice League Satellite- B47-CH97

SIGNAL: I found the Spider-Man, but he’s fast. I can’t catch him. I can track him but he’s moving too fast for me to catch up.

ORACLE: I think Dick and Tim are in your area doing hand to hand Training, do you need them for support? Is he dangerous at all?

SIGNAL: Dangerous- NO, fast- Hell yes. He covered half of One Gotham Center in like- two minutes. He swings fast, Man.

ORACLE: Dick?

NIGHTWING: I’m on it, Tim needs the speed training either way, he won’t use deadly force then, Signal?

SIGNAL : Negative, Nightwing, he was just trying to get away. Bring a taser- we can try and cramp his muscles so he has to stop swinging. I can see him through the buildings crossing towards Wayne Tower.

ORACLE : Wayne Tower? Maybe we won’t need you Nightwing, Standby.

ORACLE: I can activate the security measures on Wayne Tower as long as Batman Approves it, it should be able to Stun the Spiderman for around four minutes. Nightwing and Tim are closer, Signal you start heading over as backup

NIGHTWING: works for me, o7

SIGNAL: Be careful, he has like some kind of sixth sense

BATMAN: I can approve the security measures, just get Spiderman in our custody.

SIGNAL: Spider-Man, there’s a hyphen- it’s this whole thing.

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Spider-Man didn’t stop swinging even after he lost Signal, he had to get some ground between himself and Signal, not in the mood to stop and eventually get captured when he thought he was safe. He had fallen for that Hoax more than once and he wasn’t going to be naive in a place like Gotham. It seemed like the opposite of New York, or at least more cruel. No one here helped each other, no one here trusted each other. He had been screamed at more than once becasuse of his appearance. But it wasn’t like he could change, he was a bit tight on money- money he wasn’t sure was actual legal tender due to the fact that he was from another dimension. He was worried that he had been giving people so called 'fake' money on accident, so as he swung and thought- he thought of ways to earn some actually money that he knew would be useful here. He also had been keeping track of all the villains that were around, giving them his own fun little nicknames to help him remember;

There was Killer Croc (The Lizard, or Dr. Curt Connors), a big ugly, well, Croc. One with massive jaws, the ability to swim, punch and swing. 

The Penguin (King Pin, or Wilson Fisk) A guy who was on the smaller side, but he did have a large company and a lot of money. So he assumed he was a gangster or a leader of something similar.

The Joker, this guy, this guy was someone he didn't have a comparison off the top of his head for. He was crazy- like really crazy. He belonged in some kind of home with pudding and a straightjacket. He had tried to 'make the city smile' more than once with some sort of Joker Gas- if this guy was smart enough to make a deadly/permanent Hallucinogenic then maybe he wasn't so crazy after all- maybe he was just... odd. He wasn't sure, he would have to meet this guy for himself. He did have a similar flair to the lesser Villain Screwball, but he decided to give Joker's little girl toy Harley Quinn that title since they had similar demeanors from what he had read. Cooky, crazy about someone (in this case Joker instead of Spidey himself.) but the main difference was that Screwball usually wasn't deadly. She was just trying to get attention or make a jab, even if sometimes she did it in dangerous ways. 

The Red Hood, if he was being honest, the only person he could think of comparing this guy to was Taskmaster. A quiet, collected guy who focused on what he wanted. He wasn't sure he was even a criminal, this guy had less breaking news stories on him than Batman, though that technically wasn't saying much, anytime Batman was mentioned beating one of these villains, they never really talked about Batman in the first place. It was usually how badly he beat his villains- which moved them onto the next mention-

Scarecrow (Quentin Beck, AKA Mysterio.) While Mysterio and Scarecrow had similar reactions, their means were very different. Scarecrow has chemicals, usually considered a minor villain- while Mysterio uses illusions and tech to counter and create his own false Hallucinations. Both options were something Spider-Man knew not to mess with them either way if he wanted to keep himself from breaking down.

There were also more minor mentions of Catwoman (Felicia Keys, or Black Cat), Bane (Aleksei Sytsevich Rhino), Deathstroke (Kraven the hunter?), Dr. Hugo Strange (Dr. Otto Octavius, Dr. Octopus), and many more he didn't have the time to assign partners for evil villain class. Money, right. Get back on track, Spidey...
We could always steal...

