Peter Parker: Son of Batman

-Prologue-

How could God do this? How could I be orphaned twice in a life time?

I have this dream and it's always like I'm watching it happen to somebody else.

The sun was bright and the air was charged with electricity. New York was nice but there was always something about Gotham. He loved it. He got to come once a year and it was always awesome. He wished he could capture this moment and live in it forever.

"Slow down Peter." May called after the exuberant little boy.

"It's alright, May." Ben comforted. "Let him stretch his legs a bit."

Peter ran just ahead of his aunt and uncle in the train station with his Green Lantern action figure zooming in one hand and Iron-Man in the other. In reality the Justice League and Avengers had only teamed up once but Peter didn't care. Every day was a cross over. A janitor was mopping the floor in front of him. Peter imagined the yellow bucket was one of Seinstro's creations.

"Do you see that Lantern?" Peter said in a robotic voice.

"I'm on it Shell-Head." Peter replied in his deepest, heroic voice.

Peter angled his heroes toward the threat. He didn't notice the sounds of approaching sirens.

"You're ring is useless against yellow." Peter said. "I'll handle this with a repulsar blast."

"Pewem, pewem." Peter said and the building was rocked by an explosion.

Peter was thrown to the ground disorientated. He looked at his action figure in disbelief. He heard screaming. Then there was another explosion and the world went black.

The rest is documented history of headlines.

"Joker blows up Gotham Grand Central Station. Twenty dead, one hundred injured."

"It's a Miracle: nine year old boy pulled from rubble after being buried for three days."

"Billionaire Playboy Bruce Wayne adopts Miracle Orphan"

Seven years later…

Chapter One: "All I wanted was a Wally Burger"

The incessant buzz of the alarm pulls me from my sleep, thankfully. I sit on the side of my bed rubbing the sleep from my eyes. After that I reach for my glasses. I don't really have a choice; the world is just a haze of shadows and shapes without them. I run my fingers through my mousy brown hair; I tend to do that when I'm tired or nervous. I hop in the shower hopeful that the hot water will wash away the lingering thoughts of my dream. It does. I throw on the school uniform; brown shoes, khaki pants, white shirt, crimson blazer and tie. I even take the time to dry my hair.

That wasn't always the case. Once upon a time I had to get up earlier, get dressed quicker, and literally run the ten miles to school. But that was before Bruce finally made the decision. Despite the years of training he decided that I just didn't have the physical ability to be Robin; devastating; massive understatement. But what could I do. Bruce is the boss. Intellectually I know that Bruce couldn't readily repeat what he had accomplished with Richard and Barbara. Statistically, everybody did not have the necessary genetics to create a superhero.

Bruce hates the term. I always argue that even though Batman did not have powers as such, he and those he trained did things that set them apart from normal people. Bruce would counter with the "training" argument. Then I would win it by simply pointing to myself.

My stomach starts to grumble; introspection is no substitute for breakfast. So I mosey down the steps to the kitchen. Alfred's there with a stack of blueberry pancakes and syrup on the table with a cold jug of two percent milk. I say my hellos and sit down.

Before I can get the milk poured Alfred is gone. I assume he has more pressing matters like backing Batman up from the Bat-Cave. Bruce was currently on the opposite of the globe so Batman was just now clocking in. It's alright I don't much feel like talking. If I can be honest, I'm still licking my wounds. How could she do that to me? Enough of that; I force my mind away from the subject. I finish breakfast, place my dishes in the sink then grab my backpack off the chair by the back door.

The leaves were beginning to turn; pretty soon Gotham would be bathed in vibrant seas of gold, yellows and reds. Not that I care. I jump into the Porsche 911 convertible and head to school. Yes I'm sixteen years old driving a Porsche. To make it worse this was only one of a hundred cars Bruce owns that I earned the rights to. In fact there's only one car that is off limits, can you guess which one?

Cassie

I floor it, peeling down the drive way; leaving the thought behind. I'm near sixty as I approach the twelve foot high wrought iron gate that separates Stately Wayne Manor from the rest from the world.

"Gate." I bark and the car sends the message to mansion's security computer.

The gate opens on high speed rails. I nearly clip the side view mirrors rushing through. By the time I hit the main street I'm down to a respectable forty. No sense in getting a ticket despite how I'm feeling. Ten minutes later I'm driving past security on to the Gotham Preparatory campus; picture Harvard except as a high school.

A sixteen year old driving a Porsche anywhere else was guaranteed to be big man on campus. At Gotham Prep, Porsches were as common as a ten speeds. I pull into my reserved parking spot between a Murcielago LP640 and a Ferrari Enzo; other Legacies like me. When your parent, grandparent, excreta donates six figures a year they get a Legacy parking spot that you in turn use when coming to school. This is the same spot Bruce used, the same one Richard used and now it's my "hand me down".

The parking lot is always busy in the morning especially Monday morning; everybody talking about the weekend everybody secretly wanting to one-up each other. It was the usual partying and clubbing type of stuff; the exact opposite of my weekend.

I don't pay them any mind as I get out the car and head into the building. Not that I'm being antisocial it's that I'm not that popular. I know, I know billionaire's son and heir to the Wayne fortune I should be right? I mean I just rolled in here in a Porsche for crying out loud. Let me burst your preconceived bubble.

A school for hyper rich abides by the same rules as your school. You got the popular jocks and cheerleaders, student government, the brains, theater, and the undecided. The only difference is that our weekly allowances are more than most people make in a year. Plus I have the added weight of following behind the great Richard Grayson.

Cassie

I put some pep in my step as the thought I left in the drive way catches up with me. I'm a bit distracted this morning so I don't see him until it is too late.

"Watch where you're going, nerd." Flash Thompson warns pushing me down. Yes nerd was ancient but Flash was intent on resurrecting it for my sake. Isn't he thoughtful?

By the time I look up Flash and his crew is down the hall. He didn't hear me mumble how the Gotham Senators would have won this weekend if his superstar dad could have completed a simple thirty yard pass to an open receiver. Its better that he didn't hear me say Flash senior was too scared of being hit to be effective. Because if he did, Flash would try to beat me to a pulp and to a certain extent I would have to let him.

While I don't really have a secret identity to keep…well secret; I do have a responsibility to the family not to draw undue attention; beating the living snot of a senior who outweighs me by nearly a sixty pounds would definitely do that. So I can't deal with alley full of gangbangers but one high school bully; no problem.

My first class is chemistry with Professor Connors. I'm good at chemistry…not bragging but I'm good all sciences. Not that I'm allowed to show my true potential. For me school is pretty much like a thoroughbred racing with a six hundred pound jockey or driving an Indy car with one foot on the break. It's a balancing act I've learned to live with. I take my seat in the front of the class; where else are the brainy kids supposed to sit?

"Good morning class." Professor Connors says. "I trust you had an enjoyable weekend. Let's open our books to Chapter ten and get started.

Connors is cool for a teacher. He genuinely cares. You'd think that was standard issue for a teacher but it isn't. Don't even get me started about my psyche teacher; Professor Crane is going to snap on day, I just know it. But like I was saying Connors is cool. You have to get past the whole "I got my arm bitten off by Killer Croc" thing.

Talk about wrong place wrong time. He was picking up some ice cream for his pregnant wife when Croc robbed the store. Connors tried to stop him and got maimed in the process.

After Chemistry is my favorite class of the day; English. Not that I'm all that excited about the language; I speak eight Earth and two alien dialects. No it's not the class; it's who teaches the class; Professor Bertinelli. You ask any guy who's' the hottest teacher in world and they are going to answer Professor Bertinelli; if they don't it because they haven't met her. Either that or Wonder Woman or Power-Girl suddenly became teachers.

She's always at the door and greets us as we file in. She's always dressed like a librarian right down to the glasses. However there is this air about her; something that hints at another side; like a tiger under restraint. It's a feeling, a look I know all too well. I see it on Bruce's face and Richard's and Barbara's too.

