Chapter Text
There was no road this time, only the shining white snow that slowly turned scarlet behind him. His shadow stretched down the sidewalk, it curved and bent making it look unnatural and disfigured.
The heavy snow obscured his vision to the point that he could barely see his own feet as he walked. Every step he took his legs disappeared from view, lost in a blinding fury of snow. Ahead of him, just barely visible was a small building, its features obscured but it had a vague outline. It looked to be three stories, with a curved roof that converged in a centre point in the middle and it looked like it had a few windows. There was one at least, a small flickering of light shone through one.
He left footprints behind him as he trudged through the fury, that were the only break in the ground, though they didn't last long. After a few moments they would fill and the smooth white landscape would return.
Icy wind gently brushed against his skin, goosebumps flaring up along his arms.
Close enough now to make out the door, he could see its design. It was ruby red, with intricate roses whose petals fell off that was carved into the top of the door. The petals fell down it, when it got to the middle of the door the petals came together to form a sunflower. The bottom half of the door had a small metal rising sun nailed onto it, the rays of the sun reflecting onto the flowers above it. He stared at the door, half confused. Wouldn't it make more sense for the sun and flowers to switch sides? Though that wasn't what was plaguing his mind, somewhere at the back of his mind he knew he knew this door. But from where?
'Peter'
It came from behind the door, a gentle and raspy voice. It sounded breathless.
As quick as his mind could comprehend, the red paint dripped off the door onto the ground revealing a dark green underneath. It pooled at the entrance, though it didn't spread to the surrounding snow. Peter approached the pool cautiously, the swirling snow around him had ceased unnoticed to him and the howling wind had died. Entirely focused on the pool, the teen lost the world around him. He stepped up to the pool, a dark crimson reflection stared back at him as he looked down.
The shape shifted and swirled, at moments becoming clear and at other moments resembled nothing but a shapeless blob.
'Peter'
Hands erupted from the pool and grasped the teen by his neck, choking him. They were drenched in the red liquid and Peter could feel it run down his neck and clothes as the hands held him. Gasping for air he grabbed onto the choking hands and attempted to pull them away from his neck. Mustering all his strength he pulled. Nothing.
'Peter'
Slowly, slowly, a head began to emerge from the pool. As the chin came out into the open, the eyes darted open and stared at Peter. Those eyes. Not those eyes. Always those eyes. Why those eyes?
The world shook around her. Falling dust obscured her vision and clogged her lungs.
What was going on? Where was she?
The girl steadied herself on a stool that was next to her, shakily she stood up.
Before her was the chandelier that for as long as she could remember had hung in the middle of the stairs. It had partially shattered, stray pieces of glass and metal were spread around the ground. The building shook, every bit of rubble was knocked around the room. The girl screamed and leaped under a small table next to her.
"Dad!" she cried out. When she got no response she screamed again, "Mom!"
Silence echoed around the shaking room.
Outside the world shouted, though it was muted and barely audible to the girl. There was a ringing in her ears and her vision was blurred by salty tears.
Movement caught her eye. Someone was at the top of the stairs.
"Daddy!" the girl cried out, the man looking at the girl under the table.
He walked down the stairs, seemingly unaware of the descending chaos around him, his focus was entirely on the girl under the table. "Kate," he smiled though it brought the girl no comfort, "what's wrong? Get out from under that table you little goofball" he joked, motioning with his arms for her to come to him. She didn't move. The man stopped halfway down the stairs and looked out the window next to him. "It's a beautiful day out," countless things flew by, they let out a demonic cry as they went by, "why don't we go for an ice-cream? Doesn't that sound lovely? It does doesn't it. A nice cool ice-cream on a hot day like today." The man nodded to himself.
Just as he was about to step off of the stairs, he stopped on the final step. His face was sweet, his smile sweeter but it didn't reach his eyes. They were shining with happiness but she could tell there was nothing behind them. His skin began to turn grey, the girls stomach lurched as his eyes glossed over lifelessly. His smile was still present and it was still sweet but that didn't last long. He looked at her and in a soft voice, the kind of voice a parent would speak to their child with as they were tucking them into bed, said "Why didn't you save me Kate?"
In a burst of light and a violent tremble, the stairs and and the part of the building around it exploded. Shards of glass, chunks of concrete and splinters of wood were flung in every direction. A warm air flew into the room from outside and the chaos of the city that was dulled beforehand was now violently loud. People screamed, car horns blared and explosions were set off as Kate was knocked off of her feet. Dust and smoke clogged her vision. Her head felt... wet and it became a struggle to keep her eyelids open. They felt heavy, really heavy and she could feel energy seeping out of her. It should be alright to close her eyes, just for a moment and try to get that energy back.
'KATE!'
She awoke with a start in her room. It was a dream. Just a dream. The same dream.
