Chapter Text
Shane was dying. Literally.
He woke up late for practice, had his longest class of the day that meant he had to stare at a computer until his eyes burned and type until his knuckles ached, then he had an 8 page paper due for some random gen-ed class he needed to meet some credits, that he’d only finished a third of. And now to top it all off he was bleeding out in a dirty alley.
It was Shane’s fault that he thought the city was gonna take pity on him tonight. He was up on his usual rooftop, a great vantage point of all the dark corners of Montreal that the usual criminals hid in, the police scanner running in the background. His ears perked up at the mention of a robber who fled from the scene, and was supposedly in the area Shane happened to be in, easy enough; sometimes Shane thought he could take down a robber in his sleep. He focused himself, trying his best to hear any suspicious sounds that’d be drowned out by the traffic and usual white noise of the city by the average person. He picked up some rustling a few streets down, jumping his way across the roofs, he peered over the ledge to see a man dressed in full black, fiddling around with a backpack that had cash spilling out of it.
Shane sighed, “So unoriginal.” and climbed over the ledge, trying his best to silently crawl down the brick wall. The man clearly too occupied to pay any attention to Shane, who had landed on the ground and was just leaning against the fire escape. “Uh, hey?”
“AHHH–” The guy shouted, the bag slipping out of his hands. He reached into his pocket quickly and pulled out a gun. “Don’t come near me…I-I’ll shoot!”
“C’mon, I’m not here to hurt you. But, you gotta give me the money.” Shane huffed, putting his arms up, but slowly walking towards the guy.
The man noticed his attempts to come close and fired a couple shots, Shane easily avoiding them. “Alright I see you’re serious, but I’ve had a long day so can we just–” He shot a few webs at the guy, hitting him in the face twice, though not before the man fired a third round out of the gun which conveniently lodged itself between Shane’s ribs.
“Shit.” He huffed, pressing a hand to the bullet hole and seeing the deep red staining his palm, at least it didn’t go all the way through. The guy began to run away, but Shane’s brain finally caught up to the situation and shot webs at his feet, successfully trapping the guy and causing him to trip and fall. “Yeah, we’re done now.” he huffed, before kicking the guy hard enough to knock him out. Shane hauled him up and dragged him a few blocks down, webbing him and the bag to the wall, hoping a cop would find the guy before the web-fluid melted. He stumbled his way back to the fateful alley he had been shot in, crumpling down in the corner. He really didn’t want to— his mom would probably call him 31 times and the idea of being so close to the trash made him feel like he’d practically jumped in it. Though he couldn’t help himself as he collapsed into the brick wall, lifting his mask just above his nose so he could breathe a bit better, the cool rock was nice on his sweaty face.
“Fuck–” He winced, clutching tightly at his ribs and laying his head against the wall behind him, closing his eyes. “Just gonna catch my breath…”
“Are you dead?” Is what Shane woke up to, along with the rough feel of leather against his cheek, patting him. Shane furrowed his brows, eye focusing in the dark to the masked man in front of him. His mask wasn’t too different from his own…was this guy a copy? He wasn’t unfamiliar with people who tried to be a masked vigilante, he’d seen many, whether they were doing it for good or bad, trip and fall on their faces. Usually getting into some fight which led them to be saved by Shane and given a stern talking to that this job is for him, and him alone.
The man kept staring at him, checking his wrist like he had a watch there, and then he moved his hand towards Shane’s jaw to shake it. Shane decided he finally had to acknowledge his presence.
“Hi?” He said, pulling his mask down.
“BLYAT– uh…hello?” The man jumped back, now out of Shane’s face but still kneeling towards him. Shane immediately noted his accent, it was a little hard to hear through the mask but Shane was cursed/blessed with hearing turned up to 11. His voice was deep, and probably would’ve found it hot if it weren’t for his confused about who the fuck this guy was, especially while Shane was quite vulnerable. “Did you leave a guy on the wall a few streets down?” He asked, pointing a thumb towards the direction that Shane did happen to leave the robber.
“Yeah–”
“Well he’s gone now.” The man shrugged back at him.
“Shit. Did you catch him?” Shane said as he stood up, no longer needing to clutch his ribs, though they did ache as he raised. The man also stood off his knees, he had a few inches over Shane.
“Nah, not my problem. I have dealt with my share tonight.”
“Your– share?!” Shane repeated incredulously.
