Chapter Text

Chapter 1: Somewhere in Queens

18:40, somewhere in queens

He really- really didn’t have time to get stabbed tonight.

There were nights where he’d have all the time in the world to get stabbed, shot, taken a punch or two. Tonight wasn’t that night. No, tonight he had plans. A rare occurrence, one might add.

He had gotten so lucky; a date to his college’s spring ball. The dance of the year. He had it all planned out. He’d pick her up in Pandora’s Fiat 500, then pull up to the ball in his nicely steamed suit, and have a fun night with his friends--for the first time in a long time.

But no. He just had to get stabbed instead. You’d think a friendly neighbourhood Spiderman wouldn’t often find himself in situations like these but surprisingly, he did.

Very, very often.

And it wasn’t even as if he had tried stopping a gang fight or something, then he would’ve been somewhat fine with being stabbed. It was just another dumb mistake, of trying to save a paranoid old man from a robbery. And I hear you thinking; did the robber stab him? No, the old man did. After screaming something about the devil finally having found him.

At least the man still had his wallet.

He didn’t stab hard, probably due to the fact he was old, weak and well- crazy. But it had hit him deep enough to make him seriously bleed. The man had swung the knife at him twice before finally piercing through his skin right beneath his collarbone. If that knife had gone deeper it could’ve been lethal, so at least he got kind of lucky.

He didn’t feel so lucky though, once again standing at the front door and clutching his hand over the bleeding skin. Some of it had already soaked into his suit, most of it was on his spandex covered hands.

His sister gasped when she opened the door. “Evan!”

Evan pulled off his mask with his free hand, giving her a crooked smile.

“Hey Pandora,” He said, weakly- too weak. “I uh-”

“Got stabbed?” Pandora asked, crossing her arms with a look of practiced motherly disapproval.

Evan huffed out a laugh. “Yeah… kind of.”

Pandora sighed, grabbing Evan’s arm to support him as she led him into the living room.

She wasn’t surprised. Nor was she angry or annoyed, just disappointed. Pandora had known ever since Evan had started his little hero act, he would end up in dangerous situations from time to time. And yes, she was proud of her brother for doing all that, but he kept getting blood on her expensive rugs, and the dry cleaner was starting to get suspicious.

There wouldn’t ever come a time where Pandora wouldn’t patch up her brother and take care of him, though. She did it when they were little, cleaned up the scrapes on his knees whenever he’d take a tumble. And she would do it for the rest of her life if she had to.

“I thought you had that school thing tonight?” Pandora asked, softer than earlier by the door. She didn’t look up at her brother as she tended to the wound on his chest.

Evan hissed as she wiped a cotton pad with rubbing alcohol on it around the wound.

“I don’t think I’ll be attending.” He gritted through his teeth.

Pandora stopped patting and turned around to grab a piece of gauze. “What about your date?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

Evan let out a soft laugh. “She’ll be fine, her friends are there as well.”

“I bet she was looking forward to going with you.” Pandora said, tilting her head as she made sure the gauze was secure on the wound. “You should go.”

It was quiet for a few seconds, then Evan nodded slowly.

“Can I-”

“Yes, you can borrow my car.”

---

20:20, Hallowmere University of Arts & Applied Sciences

Evan regretted his choice the second he walked through the school doors. He had heard the music blocks away, but inside of the gym-turned-ballroom, it was worse than he had imagined.

His date wasn’t happy either. He was an hour late after all, had no excuse and did not bring her flowers. He wanted to, really. In fact, that was what he was getting when he ran into the elderly man he saved who ended up stabbing him. Funny, butterfly effect.

The girl wasn’t very nice in the first place, but all this definitely didn’t make it any better. The second she saw her friend on the dancefloor she was gone; he’d basically just been her ride.

“Alright, catch you later!” Evan yelled over the music, but she didn’t even turn her head.

He groaned, more regret flowing over him when he turned around and was met by his friends laughing at him. He should’ve stayed home and watched Star Wars with Pandora.

“She hates you.” Sirius yelled, half laughter half wheeze.

Regulus shoved his brother’s shoulder. “Don’t be mean, she just dislikes him a lot.”

Evan rolled his eyes, admitting defeat as he joined his friends for the night. That girl would not be coming back. Honestly, maybe Evan didn’t mind. He’s got two left feet, no rhythm and might be a worse conversation maker than a deaf person with a restraining suit on. The fact that he had a burning wound on his chest probably wouldn’t do that any good, let alone make it any better.

At least his friends were fun, and he already knew how to talk to them.

“Punch?” Marlene asked as she came up behind him, putting her hand on his shoulder. He already knew she was behind him before she started talking, before she touched him.