Because Bruce adopted me I've met some of the most powerful beings on the planet. I'm privy to the identities they take to walk among us and if you stare closely they all have the same look. I wonder why they even bother sometimes. Think about all the good that say Superman could do if he was spending time masquerading as a farm boy from Kansas. That's why I admire the Fantastic Four, Alan Scott and the few others who don't even bother about secret identities.

This is the only class where the jocks take the front and I'm forced to sit in the back. But despite her beauty, Professor Bertinelli is an excellent teacher. Once you get past the whole "Smoking hot, adolescent fantasy" thing.

The only other high point left in my day is lunch. I might not be all that popular but I have a crew I hang with. First there's the antithesis of the dumb blonde, Gwen Stacy. She comes from a single parent home, lost her mom to cancer when she was six. Her father's a Detective for GCPD. She's here on the Martha Wayne scholarship. She's a financial pariah: poor kid in a rich kid school. Rounding out my click is Virgil Hawkins. He's the nephew of Lucius Fox, CEO of Wayne Corp. He moved here from Dakota when his parents died in a car wreck during the "Big Bang" incident. They are the closest no-caped friends I have.

"What's up peeps?" I ask joining them at our table.

"You get your economics paper finished?" Virgil asks.

"Yeah." I reply. "What about you, Gwen."

"No, if I can't get it done next period I'm toast." She replied.

"You know this will be your third incomplete this semester, you better get on the ball home girl." Virgil responds.

"I will, I will." She replies. "But you guys won't believe this, look what I found."

She reaches into her book bag and retrieves something wrapped in cloth like a holy relic. She unveils it to us and my eyes almost roll. It's a stupid bat-a-rang. It is beat up and probably a year or two old.

"This is why you didn't finish your paper; you were out hunting again?" I reply as Virgil picks it up. He has the same look of awe plastered on his face she does.

"You know it." she replied. "I checked out this place about a mile from the house last night. I found it an old lumber yard."

"Man, it's lighter than it looks." He says tossing it from hand to hand. "Check it out Pete."

Ok so now it's in my hand and have to pretend that I don't have a thousand of these things in the basement.

"Yeah, how cool is this, huh." I reply. Did my disinterest slip into my voice?

"Give it here, Peter." Gwen says and I can see that it did. "I should have known you wouldn't be interested, it's not a new math problem. This is a real, authentic bat-a-rang."

"You should put it on eBay." Virgil adds. "People love those things."

I bet they wouldn't find it so appealing if they spent hours learning how to catch one. It's not easy. I have the scars on my palms to prove it. When a bat-a-rang is in flight you have to try to catch the pointed side and you end up catching the smooth side. The problem is your mind aims for the smooth side and you end up giving up some of your skin. Eventually, after a few dozen stitches, you'll get it.

"I'll give you fifty bucks for it right now." I joke.

"No way." Gwen says placing it back into her book bag. "This will be the center of my Batman collection."

Ok some people in Gotham have Batman collections; you know bits and pieces left over from battles that they manage to find, news paper articles, stuff like that. It's the same thing in every major city with a superhero. Hey, I even had one but mine was of Ironman, I already have the ultimate Batman collection.

"Are you guys still coming with me to the Dr. Octavius demonstration tonight?" I ask. I've been looking forward to this for months. I hope they don't let me down. Alfred is cool but I would love to hang with somebody my own age.

"I'm in. Fox thinks it will be good for me." Virgil says referring to his uncle. "I get the feeling he has my spot on the Wayne Tech payroll reserved."

"What about you Gwen?"

"I don't know guys." She says. "Some old guy talking genetics all night does not sound like a good time."

"Neither was did going with you to see those Twilight movies but we went." I reply. "And I enjoyed it except for the…the chick flick stuff."

"I'm in love with a vampire and a werewolf?" Virgil adds in falsetto. "Why can't I have both?"

"It was not like that." Gwen replies laughing. "Ok I'm in but we have to stop by Wally Burger on the way home."

"It's a deal."

Alfred wouldn't be pleased with fast food and it didn't come faster or better tasting than Wally Burger. But that was to be expected from a burger chain started by a member of the Justice League, well a member and a member's mother; Martha Kent was behind special blend of herbs and spices they used.

I was beat by the time the dismissal bell rang; wrestling with rejection can do that to you. When I pull up the winding drive I see a black Ducati by the back door. After I return the 911 to its spot in the garage I walk over for a better look. It's black on black and so slick that I get goose bumps standing next to it.

This has Richard written all over it. I have to sit on it; as my hands grip the handle bars I can imagine ripping through traffic…ripping through traffic chasing the Riddler or maybe Two-Face. That's exactly what this bike was designed for. It has a custom automatic suspension with terrain adaptable tires composed of semi-unstable molecules. I haven't heard it start up but I know it has a supercharged, magnetically cooled engine. I'd be willing to bet it has sound canceling technology like the Batmobile. There was a state of the art communications suite on here somewhere; probably holographic and hidden in the gages. This was everything an urban vigilante needs.

"You break it and its coming out of your allowance." Dick says nearly giving me a heart attack. He's always sneaking up on me. He's dressed in black tee shirt, blue jeans and black leather jacket with blue stripes on the sleeves; the colors of his alter ego; Nightwing.

"Nice Bike." I reply. He's not doing the "leave my stuff alone" big brother thing that means…

"I heard." He says simply. We both know what he's talking about. "I stopped by to see how you're doing."

Ok here's the thing when I was adopted I wasn't in the best shape mentally or physically. I didn't want anything to do with adults; they always died. Richard was in his early teens and was the only one who was able to reach me. I have lied to Bruce and got away with it but never to Richard.

"It feels like my heart won't stop hurting." I reply wiping a tear away with the back of my hand. "This sucks."

He flashes his million dollar smile and puts his arm around me.

"My little brother has had his first heart break." He says. "You're growing up so fast."

"What are you talking about?" I ask.

"It's a rite of passage, Pete. All guys have their heart broken at least once."

"Even Bruce." I ask not feeling so alone.

"You never noticed that tug in the corner of his mouth when he talks about Talia?"

"Whoa." I reply the implications hitting me. At least I didn't fall in love with the daughter of my worst enemy.

"You know Cassie didn't mean to hurt you, right?"

"I'm not there yet." I say shrugging off his arm.

"Fair enough." he says as his watch beeps. "I got ta go. If you need anything, you'll call?"

"Yes." I reply as I get off the bike and he gets on. He flashes me the "peace" sign over his shoulder as he speeds down the drive, he even pops a wheelie. That's my big brother; the epitome of cool.

His visit works, I feel better. I grab some grapes and an apple juice from the fridge and head down to the cave. I got home work to do. I take the stairs behind the Grandfather clock in the study; I feel like the walk. There is an elevator in pantry and a pneumonic tube in Bruce's bedroom.

I see Alfred at the main computer with the headset on looking over a satellite photo on screen. I nod a hello and head to my work station. Barbara helped me set it up. It's not as powerful as the main computer but it's no slouch either.

I breeze through my home work, all of it, in about ten minutes. Then I move on to the cool stuff. I've got several emails from the Community. Batman is known as the world's greatest detective. So other heroes send inquiries when they got stumped on something. What they don't know is that I handle close to eighty five percent of those now. In fact I'm an honorary member "Young Justice" Mysterio is my code name. You know because I'm good at solving mysteries…it sounded cool when I was thirteen but now not so much. That's how I met Cassie. She could be Wonder-girl even without the super powers.

It was love at first sight. I'll admit dating a girl who could crush you if she wasn't careful held its own set of problems; but what a way to go, right. Everything was cool until he came along; Conner Kent, Superman's kid brother.

I mean what? Wasn't Clark alone in the ship that brought him to earth? It's possible that Conner arrived later like Super girl but I digress. Super boy, heavy on the boy light on the super, comes on the scene and its all eyes on him. You didn't need to be a detective to see how this was going to end. He joins the team and next thing I know they start taking missions together. Then it's "flying lessons". Less time for yours truly more time for the frat-boy Superman.

