Chapter 1: It is Hot as Hell in this Warehouse— IS THAT THE WINTER SOLDIER?!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Peter Parker was doing great! Honestly! He was amazingly well adjusted and totally wasn’t throwing himself into crime-fighting in a desperate attempt to keep himself from breaking. Him going out as Spider-Man every day and night regardless of how beat-up he was had nothing to do with trying to keep himself together with the only constant he had left. No siree, because Peter was doing fine! Just ask anyone!
…Maybe don’t do that. No one would be able to answer anyway. They wouldn’t even know who Peter was.
Because Peter Parker didn’t exist.
The thought knocked the wind out of him every time he remembered.
Peter Parker didn’t exist.
There were no records, no photos, and most the time it felt like there was no space in the universe for him. But here he was. He existed because he was alive, but not in any other way. Doctor Strange’s spell worked much more thoroughly than Peter thought possible. Every single memory of him was wiped. Every single photo of him was altered. Every single document and piece of paperwork with his name had disappeared. It felt like his place in the world had vanished.
It was as if there was something pressing into him every second he was still breathing. A sensation of wrongness that weighed heavy. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the spell, or because he was just so incredibly tired.
He was tired of having to wake up in the morning and know that there was no one who cared. Tired of the constant and relentless pressure from his own mind, telling him that he was cursed, telling him that everything would have been better if he had never been born. That all his loved ones would have been happy if he never existed in the first place.
And more than all of that, he was tired of surviving.
It had only been two months since the whole multiverse ordeal, and he wasn’t sure if he could keep going at this rate. He didn’t think he wanted to die (no matter how many times he wished his web-shooters would fail as he swung) but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to live. He was just so incredibly tired of trying to live. He knew life wasn’t easy, that there were people out there in much worse situations. The world had basically collapsed after The Blip. Everyone was scared and scrambling to try and make ends meet, and everyone was struggling just to keep themselves afloat.
But that didn’t mean Peter wasn’t cracking under the weight of it all.
Peter barely had a roof over his head. He was living in a glorified prison cell, with barely running water and too much mold along the floor and walls. He had been bouncing between jobs for the past two months, with every single place either rejecting his application, or firing him within the first week. So, to keep his mind off of everything, he had been prioritizing Spider-Man over literally everything else in his life, because he has to be the one to protect this city. He had a responsibility to keep the people of Queens safe, even if it meant Peter Parker had to be erased.
God, Peter Parker was erased.
This probably wasn’t the best place to be thinking about all this, but whatever. He could multi-task between a stakeout and his inner turmoil. He was situated on the edge of a building (as always), trying to listen in on the conversation happening in a warehouse across from him.
He had been following a group of men in a white van (wow, so original guys) who had set off his spider sense. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but he had a feeling that something big was going to happen. He was not excited about this inevitable battle. He didn’t get a chance to eat much more than a chili dog given to him earlier on his patrol, which was burned almost immediately as some bruised ribs healed.
He’d be fine. Probably. He has a boatload of experience to keep him from getting too hurt.
He leaned further over the edge of the building in an attempt to hear any sort of conversation, but the only thing he could make out was the sound of some type of machine and the flowing of…something. It sounded too goopy to be water, but there wasn’t any hissing or bubbling of acids. Peter didn’t have the tech to check what it could be. Karen didn’t respond to him and he had no access to any of the other gadgets Stark made. Peter was barely able to recover the first suit Mr. Stark gave him, and it didn’t have any of the functions his later models had. Not even a heater (which Peter would kill for in mid January).
Peter, again, shoved those thoughts away and swung to the roof of the warehouse. As he got closer, he could make out more of what was being said. He counted about 50 people inside as he honed into a conversation between three people, near the sound of the machine.
“–not sure if it will do anything,”
“And we can’t exactly test it either. We’re not even sure what this stuff is, let alone if it could really–”
“I know, but think about it. We could just take someone and dunk them by their ankle. If their skin melts off then we don’t use it. If they get through, then so can we”
Spider-Man tensed as the third man spoke up. Okay, so this group was kidnapping people. The van wasn't just for aesthetics. Peter started crawling towards a side window, and as he was pulling the glass up, heard the distant rumbling of a motorcycle approaching. Great, they had backup of some sort coming. It wouldn't deter him much, but it was one or two more people to deal with.
No one noticed as he slid inside, so he started skittering towards the ceiling, trying to get a look at the layout of the place. There were desks set up in rows along the middle of the warehouse, some of which even had potted plants and colored sticky notes on them. It looked like an office space for kidnappers, which might not actually be that far from the truth.
But the more interesting part of the setup was a 8-foot tall vat of Nickelodeon slime pressed against the wall. It looked like a straight up cartoon, hooked up to big ass tubes and with the top not even covered. It was connected to a massive machine with colorful blinking lights and dials. Honestly, what was Peter's life? He was in a warehouse at one in the morning on a Thursday night, about to fight a bunch of cartoon villain goons as a way to keep himself from thinking of his rapidly crumbling mental state.
Peter could hear the motorcycle getting closer. It was probably time for him to move.
He fired off three webs, trapping the people he overheard before where they stood. He announces his presence with a flip to the ground and an attempt at a quippy introduction.
“Whatcha doing? Up to no good from the looks of it,” jeez, that was bad. Where had all his humor gone? It’s like he died and came back without his one-liners.
…Well, he did die at some point, and it sure felt like he died two months ago. Maybe he did die on the Statue of Liberty. Or maybe he died when that train ran him over. Or when he was stuck under that building. Wow, he almost dies a lot. Maybe this was his eternal punishment for hurting so many people in his life. Maybe–
“Fuck! It’s Spider-Man! Open fire!”
Right, he’s in the middle of a fight. Time to dodge a barrage of bullets. God he was tired. He couldn’t even find something to make a joke about.
He threw himself under one of the desks as his spider sense lit his skin on fire. He started to throw webs out from his hiding spot, gunking up the barrels of the guns and sticking a few of the gunmen to the wall.
Their backup was about 30 seconds away. He had to move fast.
He leaped out from under the desk and started moving. He ducked and dodged as the group shot at him, taking down most of them with some well thrown punches, along with some well placed webs. He had made his way through about half of the people when the warehouse door was kicked in. His spider senses screamed as the chaos amplified and the sound of shooting ramped up, but then his sense died down almost immediately. Peter landed in a crouch on the stomach of one of the gunmen as he looked to the door and saw–
Oh fuck, that’s Sargent Barnes
Oh fuck, that’s tHE WINTER SOLDIER
OH FUCK THAT’S BASICALLY AN AVENGER
Peter froze, his mind running a mile a minute as he questioned what James Buchanan Barnes could be doing here. Was whatever Peter stumbled into big enough to be an international issue? Or had he come here to talk to Spider-Man? Was he here to ask why Peter wasn’t there to help New York during the end of the Flag Smashers incident? Oh god, what if he’s here to fight Spider-Man as revenge for the whole Germany thing? Or what if he remembered Peter? He might be more sensitive to memory erasing and–
Get your head in the game, Parker!
Right, middle of a fight, catastrophize later. Peter shook his head and started shooting webs as James Fucking Barnes was taking people down left and right. It barely took a minute until everyone in the warehouse was either bound or unconscious. Then, after everything had quieted down, Mr? Sargent? Barnes turned his attention toward Peter and his expression shifted into something Peter couldn’t quite place.
“What’re you doing here, kid?”
“Oh, uh, I just—well Mr. Sargent Barnes, I saw this really suspicious van and it gave me bad vibes. So I followed it and that led me here, and then I heard some of them talk about kidnapping people and I think experimenting on them, so I started taking them down, and then you showed up and that’s honestly all I know about this situation.” Wow, Peter was nervous. He’s practically buzzing out of his skin, not specifically because of who the man in front of him was, but because…
Well, because this was the first time since the erasure that Peter had talked to someone who knew both Spider-Man and Peter Parker. Sure, they didn’t interact all that much, but Barnes still knew Peter Parker. And that was almost enough to make Peter break, because looking at him and not seeing the recognition of who he was under the mask felt like too much.
Before Peter could lean too far into those thoughts, he was interrupted by the man himself.
“Mr. Sargent? Wha—never mind, just call me Bucky, kid. No need to be all formal,”
“Okay, Mr. Bucky”
“No, you don’t gotta—whatever, let me fill you in. I’ve been following these guys for a while, and they’re keen on trying to make a big impact on the world. You know, things like invasions or taking over the world, and they’re trying to get there any way they can. Then I get word that they found this weapon, which I would reckon is that green stuff over there, and that they have some sort of massive plan to use it. I’m not sure what it’ll do, but whatever it is won’t be something good.”
