This just in, the Falcone crime group has been using Wayne Inc resources to ship illegal goods around Gotham. This news came in from an anonymous tip to the GCPD leading to a mass investigation of Wayne Inc warehouses and suppliers. This is just after the revelation that the Falcone family was involved in many shady deals with the Waynes…

Good, Otto thought. As the newscaster’s face was blared on one of the TVs in his little sewer cave, he smiled gleefully. The Waynes were gobbling themselves up.

Wait hold on, there’s been a sudden update. Bruce Wayne, I repeat Bruce Wayne, CEO of the Wayne Inc is planning on making a public statement tonight…

Otto paused. This was cause for concern. Unless it was just a PR stunt…

Where he will relinquish key details about the Master Planner. A man who has been called a ‘freedom fighter’ by many. In said conference he’ll reveal details about his absence and…

Otto felt his fingers tremble. His tentacle lashed out at the TV screen as he scrambled around his cave to find an encrypted communication device.

Cracks split the face of the blonde news reporter., Otto’s reflection could be seen through the broken glass, his face split in two.

…

“Are you sure about this?” Alfred asked.

“Yes, I am,” Bruce said, running his fingers through the suits and ties hanging in his massive closet that Alfred lined up for his press conference. “I’ve lived in fear of being exposed for far too long.”

“That’s all well and good,” Alfred said. “But I take it you have a plan, a missing leg is not that hard to hide, you know?”

Bruce smirked as he swept through all the ties, picking up a bowtie. “You know me, Alfred. I always have a plan.” Down in the bowels of the Batcave, Lucius Fox was being called.

…

Gordon already had a stressful enough day. Arranging cops back and forth around Gotham because of the unexpected Wayne announcement. What’s more Batman anticipated an assassination attempt from the Master Planner so that was another headache to deal with alongside his other responsibilities as Commissioner. The boys in his precinct also didn’t like that they had to work with Crime Alley’s own Daredevil after the whole shtick he pulled with the Gladiator earlier this year, he had to do a lot, a lot to keep things in order and he prayed to God things wouldn’t get worst.

“Commissioner,” Montoya said. “There’s someone on the rooftop, wants to see you.”

Apparently, he wasn’t a pious enough man. He took a painkiller, already anticipating the migraine that was coming.

“Who is it?” he asked, getting up. “The bat doesn’t come out this time of day.”

“Said he wanted to keep it a surprise,” Montoya said, trying her best to hide her grin. The precinct got a load off stressing him out, he didn’t expect the good ones to do that too. “And I don’t want to piss him off, you know? Hierarchy and all that…”

“Yeah,” Gordon said, forcing a grin. “You should be worried about pissing me off more. Next time you pull a stunt like this you’re fired.”

That shut the girl up. Montoya left him at the door. With a heavy sigh, Gordon opened the door.

“Hey Commish,” said Spider-Man, leaning against the bat signal with his arms crossed. “Did you miss me?”

“No,” Gordon said, walking past Spider-Man and leaning against the roof. Should’ve brought his coffee. Batman was a lot of things but at least he only talked when he needed to.

“That’s not a way to treat someone who saved your life,” Spider-Man said. “Why if it wasn’t for me…”

“Could you just shut it and get to the point, kid?” Gordon interrupted. “Some of us have jobs to do.”

“Someone’s in a bad mood,” Spider-Man said as if he were talking to a baby. Gordon gave him a harsh stare and Spider-Man raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. Curt Connors turned himself into a giant lizard and he’s looking for his boy.”

“Goddammit,” Gordon whispered. He turned to Spider-Man. “I thought we had cops all around town looking for him, how…”

“They’re dead,” Spider-Man said, his voice serious. “We found out hacking the radios…”

“We?” Gordon raised an eyebrow.

He knew he had Spider-Man when he tensed up.

“Me and Batman,” he quickly said.

Gordon knew he was lying but didn’t care too much about why. “I’m going to have a word with your boss later.” He frowned. “First the whole Wayne thing and now this.”

“You’ll have me dealing with Connors,” Spider-Man said with a thumbs up.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Gordon said, he shuffled through his pockets looking for his cigarette box. He pulled out the crumpled-up box and squeezed out a cigarette. Spider-Man stared at it. With that damn mask on he couldn’t get a read on him, but it looked as if he didn’t want Gordon to do it. He lit the cigarette.

