From The Smoke (Marvel SI)

Chapter 21– Developments.

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"Not bad, Ben. But then again, I've been better." Jessica says, taking the seat across from me, practically slumping into it. I stifle a chuckle when her head lols back in her chair as she lazily raises a hand in the air, catching the attention of the waitress nearby. Without a single word being exchanged, the waitress goes to get her order for her, Jessica being a regular here and very familiar with all of the people here, which now includes me as well.

"Hah, sounds rough. So you haven't been having much luck, then?" I enquire, sipping on my coffee to keep my chuckles from escaping, having done that before and been on the receiving end of a harsh glare for it. But given just what she is having so much trouble with, I can't help but find some amusement in it, finding it incredibly ironic.

"Try no luck at all. Whenever I am not making ends meet, I am running all over the city just trying to find the bastard, only managing sometimes to get a glimpse of the asshole before he disappears." Hearing her complaints, I find it incredibly hard to keep my grin from stretching because the rim of my cup would not be enough to hide it, and I can only thank the fact that she is staring up at the ceiling right now that she can't see me.

"Well, Spider-Man is a popular guy. People all over the city want to meet him, grab hold of him and maim him. So it is no wonder he is so quick to scurry away." Jessica Carradine, the woman across from me, looked at me with lidded eyes as she rose back up to accept the cup of coffee handed to her by the waitress. She is a journalist or something, and she is determined to find Spider-Man for some reason, wanting to ask him some questions.

I don't know much more beyond that, and to be honest, I haven't pried much. I know for certain that Jessica is determined to find Spider-Man, to the point she works some dead-end jobs to make ends meet so she can focus on chasing him down. It makes me feel kind of bad that technically a Spider-Man, or rather a former one, is sitting right across from her and would probably be able to answer all her questions. Sadly for her, that will never happen. As far as I am concerned, this is Peter's problem, and I am just an observer.

"Still, it doesn't explain how that little punk Parker manages to get so many photos. I just wish I could find him, and I bet I could get him to squeal and tell me his secret." That was actually how myself and Jessica met because she thought I was Peter. I had a cap on underneath a hood while in the shop, and she suddenly came up out of nowhere and started talking to me, thinking I was Peter. Thankfully when I removed my cap and hood, she saw my blond hair and noticed that I was not Peter, and that is how we met. I can only be thankful that Peter still has a semi-Clark Kent thing going on, pretending to be a bit of a timid coward. I won't be doing that kind of thing, it just isn't my type of thing, plus I have no one to protect either.

"Well, good luck to you. I hope one day you manage to track them both down and finagle whatever it is you want out of them." I smile at her, to which she smiles back. She actually looks quite lovely when she isn't so haggard and weary. She has tan skin, brown eyes and wild black hair. She has some light makeup on to cover the eyebags underneath her eyes and black lipstick on as well. She has some black biker boots on, with some brown slacks, and a cosy black turtleneck jumper, over which she wears a grey trenchcoat. She has a kind of goth, scruffy look going on that actually works for her. She is actually very good-looking when she isn't scowling all the time.

"Alright, enough about me and my problems. Let's talk about yours. It will make me feel better." Jessica says, smirking at me before sipping on her drink. I sigh a little just for appearance, but to be honest, this is the reason I come here. After all, I could go to any coffee shop anywhere, and there are no doubt more relaxing places to destress that I can easily afford with all the cash I have tucked away. But I keep on coming back here because Jessica here is a really great person to talk at.

"Hah, what problems? I don't have problems." I say, which Jessica just deadpans at me for, because I have told her of my numerous problems in the past. Then, of course, I spruce it all up, change some facts and terms, and once there is nothing too sensitive, I tell her. It just ended up this way after a few meetings, with her sharing her problems and me sharing mine, an excellent way to vent. I wasn't even looking for a solution or anything, I was just saying my words aloud, and she listened, maybe a bit of advice here or there, and I did the same for her.

"Come on, Ben. Let's talk about that sexy roommate of yours you've been having trouble with. Any development there?" She asks, bringing up a subject that I have been trying to avoid thinking about lately. Still, unfortunately, I already talked to Jessica here about it not long after the fact, and Jessica isn't the type of person to let such things go. When she is interested in something, she grabs on tight and refuses to let go unless you chop off her hands, figuratively, of course.

"Nope, nothing of the sort. We have just been living in the same place and hardly see each other. I am busy with my work, and she is busy with hers." I was a bit miffed at the beginning and wanted to do something after the high from the mall trip, but that wore off after a while, and I realised that I nearly got invested when I wanted to get as far away as possible from this place.

"Nothing else happened after that mall trip? It's been a month already, and you live together, for god's sake. How can nothing have happened?" She immediately goes on a tirade, taking me by surprise. Usually, she just sits and listens, does some light teasing and joking around with a bit of advice and opinion to go along with it. But never before has she been so outspoken and irritated before like she has some kind of personal stake in this or she is relating to it in some way.

"We work long hours respectively, and we are dead tired when we get home, and we miss each other on our days off." I don't have any days off, and neither does Felecia, what with the work we are doing. We work exclusively at night, and during the day, I am busy out and about, going to my martial arts classes and other stuff. I don't know what Felecia does, but she is always still asleep by the time I am ready and leaving in the morning, and she is not there when I get back.

"Come on, Ben. You bought her an expensive silver earring. That must've meant something. Is she even wearing it?" I did buy her that earring, a mistake maybe because it has made things between us a bit iffy, but I don't regret it. Felecia might have tried to sell me out to the Kingpin, but that was when he was threatening her mother, and she panicked, and she didn't actually reveal anything about me.

And afterwards, after being put in a tough spot, she handed me the documents and ID she had made for me when she could have kept it and forced me to stay with her and help her with her problem, but she didn't. So Felecia didn't really do anything wrong. She was placed in a tough spot with her mother being threatened, and she panicked and said something that she didn't even think about properly. Immediately after, she apologised and gave me the means to leave that she had already prepared for me, with no strings attached.

"The only times I see her is the short period where we cross paths for a minute or two, and she is dressed in her work outfit. Her work doesn't allow her to wear any accessories or anything, so I have no clue whether she has been using the earing I got her. Now can we stop talking about this? I have come to the decision not to pursue anything with her. We are good friends and roommates, and I don't want to jeopardise that or my place to live." I make an excuse for not wanting to continue on this topic anymore. Jessica looks at me for a second, wanting to continue it, but bites her lip and nods, refraining from doing so.

"Alright, guess it's my turn then. Let me tell you about this asshole at work called John, the bastard. All day long he..."

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I watch from the corner of a rooftop as a young man lounges around on a street corner in Hell's Kitchen, a very deserted location given the fact that it is nighttime in this area, and usually, the predators are creeping around, and the mice are hiding away. There would always be a gaggle of thugs hanging around since it would be dangerous to be alone, which is why this is so suspicious to me.

For a man being alone in an isolated space, in a terrible place like this, he is remarkably relaxed and unworried, meaning that he is confident and feels safe right now. So either he is a guy that has too much unfound confidence that is going to get himself killed tonight, or if he is lucky, in a hospital bed, or he is a bigshot which I highly doubt. The most likely thing is that this little shit is backed by someone high up, so he can be alone here because no one would dare to touch him, which means I definitely want to touch him... That came out wrong.

I watch as the young man suddenly drops his cigarette to the ground and stamps it out before walking to the trash can nearby, and I can see why he started to take action as another man walks out of a shadowy alley. This man looks a bit more professional, dressed in a shirt and tie beneath a trenchcoat, as he walks over to the young man, who seriously starts to hasten his actions.

Reaching within the trashcan, the man rummages around a bit, throwing out some garbage in the process. The professional-looking man comes to a stop around a metre behind him, not wanting to get any trash on him and waits for the youngster to finish his rummaging. Taking the opportunity for what it is, I quickly hop over the side of the building into an alley, grabbing and transitioning through a few positions using the fire escapes and other parts of the buildings to descend into it quietly.

Sneaking over to the entrance of the alley, I look out to see them both still occupied, and so I reach into the leftmost pocket on my utility belt and draw out a pitch-black little disk, about five millimetres in diameter. After that whole thing with the truck full of people, I realised that I went into this thing a bit half-cocked, and so I went and tried to bolster my tools and equipment.

I make a fist with my right hand, my thumb digging into the inside, and I place the little disk on the top of my thumb. Then, moving my hand forward, I calculate the distance and move my fist upwards, and then I flick my thumb out, shooting the disk off across to finally slip in between the gap of the man's heel and his shoe to attach itself to the back of his sock. Damn, my brain is fantastic, and who knew math could be so amazing when you are actually good at it.

I don't have time to think further of the wonders of math as the young man turns around holding a small black bag which he quickly cleans off and hands to the man, who simply takes it and stashes it on the inside of his coat and then turns around and walks away without a word. I watch him go for a minute but ultimately turn my attention to the young man who is wiping his head in relief which I should rinse for information first.