The little evil voice in his head whispered to him once more. Peter sighed, he wasn't in the mood to deal with this right now. He thought he had gotten rid of this thing, but he supposed not. The screaming, the tearing at his costume while Miles Morales helped him. None of it did anything? The Mr. Negative particles, or whatever they had decided to call this... Anti-Venom,  had started to wear off over the months, they'd been searching for something to help it get more tame and less irritable, but it had been put on the back burner ever since he and MJ had broken up- again. It turns out your girlfriend doesn't want to date you when you have a evil alien living inside of you- one that turned her into a monster that had said some not so nice things about him- which he later learned was because the Symbiote didn't actually create feelings, it only enhances them. Which is what he was told by Dr. Connors while getting a checkup as Spider-Man, one thing lead to another and she paused her moving out- and ended up writing more posts for the Daily B(oo)ugle dumping on the Spider-Men as heroes. He wished that she would've at least kept Miles out of it, but there were small victories. Whatever treatment that Mr. Osborn had been cooking up for Harry seemed to be doing wonders. It was no where near as effective as Venom, but he could walk without a cane and hold his own when shooting hoops. So at least he had his best friend- one who had no more hard feelings at that too! Everything (mostly) was turning up Spidey! He even got asked by Human Torch to help out his brother in law, Dr. Reed Richards- one of the countries most renowned Physicists with a project. Apparently he was impressive with his work collecting tiny spider-robots around the city- he was going to figure out who this 'Miguel' Character was.

"You might actually have a point this time." Spider-Man mutters under his breath as he swings to a stop, shifting to hang under a dramatic Gargoyle statue that was meticulously carved against the post of a church, he felt like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. But right now he was cold- very cold. It was starting to rain and there was one very important thing- He couldn't Thermo Coagulate-

Pause. Science lesson for all the little spider-friends.

There is something being able to thermoregulate- its a funny little term for animals, but animals like Lizards, snakes- and you guessed it, Spiders. Can't. It means one very important thing: Spider-Man does whatever a spider can- this includes a few things that a spider can't do. Which is control his own body heat. Its fine and dandy when you're in sunny New York where he always knows where a heat vent is or where he can grab some food to burn, but here? Here he was a sitting duck, his precious body heat being sapped away by the damp waterline city air. He had to find heat and he had to find it fast, a good way to do that was to keep moving. But moving without thinking wasn't something he was keen on either, so looking for a vent with his eyes was what he did, something hot. Maybe he could stand next to a A/C unit that was getting rid of heat to cool someplace inside? Or maybe a smokestack at a power plant- those sometimes had steam. Steam wasn't the worst as long as the water wasn't toxic. Even a blanket or some old coat would be better than whatever he has going on right now. 

He did spot something he thought to be promising, so he started to move his stiff body towards it- big lights. Those always had heat coming off of them- just a couple of minutes sitting and blocking one of those power sucking lights would be more helpful than he knew at the time. But it would unfortunately also be his downfall, a gate is what stood between him and a spotlight aiming up the side of a tall building with the markings WE, we? we the people? he snorts to himself, jumping over the wall- his spider-sense warning him at the last possible second as his hand made contact with an electrical fence.

Chapter Text

Spider-Man groaned in pain as he started to get up, his head firing off as danger seemed to surround him all at once, making his brain go numb after a while. The ‘danger’ disappearing as his body finally decided it was gone. His arms and legs felt fuzzy, tingly all over as he tried to rub some feeling back into himself, unsure of what happened, where he was, or who had done this to him.

The last thing he somewhat remembered was grabbing the railing of some big and fancy looking business building.

How did he get here?

He started to piece himself together, grunting as he sat up, he felt his wrist catch on something, his head turning to look-

Some kind of plastic binding, keeping him tied down to an old medical bed. The room looked old, but taken care of, it reminded him of Oscorp.

Oscorp- was that how he got here? His brain was fuzzy and his memories were all pushed into one big blob.