The damp suit clung to his skin, he had to wipe his goggles with his wet fingerless gloves to be able to see whatever was in front of him even though he could barely see five feet ahead of him when he did.
The sound of the falling rain drowned out most of the sounds of the city and made his webs slip off particularly wet surfaces, he had a couple of close calls with street lights. He liked the rain when he was inside and dry and was listening to the sounds of it pelting against his bedroom window. He did not like being out in it. The thought of having to put on a damp suit tomorrow if it didn't fully dry when he got home made him want to quit for the day but he didn't. It didn't help that he didn't sew his suit right, the freshly sewn parts of the costume were sewn with a thinner fabric than the rest of the costume, something he decided he'd remedy when his suit was fully dry; which would probably be in a week if the weather kept up.
He shot a web towards the underside of a bridge and pulled himself toward the ceiling of it. He stuck there upside down looking around him. A woman was running down the road with her child beside her, desperate to escape the downpour. Further down a man was desperately trying to properly put the toddler seatbelt around the toddler's seat.
He would love to stay under the bridge for the rest of the day, or at least until the rain passed. A fire truck appeared out of nowhere and raced under the bridge, its blaring siren almost deafening to the teen, its flashing lights reflecting off of the falling rain turning the drops into colourful pellets.
Duty called.
Dropping from his dry spot under the bridge, he leapt into the air and caught up to the truck
Unknown to the firefighters in the truck, they had an extra passenger sticking to the back of the truck. In the distance the costumed teen could see billowing smoke, defacing the city skylines.
The burning building appeared after the truck turned a corner, passing a thrift store and a cosy little coffee shop that Peter would definitely need to return to later. The building itself wasn't what Peter was expecting though he wasn't sure what he was expecting.
It was completely unremarkable in every way, plain grey bricks with no colour or humanity anywhere. It looked like any other dull building you wouldn't look at twice as you walked through the city, though this one was up in smokes. Fire was pouring out of the shattered windows, the frames burnt black. The scene was completely silent, there were no screams, no sounds of life, just the sound of the falling rain and the crackling of wood burning. The building looked angry, the fire its rage and the windows its many mouths screaming fury into the rain. It sat alone on the docks, no other surrounding buildings around it. That was good, there was no risk of another building catching fire and complicating matters any further.
The truck came to a stop a few feet from it, the tyres squelched as they roughly cut through soft mud. The costumed teen jumping on top of the truck, heard the surprise and confusion of the firefighters beneath him, he hadn't landed as quietly as he had wanted. The doors to the truck opened and the men stepped out, frantically looking up at the hero though their confusion deepened at what they saw.
"I'm going inside to see if there's anyone in there!" Peter shouted before the firefighters had any chance to say anything. He leaped over to the building, ignoring the shouts of protest from them. Landing on the roof of the burning building, the building seemed to shake beneath him though whether it was or the teen himself that was shaking was unknown to him, nor did he care to discover which was what. He made his way towards an open window on the roof and peered inside. Smoke poured out of it as he opened it, the teen recoiling as it did.
"Hello?!" he screamed into the blaze, the only response he received was a charred table collapsing in on itself. Carefully, very carefully he stuck to the ceiling and crawled along it, avoiding any of the taller flames that threatened to brush against him or the ceiling. No one was inside, peering further into the fires he couldn't make out anything, just vague swirling shapes covered in infernos. None of the shapes resembled anything human like which relieved him. As he examined his surroundings his nerves settled and a cold practicality gripped his brain. This building was bare, even for one on the docks. The only items inside were some scattered bits of furniture though they were few and far between. So either this warehouse wasn't in use or whatever was being stored here if anything had already been transported elsewhere.
A new question gripped him as he looked around, now motionless on the ceiling in the centre of the fire. He had been in the blaze for less than a minute though he dared not to stay for much longer, breathing in this smoke was definitely not doing him any favours.
Where had it started? The fire. It had to be some sort of electrical fault or something but a nagging voice at the back of his head doubted it was that. He had watched enough 'CSI' with May to pick up a few things about how fires could start, or potentially start though there were no obvious signs. This was a big building and was almost completely bare, which to him meant it was used for storage. To store what he didn't know but that was what made sense to him. Then why burn it down?
They were storing something here that they didn't want any traces remaining.
Whatever evidence if any they had left behind was almost definitely burning away as he thought. Giving the interior one last scrutinous look, a small metallic object shined faintly among the fire. In one fluid motion he shot a web at it, pulled it towards him and held it by the dagger on a web in front of him. It was a knife. A very familiar knife.
The knife was surprisingly small, it looked smaller than his palm but he knew there was a kick to them. Laced with some sort of toxin that was stronger than horse tranquilizer, the blade glistened slightly and smelled like... pickles?