That was one of the reasons Evan Rosier hated parties. Everyone thought he was just more of an introvert, someone who would rather be left alone, but that wasn’t true. Evan liked having people around, he enjoyed hanging out with his friends and playing games. But ever since that fateful day, Evans senses were always hyperactive. It was very useful when he needed them, but a real liability when he didn’t.

He nodded, grabbing the drink from her and immediately taking a few large gulps. Then he crushed the cup, and wiped his mouth.

“Okay, one; that’s littering. Two, that was alcohol.” Marlene said, staring at him with slight confusion.

Evan shrugged, giving her a cheeky smile. “Wanna dance?”

So they did, dance. Or Marlene danced and Evan followed because he had no idea what he was doing. His arms were swaying and after two songs he had already hit and kicked at least five people around him.

At one point, he somehow ended up with another drink in his hand. Mary and Lily had joined in, probably bored with the others standing at the side lines like statues. Evan was never one of those guys; he was awkward sometimes but never the one to back down from public humiliation.

Regulus always said he just didn’t enjoy being the centre of attention, which was not true because the second he made a painting everyone would know. Sirius and Remus were both already dancing with each other, a little too close to possibly be comfortable but at least they seemed in love. Dorcas and Peter were discussing something, most likely about the psychology class they had together which was all they ever talked about with one another.

And Barty- wait…

“Where’s Barty?” Evan asked the girls, stopping his dancing- or whatever he was doing.

Marlene shrugged, too focussed on moving to the rhythm of the song. Lily didn’t even hear, she had her eyes closed and was moving in a completely different way than Marlene. More elegantly, flowy.

Mary pointed at the gym doors, where Barty was standing, security outfit on. Right. Barty was the only one of their friend group who didn’t attend their university. And, since the school didn’t allow plus ones from outside, he couldn’t come.

“Of course he found a way in.” Evan couldn’t help the little smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Barty always found a way. Were it by asking his father -a police captain- very nicely to pull some strings for him, or by simply just working there, like he was doing that night.

Following his father’s footsteps, Barty had started at the police academy the second he turned twenty-one. By that time he had already finished three years off community college where he was taking classes surrounding law and order. Barty didn’t talk about his work a lot, but his friends knew he didn’t enjoy it. In his two years as an officer, he had never- ever, told them something positive about it.

They had all tried to encourage Barty for months to join them at school, to do something that would actually make him happy- but Barty always declined. Telling them he was doing something he was good at, which was most important to him. They all bought it.

Evan always loved to believe he could see through everyone. That he was some kind of psychic socio/psychology major with a wide knowledge of human interaction. But he wasn’t, in the least. Evan was a chemistry major with a wide knowledge of the way different chemical substances worked together. With maybe a dash of autism.

Some girl had taken her turn singing a poorly executed version of Teenage Dream by Katy Perry right before Evan lost his interest in dancing. This was partially thanks to her, but mostly to the fact that the wound on his chest started burning more and more violently. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, but Pandora had told him not to overdo it and Evan definitely couldn’t handle her.

He excused himself to the girls before walking over to the bathroom, trying not to clutch the wound and seem suspicious in any way. Though people could’ve just thought he was having a hard time doing cardio.

Once arrived at the bathroom, his own reflection scared the living hell out of him. He was sweaty, his pupils were way too far dilated and his skin was the exact same shade of white as his hair. He pulled his eyes away from his reflection to look around the room, making sure it was empty before he slipped his blazer off his shoulders to reveal a small crimson spot growing on his white shirt.

“Fuck.” He breathed, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve before he started unbuttoning the shirt.

It didn’t look very healed. No, it might’ve even been worse than the moment he actually got hurt. And that was just looking through the gauze, not even directly at the wound itself. Evan had gotten hurt before but most times he would just rest after. Not dance the entire night while drinking -which he only then realized could’ve thinned his blood just a little bit-.

Evan wasn’t particularly skilled at covering up wounds. He usually had Pandora for that, but she wasn’t there, and he couldn’t bleed all over her car because the seats were white leather. If he drove home and hadn’t died yet, she would kill him.

He lifted his shaky hands up to the gauze and slowly started pulling it, biting his lip as he tried not to scream because fuck, that hurt. The soaked in blood piece of cloth was thrown into the garbage and he took a bunch of paper from the dispenser above the sink, trying not to bleed on anything he couldn’t clean up. That would definitely raise suspicion.

Evan gently patted the paper over the wound, letting his eyes slip shut for a second as he took a deep breath. Trying to recollect himself.

“Well that’s not good.”

His reflexes worked just as fast but his senses seemed to be less heightened now that he was in pain. Evan was up against the wall, holding his blazer against his chest to hide the red on it before he realized who had just walked into the bathroom.

“Shit- what the fuck, Barty!” He yelled, letting his head fall back against the wall. “You could knock?”