Alright, so pretty standard secret organization with nefarious goals. Peter can help with that.
“Yeah, I don’t think anything in that shade of glowing green will ever be something good. Are there any other places that need to be raided, or is it just here?”
“Just here. They gathered everyone they had. Tonight was supposed to be the first time they ran tests, but looks like you stopped them before they got the chance. You work fast, I, uh, almost forgot how efficient you are.”
Peter just got complimented by James Barnes, and boy, was he glad the mask was covering his face. He turned bright red and struggled to keep his thoughts in order. He started stuttering as he tried to keep it together.
“O-oh, thanks a lot Mr. Barnes, I uh, yeah. I try to be fast. Umm, yeah. Would y–Would you like some help? With the clean up? I’m not sure what to do with that giant tub of goo, but I can do my best!” Nailed it. Perfect response. Couldn’t even tell he was freaking out. God, this is going poorly.
Mr. Barnes didn’t respond to the obvious floundering though, so yay for Peter.
“Nah, you don’t gotta do anything. There’s some people on the way to pick all of these guys up. Only thing left is to get some samples of that green stuff and find some files that’re in here somewhere.”
“I could get some samples for you! It might be easier for me because I’m sticky, I just need a vial or something to get the samples, because I don’t think me scooping it up with my hands would be very good for anyone,” Mr. Barnes looked at him for a little longer than comfortable, and then sighed and shook his head.
“Sure, kid. Knock yourself out, you can use these to collect it,” he reached into one of his chest pockets and pulled out a pipette and a vial, then placed them in Peter’s hands.
“Thank you very much Mr. Barnes!” Peter said before he made his way over to the giant vat and started climbing. Mr. Barnes went over to the desks and started rooting through drawers, but Peter heard him mutter a ‘creepy’ under his breath when the younger man dropped his knees and torso low enough to reach the liquid inside. Peter smiled to himself when he remembered how freaked out him and Mr. Wilson were when they saw him crawling across the ceiling of the airport in Germany.
Peter kept taking samples, and just as he finished filling up the vial, his spider senses screamed at him. Before he could move (goddamn it malnutrition, slowing his reaction times), a bullet pierced his back and went through his abdomen. He was knocked off balance with the pain, and before his mind caught up with him, he had fallen into the vat of goop.
He kicked and tried to get himself out, but he couldn't move the way he wanted to. His wound throbbed, and he could feel the goop congealing around him as his vision got fuzzy. Through his haze, he thought he could see something trying to grab at him, but he didn’t really care at the moment. He could feel something happening; his spider senses were screaming at him, and then he felt why.
His body was disintegrating.
It wasn’t like when the snap happened, that had felt like he was being torn apart atom by atom, to the point he couldn’t really feel it. This–this was different. This felt more like his body was melting into nothing. Like his nerves were being individually burned off, along with everything else in his body. He could feel every moment of this. The goop had hardened around him like a cocoon, squeezing him into nothing.
As he was disappearing, Peter realized something.
He really didn’t want to die.
He wanted to keep on surviving, and trying, and living, because, if he died, then there would be no one left who knew him. There would be no one left to remember the life of Peter Parker. He didn’t want to be forgotten, he wanted to be able to grow old and have his joints pop as he swung from building to building. He wanted to tell the neighborhood kids his story. He wanted to be remembered by the people of New York, both as Spider-man and Peter Parker. He wanted to inspire people to stick up for the little guy. He wanted to be a hero, in every sense he could.
But he won’t be able to. Because he was dying. In a cartoonish vat of green goop that was encasing and dissolving him.
As he started to lose consciousness, he saw something coming after him.
He knew there wasn’t, but he liked to think that someone was there with him as he took his final breath.
*****
Bucky was having a fine day. He went to his therapy appointment (Sam insisted he keep doing it. Bucky told him to suck it, then he went anyway), had a nice lunch at a cafe, did a little recon, cooked himself dinner at his hotel room, then slept till midnight. He started to move after he woke up.
There had been a group doing their best to become a threat to the world. Trying to create new bio-weapons, setting up bombs, threatening to kidnap important people. You know, the usual.
He had stopped them at every turn, but they just kept getting away. And now they were all meeting in one place with a new potential weapon. It seemed like a perfect setup for a trap, but Bucky knew this group, and he knew they were too egotistical to think that someone found their hideout. But Bucky did, because he needed to clear his mind and they were the perfect distraction.
Tracking them helped him not think about how something fucked with his head again.
He noticed it two months ago, around November. There was something wrong with his memories. He wasn’t sure what, but it was like there was a hole in his head, and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what was missing. He had talked to Sam a little bit about it, and he said he couldn’t feel anything like that. But he also said that there were certain things that seemed fuzzier than usual when he tried to remember them. They brainstormed (argued) for a little (all day) till they came to the conclusion that Bucky might feel it more because of how guarded he was about his mind.
So, something had happened to both Bucky’s and Sam’s mind that made them forget something. The only problem was that they couldn’t remember what they had forgotten.
It was frustrating.
And because of that frustration, Bucky decided to go after this group. He notified a few people to help deal with the clean up, then rode ahead to their base. As he turned the corner and rounded on the base, he heard sounds of a struggle. He hopped off his bike and immediately kicked down the door. He was met with shouts, gunfire, and–
And a spider.
Spider-Man was there, crouched on top of one of the criminals, with about 30 others either unconscious or webbed up
Bucky held his arm up (the metal one) and crouched behind the busted door to protect himself against the barrage of bullets. As Bucky moved to the offensive, the spider-kid (how did Bucky know it was a kid under that mask?) seemed to snap out of his staring contest and help.
It was honestly kinda scary how fast this kid could wrap up a fight.
Bucky was then reminded of the airport in Germany, and how Spider-Man had basically incapacitated both him and Sam in less than two minutes. And sure, they had been caught off guard, but he had still beat them. It stung a little to be beaten by a teenager, but they were basically even when Steve crushed him with a hanger.
Now that he thought back on those events, he felt some sort of recognition. Like he should know something more about Spider-Man. Bucky turned to stare at the masked vigilante, trying to figure out what he was missing. He found nothing while looking into the (creepy) wide eyes on the mask.
It probably doesn’t matter right now, Bucky has a job to do.
“What’re you doing here, kid?” Spider-Man being here was unusual. He usually stuck to petty crimes and drug busts, maybe a trafficking case here and there, but he didn’t deal much with the more global issues unless he was called in.
“Oh, uh, I just—well Mr. Sargent Barnes, I saw this really suspicious van and it gave me bad vibes. So I followed it and that led me here, and then I heard some of them talk about kidnapping people and I think experimenting on them, so I started taking them down, and then you showed up and that’s honestly all I know about this situation.”
So he’s just here coincidentally? Wait, what did he call Bucky?
“Mr. Sargent? Wha—never mind, just call me Bucky, kid. No need to be all formal,”
“Okay, Mr. Bucky,”
“No, you don’t gotta—whatever, let me fill you in. I’ve been following these guys for a while, and they’re keen on trying to make a big impact on the world. You know, things like invasions or taking over the world, and they’re trying to get there any way they can. Then I get word that they found this weapon, which I would reckon is that green stuff over there, and that they have some sort of massive plan to use it. I’m not sure what it’ll do, but whatever it is won’t be something good.”
“Yeah, I don’t think anything in that shade of glowing green will ever be something good. Are there any other places that need to be raided, or is it just here?”
Bucky’s honesty surprised that Spider-Man wants to help him so much. After all, he runs all over the city almost all day and night. Does this kid just not feel exhausted? Does he not have a job under that mask?
“Just here. They gathered everyone they had. Tonight was supposed to be the first time they ran tests, but looks like you stopped them before they got the chance. You work fast, I, uh, almost forgot how efficient you are.”
Bucky’s not entirely sure why he’s being so amiable to Spider-Man, but something about the kid just made him want to be nice. Maybe it was because of how scrawny he looked, or because of the weird thing with Bucky's memory. It was stronger when he was around the kid. Maybe he should ask about it? Spider-Man interrupted his thoughts before he could comment.
“O-oh, thanks a lot Mr. Barnes, I uh, yeah. I try to be fast. Umm, yeah. Would y–Would you like some help? With the clean up? I’m not sure what to do with that giant tub of goo, but I can do my best!”
Wow, had this kid never been complimented before? He was basically floundering at a single word of kindness. Spider-Man's whole demeanor this interaction was a little concerning. Maybe a bad homelife? Not many people with a happy story turn to fighting crime in a skintight suit. Bucky stared a little longer at Spider-Man, but he couldn’t find anything else with the mask in the way, so he moved the conversation along.