He was Spider-Man, a crime fighting Hero/Vigilante (depending on who you asked), and he was trapped in this dark and dank what he thought to be operating room? He looked around for a few more minutes, no. This room had no windows- but it did have a mirror… it was a police interrogation room— minus the big scary table people usually had. They’d been courteous enough to give him a hard bed and some bands that they thought would hold him down— he did find it odd his mask was still on however, usually the cops would try and he’d wake up from his spidey-sense, but this time there was no such un-luck. It seemed the Parker Luck was working in reverse.

His body continued to scan the room, patiently waiting for someone to come in to talk to him, or maybe they thought him dangerous and wanted to keep to themselves. He didn’t know whether to be frightened, or confused. Police often didn’t kill. There was one thing he could sense however— and that was the fact he was not being watched. He knew tech, and he knew mirrors. This room was old- very, very old. While it did have some kind of security camera, it wasn’t working. He could tell from the old frayed wire being chewed a bit closer to the bottom- and what he had thought to be two way glass, was actually just a normal mirror. He could tell from the way his reflection shone back at him— and the tech in his lenses could easily see through the ruse. He pulled his arm on the bed, snapping the plastic easily— they thought him to be some kind of normal man, or maybe someone nice enough to wait. He didn’t have that luxury right now. This could be a Mysterio trap, or something else entirely. He couldn’t tell because here his Spidey-sense was always buzzing at the back of his mind. There was always something dangerous lurking about here- but where was here? It didn’t seem like Queens, or even Brooklyn or Hell’s Kitchen. Ugh, was he in New Jersey?

He didn’t think he had time to find out, the rest of the plastic snaps being torn off as he got up, his hand gripping the door handle as he shoved his weight against it and broke its rickety and rusted hinges, it hardly made a sound other than some form of pathetic squeaking as he set it against a wall.

Whoever had taken him here hadn’t been careful to keep him here, he knew that for sure. But he didn’t think that being followed around without being able to see his perpetrator(s?) was a good thing this could be a test, or an attack.

OR maybe they were dumb enough to leave the front door open and let him walk right out?

Spider-Man looked out at the dark alley, then back behind him, it wasn’t a hospital or a police department, it appeared to be some kind of escape room. Maybe a themed one— this sort of thing looked to be right up Mysterio’s alley (literally). But no… his Spidey-sense was still buzzing… was it the numbness? Was it the fact that he had been electrocuted? Or maybe— Spider-Man felt a rock hit his head as the building groaned in pain, collapsing as a gunshot went off, his head blaring at him

GET. DOWN.

It shouted at him as he leaped forward to get out of the way— a bullet following close behind and hitting the opposite wall. His breaths got sloppy, fast. His body sluggishly pulling itself back to its feet. Who was this? What was going on? He felt himself cough as he started to look around again, search for who had decided to shoot him. But no one came, and that bullet wasn’t a bullet. It was an arrow, one that was rubber tipped and triggered by him teasing over a trip-wire hook just a few steps back. Okay, thats weird…

He managed to stick himself to the side of a building, remembering what he had done before blacking out. Big fancy building, zap, thump, lights out.

Spidey’s eyes grazed the skyline as he spotted the building from before WAYNE. He remembered, spotting the WE on the building. It was on the other side of town, there was no way he got all the way out here without help— or lack of help… hm.

I told you we should have stole…

The Symbiote hissed in Peter’s mind, causing him to mutter out: “You didn’t do this, did you?” There was a glimmer of hope in his voice, that maybe, just maybe, Venom hadn’t done this for once.

I got you away from the danger, but I don’t exactly mix well with hunger and toxic chemicals unfortunately.

Toxic? OK, Venom had gotten him around this place, running after being spooked maybe. But he couldn’t remember why he had been running towards that building in the first place. Chased, Venom chimed in an answer. They’d been getting chased, but by who was the question? One that not even Venom had an answer for. He managed to get glimpses of what Venom was trying to do, control his body— get away from security guards. But then there was a new danger… masked men, clowns by the looks of it. Pale plastic masks, smiling with shiny red noses. There was one name he managed to remember among his mucked up senses, something from before.

JOKER. THE CLOWN PRINCE OF CRIME.