I have a tracking device on the other guy, after all, so I should be able to get to him anytime I want. I spent a lot of time boosting the signal of it on a specific frequency only known to me, so I should be able to find him as long as he doesn't move too far out of New York. Just to double-check check, I bring up my left arm and tap on it to transform part of the pitch-black surface into a dimmed blue screen, and it shows the transmitter slowly moving away from me.

I really boosted myself into a new gear after getting blasted into that wall by a stupid goon, and I made sure to take precautions as well, such as having another way to check my interface other than the screen on my arm. I use my arms for fighting, after all, so they might get damaged and is just there for the sake of ease. But, of course, if it were to break, then I would be pretty screwed, wouldn't I? Which is why I have a small device in my utility belt that would be able to do the same things, and I have a few backups at home as well, and this is just one of the upgrades I have done.

I watch as the young man reaches into his pocket and brings out a pack of cigarettes, obviously wanting to stress relief after that apparently stressful situation. Then, getting ready for my part in the play about to begin, I walk over to the middle of the alleyway and face the young man, the shadows still hiding me from view. I reach into my utility belt and draw a single Batarang ready myself as the young man places a single cigarette in his mouth and brings up a zippo lighter to the tip to light it.

His zippo just reaches the tip, and he is about to light it when I fling my Batarang out before quickly moving my hands to my side and allowing my cape to envelop my lower body entirely, and use a function of my suit to change the lenses in my cowl to a bright white. The Batarang zips through the air and cuts right through the side of the cigarette, and embeds itself in the wall on the other side, the end of the cigarette hitting the ground just as the flame sparks to light above the zippo. The young man stalls entirely, the flame staying lit as he looks at the flame... and then down at the chopped-off cigarette... and then right at the Batarang in the wall... and then left at me... and then he runs.

Turning off the white lenses which no doubt served their purpose and scared the bejeezus out of the man, I quickly grapple up on the roof and begin to follow him. Theatrics are a big part of instilling fear in criminals and getting information out of them. Sure, I could just grab ahold of them and beat the snot out of them, but that would be a lot of wasted effort on my part, and I can't be bothered to hit them until they squeal. This way, they will shit themselves as I use all sorts of scare tactics, and when I grab hold of them, they will spill everything just to get away from me. Plus, I'm Batman. Instilling fear is part of the job description.

I silently hop across the roofs in pursuit of the young criminal, following him through the streets and alleyways, searching for safety. I must be lucky or something because every path he takes is deserted, like, every other way he could have taken has at least a few people on it, but for some inexplicable reason, this guy just ends up running through dead streets. What an unlucky guy.

Seeing the guy start to struggle and become short of breath, I quickly move to take my next position for the second act. The young man looks back over his shoulder for the last time, and not seeing anything, he comes to a stop, his hands resting on his knees as he pants for dear life. And then he looks up, and there I am, all the way at the end of the street, underneath the beaming light of a street pole, just staring at him. One would think the darkness would be scarier, but the light has its uses as well and can be just as terrifying when utilised correctly. Such as right now, showcased by the young man abruptly turning around and running back in the other direction that he came from.

With all the preparation done, I can safely move on to the interrogation part of this procedure, but even that has a proper starting point. And so I quickly take to the roofs again and rush ahead of the young man who hasn't even left the street yet. Letting a guy stew can work very well, but there are also times when acting abruptly is even more effective, such as after you let them stew, which is what I am going to do now.

Seeing the man turn to run down another alley and search ahead of it, I quickly spot a large dumpster along the street with garbage piled up all around it, which should make for some excellent cover. Moving swiftly and silently, I covertly drop down to the street level and hide behind the dumpsters, and then wait for my prey to come to me.

Focusing my senses, I pay attention to the drumming of panicked footsteps rapidly slapping against the concrete pavement, coming closer and closer to my position. My eyes shoot open when I have determined the correct timing, and my arm whips out from behind the dumpster to grab ahold of the running young man, who flails like a wild chicken in my grasp. I made sure not to clench his throat too tightly, not wanting to pop his head right off. I'm not even sure if I am capable of that, though I do know that I could bend his neck like a sippy straw.

Using my grip on him, I swing him around and slam him into the brick wall next to the dumpster, elevated just enough that his tiptoes are just barely scraping against the ground as my hand holds him in place. His arms uselessly clutch my own in an attempt to shake my grasp, but his attempts are pitiful, and my arm remains unfettered as he begins to struggle for breath.

"Talk," I say as I loosen my grasp, the young criminal hastily breathing in as much oxygen as he can, unaware of if he will be able to do so in the future. After finally getting enough oxygen to his brain, he registers what I said and looks at me with panicked eyes.

"O-Okay, okay- I'm just a messenger man, a nobody! All I do is drop stuff off. P-Please don't hurt me." He says hurriedly, giving me information without a fight. I don't know if this is my scare tactics at work, or he is just naturally this cowardly and self-preserving.

"What stuff," I say, drawing my face closer to him so that my dimmed white lenses are staring directly into his eyes. He looks away, unable to handle the intensity but starts rapidly talking as he does so.

"I-I don't know, man. I JUST DO WHAT I'M TOLD... Okay, can you let me go... please?" No wonder this guy started to spill so quickly. It's because he doesn't know jack shit. He is just a courier, a glorified mailman that delivers shit for others. And worse than that, he doesn't even get to look at the mail or peek at the packages like a mailman gets to. I know they do. They definitely do. I would. It's incredibly easy just to steam a letter open and then just seal it back up. And things are always getting lost in the mail, and I know half of my Amazon packages that never turned up were either taken by the delivery man themselves or somebody who spotted it when they were walking by.

"Not enough..." I say, leaving it open-ended. Obviously, this kid probably has nothing more to say, but I wasted time hunting him down, so I am going to try and squeeze as much as I can out of him. Which apparently includes urine as well because I can see a stain starting to appear on his pants. This is why I have learnt to hold all the people I interrogate at a distance because, more often than not, they defecate or piss themselves, and this way, it only goes down their own legs. Or if I am holding them off of the ledge of a rooftop, their own faces.

"A-ALRIGHT! P-PLEASE- OKAY!! I- I HAVE SOMETHING ELSE! THERE IS GOING TO BE A BIG MEETING BETWEEN A LOT OF THE TOP GUYS!! THE PLAYMAKERS!! I DON'T KNOW WHERE, BUT IT IS GOING TO BE IN FIVE DAYS' TIME!! OKAY, THAT'S ALL I KNOW!!" He says, and I release him to sit in his own mess as I walk away. I can hear him hyperventilate and talk to himself behind me as I leave, but I ignore it in favour of returning to get my Batarang and thinking about what the thug just told me.

A big meeting between all of the big shots, and if anyone is a big shot, that would be Wilson Fisk. Of course, there is no guarantee that he will be there. After all, to the hoodlum behind me, every guy with a gun is a higher-up. Plus, if it is something that important, the fact that a little scrub like this knows about this is suspicion and reeks of being a trap. If it is for me or not, it remains to be seen, and it is still an opportunity.

Still, if there is a chance that the Kingpin will be there, then this could be an ample opportunity for me. If I turn up and crash the big party, and make a strong show of force, then there is no way they will be able to ignore me, and I will become priority number one. With them all focused on me, they will forget about Felecia, especially if I kick the shit out of the fat man myself.

After their attention is entirely on Batman, I need to keep it there, but I also need to leave as well since I have resolved Felecia's problem. Maybe I can just pass the mantle of Batman onto someone else, explain some of the situations and have them be the target, maybe Daredevil or someone entirely new. Oh well, I can think about that stuff in the future. Right now, I need to hurry up after the guy I placed the tracking device on.

But first I have to retrieve my Batarang... which is no longer in the wall where I left it...

Quickly searching the area, I find the two halves of the cigarette on the ground, which confirms this is the right spot. And looking back at the brick wall, I can see the thin slit in the cement between the bricks, clearly made by my Batarang... but it is nowhere in sight.

I look around, but there is nobody else around, and there are no clues to follow either. I quickly switch between the multiple modes of my lenses using infrared and others, but I am unable to pick up on any hints or anybody in the surroundings. Whoever took it is gone with the wind, and there is no way to track them.

Note to self, find a way to keep track of your own equipment and try to pick up everything you leave behind before running off when possible. But unfortunately, there is nothing I can do about this right now, and I need to hurry up and track down the guy who took that package.

Zipping up to the rooftops and checking the interface on my arm, I quickly set off to follow the transmitter. Though I can't help but worry about who exactly took that Batarang, sure, it could just be a random kid or guy looking to sell it for some quick cash. Somehow, I get the feeling I am not that lucky, and this is somehow going to come back and bite me in the back.

Oh well, nothing I can do about it now. Best to just push it to the side and ignore it with zeal until it inevitably props its head out again and somehow worsens my life.

 

Chapter 22– Bad Meeting.

