Chapter Text
The address that Yuri--Wraith, as she calls herself now--sent Spider-Man leads him to a condemned office building in Hell’s Kitchen. It was supposed to have come down months ago but, well, construction never seems to finish on schedule at the best of times and New York hadn’t been going through the best of times as of late. Spider-Man circles the building once to get an idea of the place and spots Wraith also doing some reconnaissance from a rooftop across the street. Spider-Man ends his circuit by swinging toward her and landing lightly nearby. Wraith acknowledges his arrival by removing her mask and turning her head slightly toward him.
“Took ya long enough,” she comments.
“Hey, I got here as fast as I could. It’s not my fault you waited until you were already here to call me.”
“Sure you didn’t get delayed saying goodbye to your girlfriend?”
“No!” Spider-Man is quick to defend himself. “Besides, I think she fell back to sleep before I even left the room.”
Wraith glances back at Spider-Man with a teasing smirk. “Not waiting up with worry for her precious Spider-Man to return to her?”
Spider-Man laughs and shakes his head. “No. We moved past that a long time ago. Had to, or neither of us would ever get enough sleep.”
“Still, I imagine she’s been pretty happy lately,” she continues, turning back to continue her surveillance of the hideout. “Haven’t seen you around that often anymore. Mainly just the kid. Thought you took another vacation or something. God knows you need it.”
“More like, semi-retired,” Spider-Man admits sheepishly.
Wraith looks sharply over her shoulder at Spider-Man. “Retired?”
“Semi-” he corrects. “The other Spider-Man has proven that he can take care of the city without me and I’ve let a lot of things slide over the years. Spider-Man has been my focus since I started; now I need to focus on the guy under the mask. I’m not out of the game entirely, but I’m also trying not to spend every free hour fighting bad guys.”
Wraith sighs and leans against the waist-high wall ringing the roof, fully facing him. “It’s hard to remember that you weren't always Spider-Man. You were once a kid with no idea what you were doing. And then you say things like that and I remember that you're human too--well, mostly--and I think about that cocky brat who would continuously make jokes even when it was obvious how scared he was. And I feel sick. We failed you, Spider-Man. And we're failing the new Spider-Man too. The police, the courts, the lawmakers--every adult that is supposed to keep this city safe failed you both. If we had just done better, we wouldn’t have to rely on children to protect us.”
Spider-Man furrows his brows. “Yuri, you can’t really think that?” He shakes his head and spreads his hands wide in disbelief. “Do you really think anything you or the justice system could have done would have stopped the Lizard? Rhino? The Sandman? He’s made of sand, for crying out loud! I became Spider-Man because I saw an opportunity to use my powers to help people. I wasn’t forced into this; no one made me take up this responsibility. And it’s the same with the other Spider-Man. When he found me, I told him that he didn’t need to do this. I chose to fight but he didn’t have to. I offered to teach him how to control his powers--that’s it. But he wanted to help people. He-he wanted to be like me. ” Wonder and pride seep into Spider-Man’s voice. He’d been hailed as a hero for so long that sometimes he takes it for granted but for a kid as amazing as Miles to aspire to be like him, it astounds him every day. “And now he’s shaping up to be a better Spider-Man than I could ever be.” Spider-Man meets Yuri’s gaze and pours every bit of his conviction into his voice. “New York needs a Spider-Man, just like it needs people like Danika and those volunteering at FEAST. Just like it needs people like you." Beyond losing a friend, that's what had distressed Peter the most when Yuri was put on leave from the police. Hers was the one precinct that Spider-Man could whole-heartedly trust. With her gone, it's turned into the same mixed bag as the rest. Most of the cops there are still good, but corruption has started working its way through the ranks.
“He’s a good kid,” Wraith agrees, flicking her eyes away to stare sightless out at the city. "But nothing you've said disproves my point. The system we have now doesn’t work and we haven't done anything to change it. We can’t always rely on some kid with superpowers to save our asses when times get tough. And yet that’s all we’ve been doing. You became Spider-Man ten years ago. Can you tell me a single preemptive measure we've put in place to deal with the kinds of threats we've asked you to save us from? Nothing," she answers before Spider-Man can think. "All we've managed to do is build the Raft. We can contain the people who've threatened New York--most of the time--but we haven’t done a damned thing to prepare ourselves for people like them. No; instead there’s a standing order to arrest Spider-Man.” Wraith snaps her eyes back to his. “Do you know who’s responsible for how fucked up this city has been recently?”
Spider-Man nods grimly. “Norman Osborn.” It hurts to admit but his best friend’s father has never been the best person. After his wife died, it seemed like any semblance he had of a moral compass died with her. And after what happened with Harry… Spider-Man’s afraid--both for him and of him.
“Fucking Osborn.” Wraith runs her hands through her hair in frustration. “And yet we can’t do anything about that because everything he’s ever done is legal or covered up. You're right; this city needs Spider-Man. You're our beacon of hope. But it also needs people like me who are willing to get their hands truly dirty. I can't embody hope--I have too much blood on my hands for that. But I can make sure that scum like Hammerhead or the Flame don't steal the hope of innocents. If I can't do that as a cop, I have to do it as Wraith. Asking you to be okay with killing was wrong--I should never have tried to make you understand--but I still believe it’s necessary.”
“I won’t let you kill anyone while I’m around,” he responds instantly. Peter might have regretted letting the Flame go but Spider-Man isn’t allowed to have those kinds of thoughts.
“I know. I wouldn’t have called you if I thought the Flame was here. I don’t want to kill his underlings. Most of them are just easily manipulated fools that’ll shape up once he’s gone. My only goal here is to gather information.”
Spider-Man frowns, his eyes narrowing. Wraith didn’t have to ask for his help if she didn’t want to so he’s not offended by the idea of her working solo. No; it’s the blatant admission that she’s only partnering with him because it’s convenient to her. They used to be something of a team. They rarely fought together but they shared information whenever things were going down. Now she wants to keep him in the dark about what’s going on with her until she needs help. Yuri changed a lot on her way to becoming Wraith and every one of those changes worries him. But this? This is a much more personal slight, and it almost hurts him worse than the resentment and anger she had directed his way when he stopped her from killing the Flame. It makes his stomach churn and his mouth feel like it’s been filled with acid. It drips from his words unintentionally when he says, “Fine. Then let’s just get this over with. But we will talk more about this later.” As long as the Flame isn’t around, he’ll still be a useful tool, after all. She'll call him again the next time she finds a base to raid.
Yuri glances over at Spider-Man in surprise. It’s rare that he ever sounds angry and he’s never been angry at her. “Spider-Man?”
He ignores her question and shoots a web toward a building adjacent to the hideout. They’ve been up here talking long enough and he has work in the morning.