It was a paper in the back of his mind from an organization named the Gotham Gazette , he was piecing some things together, okay. He remembered to around the time he had started to developed the voice in his head, one determined to be Venom— or at least a part of them. But that was it. Nothing after that was ringing a bell— except for; SHOCK, splat, night-night. Like a bug caught on a bug zapper. Except he was far more lucky than any bug. He could feel his he’d fighting itself again, telling him to MOVE, MOVE! And he did, jumping out of the way, but nothing came. His head reeling in pain as he griped his hands over his skull and ears, eyes closing tightly. He felt his mouth open as he coughed, a painful chuckle wheezing out. He didn’t know what it was, but Venom didn’t seem to like it either. Calling it poison. Poisoned would explain some things the weakness, the tingly feeling, the being held down and locked up part. The Radioactivity in his blood and Venom would keep it at bay long enough to find an antidote, but he didn’t know how long ‘long’ was. He assumed ‘long’ would have to be soon, otherwise he’d end up wheezing on the Gotham concrete, an honestly pathetic way to die.

Ah, Gotham. Gotham city, New Jersey. OK. He managed to remember more as he allowed his head to rattle off and piece things together— it was smart like that. It was one of the ways he figured out the lenses and the web shooters he’d made for his suit.  He didn’t need to make his own webbing fortunately, since his body produced it on its own— he just used the shooters for pressure. He went over it in his mind, going over something familiar made his brain happy— but that could also be the poison that was forcing him to belly laugh on the ground too.

He wasn’t sure when it had started, but he did know he wanted it to end- and to end fast , his stomach was starting to hurt from the way his diaphragm moved involuntarily, like those horrible coughs you get when you have the flu and you can’t stop unless your body lets you. That’s the sort of thing you have to drink innumerable amounts of fluids for— often paired with honey and a lemon slice to get your body to enjoy drinking it over the course of many hours.

But back to the point! Venom had started to take over his body again, black curling around his fingertips as the laughing got quieter, his diaphragm pained as Venom paralyzed the muscle— starting to move his lungs himself. Peter gasping for breath as he half-scolded half-thanked the alien. “W-what’s your deal-“ Spider-Man gasps as he managed to get up, feeling his stomach twang with pain and paralysis.

If you die, I die, Spider. I am not in a position to do that, so for the time being— I’ll be your body… just let me use your brain.

Spider-Man wasn’t in the mood for complaining so he just let out a defeated wheeze, his legs shakily starting to walk forward. As long as Venom didn’t kill anyone, he honestly couldn’t care less.

You are no fun, but if it keeps you from setting off a sonic charge in our ears, then I’ll oblige…

“G-good, because I don’t think that ‘Black Alien Goo with anger issues’ Is invite to the Avengers Cookout,” He sputtered, forcing them both to lean against a wall as he tried to get himself to stop smiling— his cheeks were starting to hurt a lot. “You got a diagnosis, doc?”Peter asked Venom, trying to be lighthearted— but also figure out what was going on.

It is a toxin, you react to it poorly, but my biology can prevent it from taking over. It’s forcing your muscles to contract, specifically in your abdomen, throat and face.

“That explains the smiling and laughing,” Spider-Man swallows with another laugh/cough “w-what about the tingles?”

You touched an electric fence.

“… Touché.” Spider-Man nods, so he was on some kind of nerve toxin and left for dead? He didn’t know about that. Where were the people? There had to be Someone around. The building he was in had an awful lot of rooms… maybe if he kept checking them he could find someone to give him a cure, or to tell him how to make one. He pondered longer before another thought hit him like a truck. What if there were other people in there who were being injected or whatever with this toxin too? People who didn’t have an alien frenemy who would keep their body from contorting their muscles  and asphyxiating themselves? He fought to stand up straight, feeling Venom tug at his legs to try and get him to stop, to care about only himself.

But Peter couldn’t do that, and neither could Spider-Man.