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It has been a few days since I cornered that young man and managed to force the information about the mob boss meeting from him. After that, and after I realised someone had taken one of my batarangs and I had no way to know who, I left to track down the man in the suit that took the package.

Long story short, it was just another Friday night, and I found a drug den though it was a lot more organised and professional than the usual run-of-the-mill operations. That didn't mean it was any tougher to take down. In fact, I might even say it was even easier due to the scheduling and the literal rota I found in their base that told me where they were all stationed that day. The package was actually just instructions for the next supply being delivered, though it was written so that I could not interpret it correctly.

After that, I just did what I usually did and terrorised as many ne'er do wells as I could and rinsed them for information. Then, using that information, I kept hitting numerous places, breaking in, kicking ass and shutting them down hard. But the one piece of information that kept coming up consistently was that the mob bosses were going to have a meeting, and I quickly got the date of the meeting, but the location and time were not revealed to me.

I kept running through the lowlifes on the street but never got any accurate information, so I decided to go up the ladder. Not using force or power since that wouldn't work in this situation, I used subtlety and stealth. Finding out the location of a member higher up in the organisation, I snuck up to him when he was alone and used my extraordinary fear tactics on him and derived the location and time of the meeting out of him.

I didn't worry about the guy letting loose that I knew or informing the bosses to stop the meeting or change it, I was told of the details, and those details would remain the same. In a workplace environment like the mob and other criminal organisations, letting people know that you talked, even if you tried to rectify it after the fact, is a one-way ticket to sleeping with the fish. You can't be trusted, you have loose lips, and therefore they will become dead lips.

With that information, I have been preparing in whatever ways I can, such as stocking up on and improving upon my equipment. I also kept up my normal activities since I didn't want to tip anyone off by acting differently, and I was also checking other sources and confirmed several times that my information was correct.

And so, here I am, returning home after doing my daily activities and relaxing because now it is closing in on the time of the meeting, and so I have to go and scope the place out. I have already done so several times, but as far as I have seen, it is a random run-down building in a very secluded area. This is most likely why they chose it since it has no affiliation to them, and so they can have their meeting away from wandering eyes.

Walking through the hotel hallway on one of the highest floors, I reach into my pocket and take out my room key while sighing to myself. Honestly, in the beginning, I was kind of happy to finally have the place in my name, and so I wouldn't have to keep sneaking into the home and never leaving through the door. But now I miss it, the sheer amount of time I have spent in boredom coming through the hotel lobby, spending ages waiting in elevators that are sometimes too packed and then dealing with all of the staff.

Opening my front door, I can't help but miss those times when I could just ignore people knocking at the door and not worry about anything but playing my video games. I had been working my way through the Yakuza games and was now on Yakuza 4. I genuinely envy Felicia, who doesn't have to deal with any of that, though I suppose she doesn't have time to take advantage of that since she is being worked to the bone.

And speak of the devil, as I enter the penthouse, I spy Felicia sitting on the sofa in her Black Cat costume though it is hard to make out in the darkness. She hadn't even taken notice of me coming into the room, just sat there, her face highlighted by the bright, harsh light of the television, which was constantly flickering. I can see that she is sitting there quite listlessly and absent-minded, as if there is something that has taken up much of her thoughts, and she is in deep thought about it.

Curious as to what is taking up so much of her thoughts, but not wanting to get too involved or sucked in, I decide to just skirt by her and go to my room. I don't have time for any of this right now. The time of the mob meeting is coming up soon, and if I don't leave now, then I will be arriving very late, and I don't know how long this thing will last, and if the slightest thing goes wrong, they could all run off. So I want to get there early and set up inside, so I won't have to bypass any security to eavesdrop on the meeting since I will already be inside the building, probably in a vent or something.

Moving silently, I try and slip by behind her and just slink into my room. I go slowly and surely, keeping an eye on her as I do so, trying not to rouse any attention. I am skirting by behind her when I chance a glance at the TV, and I can't help but pay attention to it as the show that is on is one of my favourites. The Office is on right now, and truthfully I can not in the slightest understand how Felicia is ignoring it because one of the funniest moments of the show is on television right now.

It is the episode where Stanley has a heart attack because of Michael, and Michael gets scared, so he brings in a CPR teacher, and they all start fucking around with the test dummy. I got here just in time for the instructor to tell Michael to do CPR to the beat of the Beegees 'Staying Alive', and he got it wrong and started doing it to Gloria Gaynor's (I think) 'I Will Survive.

"First I was afraid I was petrified- No, it's ah, ah, ah, ah stayin' alive, stayin' alive" He is corrected by the instructor, and then with some stuff said by the other characters, he starts to do it again to the correct song. Damn, this episode also had a brilliant cold open. The one where Dwight locks all the doors and windows and then simulates a fire breaking out and making a lot of smoke, making everyone panic and freak the fuck out, driving Stanley to a heart attack.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah stayin' alive, stayin' alive. Ah, ah, ah, ah, stayin' alive, stayin' alive. Ah, ah, ah- Oh, you can tell by the way I use my walk I'm a woman's man, no time to talk. Music loud, women warm, been kicked around since I was born. Oh, it's all right, it's okay, you can look the other way" Michaels starts performing it correctly, and then Andy suddenly jumps in and starts singing it and dancing, and then the rest of them start joining in as well.

"Yeah, okay, you didn't maintain 100 beats per minute, and the ambulance didn't arrive because nobody called 911. So you lost him." The instructor shouts, annoyed with them all.

"Okay. He's dead. Does anyone know what we do next? Anybody? Rose? I have no idea- We bury him." Michael says, clearly not understanding that the practice is finished and keeping it going, and someone replies with a sensible option when Dwight speaks up.

"Wrong. Check for an organ donor card. If he has one, we only Have minutes to harvest." Dwight says, absolutely serious. "He has no wallet. I checked. He is an organ donor.- he is? - yeah." Creed answers him, and then Michael makes the executive decision that the dummy is an organ donor, and Dwight runs away with it.

"Give me some ice and a styrofoam bucket. Here we go. - Oh, my god!- Dwight! Dwight! What are you- What are you doing?!- We search for the organs. Where's the heart? The precious heart." Acting quickly, Dwight pulls out a knife and ignores everybody screaming and stabs the dummy through the chest and starts to cut it open, and I can't help the snort of laughter that escapes from me. Immediately I noticed my blunder since I was trying to be silent and escape Felicia's attention. Still, it was just so funny that I just ended up standing there and watching it, completely forgetting my surroundings and ending up laughing, which you will always do when watching The Office. It is inevitable.

"Huh- Oh, Ben..." Felicia's head suddenly jerks up at my sudden laughter, and she twists her neck around to spot me standing behind the couch right behind her, which would be pretty creepy, all things considered, so I quickly go to answer her.

"Hey, Felicia. I was just on the way to my room, but I had to stop for a second to see this bit." I say, explaining why I was lurking silently behind her all this time. She doesn't say anything to my explanation and instead looks to the TV to see what I am talking about before nodding her head. I guess she was in such deep thought that she wasn't even aware of what was on the TV. Usually, she would be very aware of her surroundings and the going on, but for her to be this lax, something must be wrong.

"Oh, yeah, this is a funny one. Haha..." Felicia says to break the silence but just enhances the awkwardness instead since I really don't know how to act around her since that day in the mall. I know she is thinking about something, and I care. I really do. But I can't afford to care as that will just keep me in this troublesome city, especially not right now when I need to go and crash the mob boss meeting.

"Yeah... Well, I have something I need to get to. It is quite urgent, so... I'll see you later?" I end questioningly, and not waiting around to see the results of the stupid words I just said, I resume my walk to my room to change into my Batsuit.

"W-Wait, Ben! I actually have something I want to talk to you about. I have some news, and I-" She starts to say, standing up and turning towards me to keep the conversation going. Getting a bad feeling that she is trying to talk about the mall, and about emotions and our relationship going forward, and desperately wanting to void that, I speed up my gait.

"Sorry, Felicia, but I have a mob boss meeting to drop in on and crash. It's happening soon, and if I don't leave right now, I might miss it, so I will see you later. We can talk then, yeah?" I push her off and open the door to my room. I know that I will probably have to deal with this at a later date, but I am going to push this off as much as possible and just hope all the problems will be solved before I have to confront it.

"Ah, wait, Ben! You don't have to! I have-" I slam the door shut behind me and quickly walk over to the walk-in closet to start changing. I can sense Felicia outside my bedroom door and saying something. Still, I decided to ignore whatever she was talking about entirely and focus on changing as fast as possible and then running the hell out of there.

Used to putting my costume on by now; it doesn't take me more than three minutes to suit up and boot up. Walking over, I open my bedroom window instead of leaving from the balcony like I usually do since I don't want to interact at all with Felicia at the moment. Then I jump out the window, completely ignoring Felicia, who is still outside the door, trying futilely to talk to me.

