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“Cho,” Spider-Man called from behind him. Amadeus startled, barely managing to keep his hands still so he didn’t fry the whole panel.
“Yes, Spider-Man?”
“Hey, I’m putting you up for some one-on-one training later this week. This is your heads-up.”
Amadeus made a face, offense swelling in him. “I’ve passed all the recent exercises. Why do I have to do one-on-one?”
“One-on-one suitless training,” Spidey corrected. “I was watching some fight footage from a few weeks ago and I realized I never taught you any kind of hand-to-hand.”
Amadeus rolled his eyes and extracted his hand. With a twitch of his fingers, the mask he’d had retracted closed over his face. “I have the Iron Spider. I don’t need hand-to-hand.”
“You do,” Spider-Man corrected cheerfully. “Even Iron Man himself can throw a punch, and a good one at that.”
“I’ve never needed it so far!”
“Cool.” Spider-Man’s wrist fell, moving forward to toss something at him. Amadeus tried to dodge, but wasn’t fast enough as it latched onto his suit.
With a crackle, Iron Spider retracted from him. “Spidey?” he demanded, staring at his… team leader? Mentor? “What was that for?”
“Localized EMP,” Spider-Man said smugly. “I made my first one in fourth grade. If I can do it, Ock and the rest of the world can too. Your suit keeps you safe, but only so long as you’re in it. And even then, tech can fail.”
He was right. But… Amadeus had his pride. “You can’t make me do it.”
Spider-Man tipped forward onto his toes, hands behind his back. “Actually, I’m SHIELD’s Acting Director at the moment, so I really can. Not to mention the whole… Spider-Man thing. And the EMP thing. And super strength, and also general seniority. There’s really a lot of ways I can make you do it.”
“Maybe I won’t show up,” Amadeus grumbled, plucking the EMP off the ground and kicking it across the lab.
“Maybe I’ll start following you around the Triskelion and just attack you whenever I feel like it,” Spider-Man retorted. “That’s basically how I learned, after all.”
Amadeus wrinkled his nose. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Do you know how many times I wanted to say that and keep swinging? Ugh. Supervillains.” He cocked his head. “If you give me… five minutes right now, I’ll leave you alone about this for the next three days.”
“This feels like a trap.”
“Who says it’s not?” Spider-Man asked cheerfully. “Look at it this way. Three days, or I drag you to the gym in fifteen minutes.”
“Ugh! Fine.” Amadeus turned around. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere. Put ‘em up.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, come on.” Spider-Man lifted his fists to his chin and motioned for Amadeus to do the same.
He did, once he’d waited a few seconds to make sure he was actually serious about hand-to-hand tips in the middle of his lab. This was a terrible idea.
“First thing… don’t let the adrenaline get to you. You’ll just panic, and you’ll hit hard with no aim. Breathe slow, breathe deep. Relax.”
“I can’t relax when Spider-Man’s about to punch me!” Amadeus snapped.
“I’m not going to punch you,” Spider-Man laughed. “Hands up, hips square to me, and don’t make the first move.”
He shifted. “Use your feet. When they go off-balance, that’s when you make your move.” Slowly, he moved, pretending to throw a fist at the side of Amadeus’ head, one hand coming up in front of his face.
Hesitantly, Amadeus pushed his own fist into the hand. “Like that?”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s good. This time, though, put some power behind it. I’ll give you a free shot, pretend I’m coming to tell you it’s time to stop tinkering.”
“That’s what you did come in for.”
He crouched a little so his head was at perfect height.
“Lemme have it, o--”
Pow! Amadeus punched him, watching with widened eyes as he stood up, turning around as he felt at his jaw.
“Sorry! Was that too hard?”
“No, no, that was great! See, you have it in you. I’ve taken a punch from Hulk, a thirteen year old kid isn’t what’s gonna turn me into a vegetable. Keep that up and you’ll be in business.” He gave him a thumbs-up, hopping on his toes as he tipped toward the door. “I’m about to head off on patrol, but I wanted to let you know before I left. Three days, as promised.”
“Wait!” Amadeus wasn't one hundred percent sure what he was doing, but thirty percent was better than nothing, right?
Spidey halted mid-step. “What's up?”