He could hear Venom groaning and complaining in the back of his head, but he didn’t remove the black suit off his body, his way of admitting somewhat defeat by giving the Spider his strength for the time being, Peter was thankful. The black suit made his senses overload, on top of the eleven that they were always dialed onto, Venom added another thirteen. It was like he could feel things before they happened, his spidey-sense’s ‘webbing’ reaching out further and further as he detected men gathered in a large area, a closed off alleyway that met with a couple of others. Makeshift walls, beams and wooden slats manufactured as a makeshift roof— as well as a perch for Spider-Man to listen in at a central location. Were there others in the other rooms of the surrounding ‘abandoned’ apartments? Were any of Jokers goons talking about a cure or a way to make one? Maybe he could grab one and hang him by his ankle to get him to talk— he wasn’t exactly happy about being canned up in a fake room— left to die! That really got his head mad— it also alerted him to Venom;s interference.

“If you keep trying to make me murder people, I’m going to go and light myself on fire.” Spider-Man half snarls.

fine… I won’t kill. But you cannot stop me from eating people’s limbs. The alien bargained, Peter thought for a moment. These people weren’t the best. It technically wasn’t killing them, while it was technically against his code, Venom would only push more. If this is what their agreement had to be for now, so be it.

“fine, but no torture. Make it clean.”

You never let me have my fun, Spider… Venom sighed in the back of his head, but he could tell the alien was in agreement of his plan. At least enough to allow him more control over his limbs.

Venom felt nicer this ice, he felt.. different. More obedient. Weaker. Maybe it was the poison in his blood, or the buzzing from getting shocked by that electric fence. But either way, Peter felt like he was in control again. Not angry or violent. Mostly powerful, determined. He inhaled, closing his eyes as he let his senses flood the area, feeling around for others, three. Six. Twelve.

Three civilians outside the area, unrelated to the crimes occurring in the abandoned buildings in the surrounding space. Six other victims, locked in rooms, he could hear them laughing, he’d go help them first. Or at least try his best to. But maybe he could find a cure here, along the floor with the Twelve criminals conspiring on cinder block tables, guns strapped along their sides and plastic clown masks plastered across their faces.

He adjusted his footing as he let gravity take him, a web hooking to the wooden slat he was perched upon, hanging upside down as he slowly lowered himself, identifying different substances— there was drugs here too. But it didn’t look like there was anything that could be used to make a poison or a drug— that meant it came from a third party/location. He could spot vials, sloppy bottles of glass and dirty needles. They were doing this to test on people, or even kill them.

His hands gripped the web he hung from tighter as he wheezed out a weak chuckle—

That was a mistake on his part— heads looked up at him, he could smell the fear rising off of them as he glared down, all talking ceasing as he counted, a shot being fired from a close corner of the room, Spider-Man’s head shifting out of the way nonchalantly as it hit the wood behind him.

He couldn’t help but growl, letting the webbing he held go, a new strand of the material being shot at the gun that was fired and thrown at a different goons head— all before he even touched the ground. They were mostly quiet as Spider-Man lunged at someone else, a couple people muttering about ‘The Bat’. Which Peter could only identify as Batman— at least he thought. If they thought he was Batman— he’d use it. At least until all of them were tied up and on the ground. He wondered what the number for a police officer would be in this universe. Would it still be 911?

As he thought he took down four more— two knocked out and the other four webbed up against walls, floors or tables. Leaving him with six more people. Handled quickly when he webbed their hands and strung them on the ceiling. He picked up a pen and paper when he found it— a yellowed notepad with names and numbers for other bases he could take down. He pulled out any sheets that had information, and shoved the into his sleeves, he’d have to figure out the storage later. But for now, holding pages and thinner things— like a half empty vial of Laughing Poison and a bent needle. He hung next to the group of crooks on the ceiling, writing a note on it as he felt the men whimper in fear. He didn’t think they’d be that scared of him. He’d try and soothe them after- even if they didn’t deserve it.

Courtesy of Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man

It said, a doodle of his insignia drawn in a corner.

“I’d tell you to spread the word.” Spider-Man remarks as he showed the hung men the drawing and note before sticking it to them “But you’ll be too bust rotting in jail.” He cooed, holding back a laugh. Clearing his throat as he coughed and landed on the ground again.

Dead. All six of the victims were dead. Each one with a smile across their faces, their hearts had stopped. He assumed it was due to over exertion, or asphyxiation. Two women, one man. Three children. One of the woman had bitten their lip, blood dripping down her chin— still fresh. He didn’t know if it would be better to leave them, or call a hospital. He didn’t know any phone numbers here, nor did he have his phone on him. He muttered to himself as he landed on a lamp post outside of the buildings, looking at someone passing by, who paused as they saw him in all black, freezing in what the Spider thought to be fear.