Last night I get the "call". The one about how we're too young to be so serious and that maybe we should see other people. It has nothing to do with me being…well you know… normal. It has everything to do with me being normal. If I had powers this would never have happened. It wouldn't have happened if I was Robin. She wants to be friends. How is that supposed to work exactly? I just forget that he waltzed in and stole my girlfriend?

Whatever, I have better things to do. I just figured out a case for Hawkeye. The killer has the ability to shrink. I send the answer as well as a request that Atom give him an assist. As I'm typing I have a few more epiphanies about a couple other cases. By the time I'm finished replying it's time for me to get ready.

One of the cool things about being rich is the limos. I think they're cool. Virgil thinks they're cool; Gwen not so much.

"Hey baby." Virgil calls standing in the sunroof to the cute girls on the street. "You want to go see Dr. Octavius Inter-species and genetic mutation lecture?"

"What's up Gwen?" I ask taking a sip of 7up from my can.

"Isn't this a bit much for trip to a science fair?" she replies.

"Not really." I say. "I know what it is; you would rather be riding in the Bat-mobile."

Her eyes light up at the thought.

"Maybe." She says with a laugh.

"Virgil will get back in here or Alfred won't take us by Wally Burger on the way home." I say.

"Get in here Virg." Gwen adds practically pulling him back in; the girl loves her Wally Burger.

"You know even with the limo, they honeys weren't feeling the lecture." Virgil says plopping down in his seat facing Gwen and me. "At this rate I'm not going to have a date to the Spring Formal. Pete, you think that your girl Cassie can hook a brotha up with one of her friends?"

"Me and Cassie kinda of broke up." I announce.

"What did you say, Pete?" Gwen says

"Speak up Homie." Virgil replies. "It sounded like you said you guys broke up."

"We broke up." I finally spit out. "She started seeing somebody else?"

"Who?" Gwen asks with sympathy.

"Frat boy-Superman" Is what I think. "Some dumb jock at her school." Is what I say

"She dumped you for a meat-head like Flash Thompson?" Virgil says. "It's her loss Pete."

"Virgil's right." Gwen says. "You're a great guy. Not my type but a great guy."

"Yeah, you don't run around at night in a cape beating the living crap out of criminals." Virgil adds.

"It's not like that." Gwen explains. "Batman is probably the same age as my dad. That would be creepy. Now Nightwing, he could sneak in my window any night."

I can't help but laugh. Richard Grayson, my brother, epitome of cool, high school girl fantasy.

We continue with our banter until we reach the science building on GothamUniversity campus. There's not a lot of fanfare. We are the only ones getting dropped off in a limo; maybe it was a bit much. On the inside however, security is pretty tight. They check our invitations as well as our IDs. We give each other a "this is going to be cool" glance.

After we are cleared by the suits we are escorted into an intimate lecture hall. There are about ten other people there. Most of them are unassuming but then they are out of costume. Ted Cord is there along Dr. Ray Palmer; I guess he didn't get my email. I also spot Dr. Hank Pym accompanied by his smoking hot wife Janet Van Dyne. I'm most surprised to see Dr. Henry McCoy and Scott Summers. The others I don't recognize with exception of my professor Dr. Connors. We all take our seats as the lights dim. A man of medium height and pudgy build, dressed in a green suit with a white lab coat takes the podium.

"My name is Dr. Otto Octavius. Thank you for coming out this evening." He says adjusting his glasses. "I'm sure you will find what I have to show you to be extraordinary. The advances we have made here will change how we conceive the terms animal, human, mutant."

Virgil and I give each other "knucks" and nod. Gwen rolls her eyes. After a forty minute lecture, which was phenomenal, we follow him to a laboratory in the basement of the building. The places is modest considering that, if what the good doctor says is true, will profoundly shape the future of mankind. There are metal tables with terrariums and brief notes about what they contain. We're allowed to browse for a few minutes. But all of us are wondering what is behind the black curtain in the back of the room.

Virgil checks out some real Lightning Bugs; when they fly little arcs of electricity flash from their abdomens. When he puts his hand to the glass they all fly over to him. He looks at me like I just caught his hand in the cookie jar.

"I guess they like you." I say as I shrug my shoulders.

I put my hand to the one that has some kind of "super spider" in it. Nothing happens. I don't even see the thing. All I see are six crickets jumping around some sand and a big rock. Wait make that five, no four, now three. Something is definitely in there but all I catch are blurs. Then I use a meditation technique Bruce taught me. I never mastered it but the gist is the eye sees at the speed of light but the brain takes time to process. With proper breathing and focus you can speed up the brains processing for short periods. I get one freeze-frame snap shot of it before it darts back under the rock. The spider is black with a red and blue striped abdomen; one word; sweet.

Gwen isn't looking at anything. She's still standing by the elevator. I walk over to her.

"What's up Gwen?" I ask seeing her discomfort.

"This place gives me the creeps." She said.

"Come on." I reply. "I know that you're a scientist at heart. Genetics may not be your thing but you have to admit that this is cool."

Her protest is cut short as Dr. Octavius calls us all to the back of the room. Gwen elects to stay by the elevator. The rest of us gather around the black curtain. The Doc pulls it back to reveal a column of light with a black sphere suspended inside it. The sphere is smooth; there are no seams anywhere on the thing. It looks like it was grown rather than constructed.

"This is my greatest creation." Dr Octavius says. "This is the Enigma Engine the world's first genetic computer."

There was a collective gasp in the room. There should be. A genetic computer isn't a flesh and blood computer or artificial intelligence. It's more like a device made for intricate study, modification and manipulation of life itself; think Windows 7 for the universe. Only two other civilizations have ever succeeding in creating a Gen-Com, one was destroyed by the Celestials and the other …well they're responsible for the space police we call Green Lanterns. If he has succeeded we could be in for a visit from a two thousand foot tall guy in red armor or all about to become little blue guys devoid of emotion. Neither are great choices in my opinion.

"I developed these genetically linked armatures to interface with the Enigma Engine." He explains as he removes his lab coat. An assistant appears with a black harness that kind of resembles a life jacket and helps the doctor put it on. Then these four points sprout from his back then extend into black metallic arms with three fingers at the end.

"Doctor." Dr McCoy interrupts. "I have a few questions."

"I will take questions, Dr. McCoy, after the demonstration." Dr Octavius replies.

"Dr. Octavius, the work we've seen on display in nothing short of incredible." Dr. Palmer chimes in. "If you have indeed created a Genetic Computer then every time activate it the results could be catastrophic."

"Nonsense, Doctor Palmer, I have preformed this process dozens of time without incident." Dr. Octavius replies moving toward the black sphere. "Now please no more comments until after the demonstration."

"I'm afraid as fellow men of science." Dr Pym retorts. "We can't in good conscience let you continue."

I wasn't there when Jack Napier fell into that vat of chemicals that made him into the Joker. I wasn't there when Harvey Dent was hit with the acid that brought out Two-Face. I wasn't even there when Frat-Boy Superman introduced himself to Cassie. But I'm sure this is what it felt like. There was a feeling forming in the pit of my stomach that something really bad was about to happen: like the birth of a super villain.

It all plays out in slow motion. Dr. Pym steps in front of Doctor Octavius and gets batted out the way by one of those black arms on the Dr. Octavius's back. He flies and hit the wall as his wife shrinks from view and Dr. McCoy gains extra muscle mass and a covering of blue fur; becoming the Beast.

Ted starts ushering the civilians, myself included, to the stairs. There are the sounds of battle. The room flashes crimson and I know that Scott Summers aka Cyclops has entered the fight. Gwen is in front of me and Virgil as at my left as we enter the stairs. I feel a stinging on my right hand I assume it's a piece of shrapnel. We're two flights from the exit when the building rocks from an explosion downstairs. The stairwell goes pitch black and I feel like I'm falling into darkness…man this sucks…I really wanted a Wally Burger.