“Nah, you don’t gotta do anything. There’s some people on the way to pick all of these guys up. Only thing left is to get some samples of that green stuff and find some files that’re in here somewhere.”
“I could get some samples for you! It might be easier for me because I’m sticky, I just need a vial or something to get the samples, because I don’t think me scooping it up with my hands would be very good for anyone,”
This kid was so desperate to please and it set off warning lights in Bucky. He was reminded of Steve, when he was scrawny and weak, but so insistent on helping everyone he could. And, wow did that recognition shift something in Bucky, a protective feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. The recognition also came with the acceptance that he wouldn’t be able to keep this kid away from anything if he was set on it. Bucky just shook his head and sighed in resignation.
“Sure, kid. Knock yourself out, you can use these to collect it,”
“Thank you very much Mr. Barnes!”
Bucky ignored the name and went over to the desks to look for some sort of information about what this goop was. He looked over his shoulder to look at the barrel, just to make sure the kid wouldn't fall, then shuddered when he saw the kid bend his knees and torso way past where they should be.
“Creepy,” he muttered to himself.
He turned back to the files and kept looking for any clue as to what that slime stuff is. He found nothing in the first desk, and just as he moved on to the next one, he heard a BANG.
He whipped around just in time to see Spider-Man fall into the giant vat, while one of the previously unconscious criminals was holding a smoking gun.
Bucky didn’t hesitate to pull out his pistol and shoot the guy in the shoulder. He also didn’t hesitate to run over to the vat and slam his metal fist against the glass, but it didn’t even budge at the impact. Bucky started panicking as he saw the kid desperately fighting to get out.
Bucky jumped up onto the rim of the barrel and plunged his metal hand in to try and grab Spider-Man, but the kid was too far down to reach. He took a second to think about his options, then he took a deep breath, and dove head first into the goop.
And if that wasn’t a mistake…
Bucky could feel the slime hardening around him as he reached and tried to grab the masked vigilante. And then he felt the pain. It was similar to being dusted, but also so different. When he died, it hurt, like he was being shredded to pieces, and that sucked, but he was mostly numb during it. This was like he was melting. He could feel his body being consumed, feel as his legs got liquidated and his entire being was disappearing, and he could see the same thing happening to Spider-Man.
He was watching this kid die and he couldn’t do anything. And that was infuriating. He was supposed to help people, supposed to support those who needed him, but here he was, watching as a child takes his final breath in a vat of slime that he had no business even being near. Bucky shouldn’t have let him help. He should have turned him away and handled it himself. God, he fuck up, and now someone was dying because of it. The only solace Bucky could find was that he would be following soon, that this kid wouldn’t die alone.
As he struggled against his consciousness, Bucky saw flashes in his mind. Sam’s heart broken face when he found out Bucky had died, how much Cass and AJ would cry, how Sarah would try to be strong as she broke the news to the neighbors. How much people would mourn for him. As he imagined it, he realized how many people he had in his life now, and he couldn’t help but feel happy.
He also realized he was leaving them, and he didn’t get to say goodbye. He was leaving them, for good. God, he was horrible.
The very last thought Bucky had before he finally felt his vision black out was I’m sorry, everyone.
Notes:
Thank you for reading! I’m really excited about this fic. I haven’t really ever been interested in writing, but I’m having fun creating this story! I have the next chapter already written, but I’m still in the process of fiddling with where I want this to go. I have some pretty solid ideas, and I have some scenes that I definitely want to include, but it’s tricky.
I’m also debating if I want to add Kate Kane and Luke Fox, because I really like their characters, but I don’t think I know enough about them to depict them accurately, and it’s hard to find media with them in the batfam. I also know there’s a plethora of other heroes vigilantes that I haven’t even seen yet, so let me know if there’s anyone you’d want to see in this!
I’m going to try to update every week, but schools starting up and I’m not sure how it’ll affect my time and motivation.
If you have any questions about the fic, please feel free to comment! I’d love to get some feedback and suggestions :)
Also, if someone could tell me how to transfer my work from google docs to here without all my formatting being edited (things like alignment and italics being erased) I would really appreciate it!
I hope you enjoy reading!
Chapter 2: It's Raining Men
Summary:
Bucky falls, get's chased, stops a crime, and learns some things about Spider-Man.
Also, he's in a different universe.
God damn it.
Notes:
New chapter yay!
This one was a little trickier for me to write, but I'm fairly happy with how it turned out.
I don't think there are any trigger warnings this chapter, but let me know if I need to add some.
I hope you enjoy :D
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Bucky woke up, which was surprising, but not unwelcome. What was unwelcome was the fact that he woke up about 300 feet in the air and that he was rapidly falling to the ground of a dimly lit and unfamiliar city. Not a great way to find out you’re alive, but not any worse than fighting off an alien invasion.
Okay, first things first, look for a place to land that wouldn’t break his legs.
It was hard to make out the landscape below him. The whole area was covered in a layer of fog and the lights were abnormally dim for a city, but as he got closer to the ground, he was able to make out a fight happening on the street. There, in the middle of the road, was a frantic Spider-Man rolling around, trying to dodge a giant humanoid lizard aiming to rip him apart.
What was this kid's life? What was Bucky’s life? That should not be something that they deal with regularly, and it should not be something that Bucky so easily moves on from. But he kinda has no choice. He sharply exhaled and contemplated how crazy his life is as he angled himself to land on the lizard guy’s back. Not the best plan, but oh well. When he got close enough to the ground, he crossed his arms over his chest and braced his body for how much this was gonna suck.
He landed right on the green guy's back, slamming his whole body into the ground and cracking the asphalt.
Bucky steadied himself on top of the lizard's body, taking a second to analyze his surroundings, before he realized that very few people could survive their back being used as a crash pad. He might have just killed this guy. Fuck. Bucky quickly checked for a pulse on a scaly wrist, feeling immensely relieved when he found one.
He slowly untensed from on top of the lizard man, and then the pain hit him. Wow, that landing hurt. This was way worse than jumping out of that plane. He’s lucky that the guy he landed on killed his momentum, or his legs would have been shattered. God, his knees are killing him. Bucky stumbled off the unconscious body, wincing slightly at how numb his legs felt. Spider-Man seemed to have gotten his bearings together and webbed up the guy on the ground. Then, the vigilante turned to Bucky, his confusion somehow shining through his mask
“Um, Mr. Barnes? Would you happen to know where we are? Or who that is?” he asked as he gestured towards the prone body laying on the ground. Bucky ignored the ‘Mr. Barnes’ and looked towards the guy he just slammed into, but something caught his eye. A few feet away from where he was standing, he saw a crater in the street. A crater that was shaped an awful lot like a person.
“I don’t. Did you make that?”
Spider-Man glanced towards where Bucky pointed, and then he looked away and brought his hand to the back of his neck.
“I mean, probably? I woke up laying in the street, and then I was dodging claws trying to impale me, so I didn’t really get the chance to figure out what happened. But, based on you falling out of the sky and how much my side hurts, I think it’s a safe assumption. Can’t wait for The Bugle to get on my ass about this one.”
Jesus, what was this kid made of? He fell from the equivalent of a 30 story building, crashed into the ground at terminal velocity, and he’s still on his feet. How was he not dead? Honestly, Bucky was a little horrified at his durability.
“Damn, you’re made of some strong shit. Wait, weren’t you shot earlier? I could call some people, get some doctors to look you over when we get back.”
“Oh, um, no. I’m all good sir, no need for anything like that. The bullet wound was gone when I woke up, so I think I already healed that up. And it went straight through, so I don’t gotta worry about that. And I’m super durable, so I’ll be fine.”
What kinda healing factor did this kid have for a bullet wound to be gone already? Spider-Man had curled in on himself slightly, as if protecting his ribs.
Bucky raised an eyebrow, but reluctantly nodded and pulled out his phone to check their location (and to call Sam to find this kid some doctors). The phone itself was high-tech, the type Sam insisted he take because they need to ‘take advantage of all the free shit the government gives us’, but as Bucky went to turn it on, nothing happened. It didn’t even flash an out of battery symbol, just a black screen.
“Shit,” he knew he shoulda kept using his flip phone.
“Is something wrong, Mr. Barnes?”
“My phone–” Bucky cut himself off, feeling someone staring at him. He looked towards the rooftop where he felt the gaze, and he caught sight of something flying right at his head. He dodged, and he barely had time to look at the projectile (was that a bat shaped throwing knife?) before Spider-Man grabbed his flesh arm and started booking it to a nearby alley.
“What are you doing?! Do you know those guys?!” Bucky yelled as he started sprinting to keep up.