Falling through the air, I take a minute to just enjoy the wind whipping in a frenzy all around me and just forget about everything. Falling through the air, the gusts of wind rushing past me and barraging my eardrums, and I think about absolutely nothing as I plummet to the ground. And then I spread my arms wide, activating my wings and catching the air behind me, giving me a lot of momentum to level out in midair and start travelling forward, even rising in height as I do so.

Onward to the meeting, I go to put my foot in Wilson Fisk's ass.

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Gliding through the air, I spot my destination in the distance, and it seems I am pretty early. The area is still quiet, with no one in sight, so I should be able to set up and hide in a safe spot before the meeting, preferably inside the building. A lot of thugs that I had collided with in recent times have been talking about this meeting, and all the higher-ups I beat the crap out of all gave the same exact location and time of the mob boss meeting. Which is in a half hour, so I have enough time to properly get myself in the ventilation shafts.

Of course, the fact that they all gave me the same information after a bit of pressing was suspicious as fuck. Why do all the grunts need to know that there is going to be a meeting? Why do some lieutenants know the time and location when they are not even attending? It stunk of a trap, and there was about a fifty percent chance that it was for me. I am not the centre of the universe, and I am aware there are others out there causing him trouble as well.

It is why I am not going straight to the location and am instead positioning myself at a vantage point to watch over it and see exactly who is arriving, if anyone at all is. Trap or not, this is an opportunity. I will watch from afar and make observations, and if I judge it acceptable, then I will crash the party.

Still, I don't just want to rush in and potentially ruin my advantage, and I want to make sure of the situation first and maybe even try to derive some information out of this. I need to make sure Wilson Fisk actually attends this meeting before I start going all gung-ho. Otherwise, I will just be involving myself and making a bunch of enemies that will get in the way of my true goal. I need to remember that I am not an actual superhero, just a pretender using the title to bring down Fisk, and once that is done, I will shed the identity and skip town.

I have even thought about the current situation and how to bring down Fisk in the most effective and time-efficient way. Because when I say bringing down, I am not talking about his empire, his organisation or anything else. I am talking about the man himself, and there is more than one way to bring down a man. Right now, my current plan, which I thought up after finding out about this meeting, is to cut down the man in front of everyone.

Since this is a mob meeting, not a single one of these guys is going to trust anyone else, and that's why instead of all showing up at separate times, these guys are all going to turn up within seconds of each other, almost precisely at the time scheduled. These are bloodthirsty criminals, all looking out for number one and just waiting for the chance to cut down their opposition, keeping an eye out for any little piece of weakness.

This is perfect, as these guys I can use to take down Fisk. My current plan is to wait for them all to get inside and into their meeting, and once they are all seated and Fisk begins the meeting, I will act. I will ambush Fisk and beat the shit out of him in front of all of them, all the while mocking and degrading him. I expect there to be some resistance, but I am going to brute force that shit and keep hammering on him. I will slap him to high heaven and make sure the rest of the mob bosses are watching, witnessing this mighty bull of a man be treated like a little bitch as I break him limb from limb.

And then I will leave. My part is done in this, and they will take care of the rest for me. With Fisk being utterly humiliated in front of all of the mob bosses, he will lose all respect, and the fear everybody had of him will be trained. These hardened criminals will look upon Fisk's beaten form and see opportunity, and being the greedy bastards that they are, they will all start to try and break up his empire and take what they can for themselves.

Of course, I don't expect things t go down that easy, but if there is one thing you can rely on, it is bad people consistently doing bad things. Either way, my beatdown on Fisk will result in him losing standing and taking significant losses in one way or another. I will stick around for a bit to make sure the damage sticks, and he will be so busy trying to keep his empire in one piece that Felicia will be left alone, and with that, my debt will be repaid, and I can leave.

Now, instead of daydreaming about that outcome, it is time to make it into reality. Dropping down to land on the top of a building overlooking the meeting location, I move to the edge and kneel down to get a good view of my target. The meeting place is a run-down building that hasn't seen use in many years, but it is still in much better shape than all of the other surrounding buildings that are health hazards.

I don't know what happened to this place, but my guess is that this was the setting for some big epic Avenger-level battle or something, way above my pay grade, and they raised this area to the ground. The only building around here that is still okay is the one I am currently on. All the others are missing their roofs and have no stable footing. This is the only place with a proper vantage point for the meeting, and- *SPIDER-SENSE*

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*

I spring forward, chucking myself off of the building just fast enough to escape the epicentre of the sudden explosion that erupts on the roof I was just standing on. My spider sense alerted me as soon as the bomb planted on the roof was activated, but whoever planted it didn't want to take any chances, and the second it was remotely activated, it blew up with only three quick beeps sounding out.

I don't manage to escape from the blast fully, only just managing to get away, and the force of the explosion sends me hurtling through the air. My body flips and spins continuously through the air, the centrifugal force building as I am blown away. I can feel myself on a direct collision course with the concrete pavement, and so I automatically reach my hand out and press my middle and ring finger to my palm, forgetting that I no longer use web shooters.

My damn muscle memory and panic costing me precious seconds, I reach to my side and draw out my grapple gun and quickly point it out and go to shoot it to save myself and-

"Bang*

The boom is accompanied by something slamming into my grapple gun, the one that is still in my hand, my hand which is attached to me, and I am spinning way too fast through the air. The projectile blasted the grapple gun out of my hand. Not only that, but the shot hit at the perfect spot and at the perfect time to add to my centrifugal force and send me careening even faster towards the ground. I panic, trying to figure out some way to save myself, going through all my options.

I have no web shooters, my grapple gun is gone, there is nothing anywhere nearby for me to grab onto, and I am going too fast and spinning too much to gain some control over myself and try and land safely. Fuck, my cape is fluttering every which way, and the wind is too much for it to activate and allow me to glide, so that is out.

Whoever just fucked me over is damn deadly. They blew me up and then had the skills to keep a perfect understanding of my entire being as I spun through the air and even managed to fire a shot to rid me of my only means of saving myself, and they even did it in such a way that it propelled me even further to my doom. So what the fuck can I do to protect myself? There has to be something, some way, something in my arsenal that could help me.

I... I've got nothing.

*BOOOOM*

Immense pain courses through my entire body. A stabbing pain was shooting through the left side of my body. The air is forced out of my lungs, and I can feel the metal taste of blood as a fountain of it erupts out of my mouth. Then, everything goes bright white, and I black out for a second, a ringing noise resounding on the inside of my skull.

I force myself back into consciousness, knowing if I let myself drift off now, I would be in a bad position when I eventually woke up if I ever did. So, eyes wide open, I lay there, wholly dazed with no doubt multiple broken bones throughout my entire body, my breath harsh and struggling. I try to calm down and regulate my breathing, but I can't. It hurts, and the more I try to control it, the raspier my breathing gets.

*Clomp* *Clomp* *Clomp*

My alertness shoots up as I hear heavy footsteps coming towards me, my enhanced hearing picking it up even though it is still quite a distance away. I try to look in that direction and jerk my head up, but something jostles my insides, and my head immediately flops down as I grind my teeth to keep from shouting from the intense pain. I can hear the footsteps getting closer, crushing debris underfoot as it nears my location, and I don't want to help them find me faster.

Panicking slightly at the nearing menacing presence, I try and sit up slowly, but the pain spikes again. Whereas before the pain was consistent and throughout my entire body, when I move, there is shocking torturous pain in my abdomen. Instead of moving my whole body this time, I merely lift my neck up and try to analyse the damage done to my body and just what exactly is restricting my movement.

Well, that isn't good, is it... Fucking piece of shit, my name is not Rick Grimes, shit! At the sight of the steel piece of rebar piercing out through the lower left side of my body, my panic shoots up to the limit, and I can feel my blood start pushing even harder, which I know is worse because that means I will lose it as it seeps out of the hole going through the side of my abdomen. Not to mention the unknown assailant rapidly closing in on my position, most likely coming to finish me off.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! I fucked up! I wanted to get this over and done with as soon as possible, afraid of getting closer to Felicia if I stuck around too long. And so I rushed straight into a trap without thinking about it properly. It was suspicious that all those low-level mooks knew about the meeting when it was purely between the bosses. I acted like I was being cautious, but they were playing me, and I was happy to be led around by my own tail. And now I am about to pay the price.

I don't want to die. I didn't even manage to enjoy my life correctly; I purely focused on preparing for it and not actually living it. Reaching down, I grasp both of my hands onto the ridges of the rebar, ignoring my own bright red blood staining it and sticking myself to it firmly for better leverage.

With my hold tight, I start to pull myself up, gritting my teeth hard to stop any noise emitting and alerting my pursuer. Slowly reversing the penetration as I rise, it takes my all not to scream from the hellish pain, each ridge of the bar stabbing into my insides as I rise. The only sweet relief I get is watching the rebar slowly disappear, knowing that I am going to escape and get away-

"AGGGGHH!" I scream out as someone kicks me in my side, making me lose my grip, barraged by the sudden spike of pain that assaults my insides and the following torture as my body slides back down the rebar and my back crashes into the ground.