Chapter Two: "Can You Keep a Secret"

People debate about what a person is actually aware of when they are in a comma. I been in two commas in my life and I'm still not sure. I'm aware of Bruce's voice. I feel Barbara's warm hand on my face. I feel Richard standing next to my bed too distraught for words I guess. If I ever wake up I'm going to kid him about it. That stuff I'm pretty sure is real. It's the spider I keep seeing that I'm not so sure about. See here he comes now.

He's about the size of a person or at least I think he is; I have no point of reference in all this blackness. I'm not afraid though. The spider is friendly enough and the darkness… well you can't be raised by Batman and be afraid of the dark.

He, the spider that is, says that he sensed my desire to help people. He says that he gave me the power and now I can help all the people I want to. He says all I have to do is wake up. Now we get to the hard part. No matter how hard I try I can't wake up. Every time I try I fall deeper into the hole. Uh-oh here comes the bat. I'm reasonably sure that bat isn't real because bats don't talk, they use sonar; only somebody like Clark can hear sonar.

The bat tells me that I have the power to get up. I only have to try harder. The bat can be pretty pushy. As I'm telling the bat about how hard it is the bird flies in. The bird is cool but has a bit of a smart mouth. The bird can be very insulting sometimes. All four of us argue for a while. Then I get tired and announce that we'll try this again tomorrow.

They all leave then I smell her perfume: jasmine with a hint of Wally Burger. This is new. Cassie. I hear her voice but I can't understand what she's saying. She's holding my hand; sweet Cassie.

"Let's go babe." The voice cuts through the darkness like a hot knife through butter. It's Frat-boy Superman. What the Hell is he doing here? He's trying to take Cassie away all over again. Not this time. Not this time. Not this time.

My eyes pop open. I'm in the room alone. There's only me and the machines I'm hooked up to. I'm not at the hospital. I'm in my bedroom at the manor. As I'm taking it all in the door opens. Alfred holds his post at the door Richard rushes to my side. I try to say something but my voice is a raspy whisper.

"Take it easy Pete." Richard says putting a cup of ice chips to my mouth. I love ice chips.

They melt in my mouth coating my dry throat. I have a million questions.

"Gwen and Virgil are fine." Richard informs; seeing my expression. "Dr. Octavius went on a three day rampage before the members of the Justice League and the X-Men stopped him. The papers started calling him Dr. Octopus. Apparently those arms are fused to his body as a result of the explosion. Ted and Dr. McCoy were hurt pretty bad but are expected to make a full recovery. You were the only one we had doubts about."

"What about the Genetic Computer?" I whisper.

"The Green Lantern Corps confiscated it." He says with a smile. "Kyle says the Guardians dismantled it."

"Did Cassie come to see me?" I ask. His expression answers for him. I guess that wasn't real after all. Maybe none of it was.

"Virgil and Gwen stopped by earlier." He says subtly changing subject. "They brought this."

Here reaches over to the nightstand for a brown paper bag with grease stains on it that can contain only one thing: a Wally Burger. "Alfred wanted to throw it out but Bruce thought it could coax you into waking up."

"How long?" I ask. My voice is getting stronger.

"Close to two weeks." Richard answers. That's not so bad. It was over a month the last time; of course that time it was a medically induced comma but still.

I look at the clock and I see that its one o'clock at night. Bruce must be out. I try to sit up and my side catches fire and my head spins.

"Easy." Richard instructs. "You were hurt pretty bad. The stairs you were on gave way. You fell fifteen feet. We thought we lost you."

"How bad?"

"You broke every rib on your left side. You punctured your left lung and had massive concussion with bleeding on the brain." He says and I'm glad I don't remember; it sounds painful. "Dr. Cross came in and fixed you up."

"Doctor Mid-Nite." I reply as he puts some pillows behind my back. "Did he bring the owl?"

"Yeah." He replies with a smile. "He brought the owl."

"Cool." I respond as my stomach starts to grumble. Yours would too if all you had in two weeks was IV fluids.

As good as the burger smells, I know I'm not in any shape to eat it. Alfred walks in right on time with some his famous chicken noodle soup. For me it's only the broth and a piece of toast but it tastes awesome.

Richard and I spend some time talking about everything. It reminds me of how it was when I got to the manor. Once I was in on the secret we talked about his adventures as Robin boy wonder and how someday it could be me if Bruce said the same. Even back then he seemed to know that he wouldn't be Robin forever. Now we talked about his adventures as Nightwing. We talk about girls. I ask him about Kori and he tells me that there are still something's I'm not old enough to hear. Man I can't wait to get twenty one.

"Some things never change." Batman says from the doorway. We both look up with surprise. It's nice to know that I'm not the only that can be snuck up on.

Batman walks over to us and even though I see him move I don't hear him; no shuffle on the carpet, nothing.

"You really had us worried, Chum." Batman says. It's funny the same voice that strikes fear in the hearts of criminals I find comforting.

"I'm tougher than I look." I reply with a smile.

He nods in approval. He's about to speak when an alarm beeps on his belt. One goes off on Richards watch at the same time.

"I'll go." Batman announces. "You stay with Peter."

"Who is it?" I ask.

"Ivy and Hydro-man have teamed up again." Batman answers.

"You both better go." I reply. Richard gives me a look of protest. "I'm fine. Go."

"Are you sure?" Richard asks from the doorway. Batman is already gone.

"I'll be here when you get back." I say. "You better hurry you know how he gets."

"See you when we get back Pete." Richard says then he's gone.

"If you need anything I'm right down the hall." Alfred reminds then I'm alone.

I slurp the last of the broth from the bowl; I can do that because Alfred's not around to reprimand me. I notice that I don't have an injury to my right hand. I could have sworn that I cut it on the way out of the lab. I give it farther inspection; nope, nothing, not a scratch. Oh well there was a lot going on. I can't be sure. Then a strange thing happens. A spider descends from the ceiling and stops right in front of my face. It's about the size of a dime. I'm not grossed out. I think spiders are cool.

I can see it in intricate detail right down to the hairs on its abdomen and the eight beady eyes. Then it hits me. I don't have my glasses on. I haven't had them on the entire time. I reach over to the nightstand and get them. When I put them on the world gets blurry. I put them back on the nightstand.

"Interesting." I think out loud. I notice the spider is still there. "You can go now."

Then it climbs back up its web like it understood me. Whatever, that had to be coincidence. Being a scientist at heart I decide to test it.

"Come here." I say out loud. I wait a few seconds. Nothing happens. I laugh at myself for being so silly. It must be the lingering effect of the concussion. I lay back. Despite just waking up I'm still tired. That's when I see them; spiders of all sizes climbing outside the window; dozens then hundreds, blotting out the moonlight. Then more start climbing up the walls inside my room. Then they start descending from the ceiling. One spider: cool; thousands: horror movie.

"Um…I was kidding." I say with my eyes closed; so hoping that this is a bad dream. "You can go now."

When I finally open my eyes, they're all gone; no trace of them. It's hard to even say if it was real. I'm too tired to debate and go back to sleep. When I wake up in the morning it seems like a vivid dream.

Alfred brings me breakfast in bed. Bruce and Richard stop by to check up on me before heading off to bed. By noon I'm feeling pretty good. Good enough to try to walk to the bathroom. I manage to sit on the side of the bed with only minimal pain in my side. I use the post by the head of my bed to brace myself as I stand.

I'm on my feet and I feel decent. I take a couple of steps and it feels like I turned the key in the ignition of the Porsche. I feel like I could run a four minute mile. I walk to the bathroom without incident. I'm on my way back when I sense Richard behind me.

"I'm fine." I call over my shoulder. "You can go back to bed."

I'm back in bed before it hits me: I "sensed" him. Since when can I sense anything? That was one of the reasons I washed out as Robin. I didn't have what Bruce called "Battlefield Awareness"; the ability to feel where your opponents are in reference to your position. So now all of a sudden I have it. Also by the way I don't need glasses anymore. And oh yeah I can talk to spiders; if last night was real at least. Something is going on. I should tell Bruce. That's what I should do but I don't. If I tell him now he'll take me to STAR Labs or FreedomFourPlaza and try to reverse it. This could be my chance to become a real hero.