“Shouldn’t you be at school?”

Spider-Man turned around. “What makes you say that? I do have somewhere to be but…”

Gordon scoffed. “Whatever. Just remember with that Lizard business that tonight’s a school night.”

“You know I really don’t like being infantilised,” Spider-Man said as he jumped down the roof.

Gordon scoffed. “Teenagers and their fancy words.” He watched as Spider-Man became a small red and black dot in the distance. No worries in the world like authorizing SWAT teams to assist with the Connors protection team by tonight. For an annoying loudmouth, the kid sure was responsible. Gordon wished him well.

…

His tentacles slithered around the room without the grace that he was normally used to seeing. That irritated him. Everything irritated him.

The fact that his ‘special’ squadron wasn’t responding, the fact that the black-market contracts weren’t going through. The fact that he was anxious at just what was going to be revealed about him at the press conference. The fact that he had a date with May and her nephew tonight. The fact that he didn’t want May to know him… the fact that…

The claws screeched on the walls, causing a tear. He slammed his fist on the computer dashboard. His phone rang. Otto looked at his phone, it was May. He picked up.

“Hey Otty,” May said. Hearing her voice, it was as if the worries in his body evaporated. Everything was calm, still. Even his arms. “I’m just checking up on you, seeing if you’re going to make it to our little dinner tonight?”

He hesitated. If Bruce Wayne had his way, what would she think of him afterwards? If he was exposed, what would she do, what would she say? The public’s scorn he could bear but hers. Never hers.

“Hello,” May said. “Are you alive?”

“Yes, sorry,” Otto muttered. “The signal is bad down here. I… I can make it.”

“Good,” May said, her voice chirpier. “Good, good.” The excitement in his voice made his heart skip too. “Peter says he’s coming too, he sounded excited and…”

Her head was so up in the clouds that she finally caught herself. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I uh… sorted things out with Peter. He says he’s fine with you, it’s just…”

“Complicated? I understand,” Otto said. The things the boy said, it scathed his pride. If it weren’t for May and his legs, he’d probably pommel him for such insolence. It seemed, however, that May brought out the best in him. She always did.

“Yeah, I’d love to talk more but I have work and…” her voice trailed off. “Are you alright? You seem awfully quiet.”

He wished she didn’t remind him. “Just a stressful day at work. Some entitled rich kid not doing what he’s told…”

May groaned on his behalf. “Oh, I get those at work all the time. You think they’d listen to you, a doctor of all people.”

The story he told her was that he was a doctor, working in prosthetics. It wasn’t very far from the truth and maybe after all of this he could be. Maybe after all of this, she’d still…

“Maybell,” Otto said, his voice suddenly firm.

“Yes,” she stopped in the middle of her rant. Always so eager to listen, always so kind. “What’s going on, Otty?”

“Whatever happens,” Otto said. “Whatever you may hear about me, do you still…”

“Yes Otto,” May said. “I’ll always be there for you, no matter what.” She seemed surprised saying those words, but he knew in his heart that she meant them.

“No, I mean…” he struggled. He wanted to say those three words. Those three, hard to say words. He clenched his fists. He knew what he wanted to say, but why couldn’t he say those words?

“We’ll talk about it when you get here this evening, yeah,” May said. “Take care of yourself till then, yeah?”

Otto nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Have a good day.”

May chuckled. “Oh, thanks for reminding me I have to say this to every customer with a big, forced smile on my face.”

Otto laughed. Maybell always cheered him up. no matter how bad his day was. And it looked like he wouldn’t have to be in such a dour mood today. His assassination team was ready and if that didn’t work, he still had the black market to rely on.

…

“Today is going to be a busy day, huh?” Barbara asked.

Peter groaned. “Tell me about it. I have to deal with the Lizard and when I’m done with that…”

“Bruce,” Barbara said, her voice unpleasant. “I was ready to hang up but with that news report.”

“Ock isn’t going to take that well,” Peter said. “And to top it all off I have a meeting with May’s new boyfriend.”

“Speaking off, you never mentioned who…”

Jason coughed, interrupting them. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?”

“You’re on the bench,” Peter said. “You messed up last time and…”

Barbara pinched him. “We talked about this,” she hissed.