“Da, I am done with work for tonight. I clocked out.” He shrugged again, Shane was sick of it already. Who did this guy think he was? Coming up to Shane while he’s knocked out, copying his suit, and then not even dedicating himself to helping? Shane wishes he could ‘clock out’ but the bad guys don’t stop so he can’t.
“You can’t just clock out of– helping people?!” This was working up Shane too much, he was flailing his arms, it would be embarrassing if it wasn’t in front of this total douchebag.
The masked guy tutted, “Ah I never said I was helping–”
Shane turned to him, and raised his wrist. “You’re not?”
“Well, yes I am, but probably not to your standard. Seeing as you left your criminal friend still… uh, breathing. And please do not shoot your white stuff at me, I do not let first dates come on my face. Maybe date two or three..”
“Gross! And I left him there for the cops to find, they can deal with him.” Shane crossed his arms, why was he even still wasting his time here?
“Who he got away from in the first place? Great idea–” The man paused.
“Spider-Man”
“Very original.”
“Says you, are you a copy of me?” He knew it was rude to ask so bluntly, but it’s even ruder to be copying someone else ,especially doing it so poorly. (And this guy is on Shane’s final final final straw.) The man’s costume could pass for him in the dark, maybe. The man had a black suit with red and yellow accents. Yellow surrounded his eyes, which were a piercing white, along with some leather pieces that trailed along his abdomen. He was kitted out with guns, one faceted on a thigh holster, and two sword handles showing behind his shoulders. (He thought they almost looked like hockey sticks, maybe he hit his head at some point.) Shane would bet his multitude of scholarships that this guy was a bad guy.
“Excuse me?” He scoffed, pointing a finger at Shane. “You are copy of me, if anything.”
“I was here first— you don’t sound like you’re from Canada.”
“I am not, but I will be a Canadian citizen soon. I thought you were supposed to be a hero, Spider-Man. To me you just sound like stuck-up asshole.” Shane couldn’t see his eyes, but he felt their glare regardless.
“Please I-“ Shane blubbers at himself for a second before groaning, fingers digging into his scalp through the mask. “Fuck off!”
“Is okay. I know, big man spider is too busy letting guys go to know all the other ‘shitty’ heroes, he thinks they are all too busy trying to be him.”
“That’s not true!” Shane huffs. “I know plenty of other heroes.”
“Yet you decided to die in alley alone?”
Shane scoffs. He has plenty of friends, and has worked with other heroes, all of them specifically not copies of him. He just doesn’t like to work with others, it’s just how he’s always been. The only other time he can really work as a team is during hockey, which is also a stretch. Though this asshole doesn’t need to know any of that. “I just work alone, which I should be getting back to by now.”
“So soon Spider-Man?” Shane can see his exaggerated pout from under the mask. “We were just getting to know each other…”
He rolled his eyes, even though the other guy couldn’t see, turning and lifting his arm out to launch a web, turning his head over his shoulder. “Bye…” Shane paused awkwardly, realizing he never learned the name of the knock-off version of him. Shane launched the web, and as he was swinging away he heard a faint shout of the name ‘Deadpool’ yelled from the alley, he wasn’t even sure if he heard it right, he shrugged, it’s not like he’d ever see the guy again anyway.
—
Shane’s bad day streak was still going. He was chewed out by his mom for not answering her calls, having to make some lame excuse about a late study session. He had to do self surgery at 1 AM and though the wound had closed fine, his ribs fucking ached, so practice was hell. Not just because of the pain, but because he was told that starting tomorrow there would be an international student joining their team. That was– not the best news to Shane, he’d already adjusted to his team, and they have been doing well recently, adding a new person to the mix had stressed him out in ways that felt unreasonable.
“How’re you feeling about the new guy?” Hayden asked as they took off their gear in the locker room. Shane could tell Hayden was waiting to ask him all practice with the way he floated around him the whole time, Shane snorted at his attempt to be nonchalant about it, waiting a few minutes until hounding him.
“Fine.” Shane grumbled.
“You don’t have to lie to me, man. I see the gears turning in that head of yours.” Hayden laughed softly, elbowing Shane.
“I just– a new guy mid-season? I feel like that’ll throw off our whole balance.” Shane said, trying to avoid Hayden’s (probably) judgy glare.
“You mean it’ll throw off your balance. It’ll probably be fine dude, professional teams add players mid-season all the time.”