After everybody is out on patrol I go to work down in the cave. Ok let's assume that I was affected by something in Doc Ock's menagerie of genetically altered creatures. It's not that much of a leap to suppose that it was the spider I was looking at. Alright then taking that as the basis then what kinds of powers would a man sized spider have? I don't have any outward mutations; any extra arms, any extra eyes or fangs; nor do I have any web shooters growing out of my wrist. So the mutation is not Macro-formative like say the Thing or Killer Croc. Then it must be Micro-formative like the Human Torch or Flash; that is I have the mutation but I look normal for the most part any way.

"So let's get started." I think as I walk over to the rock wall in the practice area of the Bat-cave. Rock wall is really too generous. It is more like six story tall structure pulled from a climber's nightmare. Supposedly it modeled after the most treacherous part of the DemonsMountain climb, but who knows.

I start the climb freehand without a safety harness. I shouldn't need one if I really am Spiderman. I'm about a third of the way up and I'm feeling good. It's easier than the last time I tried it but nothing spectacular. I'm at the worst part; a ninety degree overhang with little to no crevasses to grip. This is the part where the real DemonsMountain climb killed twenty free climbers a year before the Parks Department banned climbing on it.

I shouldn't even attempt this. I'm foolish for coming this far without a safety harness. But I get the feeling like my body is in on a secret that my mind hasn't caught on to yet. So I manage to get three fingers in to this split in the rock over my head. That ought to be enough. I'm half way out when I realize I'm not going to make it. The next move is too far out and I can't swing back to where I left. I'm hanging out over the cave floor by the tips of the fingers on my left hand. The stress is aggravating my ribs; the fire is reasserting itself.

"Stupid, Stupid." I say out loud. This is by far the dumbest thing I've ever attempted. It could be the last.

I say could be because I've been taught how to land from heights and walk away but this is so past my training; no way am I walking away from this. I'll be lucky to survive. If I do this "right" my legs will take the brunt of the impact. The bones will shatter but that will keep some of the force from slamming into my spine; the roll should dissipate the rest; at the sacrifice of broken arms and shoulders of course. Then assuming that I don't smash my head onto the anything I should be fine, relatively speaking. I'll tell you what if I end up in another coma and I see that stupid spider, I'm punching him in the face.

My hand is trembling. The muscles are getting tired. I tighten my grip. I know I'm only delaying the inevitable. My hand slips. This is it. I pick a spot on the floor and try to remember everything Bruce taught me. This is going to hurt. In desperation I reach up with my right hand; scrambling for anything. I catch something.

I look up to see my fingertips stuck to bare rock. There's a warm giddiness as my left hand joins my right. I lift the rest of my body up to hug the rock. Hanging…no adhering to the rock upside down I feel like my body is saying "I told you so." This is amazing. I crawl to the top. Then crawl back down. Then back up; taking a different route each time; any route I want.

So I can add wall crawling to my list. That makes since for Spiderman. I should have the proportional strength of a man sized spider. I walk over to the workout room. Bruce has the bench press machine set at six-hundred pounds. I slide under the bar. Yes I know this is crazy. But realistically I shouldn't even be able to budge it; so I'm not worried about it falling and smashing me. Imagine my surprise when it moves.

"Sweet." Is all I can say as I finish a couple of reps. My arms aren't even tired and the burning from my ribs is gone. I guess now that I've accepted my powers, they've accepted me. I mark off a few more abilities to go along with my wall crawling and strength. My speed is faster than normal. My agility has increased. I'm everything Bruce trained me to be and more. Soon I'll be able to take my place beside Batman along with Nightwing and Batgirl. There's only one thing missing. I can't be Spiderman without webs.

I'm still thinking about the "web" problem even after I'm cleared to go back to school.

"Hello, Earth to Peter Parker-Wayne." Gwen says.

Uh-oh she used my full name; I must be in trouble.

"I'm sorry, Gwen." I reply taking a bite of my sandwich. "What were you saying?"

"I was asking what you thought about this Static guy." She says.

"I'm sorry, who?" I ask.

"You really were a million miles away." She says with exasperation. "Apparently there's a new hero here in Gotham. He calls himself Static."

"I wouldn't get too attached to him if I were you." I reply. I know how Bruce feels about outsiders. "Have you seen Virgil today? I missed him first period."

"He's been kind of flakey Pete." She says. "He started acting strange after the…well you know. He's been coming to school late, sleeping in class; he's even missed a few assignments."

"That doesn't sound like the Virgil I know." I reply. "I wonder what's up."

"Why don't you ask him?" She suggests. "He he comes now."

"What's the word gang?" He asks dropping his book bag on the floor. He lets out a deep yawn as he sets his lunch tray down.

"You look beat." I state. "What going on with you? You take up Gwen's treasure hunting hobby."

He laughs weakly.

"Nope." He says. "Cramming for Professor Crane's Psyche exam."

"That's next week." Gwen points out.

"Really?" he says. "You mean I missed a night of Modern Warfare 6 for nothing."

"Looks like it." Gwen says.

"That's not like you, Virg." I say. "I'm gone for a few weeks and you lose focus on school?"

"Pete after the incident…man…let's just say that I realized that there are more important things in life than Gotham Prep." He explains. "That's all I have to say about it."

"Fair enough." I say and we retreat into our own little worlds. Poor Gwen might as well be eating alone.

I make it home with the "web" problem still turning in my head. I do my usual, grab some fruit, go down to the cave. Homework is a breeze. I'm working on something for Adam Strange when alert window pops up on my screen. I had my computer searching Wayne-Tech, Cord Co, Stark Solutions and Oscorp for a substance that met the parameters of my theoretical web fluid.

It turns out the answer was right under my nose. Wayne Tech has a chemical but it never got passed the initial testing stages. I pull up the info. It was supposed to be a non lethal crowd control device. It was a type of glue that would immobilize a person without harming them. It was supposed to dissipate in ninety minutes leaving the person no worse for wear.

I put the formula on screen; not that I expect that I'm going to see anything that a staff of fifty of the best paid brains at Bruce's company missed. I turn the formula over in my head a few times. Then it jumps right out at me. They loosely based the formula on enzymes of spider's silk then built upon it. What they needed to do was trim away the fat. That's easier said than done considering the "fat" was interlaced throughout.

It takes me the better part of three hours but I create a new formula from scratch. I even incorporate a few tricks I learned from Curtis Carr aka Chemistro; the good guy not his brother Calvin Carr the evil Chemistro. This should work. The best part is according to the resources log on the main computer, I should have the components necessary to create it here in the lab of the Bat cave. I'm still working when Bruce comes down to get ready for work.

"I trust you won't blow the place up." He says walking in dressed in a black business suit with his tie undone.

"I'm trying not to." I reply.

He scans the table I'm mixing the chemicals on. If he knows what I'm up to he doesn't say anything. I bet he was only scanning for anything that could actually explode when mixed. You blow up one lab on your eleventh birthday and they never let you forget about it.

"Don't work too hard Peter." He says as he leaves. A few minutes later I hear the roar of the Batmobile as it speeds up the tunnel. While Batman heads out into the night. Spiderman has finally got his webs; hopefully. I swirl the milky white fluid around in the beaker. I pour the mixture into a machine that will pressure seal it into a modified CO2 cartage, like the ones that power the grapples that Batman uses. The six hundred psi pressure should initiate the final chemical reaction that will make it into web fluid. While that's working I retrieve my web shooters from up in my room.

I had them fabricated a couple of weeks ago. They are two bracelets that will hold seven cartages each. The design is pretty simple; a nipple breaks the seal on the cartage. That releases the fluid into an airtight chamber where the nozzle is. The triggering mechanism is a lever placed high up on my palm that when pressed sends the fluid through the spinnerets in the nozzle. The fluid should begin to harden as it hits the air, making a web line. When I release the lever the flow of fluid ends. That's if I'm as smart as I think I am.