“Call the police.” Spider-Man tells him, but the man didn’t reply with words, he only agreed, looking down to call. When he looked back up he was met with nothing, Spider-Man had already gone. Swinging his way onto a rooftop. Off to take down the rest of the bases, to stop more people from dying.

To find a cure for ourselves.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: The Spider’s Nest

“That has got to be Black Spider.” Tim interjects into their conversation, Bruce had been speaking about Spider-Man’s intrusion on Wayne Enterprises grounds, the way he’d fallen hard— he was just about to send someone to go and find him, collect and bring him to some abandoned warehouse for interrogation, but he had had n such luck due to the fact that Spider-Man had gotten up, black covered his body, and he started to slouch away like some kind of injured animal.

He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but he had Tim follow him, and now they were currently going over the footage he had captured to try and see what they were dealing with.

“No, it’s too erratic, untrained. Like some sort of beast inside of him. It reminds me more of uncontrolled rage… maybe…” he thought it could be a side effect of a Lazarus Pit, but that didn’t explain the living exo-suit that Spider-Man wore across his body. It looked alive, bending similar to how he had seen plastic man move. Scared and angry— hurt too, but that was mostly Bruce’s fault. Sorta. Spider-Man was still the one who had grabbed the railing of the fence, he guessed his sixth sense hadn’t detected it or he had decided to ignore it.

Bruce had been going through Tim’s footage, trying to see how it worked. It appeared to be directional. It warned him that there was danger, maybe in one direction or just the general area— but maybe not what was dangerous. He still was a half second faster than the goons that Joker had, which proved that he didn’t work for him— or perhaps it was more like a bell that went off, saying DANGER. But only that. He wanted to pick at his brain, but he couldn’t. Joker had gotten to him first.

How?

How had they gotten so close to Wayne Enterprises without him ever noticing? He knew something was up, and now he had to worry about Joker getting his hands on a meta human… he didn’t want a repeat of what happened the last time Joker got his hands on someone like Spider-Man.

Bruce growls as he clenched  fist “We need him custody yesterday.” He says, looking back at Drake, “Can you do that for me?”

“I can, give me a couple of days… and maybe a taser?” He half asked, It was more like a statement towards Batman, to which he grumbles— which meant yes to Tim. Who earned a smile across his cheeks “this is going to be fun, I’ll get the Spider-Man…”
“Tim, don’t be rash.” He warns, he knew how he could get, cocky, full of himself. He didn’t want there to be another Robin incident anytime soon, he would much rather they all remain in one piece.

“I can’t promise you anything.” Tim grins, his mischievous demeanor showing as he got up.

“Tim, im serious.”
“when are you not serious?” Tim asks genuinely, rolling his eyes, “I’m taking Dick’s bike by the way, so if he asks…”
“You have your own bike, Tim.”
“yeah, but NIghtwing’s is faster- and I totaled mine.” He adds absently as he grabs the keys off its hook and ran for it.

“TIM.” Bruce huffs, but he didn’t even get up, he just watched him run off, he’d tell Nightwing later… but right now he was going to continue overseeing this footage so he could learn as much as he could about how this.. ‘Spider-Man’ fought.

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The police came soon after Spider-Man asked the stranger to call, he stayed close, remorseful towards the people inside who hand’t been able to resist the toxin at the same level as he could. He could still feel his chest heaving, and laughs escaped. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been before, thanks to Venom. Ugh. He couldn’t trust the symbiote for long, he knew it could be any second until he was betrayed again. Venom would most liekly use the toxin against him, he didn’t even know if it was possible for it to wear off, it could just be another thing he had to live with. Venom breathing for him. It was almost humiliating. He could feel every b breath being forced in and out by Venom, since his diaphragm was currently paralyzed to keep him from laughing and asphyxiating.

You should trust me, we are in this together. You’re the only one I can bond with. I’m not risking pissing you off just because I want to be in charge, I’ll behave for now.