“Talked about what?’ Peter asked. “Him being useless.”

“Peter,” Barbara yelled. “Seriously man what the hell’s wrong with you?”

“You’re still an asshole,” Jason muttered.

Peter clenched his fists, turning around.

“Nothing’s going to happen if you don’t talk about what you’re feeling,” Barbara said.

“I’m feeling like you joining us on this mission is dumb,” Peter said. “Sitting down with messed up legs and you want to fight a giant lizard, real smart of you?”

“It’s not about the legs,” Barbara snapped. “I’m the only one…”

“No, you’re not,” Peter shot back. “You say it’s not about the legs but what you’re doing says otherwise.”

Behind them they heard the whir of a grappling hook. “If you babies are just going to argue I’m outta here. You’ll see meat the rendezvous point.”

“Get back here Jase,” Peter called out. “There’s no way you can handle him without…”

Jason left before Peter could stop him.

Peter let out a ‘tch’ of disapproval. “Now I have to look out for this brat too.”

“Peter, we need to talk,” Barbara said, her voice low. “Otherwise… I don’t know how long we can go on like this.”

Peter’s phone got a message. “I need to help out May with the dinner…”

Suddenly the spark of realisation hit Barbara. “Ever since May’s new boyfriend you’ve been like this.” She scoffed. “Daddy issues much?”

Peter paused, the serious look on his face sent a shiver down her spine. “You did not say that.”

Barbara wanted to roll back her wheelchair when he met his intense glare. She knew she said something that she couldn’t take back.

Peter let out a sigh, it made Barbara wanted to breathe out in relief too.

“Just do your job, I’ll do mine,” Peter said. The coldness in his voice breaking her heart.

“Peter, wait,” Barbara said, reaching out to him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Peter put on his mask, hiding his expression. She wanted to see his face so badly. To take back everything she said but the mask was like a wall between them.

Peter leapt out through the skylight. “We’ll do our mission and after that…” Peter’s voice was shaking. “After that we won’t talk again.”

He left Barbara alone in front of her computer, trying her best to hold back her tears.

…

“I really hope you thought this out,” Lucius said, his face magnified by the Batcomputer screen.

“You know me, Lucius.” It had been a while since he practiced as Bruce Wayne. To get into character he sipped a glass of wine. “Did you send what I requested?”

“Yes, I did,” Lucius said. “Your plan is insane enough to work.”

Bruce nodded.

“It better work though,” Lucius said. “The PR is a nightmare, and the board is going insane.”

“You’ll keep them at bay, you’re always so good dealing with that pack of lions.”

“Yeah,” Lucius said. “This time around there’s meat sticking all over my body and they’re very very hungry lions.”

“You’ll handle it,” Bruce said.

Lucius gave him his best forced smile. “I always do,” he said and hung up.

Alfred, dutiful as ever stood by his side. “The media are swarming the manor walls like flies. They’re waiting for you to step out.”

“Did you see any serious looking types on the camera?”

On the screen, amidst the sea of newscasters and news trucks, men with hard, scarred faces hung back in the shadows wearing simple clothing to fit in the crowd.

“What’s Daredevil saying?” Bruce asked, locking his fingers.

“He’s saying the crowds are packed,” Alfred said. “There’s too much interference to directly confirm but he can smell gunpowder and cyanide.”

“Tell him to keep his senses open,” Bruce said.

Alfred nodded. “I do wonder how you managed to get Mr. Murdock’s help. He doesn’t seem the type to be interested in protecting the upper class.”

“Otto’s little side projects extended to some of the destitute kids in Crime Alley,” Bruce said. “The parents want justice.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow. “I know lawyers and they don’t do jobs like this for free.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Bruce sighed. “I promised him a good word with Bruce Wayne to donate a generous grant to his law firm.”

Alfred nodded.

“Do you think Master Parker will join in with us?” Alfred asked. “His strength would be very useful.”

“I have him handling the Connors,” Bruce said. “Apparently, he’s also involved in this mess. Using my money.”

There was a pause as Alfred and Bruce sat in silence. Alfred was the first one to break it.

“There’s a chance,” Alfred said. “That this doesn’t go well. You get there and the people still support the Master Planner. All your actions…” He paused. “It might be too late to reclaim the goodwill you’ve lost.”