When I return to the lab the process is finished. I put the web shooter on my right wrist and extend the lever into place. Then I snap the cartage into place. I'm giddy as I walk to the target range in training area. I extend my arm palm up. My hands are shaking. I pick my target. With my two middle fingers I push the lever. Nothing happens. My world comes crashing down. Then I remember that I put a safety feature on it to keep from accidently discharging whenever I made a fist.

"Tap then press and hold." I instruct myself aiming for the target.

Thwip

"Sweet." I whisper looking down at the web line in my hand. The other end is stuck to the outer ring of the target; it's not a bull's-eye, but then it is my first time. I turn my attention to something a little more real world. I walk over to one of the outer edges of the converted areas of the cave. There's only a metal rail separating me from a two hundred drop in to the river that runs under Wayne Manor.

I focus on one of the stalactites above me. I aim for it. Thwip I hit it. Without thinking I swing out on the line. It takes my weight easily. Then grabbing the line with my left hand I fire off another. I'm swinging through the Bat cave; it's a sort of awkward with only one web shooter; I feel pretty low budget without the other one.

I have a huge sense of satisfaction as I land back on the safe side of the rail. I really want to tell Bruce. Not yet though. I still need a uniform after all. I walk over to my computer and dial up Stark Solutions using Bruce's code.

The translucent hologram of a man's head appears on my screen; its HOMER Tony Starks AI program.

"Hello, Batman." HOMER greets.

"I'm sending you specs for a new suit, upload them into armory profiles." I type my reply.

"Is there a reason you have visual disengaged?" HOMER asks.

"Working a case, linking to main computer via remote." I type.

"Understood."

"How long to completion?"

"One hour." HOMER. "Are you taking on another partner?"

"Something like that, Batman out." I type then abruptly disconnect; rude and vague, just like Batman.

I put my computer into standby and walk over to the main terminal. I pull up the read outs for the armory and sure enough I see that the fabricator built under the armory is hard at work. To the average person Batman's suit looks like fabric; nothing could be farther away from the truth.

Bruce's, Richard's and Barbara's costumes are pretty much flexible body armor with sophisticated communications and sensory gear built in. That's why Bruce bought a fabricator from none other than Anthony Stark. It's similar to one the head of Stark Solutions uses to create armor for his famous bodyguard, Iron Man. Bruce always goes for the best and nobody is better at armor than Mr. Stark. For proprietary reasons Mr. Starks AI is the only one that can make modifications to the system. I was surprised that Bruce would agree to something like that but Tony and he are pretty close. I'm not sure if even Bruce and Clark are closer.

Now that my Spider-suit is in production I return to the lab and finish filling up my web cartridges. I'll admit this is probably the coolest day of my life. As I'm sliding the last cartridge into my shooters I hear the hum of the pantry elevator. Crap. Without thinking I fire off a web line to the cave roof and scurry up; imitating the spider in my bedroom a few weeks ago.

"Hey Pete." Richard calls out."Peter you down here."

I smirk watching him look for me. He'd never think to look up; not that he could see me in the shadows.

"Hey Peter stop screwing around I want to talk to you." He says looking in the storage cabinet in the exercise room; my favorite hiding spot when we were growing up.

"Fine you want to do this the hard way." Richard says walking into the armory. Two minutes later Nightwing walks out. "Let's play."

This wouldn't be the first time we've done this. This was the preliminary test to me becoming Robin. If I could elude Nightwing in the cave for one hour then I moved on to the final challenge; elude Batman in Gotham for the entire night. Needless to say that I never made it past the first one; the most I ever made was twenty seven minutes. This time he's not facing a Robin want to be, he's dealing with Spider-Man. So it's Spider-Man without his costume but still it's Spider-Man.

It is a game of cat and mouse as we stalk each other through the shadows. It's easier for me; no place is off limits when you can cling to any surface. Right around forty minutes he starts to get nervous.

"Alright Pete, you got me." Nightwing says. "You can come on out now."

I don't know why but I don't.

"Protocol Alpha Six Sigma." Nightwing says frantic. "Initiate cave lock down."

Crap. I'm such an idiot. He thinks I've been kidnapped by Ra's Al Ghul again. It happened six years ago. Talia brought me home the next day. Ra's Al Ghul was trying to teach Bruce some kind of lesson; I barely remember any of it.

I drop down behind Nightwing to show him I'm alright; big mistake. There is a buzzing in my head and I duck a kick that I'm sure would have taken my head off. Before I can say anything I have to dodge another kick then a punch followed by another kick. This isn't going to get me anywhere. I leap away from him doing a somersault landing on the wall behind him. I swear no sooner than my feet and hands hit the wall, I'm scurrying out of the way of two well placed bat-a-rangs. I knock two more out the air with web shots from my shooters. Before I can congratulate myself the buzzing in my head intensifies; this time I'm too slow and my leg gets caught in his grapple line. Nightwing tries to yank me from my perch but I'm stuck too well. But before I can get free, he clamps a black box from utility belt to his end of the line. Crap.

I leap from the wall and come crashing down as a few thousand volts wash over me. He's on me in a flash escrima sticks at my throat.

"What have you done with the boy?" Nightwing questions me. I try to answer but the funny thing is I need air to do that.

"Richard." I whisper. He really sees me for the first time and just like that the rage leaves his body.

"Peter." He asks with a hint of disbelief. "What the hell?"

"What's the status?" Batman's voice booms over the cave speakers. "Are Alfred and Peter alright?"

I wave for Richard not to tell him what happened. He looks down at me and shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

"False alarm." He says. "Peter and I were running drills. I thought I put the computer on test mode, my bad."

"We'll talk about protocol when I get back, Batman out."

"You." Nightwing says helping me up. "Everything. Now."

I look up into the stern face of Richards's alter ego and grin sheepishly.

"Can you keep a secret?"

Chapter Three: "I'll be better next time."

"What do you think?" I ask as I model in front of the mirror in the armory. The mirror isn't for vanity; if your gear is out of place you could die.

"It needs more color." Nightwing responds. I guess he could be right. It is basically a black with a chest sized white spider on the front with its legs spread around my sides linking it to a matching one on the back. It also has big oval shaped white eyes.

"You think so?" I ask as I walk outside to check the suits flexibility.

"How did you come up with this color scheme anyway?" He asks with a hint of sarcasm.

"I based it off some stuff in studied in Professor Crane's class." I reply as I fire a web line to a stalactite and start to climb. "You know unsettling contrast; eyes in the dark, subtle fear."

"Peter, just because fear is Bruce's thing." He says speaking up so that I can hear him. "It doesn't have to be yours."

"I guess you're right." I say dropping fifteen feet landing in a crouch. "So when do you think I should tell him?"

"You're making the assumption that he doesn't already know?" He says with a smirk. "Barring that, the sooner you say something the better."

"I was hoping that somebody would take me out on a patrol so I could have proof that I'm ready."

"Two words for you Peter…"

"Spider-Man." I say interrupting him.

"Alright." He says with a sigh. "Two words for you Spider-Man, No Way."

"C'mon Nightwing." I plead. "You know I'm ready."

He gives me the "look".

"Ok so maybe I'm not ready for any of the big boys." I say backpedaling. "But you know I can handle a few car thieves and muggers."

"This is between you and Batman, Spidey." Nightwing replies. "If he clears you, I'll take you on patrol with me in Bludhaven; Gotham's way to dangerous right now."

"Why?" I ask. "What's going on?"

Nightwing doesn't reply. He turns his head a puts up the "hold on a second" finger. I can tell he's listening to his ear piece.

"That was the boss." He says turning back to me. "I've got to meet him at the GothamRitzPlaza."

"If things are as so bad I should back you up." I reply.

He turns on me like a rattle snake strike.