"Now, now. We can't be having that. Don't be trying to run away before even saying hello." The voice says, and I go to curse them before my breath is caught in my stomach as my eyes lock onto the symbol plastered across my opponent's head.

A Bullseye.

 

Chapter 23– Targeted.

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"Not so tough now, are you, little bat? Did you feel big and tough, scurrying around in the shadows and hiding like a rat? Haha, it should be rat man, yeah?" Bullseye laughs above me, and I feel my blood run cold before the blood leaves my body, seeping through my grievous wounds.

"And nobody likes rats, do they? Disease-carrying rodents, running around spreading illness and ruining everything they touch. Rats need to be exterminated with prejudice, and they need to be stomped out!" He slowly places the bottom of his boot on my chest, just above the rebar and slowly presses down on it, causing me excruciating pain as the ribs of the rebar scrape against my insides. But I don't scream, and I bite my lips to keep from doing so, drawing blood. I can't afford to show pain in front of him, this madman, because he will enjoy my suffering, and he will drag it out.

"Ahhh, there is nothing quite like beating a stupid piece of shit and showing them their place; gives me a real wholesome feeling. You know, it's too bad I killed my mother in high school... She would have loved this. Joking. She wouldn't a' cared." He starts to monologue like the psychopath he is, his foot still pressing down on me. If I wasn't panicking before, I definitely am now that Motherfucking Bullseye is standing above me, and I am at his mercy.

One of the most psychotic fuckers in this universe has me pinned down, and I really don't want to stick around to see what sort of sick things his mind can come up to do with me. My mind is racing, frantically sorting through my options and anything I can do to escape this situation, but I keep hitting a brick wall. He has me stuck down with a piece of metal penetrating me. Not only am I weak from the pain and the blood loss, but my adversary is skilled and lethal, and no half-baked plan is going to stave away his brutality.

"Not talking, eh? Well, that's no fun. Come on, give me a little scream? Can you scream for Uncle Bullseye?" He clamps his hand down onto the rebar and starts to wiggle it around, throwing it to and fro as if it were a joystick or the gearbox of a car, widening the hole in me. Blood leaves my mouth, not only from the internal damage from what he is doing but from my own teeth clamping down on top of my lips to keep from giving this asshole any satisfaction.

"Aww, so you are just going to be boring then? Oh well, you can lead a man to pain, but you can't always make him scream. Let's end this then, shall we? And then I can go and find something more fun to do." Saying so, he presses down even harder onto my torso, making me scrunch my eyes closed from the pain. And then, when the instance of pain diminishes, I open my eyes, and... there is a barrel pointed directly at my face.

"Well, I would love to say it has been fun, but it hasn't. And that was your fault." I am so stunned by the sudden gun pointed in my face that I don't have time to react, and my mind goes blank. I should be doing something, but this life-ending weapon has drawn all my attention, and I find myself unable to move, pinned under its menacing gaze. I have faced guns and bullets before, but always at a distance, and I have never been in such a position before. Dead to rights.

"Bye now." I can see his finger move to pull the trigger, and at that moment, my life flashes before my eyes. And it is so dull. There was no excitement, no fun, just fear and cowering and worrying. I'd wasted my life, and the only bits of fun I had were with Felicia and when I wasn't caring about consequences... I'd wasted it, this life.

As the finger presses on the trigger, I move. I don't want to die. I want to live. So even if I have left the resolve a bit too late, and even if a bullet is about to fly at my disabled form and end me, and my fate is pretty much sealed, I move because I have to. I know it's stupid, and I hate myself for thinking it, but... you only live once. It is a cringe saying, but I have never understood it more than I do right now.

*Bang!*

A bullet is fired and suddenly impacts the side of Bullseye's gun, knocking it out of his hand and flinging it into the distance. I chance a quick glance over in the direction the bullet came from, but all I see is a flash of red before it disappears, and I don't spend any longer thinking about it. Instead, taking the opportunity afforded to me, I smash my hand beneath me, shattering the stone, and then I lunge forward, uncaring of the rebar poking out of me and what damage I might incur in doing so.

Thankfully, it seemed my rash move worked as the concrete broke apart, freeing the piece of rebar and allowing me to be mobile with it still inside me. However, Bullseye had not been idle. Even taking my own actions, I never took my eyes off my enemy. I couldn't afford to when faced with such a deadly opponent and in such a disadvantageous situation, and it is a good job that I did.

Bullseye, aside from quickly eyeing the direction the bullet came from, did not pay further attention to it, and the second that his gun had been blown from his hand, he reached behind him to draw a knife from his back and moved forward to finish me with it instead. He was so fast that there was very nearly no difference between a bullet and the tip of his knife as it sped towards me, however smashing the concrete below me not only freed the rebar but also served to destabilise Bullseye, giving me the time to get to my feet.

"Guh." Knowing that Bullseye works best at a distance and that I would only be shooting myself in the foot if I tried to escape right now, I instead rush forward, tackling him before he can steady himself and knocking him backwards. There is no doubt that even close combat at this moment in time is unwise given my current condition, but it is the lesser of two evils and keeping him off balance is my best shot at escape.

Pressing my advantage, I throw a right hook at his face, hoping to get lucky and end this right now, giving it all my power and not caring if my hit sends his skull flying off into space. Unfortunately, my advantage was not much, and Bullseye tilted back, narrowly avoiding my attack, more better described as using minimal effort to avoid it. He brings his knife down at me, hoping to plunge it into my neck, but I block his forearm with my own, forestalling that manoeuvre. Nonplussed, he simply drops the knife and grabs it with his other hand, already in the motion of sinking it into my gut.

I know from our previous exchange that I am not doing so well right now, given simply by the fact that when mine and his forearms collided, my own very nearly gave way. I had lost too much blood, and powers or not, blood loss will kill you, and right now, I am feeling its effect. My abilities might make me strong, agile and able to take a bit more of a beating than others, but my durability is not that good, as is showcased right now.

I can not afford a long, drawn-out exchange right now as I will just continually get weaker as the fight goes on before inevitably falling to his blade, even if I do have some guardian angel looking over me. I need to end this now, but that will be hard to accomplish against a man as skilled as Bullseye. Which means I am going to have to get a little outside of the box and take some big risks; otherwise, I am going to die here. Go big or go home.

Instead of blocking his attack, I move my torso in such a way that his knife would be blocked by something other than my hand. It was risky and had a significant chance of failing, given the small surface I was working with, but I had to take my chances. As his knife point hit the flat end of the rebar, shaking my insides, my right hand was free to lash out and punch him straight in the face, sending him flying tail over teakettle.

Preparing to act quickly to use this opportunity, I reach my hand behind me to get something from my utility belt. Still, before I can, I realise that I had underestimated my opponent as well as underestimated just how bad I am faring at the moment. A punch with all my power that would usually crush boulders only served to bruise and blow Bullseye away, and that damage wasn't even that bad as he simply flipped and landed on his feet. Instead of securing an advantage for myself, I had given my opponent his best opportunity, and with distance, he would prove to be more lethal than ever.

Thinking quickly, I see Bullseye reaching for another weapon, presumably a projectile to kill me with, and so I make a decision, a very rash one that would probably prove to be very painful in the long run. Panicking and knowing that I could be dead within a second, I take the hand behind my back and make a fist with it. And then, performing the most reckless move I ever have, I back fist the end of the rebar behind my back, causing blood to spew from my mouth as it rockets out of my stomach and heads directly on a collision course with Bullseye.

Not caring enough to see the result of my haphazard attack, I immediately reach into my utility belt and toss out all my smoke grenades in all directions, and then I bolt away and run for my life. Feeling the gaping hole in my side, I regret my reckless action and feel incredibly stupid since I am very likely to die with such an injury, but put on the spot, I made a decision, a bad one, but it still counts.

Moving fast, I know that my spider powers will only keep me going for so long, and I need to get serious medical attention, but I can't just show up at a hospital or something. Questions will be asked, and I don't exactly have a spare change of clothes, so as I sprint, I automatical run in the direction of home. We have a medkit at home that is fully stocked, Felicia likes to be prepared, so my powers should keep me going till I can get there and patch myself up and then rely on my power's improved healing to do the rest.

Still, to hold me over for the time being, I reach once more into my utility belt and pull out an injection-like device which I hold over my wound. Using it, a substance quickly comes out to seal over my injury and solidify to keep my blood from spilling out, and I promptly apply it to the hole on the other side as well.

This solution is made using the same formula used for my spider web-swinging but modified to have a much bigger consistency to not allow any holes and to be tough and unremovable. Unfortunately, the downside to this is that the solution will only last for a while before dissolving. This is because I had not gotten around to solving all its kinks. It will do for now, but my wounds need to be appropriately treated, and this is just a stopgap.