“Uh, just-- is this what you do with Kid Arachnid? Fighting techniques?” The two of them would sometimes come in well after everyone else had already come back from classes, and Kid Arachnid was always beaming up at Spider-Man. And Spider-Man always looked like a proud older brother. Sometimes Kid Arachnid even came in with ice cream.
It wasn’t every day, but definitely enough.
“Miles? Yeah, sometimes. Sometimes not. Dunno, he's just… fun, y'know? It's like he actually enjoys talking to me. It's nice.”
“You’re annoying sometimes, but I don't… hate your company.”
“Good to hear,” Spidey chuckled.
“And, Spidey?”
“Yeah?”
“I don't need the three days,” Amadeus decided. “We can try tomorrow.”
The bottoms of Spidey's lenses flattened, the top round in a way that made it look like the man was smiling. “Yeah, we can do tomorrow, Cho.”
With those words as a goodbye, he swung out of the room.
Amadeus would have to do some combat research tonight, then. Just so he didn't look like an idiot.
Amadeus was cautious walking into the training room. A near-miss coming in one time had taught him that lesson well enough. Nova, and Power Man, and Nova had been chucked at the wall, and…. well, he’d learned his lesson.
Spidey, however, looked calm enough, one foot up on the far wall as he fiddled with his comm bracelet. Amadeus was pretty sure his comm bracelet was also his webshooters, but Spidey had never let him look.
Amadeus really wanted to get his hands on the schematics for his webshooters.
Spidey gave him a little wave and pushed off the wall, a jerk of his head motioning for Amadeus to toss his water bottle next to the other one already there. He’d never seen Spider-Man bring a water bottle to training before.
How bad was this going to get?
Spider-Man met him in the center of the ring, looking way too comfortable on the spongy floor.
“Ready for your first lesson?”
“No?"
“Perfect. Rule one, you’re never ready for anything.” Amadeus must have made a face at that, because Spider-Man chuckled and shifted his weight. “Okay, real rule one. Never hold back. I’m not saying unload a missile canister into someone's face, but if it's hand-to-hand, fight as hard as you can straight outta the gate. Every time.”
Amadeus cocked his head. “Don't you hold back in every fight?”
“I could flick somebody's skull concave. I'm in a different situation. For me, I had to learn how to control my strength. There were only so many times I could replace the doorknob to my room before the people at the hardware store thought I was into interior design.”
“Really?”
“Really. Throw another punch at me, this time to my hand. I wanna see where your strength's at.”
Amadeus threw the punch, and then another on Spidey's command. Spidey straightened back up.
“Alright. Bend your knees.”
Amadeus bent his knees.
“Not that much,” Spidey said, showing him what he meant. “Good. It's your elbow that a punch comes from, and your elbow on its own can do a lot more damage than you think it can. Don't be afraid to use it to break somebody's nose.”
He pointed to his eyes. “Eyes, nose, groin. Joints are almost always great weak spots. Rip somebody's ear off if you have to. It’s weak, it’s possible.”
“Whoa, I'm not ripping someone's ear off.” Did people actually do that? He could imagine maybe Wolverine trying something like that, but he could just claw their entire head off, so…
“I hope you never have to,” Spidey said. “But in case you do, I want you to know how. Palm strike to the bottom of the nose can do serious damage. That one can kill if you do it hard enough, so try not to use it too often.”
He placed the base of his palm right above Amadeus’ lip and mimed how to hit upward to do it properly, making Amadeus flinch backward.
“Like that.” He gently shoved Amadeus’ head, making him stumble. “Where the head goes, the body follows. You move the head, you move your enemy.”
Amadeus felt a little overwhelmed as Spider-Man ducked behind him and said, “never ever lose sight of your enemy. A sneak attack can always be deadly.”
Amadeus threw his hands down. “Where did you learn this stuff?”
“Like I said yesterday,” Spidey shrugged. “Trial and error. I didn't know to block my vitals, I got stabbed in the gut. I lost sight of a mugger, I got shot. I had to figure it out.” He sighed, one hand going up to the top of his mask. Amadeus got the feeling that if it wasn't there, he'd be running fingers through his hair.