“You know, that’s really not very assuring, Venom,” He rolled his eyes as he lifts his arm to pull himself away, jumping onto the corner of a building to perch. He would stay nearby until he felt like moving— “Also, do you have to be on me? The red and blue scared them, I think that the black and white will just make it even worse.” Peter didn’t want to scare anyone, the more aggressive and the sharper tone of the black symbiotic suit might scare people more than he liked— he was here to help, not cause additional emotional stress towards the poor civilians of Gotham.

His head still had gaps, he didn’t remember how he had gotten here and neither did Venom, they were both a bit lost, but he was putting things together slowly. He was broke, and he needed a job. Or at least a way to get some sort of food. Maybe he could go to a homeless shelter? He paused, fights… maybe people paid for those here too. If he could find out where villains hung out he could bet on himself, he could win some fights, get some villains off the streets— while he knew for a fact it most definitely was not legal— at least he would have some money and some way to get food with said money. He had to. Be honest it wasn’t his worst idea, and maybe he could throw in some food for venom too— since apparently he ate different food than he did and have an affinity towards human flesh. Or maybe it was just a love for flesh in general— he could get him some flesh. Just plain flesh… he could find a butcher and ask for the leftovers and let Venom go to town? Peter tried to relax his mind, to try and see how Venom felt about his head, met with grumbling and a distain. He didn’t like the idea, but ti seemed like he was accepting it for the most part. Which was good, it meant that he could eat animal flesh, it just didn’t taste as good is what he got. But he was stuck with him, he wasn’t allowed to be overly picky about the food he got.

I still think we should steal.

“We can steal from villains, when we kick their buts in a fight pit.” If such a thing exists….

Peter thought to himself, Venom scoffing to itself.

I can hear your thoughts, there is no reason for you to be speaking aloud to me, it just makes you look crazy.

“So does perching on a random building after beating up a group of goons, I already look crazy. I’d rather do this than try to figure out my inner thoughts, there’s a lot of them now that you’re there crowding my brain.” Spider-Man points out as he stands, he had to find some heat, the moving and the body heat of the criminals had kept him mostly warm for a moment, but it wouldn’t last long. He was thinking about just going and finding a heat vent, but he wanted to be inside, maybe a library or some kind of public train that he could hide on top of and hang out on. They made a lot of head, and a lot of noise. But he could handle it if he could trade for some sleep and warmth. His body was tired since for the most part he had been trying to reset himself after being tased by an electric fence. That was his own bad, he had been stupid to try and trespass on the very rich looking building. It reminded him of Stark Tower, only with less fun colors and in black and white. Somehow it felt more egotistical than Iron man, that felt impossible. Iron Man was probably had the biggest and most annoying ego of anyone he had ever met, so saying this.. Wayne person  had an even bigger one was saying something.

Would you stop running on tangents, your brain is burning more calories than you’re consuming and it’s going to kill us both at this rate.

“Well sorry, your Highness, I didn’t know that this was YOUR body. You’re a tenant right now, buck-o, so I don’t want to hear anything about my brain. Because it’s mine.” Spider-man points to himself, earning more pained and irritated groans from the symbiote. “You are seriously so dramatic.”

Swinging resumed soon after their little argument, searching for any public place he could sneak into and sleep in— just for the night!

The nearest and least exposed place he could find was an old abandoned hospital, the power still worked and there was dozens of old beds and mattresses he could choose from. The halls were clean, white, just out of order and dusty. Peter collected a few of the mattresses and placed them alone one of the inner rooms, like one giant floor of bed, then he took some of the sheets and shoved those in too. Sure, it was overkill, but it wasn’t like anyone was using the space. He really just wanted to get warm and get some sleep.

He found chemical heat packs, shaking a couple of them awake as he placed them inside of the duvet covers and placed them around him, letting it heat the space. Just for the night. He’d stay just for the night.