Bruce leaned back on his chair. “I know. But he has assassins stationed outside my home, there’s something he’s hiding, something he doesn’t want the world knowing. Otherwise, he wouldn’t do this. If I die…”

“You’re not going to die,” Alfred interjected.

“If I die the damage to his cause would be substantial,” Bruce said, scratching his chin. “So why risk it?”

“Do you think maybe he’s not doing this for the causes he stated?” Alfred asked. “Freedom, liberty?”

“I know he’s not doing this for the reasons he claims he is,” Bruce said. “But that begs the question. If he’s not doing it for the cause, why take it this far?”

“Spite,” Alfred said plainly. “Sometimes a man is so caught up in his malice and pettiness that by the time the fuel runs out, he looks behind him and realises that he has nothing left. Otto Octavius is a man inches away from his deathbed. Maybe the spite is all he has.”

A black and white picture of Otto appeared on the screen. In it he was young, eager. Greeting Bruce’s father and mother.

“It’s a shame,” Bruce said. “He was an amazing mind.”

And deep down, Bruce felt a twisted sense of indebtedness to the man. A thankfulness that he exposed the monsters he was shaking the hands off in the photo before him.

…

Peter was running late. While swinging through the streets of Gotham he kept wondering what excuse he would give to Aunt May to leave to hunt down the Lizard. Barbara had given him the location, all he had to do was make it on time before he decided to kill even more cops.

His phone started ringing, messages and missed called filled his inbox aplenty. He took out his phone and messaged her saying he’ll be home soon. He finally made it to the rooftop of his apartment, tossing his costume aside and trying to straighten out the creased suit he wore underneath it. He shoved his costume in his bag and webbed it against a random air vent. Straightening out his tousled hair and creased suit, he took a deep breath before realising…

“Shit, I webbed up the flowers too!”

He tore it out of the webs, making sure that not a single thread of his webs remained on it before climbing down the staircase to his apartment building, calling Aunt May to tell her he was here.

When he opened the door, Aunt May was waiting. When she saw him, her eyes widened. “What happened to your suit?” she hissed under her breath. “And your hair…”

At that moment some of the flowers he had gotten started floating down to the floor. Aunt May face palmed. She sighed.

“He’s in the living room. Just go and greet him,” Aunt May groaned. “And try not to embarrass yourself…”

Peter straightened his back and was ready to walk over to him before finally realising…

“Oh yeah, Aunt May,” Peter whispered. “I have something to tell you.”

Aunt May had a tight grip on his shoulder. “Can’t it wait?”

“It has to do with school,” Peter said. “See I have a group project and my group has a meeting…”

“Like I said, can’t it wait?” she hissed, her grip getting tighter.

“Ow, no,” Peter said. “My group’s meeting tonight…”

Aunt May gave him a stare that would freeze hell over. “I thought you said you were going to talk to him…”

“I’m not doing this to avoid Otto, I swear,” Peter whispered. “I’m just…”

“Maybell,” Otto called out from the living room. “What’s the hold up?”

“No,” May whispered. “You’re not going!”

“But May…”

“I said no,” May said and that was that. “Now go over there and greet Otto.”

“It’s your fault if I fail,” Peter whispered back, walking over to greet Otto. He was glad to see him looking just a teensy bit nervous, glancing at the TV screen as Bruce made his first media appearance in a long time.

Otto turned to Peter, trying his best to give him a smile despite how nervous he looked. “Peter,” he stammered out. “How are you? You look like a truck hit you.”

Peter let out a nervous laugh. “Traffic was a mess. I’m so sorry I’m late.” He handed him the flowers.

“Brilliant minds are usually…” Peter caught his eyes darting at the TV screen as he took the flowers from him. “Late…” he muttered.

The TV was blasting news about Bruce. Everybody in what seemed like America was talking about Bruce’s long awaited media appearance. Cameras were pointed at the mansion and at the crowd standing in front of the manor. Crowds that probably had assassins.

“Let’s just switch that off,” May said with a smile, picking up the remote. Only Otto’s reflection remained in the dark screen.

“Could you switch it on?” Otto mumbled. “I need to…”

“It’s just a rich person on the news,” May said. “What else is new?”