“No! But something's wrong and we need to get away! I hear at least three more people coming for us and this whole situation feels like a trap! I’d rather not find out how prepared they are to take us down!” His explanation was punctuated by an array of knives nipping at their feet.
Bucky started running faster in response, his mind racing as he scrambled to figure out what was happening. Maybe those criminals back at the warehouse were more prepared than he thought? Could be, but they seemed way too sloppy, and none of them seemed all that prepared for Bucky to show up. He doesn’t think they even accounted for Spider-Man showing up. Maybe those guys were being controlled by someone bigger? Someone who wanted the heroes out of the way? Or maybe they were backed by an anti-enhanced people campaign. The Sokovia Accords had been appealed recently, and it had kicked up a lot of hate.
Bucky realized he’d have no shot of figuring out who these people were right now. They had too little information, and they wouldn’t be able to find much out while they’re being chased. Okay, new goal: lose their pursuers. He just needed to come up with a plan.
Spider-Man had let go of his arm and was now sprinting through the alleyways, occasionally stopping for a split second before jerking in the other direction. Bucky could now hear the rustle of clothes and the sound of metal hitting stone (for some reason) above them as their pursuers tried to catch up to the duo. The assailants were struggling to keep up, but not nearly as much as the average person should be. Whoever these people were, they were trained. That was clear both by their speed and how silently they moved. It also became apparent how well they knew this city.
Bucky and Spider-Man needed to hide. They wouldn’t be able to shake these people. The duo was too unfamiliar with their surroundings to try. It seemed like Spidey was intent on just running till one of the parties collapsed. Which might have worked, but Bucky could hear the ripping of an engine heading their way.
Bucky took a second to think, and he quickly came up with a half-baked, incredibly simple plan that relied way too much on luck and their ability to run faster than their opponents. Perfect, just like Steve. And Sam. This was gonna turn out fine, those twos’ plans (when they had one) always turned out mostly fine. Now he just had to communicate it to Spider-Man.
The kid said that he was able to hear these people coming, so Bucky took a swing in the dark and whispered his plan.
“Listen up, I need you to run as fast as you can ahead of me, then duck into the next turn and hide out of sight from above. I’ll do the same once I pass your spot, then I’ll circle back to meet you.”
Spider-Man twisted his head to glance back at Bucky, then looked forward with a slight nod. Then he started booking it down the alley. And oh boy, could that kid move. It was like he was possessed, and Bucky gained a new reason to be freaked out by him. He was barely able to see the kid duck into the next alley. Perfect. This was going to turn out fine.
As Bucky passed by Spider-Man’s hiding spot, he inhaled deeply and willed his legs to push their limits. He could hear his pursuers getting farther and further away, and when he couldn’t hear the rustling of clothes anymore, he drifted into the next alley he saw and quickly slid himself under a well placed dumpster. He thanked his leather jacket and reinforced pants for keeping the glass and needles out of his skin.
He waited a few moments, barely breathing as he listened for any sign of his pursuers. He heard the sound of boots hitting the roof, before someone mutter Shit, I lost him overhead. It was followed by the sound of metal on stone and the swish of fabric. Bucky stayed where he was for a few more minutes, waiting for the sound of the engine to fall away. Once it did, he pulled himself out from under the dumpster. He winced at the amount of grime that covered him, and tried to shake off what he could before he started walking back.
As he retraced his steps, he took notice of the fact that the surrounding buildings still had people in them. They were civilians, by the sound of it, and it made Bucky question their assailant’s plan. Did they not account for the duo running? Why wouldn’t they clear out the area if they wanted to keep them trapped? Civilians added an extra layer of uncertainty in a chase, so why not take them to a remote location?
As he got closer to his destination, it started to rain, because of course it did. Bucky just sighed and picked up his speed a little. He reached the lip of the alley where Spider-Man had hid and called out to the vigilante. The other lowered himself in front of Bucky, hanging upside down from the bottom of a fire escape.
Bucky looked him over and let out a quiet “You alright?”, which was met with a hum of approval before the kid righted himself and planted his feet on the ground. .
“Who were those guys? Were they part of that group we busted?”
“Maybe, I’m not sure,”
“Alright. Okay. That’s fine. Okay. First, we need to figure out where we are, and we can build off of that. Do you have a GPS or something in your phone?”
Spider-Man sounded exhausted as he spoke. His shoulders were slightly hunched like it hurt to keep himself upright. There was also something in the way he held himself that told Bucky that he’d been through the wringer as of late. Maybe Bucky could help take care of Queens for a little; take some of the weight off the kid’s shoulders. It wasn’t like there was much else for him to do nowadays.
“Yeah, I do, but I think the phone’s busted. It won’t turn on.”
“Damn, do you want me to take a look at it? I’m pretty good with electronics, I might be able to fix it if nothing’s too badly damaged.”
“Go ahead. I’m gonna–I’ll go root around for some disguises. We won’t be able to do much while those guys are still on our asses,” he handed over the phone and turned away as Spider-Man took a screwdriver out from his suit (it had pockets?) and started taking the back off of the device.
Bucky moved out of the alley and towards a road he saw earlier. As he walked, he thought about his situation, and he drew up more questions than answers. What did the people chasing them want? How was Spider-Man involved in this? They had both died, right? Who were they revived by? There had to be some magic involved, but he wasn’t sure how. Was one of the Big Three (goddamn it, Sam) involved and was this whole thing just a precursor to an invasion?
He turned sharply into a thrift store (what kind of thrift store was open at one in the morning?), carefully avoiding showing his face on the security cameras. He took note of the bin full of used gasmasks near the front (what the hell kinda city is this?) as he quickly made his way to the racks. He grabbed two heavy coats, two hats, a pair of pants, and shoes that looked like they would fit Spider-Man. Every item smelt like a mix of gunpowder, blood, and detergent.
He made his way through the store, looking for anything else they might need, but he froze when he saw his reflection in a rusty mirror.
His eyes were green.
It was subtle, not a full on color change, but rather like there was a thin, liquid film over the once blue irises.
He cursed under his breath as he frantically looked for other changes to his appearance, mildly relieved to find nothing else wrong. Just his eyes. Were they contacts? No, he couldn’t feel anything in his eyes. Something had been changed in the actual iris. How could his eyes just change color? Was it because of that goop he jumped in? Did it stain his eyes? Wouldn't the whites of his eyes be green as well if that was the case? Did someone do this to him? Did someone fuck with him while–
The sound of the store's shitty doors opening snapped Bucky out of his panic.
He took a few erratic breaths of air, calming himself down as much as he could, before he turned sharply away from the mirror and towards the checkout. He felt robotic as he tried to ignore his mind racing. He paid in cash, not wanting whoever was chasing him to track his card, and started his trek back. It was cold outside, but Bucky barely felt it. As he left, he pulled one of the coats out of the bag and tugged over his shoulders. He also pulled some gloves out of his pockets and put on one of the hats, hoping that it covered his face well enough from above.
As he walked back, he tried to ignore whatever had happened to him and took a moment to really look at the city he was in. All of the street signs were in English, the speed limits were posted in miles per hour, and his cash was accepted by the cashier, so they were probably still in America. That was great, but what wasn’t great was that whatever city they had landed in was grim. There were stray bullet holes in every other building, almost every storefront had their windows broken, and there was a distinct stench in the air that reminded Bucky of the world directly after The Blip. Every person he came across kept their head down and stayed clear of him, which wasn’t that uncommon for Bucky, but it seemed like they treated everyone with the same suspicion.
Something about this city put him on edge, and he found he had good reason when he walked into an alleyway and immediately encountered a mugging. Because why wouldn’t he. Bucky just sighed as he looked over the situation.
There was a kid, probably around college age, being pressed up against the wall by a man with a knife. There were two others, a man and a woman, not armed but well built enough to be intimidating to a normal person. Seemed fairly simple, but the strange thing was that the kid didn’t seem all that worried, more annoyed than anything. The one with the knife was clearly getting fed up with the attitude, and Bucky spoke up just as the weapon went to the young man's throat.
“Three people just to do a shake down? Man, times must be getting tough,” all heads whipped to him as he casually stepped closer.
“Who the hell are you?!” the woman yelled as she squared her shoulders.
"No one important." Bucky replied before he moved in.
He sent a kick to her stomach, knocking her into the wall before she collapsed in a heap. He easily dodged a punch from the other man, then he grabbed his arm and twisted, forcing the man's face into his knee. He rounded on the guy with the knife, only to find the kid from earlier standing over his unconscious body. Bucky was a little surprised, but he moved on quickly and scanned for any injuries. He spoke up after finding none.