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The morning Peter woke up,  he was surrounded by spiders, each one pressing whispers into his ears, he was always able to hear them speak. Understanding them was a different thing. He sat up as he heard them speak, fifty or so spiders of different origins sat on top of the mess of mattresses and sheets, each one whispering and staring with unbridled curiosity. Most of the words were simple, quiet, ‘who?’ ‘Who?’ Over, and over again. A couple asked other questions in more words that took Peter longer to understand, he wasn’t afraid. At least he didn’t think he was. Peter stood, carefully making sure he didn’t shift any of the spiders in a way that caused them to bite him— he had been bitten before and the last time it had happened it wasn’t pretty. Ironically, Spider-Man was afraid of spiders. To an extent. He could tolerate one or two, existing in the same space— but fifty of them murmuring and surrounding him? Hell no. He decided that he would leave right then and there, slowly walking past them, making sure he didn’t anger any of them by stepping on them or knocking them over. He closed the door behind him, and it lead to more spiders, thousands. Six or seven on each wall, others hanging in webs. How had he not noticed them before? He had been far too tired he assumed, or cold. Or hungry. Ugh… maybe he could find some old hospital gelatin or some kind of microwave meal… there was power, he had just been cautious enough not to use it. A random hospital on the edge of town turning on the power after years of nothing? It would be suspicious and most likely earn himself a visitor that he didn’t want.

“I’ll just… be going…” he said to the spiders, unsure if they understood him back, slowly making his way down the hall towards what he hoped was a cafeteria. Luckily he was correct, finding cereal bars and mini bags of expired chips. He’d survive— as long as it wasn’t mold. Don’t mess with mold… he sat down on one of the many rolling chairs in the area, spinning absently as he stuffed old potato and corn chips into his mouth, drinking electrolyte drinks he’d found in an out of order refrigerator. He hoped that it wouldn’t poison him, so far his Spidey-Sense was quiet though, so he didn’t worry himself about food poisoning. Once he had had his unorthodox fill of food, he stretched, leaning back as he felt his back pop softly, a grunt escaping him as he stood up straight.

He felt more weird the longer his Spidey-sense didn’t go off, normally by now somebody would have found him, someone would have hurt him. Was It broken? Was he dead?

You are not DEAD… Venom barked a laugh, insulting his paranoia. Even without the Spidey-Sense he was anxious and jumpy… it was hilarious.

“I feel dead… Nothing has happened to me and I actually feel well rested for once in my Spider-Life.” Spidey replied with an exhausted sigh, there it is. The feeling of existential dread. Something was getting close…. “I told you so….” He whispered to the symbiote. Black covering his body as he looked around, hearing a creak in the metal nearby, body twisting towards it quickly as he felt a hiss rise in his throat. He felt a couple of the spiders from before scatter over his feet, staring down the same hall as him. He knew his fears were somewhat confirmed, his head spiking with pain as he shifted to the side— a long curved sword whizzing past and clattering against the floor seconds later. “Whoever you are, come out. I’ll be able to find you no matter what.” The second part being added by the symbiote, but Spider-Man deemed it just the right amount of threatening.

“Father was right, you do have some sort of sense, I was perfectly hidden and you still managed to detect me…” a voice hummed, it seemed young, cocky almost. But not lying or filled with malice. Almost skilled… Spider-Man could feel somebody moving, he wasn’t sure from where and the spiders were just as anxious as he was. His sense was still going off, which in his opinion seemed odd for someone who couldn’t be older that fifteen, Spider-Man did have to laugh at himself at his own internal comment though, since he had been fighting people in the streets around the same age.

“You changed your costume, it feels more “spider-like”, eh?” The voice continued, Peter shifting to the side once more as a second sword hits the ground next to him, how many swords did this kid have? Was he Deadpool?

“I don’t want to hurt you, kid…” Spider-Man Spoke back, shifting on the balls of his feet as he felt something pass behind him, but since whatever it was had posed no current threat, his Spidey-Sense had decided to tune it out.

“Hurt me? You’ll be lucky to touch me, old man.” That struck a nerve with the web slinger;

“OLD MAN?” He exclaimed, feeling genuinely hurt “I’m twenty six, not forty!” He scoffs, slinging a web down the dark hallway, the sound of a knife slashing heard as it was cut, two white-ish eyes appearing in the darkness, glinting back at him like a cats.

“Old.” The boy states, “You’re unlucky it was I who found you, I would rather drag you back by the scruff of that tacky costume than talk things out, so, what do you say Spider-Man? Are you ready for your ass to get handed to you by a common songbird?”