“Well, May,” Otto said. Peter could hear the tension in his voice that he promptly tried to cover up with a smile. “This just a rich person could change the political landscape of Gotham as we know it.”

“Again,” May said with a smile. “What else is new?”

Otto let out a defeated sigh, turning to Peter. “So, how’s school going?”

Otto didn’t seem as enthusiastic to meet him as he was when they first met.

“It’s uh… a lot,” Peter said. “Lots of work. Really boring.”

“May tells me you’re almost done with High School,” Otto said as Peter took a seat across from him. “Do you have any universities lined up?”

At that, Peter paused. He was right. After this semester it’d be his final year of high school. It seemed like he’d been doing this whole high school thing for ages but now he was in the final stretch.

“No,” Peter said, twiddling his thumbs around the cup Aunt May had just handed him. “No, I don’t.”

There was a look on Otto’s face, a look Peter wasn’t used to seeing. A look of understanding. It threw Peter off.

“Dinner’s ready!”

This time around, Aunt May had made steak. The smell made Peter’s stomach grumble.

“Well,” Otto said with a chuckle, placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Let’s dig in.”

…

It was almost like history when Bruce stepped out off the door.

The waves of questions.

“Are you aware of the funding…”

“That boy in your mansion…”

“Are you aware of the allegations levied against your family name…”

“What happened to your leg…”

He was guided along by the police who shoved aside the media hounds. Despite all his best attempts to head to the GCN building in his own vehicle, the police insisted on him accompanying them, complicating his plans. It seemed they put more effort on getting him to safety than in their daily patrols around Gotham. Surrounded by all these people, all these questions and lights he felt exposed. He felt naked without the heavy suit, the gadgets at his disposal and the safety of his actions being the ‘right’ thing to do. Here, every smile would be scrutinized, every wave analysed. Here, he was the crime scene being analysed but unlike a crime scene, the facts at the end of the day would be murky.

He was gently pushed into the back of the armoured police truck. The cops shoved aside the media hounds with shields. Overhead, a police helicopter roared, shining a light on the sea of faces and the mics of the reporters, all eager to get whatever scoop they could fish out. Bruce was surprised to see the logo of the Daily Globe and Now! Magazine.

The officer in by the door gave a signal upwards and the helicopter retreated. The officer on the left entered the truck, giving Bruce a nod despite his heavily armoured and covered face that Bruce couldn’t read. The second officer went in the car and closed the door with a heavy slam.

Finally, silence.

…

“Commissioner, I’d advise against this. The witness reports…”

“To hell with the witness reports, the kid needs a human face, not guys in masks.”

From his perch atop the trees, Jason or ‘Red Hoodie’ (though he didn’t feel like calling himself that) watched the Commissioner enter the safehouse from a police vehicle. On the surface, it looked basic. A normal house in the middle of the woods but standing around the perimeter were heavily armed SWAT guards equipped with state-of-the-art weapons and technology that were well prepared deal with a giant lizard. Jason also noted the placements of the guards making it easy to sneak past them. And if he could do that, he had a feeling Curt could too.

From Bruce’s safehouse he raided in his Red Hoodie days he’d managed to sneak in a utility belt. On it was one of the cures that Peter and Barbara cooked up, sizzling a bright green. Jason just had to find a piece of skin and jam it into him (or so he heard). How he’d do that with something full of scales he didn’t know.

Barbara also made an app that scrambled police signals and allowed him to hack into police communications without being trace. That girl had a massive brain.

And she looked pretty. With the freckles and the green eyes and the…

Focus, Jason. Focus!

He hoped he hid how hot his face felt when she smiled at him.

Jason sat back on the tree, tracing the police conversations until he caught something. However, he found himself locked into one conversation in particular.

“Hey, are you okay?” Gordon asked, his voice soft.

Billy mumbled something unintelligible.

“You need anything? Snacks or… a video game or…?” from Gordon’s voice, Jason knew it had been a long time since he ever interacted with a child. Jason didn’t know why but it made him smile, it also made his heart ache.

“No,” Billy sobbed out. “I… Where’s my mummy? Where’s my father? I heard them say he’s a cop killer, but my father wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t kill the police.”

“They’re things going on,” Gordon said. “Things you won’t understand now… but…”

Jason heard the ruffling of something, through the window he saw Gordon place a coat around Billy’s shoulders.