"Let me make this clear Peter." Nightwing says in his version Batman's "voice". I used to snicker at it but not now. "I know you think you're ready but you're not. Right now you'd only get in the way. Do you understand?"

"Yes." I reply with my head bowed.

"Speak up, Spidey." Nightwing says. "I didn't hear you."

"Yes I heard you." I snap back. "I won't get in the way."

"Good." He says walking to the elevator that will take him up to the hangar. "I'll see you when I we get back."

There is a slight rumble as the Batwing takes off. Stupid Nightwing; part of me knows he means well and that he's looking out for me but I also know he doesn't get it. I'm not a kid anymore. I'm ready to take my place in the family.

I walk over to the main computer to see what's going on. Whoa. There was a break out at Arkham Asylum. Apparently the Joker managed to turn his psychiatrist, Dr. Harleen Quenzel, and she compromised security for the entire complex. Almost Batman's entire rogue's gallery was out on the streets of Gotham. Batman and Nightwing were going to have their hands full. It was times like this when the non-costumed criminals have a field day. Not tonight though; tonight there will be a Spider lurking in the shadows.

I run over to the armory and get some supplies then I'm off to the garage. I get the old Robin-cycle and head into the city. I take the tunnel that connects to subway system. I could have taken the railcar but I'm pretty sure the activation would have alerted Batman. The tunnels get me downtown in twenty minutes. I secure the bike in one of Batman's armored false dumpsters that he has stashed strategically all over the city. My heart is racing as I take the secret ladder to ground level.

I step out into the alley. The smell of urine and filth hit me like a punch to the gut. Nobody in their right mind would ever come down here; but that the point isn't it. I don't waste any time. I skitter up the wall to the roof. For the most part it looks like a normal Gotham night. I half expected there to be total mayhem; people running and screaming, cars overturned on fire, all that.

I check the police band in headset built into my mask. There is a disturbance on Madison and Third. That's only three blocks away. I decide to check it out. Without a second thought I leap from my ten story perch out over the street. I snag the corner of the building next door and swing. At the end of my arc I let that line go and shoot another. It's like the cave only easier; because now I have both web-shooters. I can't help but giggle as I swing off into the night.

I see the red and white flash of police lights as I approach. There were supposedly shots fired in the apartment building across the street. As I try to get further details from the police band there is a commotion on the roof.

A Hispanic male, twenty five to thirty years of age, five-five about two hundred pounds steps to the ledge holding a nine millimeter in one hand and clutching a naked two year old in the other.

"I will kill us both" he says. I translate the Spanish in head. "You stupid police need to stay back."

"It doesn't have to be like this." A female voice replies in Spanish over the mega-phone. It sounds like Officer Renee Montoya. I could glance down to make sure but I don't want to take my eyes of this maniac.

I need to get into position to do something. Right now he's across the street and two stories up. My angle is totally useless. Before I can move the situation falls apart. He shoots himself in the head. I know he's going to topple off the building. I need to do something…now!

The rest of the world moves in slow motion as my body dumps a ton of adrenaline to supercharge my system. Both web-shooters are going as jump across the street. I anchor two lines the top of the street light extending them in an acute angle to the wall of the apartment building then web between them making a triangle shaped safety net. I have just enough momentum to carry me to the top of the street light. I land and spring off a second before the man's body hits the net. My focus is on the child.

The little boy is splattered with blood and gray matter. He's crying as I catch him. He takes one look at me screams all the harder. I can only imagine what he thinks I am. In a few more seconds it's all over I fire a line to the roof and swing down to the street.

"Here you go." I say to the police officer approaching me; just like I thought it is Montoya.

"And you are?" She asks taking the baby from me.

"Spider-Man." I reply. Thank goodness my voice didn't crack.

"Well Spider-Man." She said. "We're all glad you came along."

"Looks like I didn't get here soon enough." I reply turning to watch the paramedics and firemen climb up ladders to check on the man in the net.

"It could have been worse." She replied.

"Do you know what happened?"

"As far as we can tell Manny Sanchez came home fatally assaulted his girlfriend then tried to kill himself and the child." She says as paramedics get the child from her. "It a shame is what it is."

I watch the boy stare at me over the woman's shoulder as she takes him to the ambulance. Another orphan created by violence. Will he grow up normal; somehow getting past this tragedy or am I at ground zero to the origin of another masked avenger. I excuse myself and then I'm back out into the night on the hunt. The night is just getting started.

A few hours later I'm standing on top of WayneTowers. This is the place Batman comes to look out over the city. I would be a pretty stupid coming here if I didn't know he has his hands full tonight. Plus I checked his and Nightwing's location over the computer.

All in all I haven't done too badly for my first night out. I saved a kid. I stopped a grocery store robbery. I caught six muggers. I'm going to go ahead and count the carjacking as a win; caught the guy but the car got totaled. The better part of me wants to call it a night. But I see a flash over to my right. I activate my telescopic lenses. What I see is a guy in a yellow and black armored suit with a jetpack; Garfield Lynns, the Firefly.

He is one of the majors. I should probably let this one go. I would love to actually except that he's heading straight towards me. I flip back into the shadows and let the photo reactive white in my costume tone down to smoke-gray. I hear the buzzing of his jet pack come closer as he lands.

"Wayne is the richest man I the city He'll pay big. Yes big. He'll pay millions for me not to burn this place down." He says out aloud as he paces. He's what would happen if you took a HDD kid kicked out the Ritalin and substituted it with pyromania and crack cocaine. "Yeah that's it millions."

Well it's time to pull up my big-boy pants and act like a superhero. I can't sit back a let this maniac torch WayneTower. Who knows how many people are still inside? Sometimes a hero gets a baptism by fire; of course mine would have to be way too literal.

"That's not going to happen, Lynns." I say from the shadow. Batman uses their real names to rattle them. To let them know that he hasn't brought into their 'crazy'.

"Bat-brat, is that you. It can't be he's all grown up." He replies turning his yellow antennae tipped helmet my way. Must I always be in my brother's shadow? "Whoever you are you're toast."

The buzzing in the back of my head goes wild as he swings his wrist blasters in my direction. I leap out of the way as heat beams race through my former hiding spot. I reply back with a couple of web-balls to his face. He reaches up to remove them; big mistake; my webbing can be like crazy glue when I want it to be.

"Arguhh" he screams pulling at his face. "What is this stuff?"

"I could tell you." I reply sticking to the side of an AC unit. "But I got to be in by ten."

"A kid." He screams. "I ain't getting beat by a stupid kid again."

I have a pretty cool come back but it dies in my throat as the air around me heats up. The webbing on his face evaporates. It takes no less than twelve hundred degrees to do that. This guy is a walking inferno.

"What's the matter?" Firefly asks shooing heat beams at me. "You ain't got anything clever to say?"

It's all I can do to keep from being barbecued. An AC unit burst into flames as I flip out the way. Ironically I may end up causing the very thing I was hoping to prevent. Then there's new addition to our little dance. The smell of ozone scents the air and the hairs on my arms stand up.

"Yo, bug head." He says. "You think you can just torch a house in the hood and roll out like nothing happened?"

Firefly turns around to see who it is and I take a second to catch my breath. The new comer is a black male, in his mid to late teens and standing on a flying metal garbage lid? Well it looks like a trashcan lid any way. He's got on a black turtle neck, black jeans, timberland boots, black gloves with metal fingertips along with a black ski mask and a black and white Gotham Senators hat; crooked to the side.

"Don't you have homework to do or something?" Firefly asks shooting beams at him.

The flying trashcan lid kid is pretty good he dips out of the way with time to spare. I'm no slouch either. I take the distraction to reach into my utility belt for a surprise. Before Firefly can get off another shot he's covered in fire retardant foam.

"Arguhh." He exclaims. "Can't a guy catch a break? I mean just once?"

Sweet. There's no way he's getting out of that. Without the heat powers of his suit he's just another thug; easily dispatched with a good right cross.

"Not bad." the guy on the trashcan lid says as I walk over to Firefly. "The name is Static."