Reaching far enough, I pull out my grapple gun, but instead of using it to shoot up into the sky, I use it to propel myself forward parallel to the ground since I would be making myself an easy target if I tried to start gliding. Then, using my grapple gun, I hasten my pace home, trying to manoeuvre myself between as many buildings and obstacles as possible to give myself some cover in case Bullseye is following. However, given the fact that there have been no gunshots or pursuit after I left, either my efforts to cover my tracks have proven fruitful, or the rebar I shot out of myself actually injured him and prevented him from giving chase.

Feeling that I am far away enough now and uncaring about any possible consequences given the fact I have a fucking two-inch wide hole in me, profusely leaking my life essence, I shoot up into the air and start to glide. Then, thankful that the substance is keeping my insides inside, I can afford to go even faster and throw caution to the wind to get back as soon as possible.

I am not going to die. Not anytime soon, definitely not today.

------------------------------------

Sitting at home, trying to distract myself from all the shit that has been barraging me lately, I keep looking at the television. But no matter how much I try, I can't bring myself to focus on whatever nonsense is being broadcasted right now, more troubled by thoughts of my current problems. Problems, past, present and future, because I just can't catch a break. When one thing seems to be resolved, another pops up to bite me in the ass, and I am constantly just rolling with the punches.

When I was a girl, my father was taken away and arrested. Everyone knew, and instead of being the popular spoiled princess I was, they turned on me like a pack of wolves. It was then I realised that people only care about themselves, and if they could get a sliver of cake for rolling over on you, then they would use a steamroller. The older I got, the older I realised you have to look out for yourself and your family if they deserve it. That's what my father did.

People reviled him, insulted him and called him the scum of the earth, but he was just doing what the rest of them were, except better. Instead of using roundabout methods like the law, my father took it directly and used it to support his family and give us everything we wanted. And they vilify him because they were all chickenshit to do it themselves, cowards.

With my epiphany, I grew up, and I became just like my daddy, and then they all wanted me again. When you are on top of the world, when you are popular, they all want to be in your shadow, but that is just so that they can be in the optimal position to drag you down and try to take your spot in the light. It was foolish, but I let my guard down. I started to trust people, and the things my mother, a lawyer, was telling me wormed their way into my head.

I started to think the world wasn't so bleak that maybe I was only looking at the dark side and not the light. That was a mistake. In college, I let people in, and I had friends that I cared about. I started to trust people. I trusted a guy, I liked him, and he took advantage of that. I shouldn't have let anyone in because all they want to do is use you. After that, I grew angry, so I tracked down the man who trained my father and made him teach me.

I was so angry, so furious. I worked my bones brittle, I didn't rest because I wanted to kill him, but I also wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of ruining my life. I was going to kill him in the most painful way possible and get my revenge, and then I would move on with my life and forget about him entirely.

He died. The same day I was on my way to kill him, the fucking bastard was run over by a car. He died in the middle of the street, getting away with what he did for me and not truly paying for it. Fate played a cruel trick on me and left me with all this frustration and nowhere for it to go. With nothing left to do, I moved on, and I never let my guard down again. I learnt my lesson correctly this time, and I was never going to forget it. Look out for yourself above all else, take what you want and don't care who it hurts because if you don't take it first, someone else will.

I haven't forgotten those lessons, and I never will. But it becomes a bit more complex and complicated when the thing you want is another living, breathing human being. I didn't mean for it to start out this way. I was just doing what I always had. When I first met Ben, I thought he was Spider-Man, given that he was dressed as him. And since I always knew exactly how to deal with him, I acted as I usually would. But, since Spider-Man is so gullible and naive, it is actually sweet, not hard to lay on a bit of the charm and get away scot-free.

But then this one stole my hard-earned spoils and then ran away, which was when I got the inkling that he was different somehow. A clone of all things, it would not have been my first guess. But seeing him, I realised that I could use him and so easily at that. He was isolated and alone, left with nothing and nowhere to go. He was looking for some direction for anyone because he was suddenly left out in the cold in an unfamiliar world. Even with his powers, loneliness and purposelessness can be damming.

So I helped myself and, in a way, helped him as well. I could use a helper for some of the more significant scores as well as someone to be a scapegoat in case I ever needed it. It took some work, and he even quickly clocked on to what I wanted, but I got there eventually. Because he also followed my ideology, he was also looking out for himself, and in that situation, that meant sticking with me and becoming a thief to survive. It was going well. I even stopped with my seduction because we got along and had fun, but I never let my guard down, but then it took a turn at Fisk's warehouse.

I never told Ben, but I was there to steal something priceless even Fisk was unaware he had in storage, and I did. But then Ben burnt down the warehouse, and I knew I had to lay low. It didn't matter, however, as it was only a short time later that Fisk showed up, having taken receipt of the goods damaged in the warehouse fire and realised what he had in stock. He showed up and took it back and then, as reparation, ordered me to work for him. Feeling a bit sad but knowing this is what I kept Ben around for, I offered him up as a scapegoat, but Fisk wasn't dumb and refused.

What I didn't count on was Ben listening in, apparently at the ready to protect me if I needed it and got the whole show up close. It hurt, for some reason, that he didn't trust me anymore. Knowing that I couldn't use him anymore, I gave him the identification I had prepared for him, something I had planned to give him as a present to get him to trust me even more. It was useless now, and so I gave it to him and prepared for him to leave.

But he didn't. He stayed for some reason that was beyond me. He chose to stay and help this villainous woman that just wanted to use him and take him for all he had. The tears I cried after that were real; I don't even know why I was crying. I felt terrible, especially when he started to come home injured from his night out as 'Batman', which he was only doing to help me.

I started working extra hard for Fisk, wanting to finish all the jobs he gave me until there were none left so Ben wouldn't have to keep hurting himself. But then I realised without Fisk, Ben would have no reason to stay and would go, which I didn't want, and not even because I wanted to use him anymore. Especially after that trip to the mall, something changed, and I am not sure how to feel about it.

I didn't feel particularly averse to working for Fisk anyway, and I would be happy as long as I was paid, and as long as I did the jobs, he will leave my family alone. This is why I started to do my jobs slower because the faster I run out of jobs Fisk wants me to do, the quicker Ben will leave.

Even though I am working to keep Ben here, I am not quite sure how to handle him and move forward. I can't bring myself to trust him fully, and I don't think I will ever trust anyone, but I want him all the same. It isn't love; I don't believe so. I am not even sure if I am capable of that anymore. But I want him. However, I know I can only have him if I let him in, and I can't bring myself to do that.

Quite a problem and I don't know how to handle it, so I have just been avoiding it. Instead, I go out and do all the jobs that I couldn't when I was working with Ben to distract myself, finding it easier to waste time as Black Cat. The costume empowers me. It is always so calm and straightforward being the Black Cat, though a new addition to my outfit in the form of the cat's paw earing Ben got me is always around.

Every time I feel it jump and skim against my neck, I think about Ben, and all it does is confuse me. I know it would be better if I ditched the thing and just chucked it in a draw somewhere, but I can't bring myself to do it. Instead, I have worn it ever since he gave it to me. It just feels right in my ear: the weight, its sway, everything.

"Haaah." Looking to my left out of the balcony window and to the bright moon, I couldn't help but sigh. Because as if things were not worse enough, I had received some news from Fisk in regard to my current employment and my future from now on with him. Honestly, I was worried after stealing that ancient tablet thing for him that it would stop because then Ben would have no reason to stay here.

Still, I tried to push past that and tell him earlier about the news, but he blew me off and pushed past me and rushed away off to some dangerous, stupid thing which he is only doing for me. The thought makes me want him even more. The fact he is out there kicking in some poor fuckers teeth for me makes me hot under the collar.

Watching the lone bird flapping its wings in the distance with the moon as its backdrop, I make my decision. As much as I want him, I know in the end, it will just end in disappointment and one of us trying to kill the other. I am better alone, and I don't work well in a group. So I will just tell him that Fisk- why is the bird getting bigger."

*Crash*

"H-Hey, Felicia..." Ben says, crashing through the glass railing onto the balcony, unsteady on his feet and with way too much blood pouring out of him. He wobbles and then slips on a shard of glass, tilting back and-

"BEN!" I bolt up and dash towards him, terrified.

"Oh, b-bye, Felicia." He falls, and I jump forward to catch him, glad that I am still wearing my enhanced suit with servos inside, increasing my abilities. It allows me to catch his hand, saving him from certain death.

Pulling him back up onto the balcony, I get a good look at his injuries. Now it is time to save him from his looming death.

 

Chapter 24– I Will Survive.

------------------------------------

Ahh, what the hell?

I wake up, but I can't open my eyes.

Hmm, I am so tired.

I am at that point where you wake up but have yet to open your eyes, and so you just want to snuggle deeper into your covers and go back to sleep.

Let's just sleep a little longer. I literally can't get up. So I go to turn, to snuggle deeper into my be-.

