Chapter Text
There was something about the New York skyline. Something about how it brought worlds together.
Peter had been swinging across Queens for a long, long time now. He knew the best coffee shops, the darkest alleys he had to keep an eye out for during his vigils, even that tree Mrs. Henderson's cat kept climbing up. (Seriously, he'd rescued that cat like, five times now.)
But Hell's Kitchen? No idea.
Well, obviously he did know the basics, of course. He did know it was a part of New York, he'd heard about how it was badly affected during the Chitauri battle and some other things like that. It's just that he had more important things to remember, so small details about the neighbourhood slipped his mind.
He kinda regretted it now. Because Hell's Kitchen absolutely lived upto its name.
It wasn't a big thing, though, all things considered. This wasn't the first time he'd swung headfirst into a situation (his five-year picnic to an alien planet came to mind.) He could handle this. It was just New York, after all, right? How many surprises could it possibly throw at him?
One, was the answer, as he would find out.
Peter crouched on the rooftop, watching the criminals below and trying his best to be as inconspicuous as possible. He'd gone back to his original hadmade suit (he didnt want more reminders of what he'd lost) which, honestly, wasn't made for stealth. He hadn't done this kind of street stuff since the Vulture. But then again, he hadn't done anything for five years, so....
Anyway. Today, he was only finding out information. What did he know? Peter's current employer had just caught his teenage daughter with an unlicensed gun. His trail had started from a deli in Queens to an abandoned warehouse in Hell's Kitchen. (What was it with criminals and warehouses?) There was a plan being drawn up for a future trade of illegal firearms. And he was going to catch them red-handed-
His phone buzzed. A text. He'd check it later. He couldn't get distracted now.
What if it's important? His mind chimed in. What if something had happened? What if someone needed his help?
Fine. He grumbled and pulled out his phone.
A spam message! Seriously? Of all the times this thing could-
"You're terrible at stakeouts."
"What the hell!" Peter jerked to attention instantly and shot his webs in the direction of the voice. His webbing disappeared into the shadows, which started moving.
It lightly dodged Peter's new webbing and held up its hands in surrender.
"Spider-Man, isn't it?" The shadow slowly gained a red outline as he moved into the light.
"Yeah," He was suspicious. "Who are you?"
"Daredevil."
Pause.
"Who?"