"Spider-Man and I had this under control." I reply brusquely. Firefly is still trying to get his suit started. I know it's useless. Wayne-Tech designed the foam to penetrate on a near molecular level so basically his pilot light is out. I ignore him and instead expend a few more pellets to douse the remaining fires.

"Just trying to do some good." Static says.

"What are you doing in Gotham?" I ask. I'm not too worried about Firefly his jetpack is out and the doors down stairs are locked so he's not going anywhere.

"Like I said." Static replies. "I'm just trying to do some good."

"We don't like outsiders interfering." I reply.

"Who's we?" Static shoots back. "Batman's side kick is Robin. You don't look like a Robin to me."

"Didn't you hear?" I reply. "This fall Spider-Man's the new Robin."

Whatever Static says gets drowned out by the buzzing in the back of my head. A grenade arcs over our heads and Firefly catches it with one hand a heart beat later it explodes covering him in flaming gel; the polar opposite of my foam.

"You can thank me later Firefly." A voice over my head announces. The new comer is Killer Moth. He used to be a laughing stock; a real life Monarch from the Venture Brothers. Now he wears a set of black and silver armor complete with a scary insect inspired helmet. He rides around on a moth shaped glider that is armed to the teeth with missiles and laser weapons. To top it all off he carries silver satchel filled with all kinds of dangerous stuff from grenades to razor moths. If Firefly was beyond my training, then he might as well be Darkseid.

As I'm taking in the fact that I've stumbled across not one but two super villains on my first night out; Firefly is back in game.

"I owe you one Killer Moth." Firefly announces walking towards me laving flame traced footsteps.

"What entomologist's nightmare did these two come from?" Static asks taking the position at my back facing Killer Moth.

I can't help but laugh.

"Beats me." I reply.

"Any ideas Spider-Man?" He asks. "This is your city after all."

"Take them out." I reply.

"Oh you'll be long dead before that happens." Killer Moth announces.

"Should've stayed home tonight kids." Firefly adds.

"I've heard that discretion is the better part of valor." Static says.

"I agree." And we both bolt toward the edge of the building; heat beams and razor moths lancing after us.

I shoot a web line a swing around the side tower with Static at my tail.

"They're chasing us right?' I call over my shoulder.

"Yeah." He replies.

"Good." I reply. "We have to lead them away from here."

"How about over the river?"

"Works for me." I reply.

"Come on." He says bolting out ahead of me.

I catch the underside of his "flying trash can lid" with a web line and we're off. Killer Moth is on us first. There are sparkles heading my way. I don't need my spider-sense to know its moonlight glinting of a group of razor moths. With my free hand I knock them out the air with web shots. Killer Moth and his arsenal are going to overtake us before we make the river. I've got to do something drastic.

"Get Firefly." I tell Static as I let go of my web line. "I'll catch up."

I send up a hail of web balls as I dive at Killer Moth.

"What the hell is this stuff?"

"You kiss your mother with that mouth Mothy?" I reply.

I twist around and land behind him as he passes. I dodge a few hastily thrown elbows. I reply with a few kidney punches of my own. It's like hitting a steel punching bag. I make a mental note to add some knuckle reinforcement to my costume. I can feel his armor begin to heat up. This is ridiculous. It's my first night out and every super-villain knows how to defeat my main weapon. I say main because I've got small arsenal of my own. I reach into my utility belt; that's so cool no matter how many times I say it, and get a disk about the size of a half dollar and stick on the glider between the two footpads. Then I leap away.

By the time Killer Moth has burned away my webbing the thermite charge in the disk has done its job. If my guess is correct it should have burned through the Main Turbine Compressor. His Moth glider coughs smoke then dies. Killer Moth curses and I smile as I fall. That's right I'm falling. Not a problem.

I put my body in a gymnastic position known as the iron cross. A thin membrane based on my webbing forms between my arms down to my thighs; my glide wings. I follow after Killer Moth who's is acting like some deranged BASE jumper. He pops his chute at the last second landing on the roof of an abandoned warehouse at the Warf. He kicks in a door and vanishes inside.

I disengage my wings letting them drift away and drop in through the skylight. I break my fall with a bungee web line to the ceiling. It's the kind of entrance Batman does to put the fear of God in criminals. I guess I didn't pull it off though because my spider-sense; that's what I'm calling the buzz that warns me of danger, goes off before the glass has finished falling.

I dart out of the way of moth-bomb. It explodes into an acid cloud that's dissolving everything in a ten foot radius. Killer Moth is playing for keeps. My vision goes into passive night-vision curtsey of the starlight lenses in my mask. Killer Moth is reaching into his bag for another surprise but I've got one of my own. I hit him with a few of my own acid pellets. I doubt it's get through his armor but that's not what I was aiming for anyway. Something in his bag explodes sending him flying up like a rocket. He hits the ceiling and crashes down in a heap of smoke and noise. I smile as I call the police to come pick him up; thinking that it's over. It isn't.

I watch as he pushes himself to his feet. His armor bent and torn in places but he still has some fight in him. Good, there's something I want to try out.

"Get out here and face me." Killer Moth demands. "Only a coward hides in the shadows."

"You know something about spiders, Killer Moth." I ask; only a voice in the darkness. Bruce would be proud.

"What?" he snaps with contempt.

"They love Moths." I reply. "Come."

"Why don't you shut up and fight me you stupid idiot." He shouts. "I'll…."

His rant is cut short. A few hundred spiders crawling over you will do that. In a few seconds he goes from hard edged psycho to screaming little girl. He strips out of his armor down to his boxing shorts but they are all over him in his hair, under his arms, in his mouth.

"Go." I call out and they begin crawling back into the night.

He's lying on the ground in the fetal position with red welts forming on his body. Oh crap. I scoop up the "would be super-villain" and head to the hospital. Three minutes later we're at Gotham General where Moth gets treated for anaphylactic shock.

I'm putting the Robin cycle back in its spot when it hits me; I never went back to help Static with Firefly. Nothing I can do about it now. I get my suit stowed away in my room and get a nice hot shower taking the extra time to dry my hair. I get into bed and drift off to blissful sleep. At least I would have if somebody hadn't turned on the light. I pry my eyes open pretending I've been in bed all night.

"What's up?" I ask with a yawn looking up at Batman and Nightwing.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" Batman asked in a manner that said he already knew the answer.

I scanned Nightwing's face to see if he ratted me out but it was stone cold. Never play poker with any of the Wayne Manor Boys.

"What do you mean, Bruce?" I asked with out flinching; Wayne Manor is my home too, remember.

"Do you know who this is?" he asked handing me a picture. I sat up in bed and took the picture.

I reached over to the night stand for my glasses. They look and feel like my old ones but the lenses are different. I ordered mine from the place Clark gets his.

"Gwen was telling me about a new guy named Static." I replied looking at the photo. "Is this him?"

"Do you recognize him?" Batman asked.

"No." I replied." Should I?"

"Are you telling me you didn't know that your best friend Virgil is Static?"

Talk about a hammer blow between the eyes. I felt sick to my stomach. I really should have gone back. If something happened to Virgil I'll never forgive my self.

"No…" I replied. "I mean… I didn't know that Virgil is Static."

Batman looked me deep in the eyes for a moment.

"I told you he didn't know." Nightwing said.

Then Batman turned and left the room.

"What happened is Virgil alright?" I asked.

"Yeah, he's fine." Nightwing replied. "We gave him the talk about twenty minutes ago."

"Did it work?"

"We'll see." Nightwing replied. "Virgil had the same look in his eyes that you had when I left the cave tonight."

I didn't reply.

"Killer Moth was admitted to the hospital suffering from bug bites." Nightwing said. "You know any thing about that, Spidey?"

I can't lie to him so I just pulled up the covers and turned away.

"Please turn out the light on your way out." I asked.

"Sure." He said leaving me in darkness.

It wasn't a bad night out. There were definitely some issues. I'll be better prepared. Then I proclaim with a mighty whisper…

"I'll be better next time."