Barty raised an eyebrow before he stepped closer to Evan, letting the door fall closer behind him. “This is a public bathroom, Evan.” He noted, he didn’t seem the least bit sorry. “Why do you look like you were chased into a lake, killed and then came back from the dead?”

“Specific.” Evan said, then groaned, the pain was only getting worse. He dropped the blazer to expose the wound, looking from it to Barty. “Do you know how to cover this?”

“I might, but as an officer I would definitely like to know how you got it.” Barty said, already pulling the first aid kit from the wall and searching through it.

Evan nodded, slowly, his brain felt like it was shaking. “Yes, well, I guess I- uh, walked into a kitchen knife.” He said, having a hard time thinking of a lie as he was starting to get both dizzy and tired; maybe because of the blood, maybe because of the alcohol.

“You walked into a kitchen knife?” Barty asked, a tiny bit amused. He pushed Evan into a stall and ordered him to sit down on the closed toilet seat. “As much as that sounds like you, I don’t believe it.”

Evan shrugged. “You don’t have to,” He said, a small smirk playing on his lips. He was quickly put in his place when Barty started dabbing the wound, cleaning it the same way Pandora had only a few hours prior. He cursed under his breath.

Barty was almost done covering it up when he spoke again. “Please just tell me you didn’t try to fight someone you couldn’t handle.” He said, gently pulling the shirt back over the freshly changed gauze. “You’re done.”

“Thanks Barty.” Evan mumbled, getting back on his feet way too fast, only to fall sideways against the stone brick wall.

“Yeah, no problem.” Barty eyed him with a mixture of worry and suspicion. He sighed before walking over to Evan’s blazer on the floor, taking out Pandora’s car keys. “I’ll drive you home.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: What the News Won’t Show

08:48, NYPD district 112

Barty never liked mornings.

Not that Barty liked a lot of things, he disliked most things. But mornings were on top of his hate list.

There were a couple of reasons for this.

One, the fact that he had to wake up and go to his stupid job which he hated. Being a police officer definitely wasn’t his first choice in life. He liked the academy, but that only took him a year to finish and the job itself was just starting to get boring. Especially now that there was a vigilante heroically doing all their work. Heroically. A stupid bored school child dressed up in latex, risking his life to get attention.

Two, mornings meant seeing his father. It was the only time of day Barty would ever actually see his father, and it was always a living hell. The constant nagging, awkward silences and looks of disapproval made him already want to return to his room. Or throw himself off the roof.

“I’m going to be straight with you son.” Barty Crouch Sr. spoke as he turned his eyes to his son in the car. They had just pulled up into the parking lot, after his father had insisted on driving him to the precinct. “I’m disappointed in your results.”

Barty rolled his eyes. His father always knew how to offer the best compliments. “Yes, well, I had plain bread with cheese this morning. What else is new?” He said, tone flat.

The tension in the car hadn’t been any worse than usual but it definitely hadn’t been better. This kind of tension usually meant a big speech or lecture on everything he was doing wrong and should do better at if he wanted to be a good son. Barty didn’t care for being a good son, not to a man who could barely call himself a father at all.

His father parked the car in silence, then fully focussed on Barty.

“You’re getting promoted.” Barty Crouch Sr. spoke, stoical. “To detective.”

That was the exact opposite of what Barty was expecting. The ‘you’re terrible’ speech was usually followed by the all too well known ‘be better’ speech. Not by a promotion. But somehow, this was even worse. Barty was already the captain’s son, he didn’t need his father pulling all kinds of strings to get him promoted as well.

Barty didn’t even like his job, what made his father think he would enjoy being a detective more? The only thing worse than being a pawn in someone else's game is getting promoted to a knight when you never wanted to play at all.

“What?” He asked, his face was already speaking loud enough to make it clear he did not appreciate the news. “I don’t-”

His father put up his finger. A single, pudgy annoyingly silencing finger. “There’s a special case for you.” He explained, though this explanation only raised more questions.

Barty raised his eyebrows. “Don’t you mean I’m a special case?” He asked, sarcastically with a hint of real wonder. “Because that sounds more like the insults you usually throw at me.”

Barty Crouch Sr. bit the inside of his cheek, seemingly about to throw hands. “You ungrateful little shit-”

“There he is, that’s my father.” Barty cheered, only further angering him.

To others, Barty Crouch Sr. was a very intimidating, almost terrifying man. Pure dominance wrapped in the clothes of power itself, decorated with all kinds of medals indicating the kind of leaps he would take to get what he wanted.

To Barty, he was just his father. And Barty hated how much he knew his father. It was like watching a horror movie, realizing you’re standing in the same dark house.

His father, a horrible man, too weak to express his emotions and too stubborn to realize he let the love of his life slip away for the job he was born into. Because just as Barty, his father had been forced into the field by his own old man. And he never enjoyed it, until he got enough power to control everything in other people’s lives he couldn’t control in his own.