Shane shrugs, placing his gear neatly in his bag wordlessly before pointing a thumb towards the showers. Hayden gives a thumbs up to Shane before stuffing his chestplate in his already overflowing bag, to which Shane cringes in response. Shane’s grateful for Hayden, really. He’s his best friend (some would say one of his only, which Shane ignores) he rationalizes Shane when he gets worked up about a play not going his way or a homework assignment just not clicking in his brain, but sometimes Hayden just doesn’t get it. Shane cannot get the gut wrenching feeling of having to walk into the locker room tomorrow to have to introduce himself to a new face in the middle of February.
He walks to the farthest shower in the corner, he still has some cuts and bruises from the night before that he does not want to have to make up an excuse about. He tosses his towel on the hanger, turning the water on and stepping under the fall. He sighs, trying to relax himself and wash out the strain in his neck and shoulders. He washed himself with the shitty locker room soap, trying especially hard to clean his wound without showing it off, and then hastily drying off so he could throw on a shirt. He walked back into the locker room, just Hayden and a few other stragglers left, Hayden was on his phone texting his girlfriend.
“All done?” Hayden slipped his phone into his hoodie pocket.
“Yeah, I’ve been waiting on you, loverboy.” Shane joked.
“Har-har.” Hayden rolled his eyes, getting up with his gear back slung over his shoulder, bumping into Shane slightly. “You’re just jealous, but don’t worry, we’ll find you someone this year.”
“I’m not jealous, and really it’s fine Hayd. I’m too busy for a partner anyways.” Shane huffed. And it was true, even without Spider-Man stuff, Shane was still the captain of their hockey team, an honors student, and had so much homework he didn’t know what to do with it. He’s repeated this to Hayden on numerous occasions but Hayden is relentless when it comes to finding Shane a boyfriend. As annoying as it is, Shane is glad that Hayden doesn’t care that he’s gay, he just wants him to not be “as sad and lonely” as he gives off.
“You always say that, but I really think it’ll help to have someone in your life to help you manage that–” Shane opened his mouth to retort, but Hayden finished his sentence first. “Who is not me. I love you, man, you know that. But I cannot be your only friend.”
“I have Rose–”
“Not better, your ex-girlfriend who doesn’t even go to school with you. And don’t say JJ either.”
“We’re not having this conversation again.” Thank god, they were finally in their cars.
“One day Shane.” Hayden said as he tossed his bag into his trunk, just before Shane got into his car. “One day.”
“Yeah alright.” Shane shook his head. “See you in class, dude.” He shut the door, started the car and had barely even made it out of the parking lot before his phone rang, he just answered it, knowing it was his mom.
“Hey mo–”
‘Is this Shane Hollander?’
“Oh, uh…hi sorry, yes this is him.”
‘Hi Mr. Hollander, this is Montreal University’s International Student Board. As a part of your honors program, you were put in to be a leader to any new students, and you were elected to lead one of our new international students. He arrived today, but he is still getting situated. We’ll need you in our offices tomorrow at noon to introduce you two and let you know what the expectations are as a leader.’
Shane was a little shocked. He knew it was a part of his program, but everyone he had talked to said it wasn’t very often they actually had students who joined midsemester– especially international ones. How was he even elected? He’s probably the worst candidate, do they know this? (then again, how was he bit by some freaky ass spider? Clearly the universe has it out for him.)
“Wow, uh, I am honored, really. But uh– do you think there is someone better fit for the job?” Shane mumbled, he didn’t really know what to do but he knew he had to get out of whatever this was.
‘Ah well, once you are elected, unless there is a serious cause, you cannot back out. The only other way would be if there ended up being a serious conflict between you two which could result in a leader swap. The leadership only lasts about a few weeks or so, the transfer decides when they are ready to work on their own. At most the leadership can last about a month and a half.’
God, there was no way Shane could back out without looking like a dick. He could do this…he was literally shot last night, he can handle helping some guy out for a month, getting some service credits and then never having to talk to him again.
“Alright.”
‘Great. We’ll see you tomorrow at 12, Mr. Hollander– oh and you’ll be happy to know, he’s a hockey guy, I believe he’s joining your team tomorrow.’
“Oh, that’s cool.” It wasn’t. “Thanks for calling.” He was not grateful in the slightest.
‘Bye Mr. Hollander.’
And the line went dead. Shane’s day could truly not get any worse.