“You alright?”
The kid looked towards Bucky and smiled.
“Yeah, all good! Thanks for the rescue,”
“No problem. You know your way back home?”
“Yup, I’ll be fine. Sorry for the trouble. I’m Bernard, by the way,”
“No trouble. Just stay safe.”
“Will do, stranger. Have a nice night!” Bernard threw over his shoulder as he started walking towards the road.
Bucky hummed out a quiet affirmative and walked deeper into the alleys.
He made his way back to where he left Spider-Man, and when he turned the corner he found the kid shivering under the fire escape, trying to stay out of the rain. The phone was clutched in shaking hands as the vigilante looked up towards Bucky.
“H-Hi Mr. Barnes,” his voice trembled as he spoke, teeth chattering together, and Bucky was immediately whipping the coat out of the bag and wrapping it around the other’s shoulders.
“Jesus, you’re freezing. Here, put this on. We should get you somewhere warm, out of the rain.”
Bucky felt…strange as he worried about Spider-Man. It felt like his emotions had been dialed up to eleven, and the main one shining through was some sort of protectiveness. Sure, he felt the need to help the kid earlier in the warehouse, but whatever was happening now was very different. It was a protectiveness that he’d only felt when he would find Steve black and blue in the street. And even then, it had never been this overpowering. It was like something deep inside him wanted to protect this kid with everything he had. But before Bucky could really examine why that was, Spider-Man spoke up.
“T-Thanks. I got the phone working, and I looked at your GPS. It s-says we’re on an island called Gotham, right off the coast of New Jersey. I-I’d never heard of it before, so I started to research, and I don’t think we’re in our world anymore. The h-history of this place is all mixed up and The Avengers never existed. The people chasing us earlier were p-probably the vigilantes of this city, and I think I screwed us o-over when I made us run away because they have access to other superheroes who can h-help and I-I’m so sorry but I can’t do this again and–”
Spider-Man had started crying midway through his explanation, his body shaking with both the cold and his tears, and Bucky didn’t know what to do. He just sat in front of the other, hand hovering as Spider-Man curled into himself. He sounded so young under the mask, younger than Steve when he took the serum, younger than when Bucky enlisted. Younger than anyone in this situation should be.
Bucky heard another sob escape from the kid, and he kicked himself into action. He wrapped his arms around the kid in a tight embrace pulling the younger into his chest.
Spider-Man froze for a moment, and Bucky hesitated, but then the younger hugged back full force. He buried his head in the elders shoulder and wept, babbling out quiet apologies and trying to breath. The two of them just stayed there, letting the weight of everything sink in. Bucky rubbed the kids back as he tried to come to terms with their situation.
They were in a different world. A different universe, where The Avengers never existed. Where everything was different from what they’re used to. They were in a city that didn’t exist off the coast of-
“Oh god, we’re in Jersey.”
The statement strangled a laugh out of Spider-Man.
“Yeah, that might be the worst part of this whole situation,” he choked out between giggles and sobs.
Bucky hummed in agreement, letting his mind run wild as he pulled the younger closer. He was still freezing through his suit, but the coat and the embrace seemed to be helping.
As Spider-Man’s sobs started dying down, Bucky slowly pulled his arms back until the two were sitting face to face. Well, face to mask, but that didn’t really matter. They sat there for a minute, letting themselves settle.
Spider-Man let out a shaky breath before as he leaned back, letting his head hit the wall. After a few more minutes of sitting in silence, the vigilante spoke up.
“So, how’d your disguise mission go? Find any fake mustaches?”
His voice was still shaky and raw, but it had an edge of determination that Bucky knew well. This kid wouldn’t let himself be broken down. Bucky let out a quiet chuckle as he replied.
“‘Fraid not, but I got you some pants and shoes, along with a hat, just in case. Here,”
He pulled the clothes out of the bag and handed them over.
“Aw, man. I was so looking forward to a classic spy movie disguise, I’d look great with a mustache.” Spider-Man said as he stood and pulled on the pants. He was moving slowly, and his frame was still shivering in the cold. Bucky followed him up, shaking his legs out slightly as he got off the ground.
“It’s a cryin’ shame I couldn’t find any. Guess you’ll have to settle for looking like a normal person.”
“Oh, the horror.” Spider-Man said as he tugged on the shoes. He seemed unsteady as he slowly straightened his back. He still had his mask on, which looked strange with his new outfit. Spider-Man hesitated as he grabbed the hat.
“I’m gonna have to take off the mask, aren’t I?”
His voice was so quiet that Bucky had a hard time hearing it. The question sounded so dejected, and his voice was tinged with a deep fear that sounded wrong coming from the vigilante. It was a fear so raw that Bucky had to take a moment and wonder what this kid has possibly been through to be that terrified.
Bucky hesitated before he answered.
“…It would be better if you did, but we can find a way to make the mask work.”
Spider-Man just stood there, shivering in the cold. It looked like he was considering something, and when he spoke up, his voice was full of disbelief.
“Do you mean that?”
“Of course.” If his identity was that important to him, Bucky wouldn’t force him to reveal it.
The younger leaned his back against the wall and slowly sunk down to the ground, his hands wrapping around his knees. Bucky just sat down next to him and waited. He noted how skinny the kid was, how loosely the clothes hung on him. When was the last time the kid had a proper meal? He was basically skin and bones. Had he been going on patrol without eating? How had he not passed out yet? He’s out there, fighting for New York all alone when he’s barely looking after himself. God, he’s so similar to Steve it hurts.
They just sat in silence, with Spider-Man occasionally letting out a sniffle. After a while, the kid spoke up. His voice was strained, but it still had that glare of determination.
“The last time someone knew who I was, my whole life fell apart,”
And from there, he started telling Bucky about everything. How he was framed by someone he trusted, how the whole world turned on him in the blink of an eye, how both his and his loved ones' lives were ripped apart. How, when he tried to fix it, the whole multiverse collapsed. How one of the only adults left In his life was killed, and how angry he had been. He talked about how close he came from killing someone, and how an alternate version of himself talked him down. How the whole world started collapsing, and how he had to erase himself from existence. He told Bucky about how, after everything had settled, he was all alone, unable to keep a job, barely eating, barely sleeping, barely having time to breathe. How hard it was to hold it together, and how, every time he slowed down, even for a minute, he saw everything he lost. He ended by saying that this was the first time he’s been able to tell anyone what happened to him.
Bucky couldn’t do anything but listen. He watched as sobbed racked Spider-Man's body, and he let the weight of that story settle over them.
Bucky felt his resolve harden. Spider-Man needs someone in his corner, someone who will look out for him, and Bucky is going to be that person. He’ll get Sam in on it too, when they get back.
The duo just sat there for what felt like hours, until Spider-Man’s frame started to shake harder and his teeth started clattering together. The rain had only gotten heavier and the cold had broken through the layers of clothes.
Spider-man put his head in his hands for a few seconds, taking a second to breathe, before he did something truly shocking.
He turned his head and looked straight at Bucky, tore the mask off his head.
Neither spoke, and Bucky just took in the face of the vigilante. He could feel some kind of recognition. He knew he had seen that face before, but he can’t put a name to it. Every time he tried to remember, he just couldn’t.
Of course his memories being fucked with was some magic bullshit. He was gonna rip Doctor Strange a new one when they got back.
There were a few details that stuck out about the boy in front of him. The hardest one to ignore was a massive bruise on the side of his face, most likely from the fall they took when they got here. There was also the fact that his eyes also had the same green tint over them Bucky had. After a few more seconds, Spider-Man looked away and towards the ground, and Bucky just picked up the discarded hat and silently put it on the younger head. They both leaned back against the wall and sat in mutual silence. They stayed there for a few moments, before Bucky decided they should start moving.
He looked over to the younger, only to find him out cold.
He got really concerned as he noticed just how much the kid was shivering. He quickly whipped off both his coat and leather jacket, wrapping the latter over Spider-Man’s shoulders and silently cursing himself for getting rid of the left sleeve. He contemplated giving the other his coat as well, but decided that the last thing they needed was the extra attention his arm would garner. He slipped it back on, pulling Spider-Man close to keep him warm.
Bucky noticed the discarded phone on the ground and picked it up, searching for nearby hotels. He doubted that his card would work in this world, but he still had some cash on him. Enough to get a shitty hotel for a night and some food in the morning. He found a cheap hotel (very cheap, and it made him realize the Blip probably didn’t happen in this world) a small ways away. He quickly memorized the route, before he shoved his phone back in his pocket and stood up.
Bucky took a moment to collect himself, then he picked Spider-Man up and threw him over his right shoulder. He took one last deep breath before he started walking.