A shelf fell somewhere in the room, bringing Peter back to his senses. The teen wrapped the knife in a thick coating of his webs and placed in a pocket on the inside of his hoodie. He crawled out the way he came in and as soon as he attempted in a breath of clean air he had a small coughing fit. His chest felt clogged, his lungs felt clogged so as he coughed he banged his chest and lifted the mask up exposing his mouth. Coughing up some phlegm, he felt a lot clearer though every breath felt a bit smoky.
The sound of water putting out fire, the crackling and sizzling as the embers died erupted from the front of the building. Faintly he could hear the someone shouting orders.
"Over there! Focus over there!"
Oh right.
The firefighters had their hoses held in their arms and four of them were focused on the bottom windows. One stood back barking orders to the only two who weren't hosing down the fire. They nodded their heads, their faces as still and serious as stone as they took in the order. The duo ran off, towards the side of the building out of sight from the teen. Presumably the captain, pulled out his cell phone but put it away as the costumed teen landed in front of him.
His eyes shone with confusion before glossing over with fury, "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?! I SHOULD HAVE YOU ARRESTED FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE!" he roared, his moustache fluttering as his mouth opened and closed as he roared. The mans cheeks were red and the rest of his face was flushed, the colour similar to a tomato. If he got any angrier steam would probably pour out of his ears. He heaved, no not breathed, heaved in breaths of air when he was done. This guy was really angry.
About to open his mouth again for presumably another fit of shouts, Peter interrupted the man. "Hey man I'm just doing my due diligence and there's nobody inside thanks for asking. I saved you guys a lot of time by checking out the inside."
"WE KNEW NOBODY WAS INSIDE ALREADY! YOU DIDN'T SAVE US ANY TIME YOU JUST COMPLICATED MATTERS BY ENTERING THE BURNING BUILDING. AND ALSO DUE DILIGENCE? LISTEN HERE, YOU WERE NOT DOING YOU'RE DUE DILUGENCE YOU WERE BEING IRRESPONSIBLE." he shook as he shouted and Peter worried for the mans blood pressure.
"Okay okay, I'll just leave geez." he said, shooting a web and swinging into the grey skyline. The captains incoherent roars still filled his ears as he swung away. 'Man that guys mean', Peter thought, a bit annoyed at the mans shouts.
Back at the scene, the captain put a hand over his heart, and slowed his breathing. Reluctantly he took out his phone and shakily punched in a number onto the small screen. "Man," he began, his eyes and lips quivering, "boss is not gonna like this."
Thunk
The arrow hit the bullseye, the sound of it piercing the large wooden frame echoing around the empty auditorium.
Kate Bishop stood alone in the auditorium, her only company was her bow and the targets. Around her, the bleachers had been locked up and pushed to the backwall, allowing more room for the basketball game that had been played a few hours ago. The shiny floor was marked by numerous shoe marks and ball marks and at certain points small beads of sweat were still visible on the ground. The game had been an important one for some team, what one Kate didn't know but it had nothing to do with her school. The hall had been rented out by some basketball club and so school had ended early.
Archery had been a constant in her life for years now, the teen had practiced it almost everyday, so to go a weekday without putting in at least a thirty minute practice made her feel sluggish. When the game had ended and the hall had cleared, the archer rummaged through some PE equipment and had found a small wooden archery target that would work for her. It was bigger than the one the her club used, the target three times as large and took up most of the wooden board. Ashley had refused to take part in the practice (she had just gotten out of detention as the game ended), instead her and Jack planned to spend the day wandering around the city doing stuff couples did like... well she didn't know but in her mind they were sharing a milkshake and were taking a stroll through a park with grass that was way too green.
With an arrow docked on her bow, one eye closed as she aimed at the target, she inhaled through her nose and emptied her mind of any stray thoughts or excess emotions. She sought a void in her mind, one that dulled her thoughts and focused her whole self solely on the target in front of her.
It came to her and it enveloped her.
Thunk
Another bullseye.
She reached for another arrow in her quiver, only for her fingers to grasp at air. She sighed. All out.
The small orange handbag her mom had gotten her for her birthday was thrown on a pull-up chair that was a couple of feet away from her. Inside it, her phone had occasionally pinged and vibrated as she practiced. While shooting she had opted to ignore it but now she should probably check what was being sent to her.
Kate unlocked her phone and was surprised to see that it was 21:15. She had been practicing for close to two hours now. Yeah her mom was going to kill her. Speaking of her mom, she had at least twenty unread messages from her. The teen quickly sent her mom a quick text telling her she was on her way home.