"Aghh!" An intense pain erupts in my side, and I flail in panic and-

"Ugh." I muffle out a groan against the hardwood floor pressed against my face. It turns out I was either on the sofa or the very edge of my bed because when I turned and agitated my stomach, I ended up falling face-first into the ground. Actually, why the hell does my stomach actually hurt?

Let's see, I had gathered information from a bunch of assholes about a meeting, so I was preparing to go. But then, when I got home, Felecia tried to talk to me, so I avoided her and made a tactical retreat. And then I arrived near the meeting spot when- I got blown up.

"Ben!" Someone shouts, but I don't pay any attention, more distraught by the rapid barrage of memories assaulting my eyes, informing me of the immensity of the dire straights I was in. That fucking Bullseye bastard got the jump on me and then proceeded to kick me while I was down and had a piece of metal going through me. I would have died there, no doubt about it.

"Why the hell are you on the floor? You need to rest and recover. Just stay here, and I will take care of anything." So the feminine voice says as they help me up and move me to lay back on the sofa, but again I am more distracted by worrying thoughts. I would have died right then and there, and I don't think anybody would have missed me, and I wouldn't have even had a funeral.

It was only because of the bullet shooting the gun out of Bullseye's hand that I had the opportunity to fight back and escape. The only thing I saw from that direction was a flash of red, even with my enhanced vision, showing just how far whoever that was took the shot from. Thank you, my red angel, you have given me more time, and I am not going to waste it. I don't know who they were or why they were there, or even their intentions towards me, but they saved me, and I won't forget that.

"BEN!" The shout brings me out of my fugue, and I look up from my laid-back position to see Felecia hovering over me, her face worried, probably because I wasn't responding to anything she was saying, which might have made her fear that my head was actually not okay since I might have suffered some brain damage. Thankfully, I have not... I think. I was just bifurcated by a quarter—no big deal.

"Not so loud, geez. I'm injured. Don't you know you are supposed to be gentle with the infirm?" I say, lightly joking to wipe that weird, worried look off of her face. But, seriously, it is creeping me out. Not aesthetically, I quite like that look on her face, but it just seems too unnatural. I have literally never seen such an expression or anything like it on her face before. It is usually a seductive, lazy or bored expression, so this is new and is making me feel off.

"Shut up, you idiot! You would be dead right now. What the hell did you do? If you got here any later, you would be dead!" She says, not getting the message and continuing on the grim theme, plus she is angry now, which is an emotion on her face that I am more familiar with. Still, I am really surprised and glad to be alive. I really thought that was the end.

"Oh wow, you patched me up? Thank you, you must be an amazing medic or something because I really thought I was a goner." Seriously, I was bleeding out, and I am pretty sure that I ran out of the adhesive seal to keep my blood inside. I don't even remember getting home, losing a bit of my consciousness while flying through the air. I vaguely remember landing home and then giving someone a greeting before suddenly feeling a great rush of air, and that was it.

"Are you kidding me? I didn't do shit. I just wrapped you up the best I could and was going to try and get you to doctors, but then..." She hesitates, and why wouldn't she? I mean, my injuries were more than life-threatening, and I was most definitely on my deathbed. She should have definitely taken me to the hospital, but she didn't. And somehow, I am still alive, and I don't feel like I have a hole inside of me.

"And then? Why didn't you take me to a hospital? And why am I not dead?" I ask, very curious. I am not accusing her or anything because I am clearly alright and alive, so everything worked out. But why? Why am I okay, and how did Felecia do it?

"I... I heard a voice?" She says, clearly finding it ludicrous herself though I am instantly on guard hearing that. Hearing voices could mean you are crazy, but we live in a crazy world, so it is equally- no, actually, more than- likely that it was another person or spirit or something talking to her. Telepathy is a worrying thought, purely because it is a very insane invasion of privacy with not a lot of defences for it.

"A voice? Okay, and what did this voice say? What kind of voice was it?" When it comes to matters of the mind and people that like to fuck with it, you are almost spoiled for choice in the Marvel universe. Pretty much every asshole and their grandmother has some method to mess with the mind, but there are a few big contenders. Namely the mutants, Charles Xavier, Emma Frost and a few other fuckers, including that rapey mutant fucker whose name I have forgotten. Not that purple guy; that is mind control, not telepathy. Well, whoever it is, it is a big problem.

"It- It was an old women's voice. Very old, like over a hundred, brittle, on the edge of death old. She told me not to take you to the hospital and that everything would be fine and you would live." That does not ring any bells. I have no recollection of any telepathists that are that old and female, which means I am probably dealing with an unknown, which is even more worrying since I don't know what to expect or prepare for.

"And you just listened to her? The random voice in your head?" Honestly, I would find it very hard to start trusting a random voice in my head, especially in such a dire situation where every moment counts. I was dying, bleeding out, and my only hope for survival would be the hospital, and yet there was this utterly unknown voice telling her to do nothing and it would be fine. No way anybody would just go along with that. They would be incredibly dumb if they did.

"She knew about you, Ben. Like, everything about you. She talked about your future, your destiny, and she told me you would live. But, not just that, she showed me things, things that could not possibly be faked." Okay, this is legitimately weirding me out now. Speaking into someone's mind is one thing, but projecting the type of things Felecia is talking about is a lot different.

"And what exactly did she show you? What convinced you to listen to her and trust that I would be okay?"I do have concerns and worries, but I am also fine and alive. A bit bruised, but all my organs are inside me, and the blood is contained to the inside of my body. So she told the truth and knew I would be fine, either through expertise in biology and science using a sample to determine my powers or something more mystical like seeing the future, which isn't out of the question.

"She- She showed me a lot, things I couldn't believe and things that made no sense, but I just knew them to be true. I-It wasn't anything about you. It was about me so that she could gain my trust. She told me some things that I didn't know before, but they are true. I checked afterwards. I- I can't elaborate, but just know I was assured that you would be fine." She says nervously, understanding that her answer is basically dogshit with nothing to back it up or serve as proof. But I will leave it for now, things worked out, and there is nothing more I can get from her.

Still, from what she has said, I really don't have a clue just who it was that apparently knew about me, including my future and the capabilities of my body, because I had no clue that I could survive and heal from that. Actually, I was pretty sure that I couldn't, given my past experiences with the original Spider-Man, at least, that was according to memories before the absurd clone situation. So I guess I have changed, at least somewhat, if I can do this because I know other Peter can't do this.

Nobody knew I was capable of this, and yet someone did, enough so that they could rest assured that I would live without the aid of the hospital. Putting it all together, I can't disregard the option that this might not be a mutant and might actually be a very skilled mage, which might explain some of the things Felecia has seen that she does not want to share. It could be a mage and a mutant. The two aren't exclusive, after all.

"Alright, fine. I understand. And I am clearly fine, so I guess it is better not to look a gift horse in the mouth." Sighing, I accept her refusal to say anymore. I sit up on the sofa, Felecia hovering around me with a concerned look on her face, worried that I am doing too much too early. I am, too, because my body definitely hurts, but nowhere near the levels of pain it reached last night. Plus, I am curious. Just how good is my apparent healing factor? How much have I healed from that injury?

"Alright, let's look at the damage. Say, how long was I out?" I ask, reaching down to pull on the bloody bandages wrapped around my midsection to see if there is still a hole there. But before I can peel it away, Felecia grabs me by the shoulder and starts to scream at me.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!? DO YOU WANT TO KILL YOURSELF!?" She screams at me, shaking me profusely, not realising what she is doing could also seriously exacerbate my injuries. What she was doing was actually hurting me, while what I wanted to do was only to take a peek at my wounds. Finally, having enough of it, I reach out and grab both her arms by the wrist, stopping her from shaking me.

"Hold your horses, Felecia. What you are doing is what is going to kill me. All I want to do is get a good look at my injuries to see how bad it is and if there is anything I need to do to aid my recovery. Okay?" I say, spelling it out clearly for her. And with my message across, she lowers her hands, her expression downcast after realising what she was doing. And so I get back to looking at my injuries, and I wonder how big the hole is now.

"You were out for about fifteen hours or so. I wasn't really keeping count." Felecia helpfully supplies, going along with me, which I appreciate. I give her a nod to show that I heard her before reaching down again to my bandages which, now that I touch them, I realise they are stained with dry blood, which is good because it isn't fresh blood, so that bodes well for me.

Gripping the edges, I pull it away from my body and look down into that gap, and I refrain from showing any emotion, keeping my face neutral to keep from revealing anything to Felecia. Right now, I am glad that I have excellent vision because I can manage to see my wounds with the current light, and I don't have to shine a light down there, which would allow Felecia to see it as well. It is not a nice sight down there.

Looking past all the dry blood is problematic since there is just so much of it, but aside from that, I know precisely the spot where the penetration occurred, and it is unsightly. The flesh there is marred and looks to be seriously burnt and scarred, it seems like a massive scab that could easily be poked and ripped in two, and I am sure it is just the same on the back. Though I don't think that hole is there anymore, or at least not quite as big, I shouldn't aggravate it or do anything too strenuous.