“We’re doing our best to protect you,” Gordon said, giving a smile. “It may not seem like it, but things are going to be okay.”

Billy collapsed into Gordon’s arms. The only thing he could hear was his sobs.

Jason cut off the comm and put on his mask. Back to business. His mother used to say it would be okay.

It never was.

…

Peter was starting to feel anxious as the night went on. Aunt May had taken both up on the roof to have drinks and dessert. She played some sappy music from the sixties and both Otto and May were dancing. Well, ‘dancing’. May just spun his wheelchair around in circles to the tune of the song. Peter couldn’t help but smile. They looked so happy together. But seeing them together and being so happy reminded him of Barbara and that sent a needle through his heart.

“Come on Pete,” Aunt May said, calling him forward. “Let’s dance together!”

“Nah, I’ll let you two lovebirds enjoy the dance floor,” Peter said. “Just don’t turn up the music too loud. We’re already in enough trouble with Mr. Lee.”

“Come on Peter join us,” Otto called after him. “Distract yourself from whatever’s going on in your head.”

Shit, how did he know about…

“May told me you looked distracted,” Otto said, rolling over to him. “What seems to be the problem?”

Peter almost breathed out a sigh of relief right in front of Otto. He was glad May didn’t tell him he had a girlfriend.

“It’s fine, I uh don’t want to talk about it,” Peter said. He turned away from him, leaning over the ridge of the roof. “It’s just a school stuff.”

“Sure, doesn’t seem like school stuff,” Otto said.

“Sure, doesn’t seem like any of your business,” Peter shot back. The moment he said it, he regretted it. He glanced quickly at May who looked away just as fast.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, turning away from the hurt on Otto’s face (what gave him the right to feel that way?). “I didn’t mean to lash out, I just…”

“No,” Otto said. “I shouldn’t have butted in, I’ll go back…”

For some stupid reason, at that moment, Peter felt bad for the man in the wheelchair. He thought to himself, sure he tried to kill me, but let’s hear him out. Maybe he has some killer advice. Just like Peter wasn’t Spider-Man twenty-four seven, neither was Otto the Master Planner.

Wonderful leaps of logic for a scientist, Peter berated himself.

“No, stay,” Peter said. “I’m sorry I lashed out like that. I’m just… stressed.”

Otto turned to face him. Seeing the concern in his eyes, in that moment Peter saw his humanity. The person behind the Master Planner’s pitch-black goggles.

“I feel like two different people,” Peter said. “On one hand I have all these gifts that I can use for good but when I use those gifts it comes at the cost of my relationships. I…”

Peter scoffed. “Using those gifts, they’re like work. You know like a 9-5. It’s exhausting and when I talk to people, people I love.” Peter let out a drawn-out sigh. Talking about this felt as exhausting as thinking about it. “You don’t want to talk about work, do you? But sometimes it feels like all the people ever see is your work, you know? They never see you.”

Peter hesitated, seeing Otto listen so intently, listen like he cared it was hard to imagine him launching a spike through his thigh. It was hard to imagine him being a threat to him and his girlfriend if he ever found out just what those gifts were but at the same time, seeing him listen so intently it was easy to see why May loved him so much even though he was hiding so much for her. That’s when it hit him. Battling every single mental reservation he had, he had to pull the words out of his mouth.

“I’m not talking to someone I… I care about because she said I’m ungrateful. She said I have all these gifts and I’m not using them and I’m ungrateful. And if you have these gifts, you’re supposed to use them responsibly, right? Otherwise, you’re just being an asshole,” Peter said. “But it’s because of these gifts that I’m so caught up, it’s because of these gifts that…”

“I’m going to have to stop you there, Peter,” Otto interrupted. “I… I’m sorry for the interruption it’s just you seem obsessed. Obsessed with these gifts of yours and I think I may understand what you’re going through.”

Otto rolled over to him, looking down from the edge of the roof as best he could on his wheelchair. “I had gifts. Gifts like yours that took me far, made me famous. But when they were threatened to be stolen from me, when the work those gifts brought me were going to be stolen…” And there it was. There was the anger in his voice. The anger that almost got him and Bruce killed. “When you talked about only being seen for your gifts, I understood that. I let my gifts consume me to the point that it was all I had. And then it was taken from me from people who used it as a mean to an end and after that all I had left was my resentment and spite.”