Notes:
Thanks for reading this chapter! I had fun writing it :)
School started up this week, and I already wanna drop out. The next few chapters might be slow to come out as I get back into the swing of things, but they will be written!
We're getting a DC characters POV next time. Any guesses who it'll be? :D
Have a great day!
Chapter 3: Okay, Cool. Great. Loving This.
Summary:
Jason chases two new vigilantes, finds a suspicious man with a kid on his back, and makes possibly a bad decision.
Bernard almost gets mugged, meets a strange man, and talks to Tim about it.
Notes:
I'm back :D
This chapter took longer to finish than I wanted (school sucks), but its here.
It was kind of a struggle to write this chapter. It's not exactly how I wanted it to turn out, but I'm still pretty happy with this one.
I hope you enjoy :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Jason was having a fairly nice day. He woke up at noon, ate some lunch, took Dog for a walk, and talked to some of his building's tenants.
As he walked back to his apartment, he went through his mental list of items to do tonight. It wasn’t supposed to be that bad tonight, only some light deals that he wouldn’t even have to stick around for.
And it went almost exactly like that, until Killer Croc showed up in the middle of Burnley and started trashing the area.
Great.
At first, Jason was content to let everyone else handle it. Batman was probably already en route and he really didn’t want to deal with that. So, Jason just ignored it and continued making his rounds.
And then Oracle sent him a message saying that a body fell out of the sky near Burnley, made a crater in the ground, and then started fighting Killer Croc.
Okay, sure.
Jason crouched on the edge of a roof and pulled up the security feed of the area. The first thing he was able to see was someone slam Croc into the ground after falling from the sky.
Great, more bullshit to deal with.
The guy stumbled off of his spot on Croc’s back and the other person (in a red and blue skin suit? Was this a wanna be Superman?) aimed their arm at the unconscious body, and something came out of their arm. It looked like some sort of web, but Jason couldn’t really tell from the shitty camera quality.
The two people in the feed started talking before the taller one pulled out what he assumed was a phone. And in a split second, the two looked towards a rooftop, then they started hightailing it away.
Jason decided to listen in on the others' coms (muted, of course) to figure out what was happening. The first voice he heard was Tim.
“--wasn’t the one to throw a Batarang at them! Jeez, these guys are fast. I’m clocking them around 50 mph and they're constantly avoiding the areas we plan to drop in. My guess is the one in the suit has got some type of radar in that mask.”
Damian spoke up next.
“They were an unknown variable. I thought it best to incapacitate them before they had the chance to become a threat.”
“Yeah, well, now we have two unknown metas tearing through the city thinking we’re trying to kill them!”
“That doesn’t matter. They will not get away.”
Seems like they had this handled, then. Jason made his way to his bike, intent to leave the whole situation alone, when Steph’s voice called out.
“I can’t catch up, could someone send over a Batcycle? They're getting close to the west of Crime Alley, it might be best to cut them off and herd them to a dead end.”
Great, they’re headed to his turf. Now he had to get involved, if just to keep the bats out. Oracle spoke up as he started driving west.
“Sending one over now,”
“No need, Oracle. I’m on my way.”
“Alright, Hood. Sending you the location.”
“Got it. ETA is two minutes.” He flicked off his coms and started speeding off towards his destination.
As he rounded a corner, he saw a flash of red and blue, quickly followed by a smear of black. And from there, he started his pursuit. His plan was to follow them a few turns behind, herding them away from The Alley and into a dead end. And it seemed like it was gonna work.
Until the red and blue one disappeared.
“Holy fuck! The masked one just passed 90 miles! What kinda guy is this?!” Tim screeched over the coms.
“Oh shit, the other ones’ speeding up!” Steph announced.
Jason started flying through the alleys, trying to catch a glimpse of either of them, but they were gone. He heard Spoiler mutter into the coms.
“Shit, I lost him.”
“Turn on infrared vision and scan the area. They can’t have gotten far.” Bruce, his voice grating on Jason’s ears over the coms. He was barking orders like they haven’t done this a million times before. Typical.
“Yes, they could have. Both could outrun cars on a highway, they one hundred percent could have gotten far.” He heard Tim say as he dropped down next to Jason.
Jason flipped on his infrared and started looking around the area, but he came up with nothing. There were too many people in the surrounding area. It would be impossible to find anyone specifically with this many heat sources. He relayed that much to the others, then he started on his way back. This was their mess, and as long as they didn’t bother him, Jason would stay out of it.
Plus, Batman was most likely going to make an appearance soon, and he really didn’t want to deal with that.
He made his way back to his patrol, switching back over to the rooftops to get around. He left the coms channel, going back to his routine.
Jason kept going for about two hours and nothing of note happened in that time. He was about to throw in the towel for the night, when something caught his eye.
There was a man with someone slung over his shoulder.
The one being carried seemed to be unconscious, and they looked young. Jason swung closer, trying to figure out what was happening. Was this a kidnapping? It didn't seem like a kidnapping. The man was walking in the middle of the sidewalk, not even looking at his surroundings, and he was adjusting his hold every few seconds, making sure the one he’s carrying was comfortable. Maybe they were just trying to get home? Jason’s gut was telling him that there wasn’t anything especially malicious about the situation.
But why were they out this late? Why were they just roaming Crime Alley at three in the morning?
Jason perched on the edge of the roof, squinting his eyes as he tried to analyze more about the duo, when the man turned his head toward him. Full on, staring right at Jason’s place on the roof.
That hasn’t happened since he died. What the fuck.
And then the man just looked away. Like he didn’t care that there was a crime lord following him. And the worst part about it was that the man didn’t even notice when a group of muggers started following him. Was Jason getting sloppy? Was he easier to spot than a group of street thugs?
He followed the duo for a few more minutes, watching as more and more people joined the group tailing them. The man had to know at this point. Was he just going to let them mug him? While he had a kid on his shoulders?
One of the muggers stepped in front of the man, brandishing a knife as he demanded the other hand over his valuables. Jason prepared himself to intervene.
It wouldn’t be that hard. These guys didn’t look like they knew how to fight. They probably just relied on numbers and intimidation, and Jason didn’t care about either of those factors.
He dropped down a few feet behind the group, staying quiet as he approached.
He also took a moment to observe the kid on the man’s back. There was a nasty bruise on the side of his face, and his eyes were puffy. Jason could also see the start of his lips turning blue. It was concerning. Maybe his gut instinct was wrong? Bruises like that usually don’t happen by accident.
He needed to get this over with quickly.
The man had stopped in front of the mugger and eyed the knife in an unimpressed manner. Then, he spoke up.
“No.”
What.
The man just started walking after that, hitching the kid higher on his shoulder. The mugger sounded so lost as he responded, it was almost funny.
“What?”
“No.” He just kept walking straight ahead, not even looking back at the stunned group.
“I—wha? Hey! You can’t just say no! We're robbin’ you! You don’t get a choice!”
The man tilted his head back ever so slightly, barely making eye contact with the mugger. He had a small grin on his face as he spoke again.
“No.”
“Oh fuck you!” The guy with the knife lunged forward, aiming right at the man’s back, dangerously close to the kid’s head.
Okay, time to intervene.
The man turned and kicked the knife out of the mugger's hand just as Jason cocked one of his guns and yelled.
“Ay! You guys gotta learn to take a no!”
All heads turned to him, and the group's eyes went wide. Someone yelled out a ‘scram!’ and they scattered. Jason didn’t bother following them, instead he kept his eyes on the man, watching as he started quickly walking away.
“Stop walkin’, I wanna talk to you.” There’s no way Jason was letting this guy just take off, especially with the state of the kid on his shoulder.
The man stopped, then he slowly turned around and raised an eyebrow. Jason took a good look at his face, noting every detail he could see in the low light. There were a few old scars across his skin, but it was hard to discern what caused them with the shadows cast across the other's face. His hair was a dark brown, a little shorter than jaw length, and there was a faint trace of stubble around his mouth.
The man spoke up, his voice laced with caution.
“What do you want?”
“I wanna know what you’re doin’ out so late with a kid on your back.” No point beating around the bush.
“What’s it matter to you?”
“You woulda gotten yourself and that kid killed if I didn’t step in, so I think I’m right to be a little curious. And you’re clearly not a local if you think runnin’ round Crime Alley this late is a good idea.”
“We woulda been fine, even if you hadn’t been following us.”
“I doubt it. How’d ya see me?”
“Ex-military. Why’d you track us?”
Jason didn’t think lying to this guy would go over well, and there really wasn’t any reason to.
“You looked suspicious. The puffy eyes and that bruise on the kid's face didn’t help your case.”