“I had some… rough crap happen to me when I was younger. I told my family I wouldn't ever feel safe again until I could punch someone out. So my uncle, he was a police officer, and he showed me how to throw a punch like I showed you yesterday. And now I've taught that same punch to dozens of other kids around New York that didn't feel safe either. Other than that, I didn't have a mentor. I learned because I had to. I want better for you and Miles, so I'm doing my best.”
“I think you're doing a pretty good job.”
Spider-Man’s mask did the smiling eyes again. “Aw man, this is what it feels like to be a proud mentor. My minions are growing up!”
Amadeus scoffed. “I'm not your minion.”
“Sure you are! Alright, time for basic blocks.” Spidey lifted his fists up to his hairline, covering his face. “This is the most basic block there is. That's why you keep your fists up when you're punching, so if you need, they don't have to go up much further for a block.”
He pushed a soft fist into Amadeus’ raised forearms. “Move ‘em around if you have to. Whatever you gotta do, get the hit to your arms instead of your face.”
“What if they're too strong?”
“Then they might break your arms,” Spider-Man said bluntly. “But always better that than your face.”
“I work with my hands,” Amadeus pointed out.
“Yeah,” Spider-Man said amusedly, “but those hands aren't gonna be very useful if the brain behind them got turned into soup. You can always pull an Ock, make robot hands or something, but you can never replace your brain.”
“Fine.” Amadeus threw another punch at him, Spidey ducking backward. He rolled back to his feet, lenses wide.
“Hey, whoa, punch something like that and you’ll break your wrist. Fist in line with your elbow.” He flattened his hands against the flat of Amadeus’ knuckles and his elbow, holding up Amadeus’ arm. “Like this, ‘kay? Your wrist tips sideways like it did a second ago, the top of your radius bone could crack. When it faces this way, it has the power of your whole arm behind it.”
“Don’t all punches have the power of my arm behind it?”
“You want power flowing into a circuit with the right voltage, or one with a crooked resistor on the line? The strength of your arm goes out through your fist, not the end of your wrist.” He stopped and snickered. “Hey, that rhymed.”
Amadeus rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. That makes sense. What else?”
Spider-Man seemed to relax more after that, and by the time they were done, Amadeus wouldn’t say he was good or anything, but… he did feel a little safer to walk around without his suit. He wasn’t going to stop carrying it or anything, but it was a nice feeling.
The bruises were not as nice of a feeling. He was sore. Everywhere.
Spider-Man clunked his water bottle to Amadeus, the little hint of his jaw visible showing a pleased expression as he took a sip. “I think… maybe an hour of this, twice a week.”
“Twice a week?”
“You want me to start beating you up every day?” Amadeus shot him a dirty look. “You’re a busy kid. I get that. Two days a week means you probably won’t get too rusty between sessions, and bruises can heal. Plus, this way you’re not overwhelmed between me and school.”
Amadeus made a face. “You already train with Kid Arachnid and do school.”
Spidey nodded. “And a lot of other things spider-minions aren’t privy to,” he said with an awful grin. He ruffled Amadeus’ hair before he could hit him for it. “I’m different, though. Team leader, and I have other… Spider-Man duties I keep on top of outside of SHIELD.”
“We’re allowed to do hero things outside of SHIELD?”
“Again, I’m different.” He shrugged. Something buzzed, and Amadeus and Spidey looked down at the same moment. Spidey flipped open the oldest phone Amadeus had ever seen (it flipped open! It opened! Phones shouldn’t do that!) and skimmed whatever was on the screen. The part of his face that was still uncovered scrunched up, and he snapped it shut and stowed it back wherever it had come from.
All Amadeus had managed to catch was ‘matty b’, all lowercase.
“What was that?”
“Spider-Man duties!” Spider-Man said, then slapped his knees like an eighty-year-old man and stood up. “Good session, Cho. I’ll see you Thursday.”
“I’m busy.”
“I literally have access to every schedule on the team,” Spidey said dryly, rolling down his mask. “No, you’re not.”
Amadeus opened his mouth, but he wasn’t sure what to say, so he just waved as Spidey strode out the doors, black SHIELD-issue water bottle dangling from his pinky finger.
That hadn’t been so bad.