"So, how is it?" Felecia asks as I move my bandages back into place, tightening them and securing them into place but making sure not to do it too tight as that might irritate the wounds. I don't know, and I am not a medic or doctor, am I? I have no clue about proper medical care and techniques. Even looking down at my wound, I can't tell whether its current condition is good or bad, just that it is better than it was before, which is good enough for me.

"Fine, though I don't think I will be going out anytime soon. Especially not in my BDSM outfit, though I would still like to see you in yours." I say, trying to skirt by the topic. And I do so quite nicely by using euphemisms for our super suits, which does well to reset her back into her normal mood, which is a mix between sultry and bored.

"Alright, I will be sure to do enough BDSM'ing for the both of us. Now, let's get you into your own bed. I am sure that this sofa isn't comfortable, but I wasn't comfortable moving you before I knew you were okay." Saying so, she lent me her hand, which I took and used to stand up, the blanket that was covering me before dropping down. Standing up, I wobble for a moment, still not stable though Felecia helps and grabs my shoulders, steadying me with her two hands.

And then, wanting to get a good look at my wounds, her gaze moves from my face and slowly pans down to look at my torso. But when her face continues to stare in that direction, I also glance down and spot my little buddy hanging freely, swaying with the wind. I look back up, and my eyes meet hers before she averts her gaze and glances o the side, her face remaining neutral.

"I- You weren't wearing underwear when I got you out of your suit, and I wasn't thinking at the time, so I just did your bandages and put a blanket on you. You should probably grab it and wrap it around you." She explains, not wanting me to come to some other conclusion.

"Yeah, my outfit is quite form-fitting, and underwear gets in the way, so I forgo it. As for the blanket, well, I can't bend down and grab it, so you can if you want to. But given my limited range of mobility, you would also have to wrap it around me. So go ahead if my nudity makes you uncomfortable. As for me, well, you have seen it now, and I am not really bothered by it. On the contrary, I am quite proud of it, actually." So I say, smirking at her to see what she decides to do, and she obviously sees I am getting pleasure from the situation.

"Whatever, let's go." She says, pulling my arm over her shoulder and holding it in place, and then putting hers around me to support my back and then pulling me into her. My naked side held tightly against hers, which could easily make my excitable little guy perk up, so I avoided thinking about it. However, it is pretty hard since she is wearing a thin top that cuts off at the midriff and some shorts.

"Ohh, man. It hurts a bit, but way less than you would think after having a hole inside of you. I guess my powers are a lot more potent than I thought to heal this much." So I say as we start to walk towards my room, Felecia supporting me and pulling me along with me, just holding on to her as we go. I do stumble slightly, forcing me to use my other hand to grab onto Felecia's left shoulder, basically giving her a half-impromptu hug.

"Still a bit dizzy though and quite lightheaded. I think we might be moving too fast." I say because my head is spinning a bit, and though I would definitely like to go back to the previous position, given that my third leg is now brushing up against her leg, I can't because holding onto her is the only thing keeping me up right now. I really want to go back to sleep.

"That would probably be the painkillers and drugs I gave. I might not have taken you to the hospital, but I did use everything I had here to help you. But that brings us to another topic. Just how did you end up in such a state." Felicia very kindly ignores my unintended grinding and inappropriate position and continues to walk me to my room. I also ignore it because I don't have the luxury to appreciate it right now, my eyelids working very hard to stay awake on account of the drugs in my system. I guess I was able to ignore it and brute force past it when I awoke, but I am crashing now.

"Oh yeah, that... It was Fisk. The bastard might be fat, but his brain is rock-hard muscle. Which is the opposite of how a good optimal brain is since it should be wet... So I guess Fiss has a wet soggy brain..." I answer her, though my head is starting to feel very muddy. Damn that fat bastard, when I get him, I am going to skin him and use the layers of his fat to make a fucking coat for myself.

"Ben. You are getting off track. Who did this to you? Are they going to be gunning for you again?" Felecia says calmly in my ear, finally getting me towards my room and letting me go for a second to start opening it. I brace myself using my hand on the side of the wall as she does so, my hand slipping slightly, but I manage to catch myself.

"Yeah, yeah. Uh, right, Fiss laid a trap, and I went up into it. Um, Bullseye ambushed me with a bomb, and I got fucccckkkked. Right, right here." I take my hand off the wall to point at the point of penetration, forgetting I was using it to hold myself up. I nearly slipt and fell, but thankfully Felecia had already got my door open and grabbed me before I could.

"Ah, thanks... Anyway, after that, I fought a bit and then ran away. Nigerundayooo... Haha, Jojo." I loved that series. So fucking funny and serious at the same time. Damn, I never got to see the end of Stone Ocean. I need to check on the state of the shows and entertainment here. I have been too worried to enjoy myself properly. I have a lot of stuff to catch up on.

"Right, Jojo is pretty great. Anyway, here we are. Let's get you into bed." Felecia, a girl I like even more now that I know she is as cultured as me, helps me to my bed and sits me down on it. Before moving to help me get into bed properly, she was really lovely. Actually, why was I even trying to avoid her before?

"So... What did you want to tell me earlier, Felecia?" I say as she moves the cover and helps me inside. Damn, it is really comfy. So soft, so nice...

"Right, well. Uh, what I wanted to tell you was that Fisk had one final task for me, and I-"

------------------------------------

"-finished it, so you don't need to do this stuff anymore. You don't need to keep going out there and fighting all the time. There is no need. You don't have to be Batman anymore, you-" I try and get it all out before I decide not to because I know if I tell him, then I know he will go. But I think it is better to rip the band-aid off now when it is just a tiny cut rather than have him hang around and have it forcibly peeled off when it is a gash. Except, it seems I was not quick enough, and the bandaid is still there.

"-you are asleep... haah." Sighing, I feel let down. I worked myself and bolstered my courage and everything, and I told him, and he was fucking asleep. God damn it, Felecia, you really like to mess things up, don't you. All you had to do was tell him and get it over with, and then you could both move on with your lives. Well, I guess it is his fault as well for being so injured. Whatever, I will tell him tomorrow.

Saying so, I go to stand, having sat down on the side of the bed when laying Ben to rest. However, I find myself unable to. Ben is still gripping my arm tightly, his hand encircled around my wrist and holding on tight. Trying to be gentle and not wake him up, I gently try to pull myself free, and when that doesn't work, I use my free hand to try and pry his fingers open, but they refuse to budge.

For a guy that was almost very close to death, his grip is like a vice, refusing to let go. Having had enough and not caring about waking Ben up right now since he was conked out with all the drugs, I start to yank my arm to free myself. I give that up when it starts to hurt my arm, and Ben isn't even slightly disturbed, so I resort to the tried and true method.

"BEN, WAKE UP!" I punctuate my words with a couple of rapid slaps to the face, not enough to hurt but definitely enough to disturb his sleep and wake him up. Which, thankfully, he does, filling me with relief. Though that soon turns to despair when I see that his eyes are glazed, and there is a dopey smile on his face. I guess those drugs are really kicking in now.

"H-Heyyy, Felecia... what are you doing here? And you look really good as well, you know, you look really pretty." He spaces out and starts to say, making me roll my eyes as he starts hitting on me. But, of course, I am used to intoxicated men hitting on me, and they are easy targets, after all, so I don't pay it any mind.

"Yeah, well, I am sure every boy over twelve is obsessed with the Black Cat. So, you're nothing special. Guys just like a bad girl. Now, do you mind letting go of me?" I say, going along with him to placate and get him to listen before asking him to release me. As I said before, I have dealt with people out of their heads a few times, and you have to give a little to get a little if you want them to listen to you.

"W-Who- Who is talking about the Black Cat? I-I am talking about you, Felecia... right now. You are beautiful, like... I really like you. I- I could see myself marrying you, you know, somewhere down the line. Having a bunch of super babies, b-but, what would we name them?" I- my brain shuts down, hearing him speak... I- what?

"We, we could keep the cat theme going. So, i-if it's a girl, then Felicity, and if it's a boy, then F-Felix. Huh, nice, right?" Th-This guy must be seriously out of his mind to be talking about this. Did I give him too much? No, that doesn't matter. I- I need to stop him talking about this stuff now.

"Uh, yeah, whatever. Anyway, I wanted to tell you. Fisk gave me my-" I say, trying to tell him that I don't work for Fisk anymore. But, once again, people out of their minds work on their own schedule, and so he cuts me off.

"Yeah, Yeah. Fisk... Don't worry, don't worry, Felecia. I will get him for you, and then you will be free, and I can go. B-But, I will miss you, Felecia. That dry look on your face when you think someone is being stupid... that smirk when you feel like you have gotten one over someone... the smile on your face when you win at Mario Kart. S-Sometime I lose on purpose, just to- to... see... it." He falls asleep, leaving me in shocked silence. I- I don't know what to do...

He- He... He is still holding my wrist...

 

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