The man’s eyes suddenly started glowing a sickly, acidic green that Jason knew all too well.
Fuck. Shit fuck shit. This was bad. This was incredibly fucking bad.
“I don’t like what you’re implying.” The man’s voice had sharpened, the words laced with a threat.
Jason didn’t really care right now. If this guy came from the pits, then the kid probably did too. And that probably meant they were involved with the League.
Images of both his and Damian’s time with the League flashed in his mind, and he felt his emotions flare.
“You don't have to like it. I just need to know what happened to have him looking like that, and what part you had in it.” Jason gripped his gun tighter, feeling something bubble under his skin at the thought of another kid being put in that position.
The man’s eyes were still glowing, but it had faded a little. He had shifted his weight ever so slightly, tilting so his left side was closer to the weapon. He spoke up before Jason could worry about him trying anything.
“…I didn’t do that to him. I don’t know the full story, but he’s safe with me. Whatever happened before won’t happen again, not while he’s with me.”
Jason took a moment to really look at the duo in front of him. He saw the clearly well made pants and boots of the man, the kind that were made for combat. He also saw the coat meant to conceal his frame, how low his hat shadowed his face. It painted a suspicious picture, but he also saw the baggy and ripped, but high quality jacket hanging over the younger frame, protecting him from the cold. He saw how the man’s grip tightened microscopically whenever the younger shivered, and Jason couldn’t shake the feeling that this man wasn’t a threat to this kid.
He also took a moment to consider the man’s words. The story he told was vague. Extremely vague. But it didn’t seem like Jason would be getting much else from the man. And he felt it would be a bad idea to push it. He wasn’t eager to take the man at his word, but he needed to find a way to keep an eye on them. He felt that if he pushed for details, the man might bolt.
“…You two got a place to stay?”
It would be best to monitor from a distance, make sure that they’re not planning anything big.
“What’s it to you?”
So no.
That wasn’t great for them, but this might let Jason keep a closer eye on them.
“What’s it to me is that the kid on your back looks two steps away from dying of hypothermia, and I’m really not interested in seein’ that. There’s an apartment building three blocks down. Landlord won’t ask questions and the rent's cheap. Only one bedroom rooms left, but they come with a mattress and a couch,” Jason just so happened to be the landlord, but he didn't need to tell him that.
“Thanks, but we won't be here that long. We’ll just get a hotel.” Did this guy know nothing about Gotham? A hotel in Park Row? In the middle of the night? It’s like he’s trying to kill himself.
“You don’t wanna do that. All the hotels nearby are fronts for traffickers, unless you got the cash to get a real nice one.”
The man just stared. His face was empty, but Jason could see in his eyes a heavy regret.
They stayed like that for a little, then the man sighed and brought a gloved hand to his face.
“I hate this fucking city.”
“Join the club. Look, you two clearly aren’t from around here, and you not getting shanked yet is a true miracle. I’m not interested in seeing you two in a morgue tomorrow, so I’m doing something I will never do again. I have a buddy with a place a little ways from here. He doesn’t stay there often, and he’s outta town right now. You can stay the night and then go wherever you’re going in the morning.”
This was not a great idea. In fact, it was a horrible idea and Jason truly had no reason to be doing this, but if these people were connected to any part of The League, it was better to have them somewhere he could monitor that let them roam free. And if they weren’t, then he was keeping these two off the streets.
“What do you get from this? What’s the catch?”
“No catch, I’m just that nice,”
“Bullshit.”
Yeah, that’s fair enough.
“Fine, you caught me. I want to keep an eye on the strange man who was walking around Gotham in the middle of the night with a kid slung over his shoulder. I’m clearly nefarious and evil.”
Jason had crossed his hands over his chest as he talked, rolling his hip to the side.
The man looked ready to walk away, but the kid started shivering harder, letting out a groan as the rain got heavier. There was a pause in the man’s expression, and after a few moments of consideration, he spoke up.
“…I find any reason to leave, we’re gone. You try to pull anything, I break your arms."
“I expected nothing less.”
Jason started walking towards a safehouse he set up a while ago. He hasn’t used it recently, and he has some cameras set up inside.
He still wasn’t sure why he was doing this, but he had a feeling that these people were important. He also took a minute to wonder why the man was so easy to convince. He didn’t seem like the type to take someone up on an offer like this, and it didn’t seem like he was happy with his decision.
Jason needed more information.
“…So, what’s your name?”
“What’s yours?”
“Nice try. You can call me Red Hood. Now answer the question.”
“Nah, I’m good.” Great. This was going great. Jason wasn’t regretting anything. At all.
“You’re really not good at making people like you.”
“I get that a lot.”
The two kept walking in silence for a little, before Jason decided to speak up again.
“…What’s the kid’s name?”
“Didn’t tell me.”
“You’re really not helping your case.”
“Didn’t know this was a court.”
“I didn’t have to offer you this deal ya know.”
“But you did.”
God, this guy was getting on his nerves. Maybe Jason should just straight up ask about The League. It would probably get him more information than this.
He’d need to look into these two when he got home, see if there’s any records he can get a hold of.
They turned into an apartment building, and Jason saw the man’s shoulders drop a little as they stepped out of the rain.
“Room’s on the fourth floor. We’ll take the elevator. Stairs are busted.”
“Stairs are busted? Ain’t it usually the other way?”
“They got wrecked a while back. Rouge attack.”
Jason heard the other mumble under his breath, but didn’t pay him much mind as he pressed the call button for the elevator.
The ride up was awkward. Neither seemed particularly comfortable with how the night had turned out, and both were steadfast in their silence. The only sound was the shaking of the elevator and the occasional groans the kid would let out. His shivering had died down since they entered the building, but it was still present.
They arrived at the fourth floor, and Jason led the group over to the apartment. He pulled the key out of a hidden compartment in the frame, then unlocked it and stepped in. He did a quick scan of the place to make sure there was nothing incriminating laying around.
The man followed him through the door, stopping a few steps in and observing the apartment. Even with his back turned, the man never really let Jason out of his sight.
“…Nice place.”
“Sure it is. Help yourself to whatever.”
“You're not worried about us goin’ through your friends' stuff?” He didn’t sound all that concerned.
“He won’t mind.”
The man didn’t make a move. It seemed like he wouldn’t do anything until Jason left, so he made his way out the door, leaving the keys on a small table. He needed to get home anyway. He had to look into these two.
Just as he was about to disappear from view, the man called out.
“Thanks. For letting us stay.”
Jason didn’t really know how to respond. He didn’t get thanked all that often, and this guy was the last person he expected to be grateful. So, he just mumbled out a No problem and made his way back to the elevator.
When the doors closed and as the machine started to move, he pulled up the feed from the apartment, projecting it in his helmet. The man (why didn’t he push for his name?) had put the kid down on the couch, and was now rummaging through the closet in the bedroom.
Jason walked out of the lobby as the man made his way back out to the couch with a pile of clothes, towels, and blankets.
As Jason aimed his grappling hook at a roof across the street, the man dumped the pile fabric on the floor, then turned towards the camera facing the couch. He took a shirt from the pile and tossed it over the camera.
God damn it.
Jason assumed that the man would cover the rest of the monitors, but he just walked back over to the pile. Jason’s view of the kid was cut off, but he could still see the man fine from behind the couch. He watched as he took the kid’s coats off and started throwing towels and blankets over him.
Jason perched on the rooftop, watching as the man moved with clear precision and care. When he was done, he picked the kid up bridal style and brought him to the bed, wrapped in layers of fabric. He set the younger down, throwing the bedsheets over him as he curled into the warmth. Then the man looked right at the camera in the bedroom, shrugged, and threw a blanket over it. He walked back into the main room, closing the door after him.
Jason watched the back of the man’s head as he sat down on the couch, and he contemplated why the man would go to all that trouble to keep the kid out of sight. Maybe the kid was in the news or something? A missing person? But Jason had already seen his face, so why bother concealing it after the fact?
He just sighed and started his trek back to his place, growing more and more curious about who these two were.
He made his way into one of the abandoned sectors of Crime Alley, finding one of his main safehouses and changing into his civilian clothes. He took his helmet off and shoved his gear into a duffel bag, then he started the short walk to his apartment. The rain had let up, and he got to the building before the cold could set in again.
He clicked his door shut and activated his security system, setting his bag down on the coffee table. He sat down in an arm chair and let himself sink into the cushions as he thought about the night.
It hadn’t gone how he thought it would, but when does it ever. At least he didn’t have to actually fight. The closest he got was chasing down those vigilantes.
He was unnerved that those guys were still running around. They had to be metas with the speed they were going, and the fact that they could hide from the bats didn’t bode well for anyone.