Otto smiled. It was a self-mocking smile. “Make sure your gifts aren’t all you have left, Peter. Don’t end up like me.”

They stared at the street below. In the distance, police sirens howled.

“That was an intense conversation,” Peter said, chuckling to break the tension. Otto laughed too.

“May told me you had commitments,” Otto said.

Peter was suddenly reminded of the Lizard situation. “Oh shit, I have uh group work.” Peter paused, hoping his excuse was consistent. “I’m sorry to throw this on you…”

Otto shook his head. “It’s fine. Go ahead.”

“Thanks for the talk,” Peter said. “See you next time.”

Otto smiled, waving at him. “See you next time.”

Aunt May called after him, giving him the usual: Stay safe! Dress warm! When he was sure he was out of site he grabbed his bag from the air vent, scrambling down the stairs and putting on his costume before finally leaping out through a window, feeling the air on his body.

As he swung through the city, Peter thought about Otto. Thought about how both of them were hiding from the people they loved, to disastrous consequences.

…

It started to rain. The heavy drops hit the metal of the truck.

“Great weather, eh boys?” Bruce asked. The officers muttered amongst themselves. Some of them chuckled. Bruce smiled. “Guess it’s got you down.”

These officers were oddly disciplined amidst some rich and famous. None of them had asked Bruce for his autograph. Barring the slight offense he felt, it struck him as strange.

And when two officers at the end of the car nodded at each other, Bruce knew why.

“Sorry, Mr. Wayne,” said one of the officers, pulling out a gun. “The Master Planner sends his regards.”

It happened so fast that Bruce almost didn’t catch it. Before the officer could shoot a red baton knocked him in the head.

“What the…”

The officer on Bruce’s left took out his helmet revealing a red horned helmet.

“Fucks sake, how many guys does he have on his payroll?” said the officer sitting on his right. He pulled out a pistol from his holster. Daredevil yelled duck, Bruce ducked, and Daredevil punched him in the first.

In simultaneous succession, the two guards sitting across them started to reach for their guns. Bruce kicked one of them in their shin while Daredevil threw another baton. The first guard that started the altercation started to stir; Bruce kicked him in the face. The guard on Bruce’s right kneed him in the face. The world around him turned but there was a flash of red and the guard was tackled across the floor. Bruce grabbed a baton through the haze around him and knocked a guard standing behind Daredevil that was ready to fire at him in the shin. The guard yelled out in pain as Daredevil used the guard, he was in a headlock with to pivot on the front of the truck in a semicircle to kick him in the face before tossing the other one on the ground, knocking him out.

The guards were knocked all knocked out. The truck screeched to a halt.

“You fight well,” Daredevil said. “For a trust fund kid.”

Bruce wiped the blood from his nose. “You’d be surprised what money can buy.”

Bruce and Daredevil heard the click of automatic weaponry. The guards by the door were ready to open fire. Bruce and Daredevil rushed to the truck doors.

“On my count,” Daredevil said. “We open this up.”

And seconds before the guards could pull their triggers, the door slammed on their faces. Both Daredevil and Bruce disarmed them before elbowing them in the face, knocking them out.

“I didn’t know the Planner’s reach was this deep,” Daredevil said. “Just how many cops does he have on his payroll?”

“We don’t have time to worry about that,” Bruce said. “I have to get to my interview in time.”

Daredevil sighed. “We’ll take the truck but first we get rid of the dead weight.”

They started to toss the guards out of the truck.

“You drive,” Bruce said as they stepped into the truck.

Daredevil shook his head. “No, it’s better if I have my hands free. To keep you safe.”

“Fair enough,” Bruce said as he stepped into the driver’s seat. “I hope you have insurance though, my butler is usually the one who drives me around town.”

“What do you mean by…”

Bruce Wayne drove off with the truck, hitting the road at 60 kilometres per hour. Daredevil had to hold onto his seat.

…

Thunder started rumbling and the rain hit the rooftop of the safehouse, washing over it like waves. Most of the team Gordon has assembled were huddled together in the house, carrying out patrols. He didn’t pity the ones out in the rain.