Outside, the world had gone dark but the city was still alight with life and noise. The artificial light of the street lights seeped into the auditorium through the windows towards the ceiling, illuminating the room with an orange hue. Pushing the targets back into the storage room wasn't too hard, they were surprisingly light, the teen made sure to collect her arrows from the targets, put them back into her quiver and threw it to the side. The double sliding doors were still open when she went to put the targets back, she left them open in case she needed anything else from the room though she hadn't. The lock she had picked lay open on the floor in front of the doors, she kicked it out of the way as she dragged the targets into the room. Inside the room there were a few stray basketballs, footballs, cones, coloured bibs and some nets. The room was a mess.
As she closed the doors and relocked the them, the thought of an iced tea came to her and she found it hard to resist. A nice peached iced tea would be great. There was a shop about two blocks from here, she was almost sure of it. Her mom wouldn't be too mad if she stopped there before going home right? Well she was already late home and what was the difference between getting home at 22:00 and 22:05 anyway? A measly five minutes. She'd be fine.
Walking out of the school wasn't the simplest thing to do at this time, all the teachers had gone home and technically the school had closed after the match so she shouldn't really be here. All the doors were definitely locked, though what nobody besides her and Ashley knew was that there was a window in room 4 that if you shimmied the lock with a toothpick, it could unlock and the window could be opened. That is exactly what the teen did.
She closed the door behind her as she entered the classroom. At the far wall directly in front of her was her exit window. It lead directly into the teachers car park, though it was empty now. Kate approached the teachers desk, a giant whiteboard behind it. On it, were some maths equations as well as faint outlines of some 'art' that had been furiously erased though if you looked at the right angle or the light hit it right, you could still see it. Mr Sullivan hated when people drew anything onto his whiteboard, while other teachers could see the humour in it and laugh, he did not. The man was pushing sixty and his tolerance for anything and everything had withered away over the years. Now he was a grumpy man who hated teenagers, not that Kate could blame him. If she had to spent forty years surrounded by idiots her own age then it would drive her insane.
The small drawer that Mr Sullivan kept beside his desk that contained the a tonne of pencils was unlocked. During the day it was locked and was used to store anything the man confiscated. There were three compartments, the top one contained the pens and pencils, the middle was used for the confiscated equipment and the bottom was used for whatever the man wanted to keep handy which luckily enough for Kate was toothpicks. The man in his later years had developed a habit of picking out pieces of food between his teeth with them after he had to get a tooth removed. He did it religiously everyday after lunch even during a class.
Kate opened the bottom drawer and picked out a small toothpick from the small cup he kept them in.
The toothpick inserted into the lock easily enough, she fiddled around inside the lock for a moment before hearing that satisfying click. The lock opened and she was able to lift up the window. Before leaving, she went back to the drawer and opened up the one with the confiscated items inside. To her surprise it was still there. Inside was an arrow, though instead of a pointed tip there was a small tennis ball that acted as the tip. Ashley had used it to shoot at a girl that insulted her. Ashley had immediately gotten detention and the arrow was confiscated, she had forgotten to pick it up. Sighing, Kate squeezed the arrow into her quiver, it was a little heavier than she had expected. She'd give it to Ashley tomorrow, when they were out of school so there wouldn't be a repeat incident.
With that, the teen climbed through the open window and stepped into the parking lot. Closing the window gently behind her, careful not to crush her fingers as she lowered it, she thought about the iced tea.
Her mind was made up.
The walk was a short one, about three minutes total before she could see the small shop. The streets were surprisingly quiet, there weren't as many people out as she had expected. The shop was on the other side of the street, peering inside she could see there was someone at the counter. Some shady looking guy. Before she could cross the street she could heard a car, then two and then three. She waited for them to pass before crossing.
There was a shout from inside and the doors to the shop burst open. The shady looking man was almost hungrily grasping at a small black metal box that he held close to his chest. His eyes were obscured by sunglasses, but Kate was sure that underneath them his eyes were mad with excitement. He looked left and right, the man decided left and began running in the direction of Kates school. She was still on the opposite side of the road.
A small plump man quickly burst outside as well, his cheeks red and his face sweaty. "STOP THAT THIEF!" the man shouted, cupping around his mouth with his hands to enhance his voice. The few people that were around stepped out of the mans way as he ran.
Her mind was blank. Without thought or process she took the tennis ball arrow from her quiver and docked it.
Breathe in.
Her fingers tightly grasped the end of the arrow, she could feel the strain of the bow string as she stretched it back. She aimed for the man and then raised the angle of the shot upwards.
Slow exhale.
Release.
The arrow sailed through the air, it hit the high of its arc as it soared over the passing cars before making contact the thieves head. A loud 'thunk' echoed down the street and the sound of something small and metallic sliding along the pavement travelled down the street as well. In the few moments the thief was knocked down, the shop owner was able to catch up and jump onto him. The shopkeeper was out of breath but with the help of a few people who had gained a bit of courage seeing the downed and pinned man, helped keep him down. One of the onlookers called 911.
Down the street, Kate looked on shocked. She hadn't known what she was doing. It was instinct. It... felt good.