But, none of the bats had tried to reach out about them again, so the duo was probably still on the down low, or they were already found outside of the Alley.
He sighed and got up, grabbing his laptop from under the floorboards and rummaging through his bag for his helmet. He connected the helmet to the laptop and pulled his body cam footage from the night, shifting though it for any details of the vigilantes. He also pulled his phone out, checking the security feed from the apartment, just to make sure nothing had happened.
The man was in the exact same place, but the camera pointed at the couch had been uncovered. He had his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together as he stared straight ahead at the wall.
Seems like he was fine, then.
He turned back to the night's footage, looking for a few more minutes before determining that he didn’t have a clear shot of the new masks. So, he started running his facial analysis on the man and kid.
He booted the system up, and watched as the laptop tried to keep up with the amount of code. It took almost five minutes just for it to start.
He needed to add some mods to it soon. The monitor was going to explode at this rate.
He watched as it struggled to calculate how long the program going to take, and after a few more minutes, it flashed a six hour wait time.
God damn it.
There was no way he was gonna sit here and watch the minutes tick by, so he decided to catch some sleep while he could. He tucked the laptop and helmet back under the floor boards, then made his way to the bathroom to wash up.
He took a quick shower and set an alarm for the next morning, setting his phone on his nightstand as he pulled the covers over himself.
He fell asleep as soon as he closed his eyes.
*****
Bernard was out late tonight.
He’s not sure why he was out so late, and he’s really not sure why he was exploring the seedy parts of the city after dark, especially while it was raining so hard. He was practically asking to get mugged.
And he did get mugged. That wasn’t surprising.
What was surprising was that, before he could fight back, a man walked into the alley he was in and sighed.
“Three people just to do a shake down? Man, times must be getting tough,”
The three muggers all snapped their heads towards him.
“Who the hell are you?!” One of them yelled.
"No one important."
Everyone jumped into action at that moment, and Bernard used the opportunity to take down the man in front of him. He looked back up to find the other two muggers laid out on the ground, and the man looking Bernard over.
“You alright?”
“Yeah, all good! Thanks for the rescue,”
“No problem. You know your way back home?”
“Yup, I’ll be fine. Sorry for the trouble. I’m Bernard, by the way,”
As he spoke, Bernard took a moment to really analyze the man, and he noticed a few things that stuck out. The most glaring thing was the man’s build. He was barely an inch taller than Bernard, but the amount of muscle he had was clear, even behind the layers of clothing.
The next thing he noticed was his eyes. It was hard to see them in the low light of the alley, but they were strange. They were almost reflective, like an animal's, but with a slight green glow around the pupils.
“No trouble. Just stay safe.”
It probably wasn’t appropriate to ask about it, and the man didn’t seem like he would be willing to answer his questions.
“Will do, stranger. Have a nice night!” He needs to get home anyway. The rain was only getting worse, and it was nearly two in the morning. Plus, Tim would get all anxious if Bernard wasn’t home when he got back.
He started walking back to the marina, letting his mind wander a little. He still wasn’t sure why he was out so late, but he felt a little lighter as he moved. He had a strange suspicion that it had to do with the man he met. Specifically his eyes. They looked familiar, but he’s confident he had never met the man before tonight.
He had made it to the marina, lamenting the rain as he tried not to eat the dock of Tim’s house. Bernard had started staying there more and more often, getting tired of fighting with his parents. It was nice, having a place to live without constantly being criticized.
It was also hilarious that his neighbors thought Tim was cheating on him with Red Robin. It was especially funny when they would try and tell Bernard about it. It really took all he had to not burst out laughing when they pulled him aside.
Bernard made his way through the front door, pulling his jacket off and shaking his hair out. He pulled his shoes off and started the path to the bedroom, but he probably wasn’t going to fall asleep soon. Something was scratching his brain, and he was going to figure out what it was about the man he’d met in the alley that made him so familiar.
He pushed the bedroom door open, only to find Tim crawling through the window.
He hadn’t noticed Bernard as he closed the window, and the other jumped up a good foot in the air when he turned around and saw him standing in the doorway. It was funny to watch Tim get so startled, and Bernard didn’t stop his snort as he watched him put a hand to his chest in dramatics.
“Jesus, you scared me. What are you doing up?”
“What are you doing sneaking through the window?”
“I-there was a family emergency, they asked me to help with something important. Why are you still up? Did you step out? Your clothes are soaked.”
“So are yours. Why would you go out the window? We’ve got some perfectly good doors.”
“I didn’t want to wake you.”
“I feel like the window would wake me up more than the door would, considering how hard it’s raining. But it’s your family, so whatever you need to do. And to answer your questions, I went on a walk. I just felt the need to stretch my legs.”
“This late? Did anything happen? No one tried anything, right? You’re not hurt anywhere?”
“Nah, it was a pretty quiet night. I did meet this guy, though. He was nice, but he seemed off.”
“Off?”
“Yeah, something about him just makes my brain itch. I think it's his eyes. They were, like, reflective. Like deer in headlights type of reflective, but his were green instead of yellow.”
“Green?”
Tim’s voice was steady, but Bernard could tell that something he had said set him on edge. He observed as the other made his way to their closest, pulling out some dry clothes and peeling off the damp fabric. Bernard followed suit as he started talking.
“Yeah, it was a little weird, but who knows. Might be some kinda genetic thing. Or maybe he had some kinda surgery on his eyes. I feel like I’ve seen someone with the same thing, so it could be a possibility.”
“Yeah, it could be.”
“But also, he knew how to fight really well. It seemed like he had some martial arts skills, but I didn’t see all that much of it.”
“Who was he fighting?”
“Just a couple of muggers, but he took them down way easier than most people would.” Tim paused as he pulled a shirt over his head.
“Was he getting mugged? Did you step in and that’s how you met?”
“…Well, kinda. One of us was getting mugged, and the other did step in, but it might have been flipped.”
Tim fully turned towards Bernard, his whole demeanor laced with panic.
“You got mugged?! Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“Because it was fine. I would have been fine even if the guy didn’t step in. They weren’t even that skilled.”
“Bernard, you could have been killed! It’s the middle of the night! In Gotham! What if they had a gun?! Almost everyone has a gun! What if they had some sort of drug and-”
Bernard lightly gripped Tim's hands, cutting him off as he spoke.
“Tim, I’m fine. I know how Gotham is, but I can take care of myself. It was a little stupid of me to go out this late, and it was dumb to not let you know, but I’m fine.”
He brought them both over to the edge of the bed and sat down, still holding the other’s hands.
“But what if something happened and I couldn’t help? What if you got hurt and I wasn’t there?”
“If that did happen, then it wouldn’t be your fault. I should have at least texted you that I was going out, and I’m sorry that I worried you. But, I’m here and there’s not a scratch on me.”
“…You’re sure that you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“…Alright.”
“I’m sensing there’s something more that you wanna say.”
“You know me too well.”
“I would hope so.”
“…It’s a little stupid, but I feel bad about doubting you. I know you can take care of yourself, but it still feels like you’ll disappear if I’m not there. But at the same time…I don’t know. I just don’t want you to feel like I don’t trust you.”
“It’s not stupid. You don’t have to feel bad for caring, and I’m glad I have someone who cares about me like you do. I know you trust me, and I trust you a whole lot, too.”
Tim took a moment to take in Bernard’s words before letting out a sigh and resting his forehead on the other’s shoulder.
“Thanks, man.”
“What.”
Bernard brought his hands to the other’s shoulders and lightly pushed Tim off of him.
“Huh?”
“Don’t ‘huh’ me. Did you just call me man? After a serious conversation?”
“…No?”
“God, you’re such a loser.” Bernard felt himself smile as he pulled the other into a hug.
“I know, but I’m your loser.” He could hear Tim’s grin as he spoke.
“Yeah, you are.” He turned his face towards Tim’s and leaned in for a kiss.
They stayed like that for a while, before Tim pulled away and let out a yawn.
“It’s pretty late, we should probably head to bed.” Tim’s voice was laced with a groggy quality now that most of the adrenaline of their conversation had died down.
“Sounds like a plan.”
“…Could you get the lights, please?”
“Aye aye, captain.”
Tim let out an exasperated sigh as Bernard got up and flicked the light switch.
He climbed under the covers and smiled as he heard light snoring. He cuddled up next to Tim and fell asleep soon after.
Notes:
I hope you enjoyed reading!
I'm sorry if characters seem OOC. I'm still not all that well versed in DC, but I've been making my way through some comics.
The next chapter might take a while. Schools kicking my ass right now, so thank you for being patience :D
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