The kid was afraid of the thunder, still wearing Gordon’s coat he huddled up next to him. Gordon tried calming him down but when there was a flash of lightning, he immediately put his fingers in his ears. And when the thunder roared out in anger, he huddled up next to Gordon.

Lightning flashed again. This time, however, the lights went out. There was uneasy murmuring. The boy was almost grabbing Gordon for dear life.

“Relax,” Gordon said. “We have someone by the generators.”

He took out his walkie-talkie. “Ramirez, you there. We need you to get to the generator. There’s been a power cut.”

Static.

“Ramirez,” Gordon called out. “Ramirez?”

The bloodstained walkie-talkie echoed Gordon’s voice. The rainwater was tainted crimson by the blood of the officers in charge of the generator. What was left of them was caked in mud.

The walkie-talkie was crushed underneath a massive foot. The Lizard’s eyes narrowed as he approached the safehouse where his son would be. On his right, an officer tried reaching for his gun, but his tail slammed into his neck with a loud snap. Good.

The Lizard dragged himself to his son, his tail painting the mud red.

…

Heartbeats were a signature.

That was what Stick taught Matt. Barring medical conditions, every heart beat differently when they were happy, sad, angry and even when they lied. That was why Bruce Wayne’s calm, steady heartbeat was so off putting. This rich kid who barely had any threats to his life remained so calm even when police officers threatened to kill him.

Just who was this man?

The downpour was starting to get heavier. The rain was starting to pour down in waves and thunder and lightning rumbled in the distance but even then, Bruce’s heartbeat remained calm.

Matt was starting to worry. The rain made his senses go haywire, if he missed anything that would be the end of both of them.

“You okay, Mr. Wayne?” Daredevil asked.

“As okay as I can be when cops are trying to kill me.”

And even then, not a single bit of panic in his heart. He was a lot like Elektra in that regard. She also had a heartbeat he could barely register. And for a man who had lost a limb just recently according to the news, he didn’t seem as unmeasured as the people he knew who did. He carried himself with a calm that not even Daredevil could achieve.

While focusing on Bruce Wayne’s body language, he almost didn’t register it. Footsteps. Someone or something was running towards them, something big. Something fast. But… dammit… the rain. It made it so hard to judge. The footsteps splashed across the mud, across the puddles and the… the… road until…

“Be careful Mr. Wayne,” Daredevil warned. “There’s something headed straight towards…”

Daredevil didn’t get time to finish his sentence. That thing crashed into them, causing the car to tumble down the road. Their bodies jolted up and down, left and right. Daredevil could barely centre himself, barely sense the world around him. His focus was constantly swirling as if he was caught in the eye of a hurricane.

And then stillness. The world finally had a centre despite the intense pain Daredevil had to fight through to get to it. He heard Bruce groan, crawling out of the way. He could smell blood though he didn’t know if it was his or Bruce’s that he was smelling.

They crawled out of the car, Daredevil limping. He staggered over to Bruce, struggling to get him up. The man had muscles, despite being rich. He supported him on his left as he’d heard that he lost his right leg. The police van had taken a lot of the force but still it was knocked upside down. Whatever they were dealing with, it wasn’t human.

Daredevil tried dragging Bruce up to the road but with all the bruises, all the pain, it was looking like an impossible task. And when things couldn’t get any worse, Daredevil heard the footsteps, like a truck engine rumbling in the night.

His heartbeat was strong. Daredevil pinned him standing at 6 meters tall, the rain bouncing off his body as if it were made of steel plates. They also bounced off something at the top of his head, something like a knife sticking out of his forehead.

“The Master Planner sends his regards,” said the man in a heavy Russian accent.

“And who the hell are you?” Bruce Wayne asked.

The man grinned. “The Rhino. The Master Planner hired me to take you out, Mr. Wayne.”

Even standing face to face with a monster that could total cars, his heartbeat was calm. Daredevil heard something beep on his wrist.

“No rest for the wicked, huh?” Bruce said.

“Just who the hell are you?” Daredevil asked.

Rhino kneeled down, his horn pointed straight at them.

“Oh,” Bruce said with a grin. “You’ll see soon enough.”

In the distance, Daredevil heard the tumble of tires and the roar of an engine. The Rhino charged at them, the sound of his armour shaking the ground below them.

To be continued…