Barty knew. He knew so well.

That’s what Barty had always wanted to do with his life, to be someone for the people struggling with the exact kind of problems his father was. He wanted to be there in a way an officer would never be able to, to be there as much mentally as physically.

Sure, a police officer was for the people. To protect them, keep them safe. But who keeps them safe from themselves?

There wasn’t much said before Barty left the car: barely a nod and a quickly mumbled ‘don’t screw up’. Nothing new, except for the fact he now had to walk into the precinct and get stares from all the officers who already hated him, who would hate him just a bit more after finding out about his promotion.

As usual, Barty was clearly the last to find out about it because why would he ever have control over his own life? There was no real reason to, right?

People were whispering immediately when he walked into the office, making his way to the third floor instead of the fourth. The elevator to the third floor opened with a ding that sounded too cheerful for the mood he was in. And there he was—Cornelius Fudge. A man who was basically just his father with a different face shape. The fact his head was bigger didn’t help how much of a waterhead he really was. Barty sometimes wondered if they would make a lizard police captain if it was white and racist enough, but he never dared to ask.

“Crouch!” The captain exclaimed, slapping his flat hand against his shoulder.

Barty didn’t flinch. Instead he put on his best smile and looked at him. “Captain, I heard about my promotion.” He said, as excited as he could get it out. For Barty, that would be a mostly flat tone with a hint of a smile. “It’s awesome, I can’t express how much joy I feel.”

The captain let out a loud, off putting laugh that only the most privileged white man could get out. “You’re welcome, Crouch. I’m just happy we found someone to handle this case. The other detectives are too scared.” He got closer to Barty’s ear, cupping his hand over his mouth. “You’d think New York policemen wouldn’t act like such little girls.”

A case most detectives were too scared to handle? That could not be good.

Barty let out the fakest laugh he could produce. “Yes, I’d sure think so.” He repeated, then pointed at the file in the captain's hands. He was very much ready for the conversation to be over. “Is that-”

“Right!” Fudge yelled out, putting the bundle of papers into Barty’s hands. “Look over it, I’m sure you’re familiar with most of the evidence already. And don’t be afraid to knock on my door, it’s always open.”

The captain walked away, leaving Barty with a whole lot of confusion. He was supposed to know most of the evidence already? Was this some kind of really old unsolved case, just to keep him busy and away from screwing up on the streets. That did seem like something his father would set them up to.

Barty found his desk, already labeled with a small plaque engraved with the words ‘Barty Crouch’. He hated when they didn’t put the junior behind his name, he might as well start acting like his father if people were going to confuse them anyways. He let it go, what else could he do?

After he sat down on the rotating desk chair, he opened the file. His eyes scanned over the first page, freezing when he read the name.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.”

---
17:23, NYPD district 112

“What the hell dad?” Barty yelled as he slammed the car door shut.

His whole day had been filled with getting to know the other detectives a bit better. He already knew them, as far as a uniformed officer would know a detective, but they didn’t exactly know him. Just his name and whose son he was. It was fun for him to hear what everyone thought about his father, really, because he knew they were all lying. No one found him a nice man with a great passion.

It had been fine, his day. Aside from the fact that his father had sold him out for a case that was very much unsolvable.

“Yes, I’m late.” Barty Crouch Jr. said, driving away before Barty had even closed the car door.

Barty raised his eyebrows. “I don’t give a shit about that.” He said with a scoff, “You sold me out. You made them give me that case just for your own good.”

“How dare you Barty.” His father replied, angrily, like he really meant it. “I got you promoted, I gave you a wonderful case. Yes, it will do good to the family name-”

“I knew it!” Barty talked over him, turning to look out the window. “It’s always about the family name, huh?”

His father rolled his eyes, speeding as they drove through the streets of Queens. He never was one to take the law very seriously. If he was pulled over no one would dare to arrest him anyways.

“God, you really are a coward. What are you so afraid of? Some kid in spandex?” He said, though the words came out less like a yell, they hit like a knife. “Pathetic. You’re shaking over a science project in tights.”

Barty bit his lip. As much as he hated his father, he did never manage to bite back when he said these kinds of things. Maybe he really was pathetic.

“I’m not scared.” He replied, less loud but still as angry. “You could’ve discussed it with me, it’s basically a murder case. This guy is unpredictable.”

“I gave you this case because I thought, just maybe, you could prove yourself. Clearly, I was wrong.” Barty Crouch Sr. said, manipulative. “You want to be more than a disappointment? Then do the damn job.”

And even though Barty knew he was being manipulated, he could do nothing about it. Because if there was anything he did not want to be it was a coward. Maybe this case was everything he needed to prove to himself he did like the job.

“Where do I even start? We know nothing about that spider kid.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: A Stabwound is Only Temporary

14:40, somewhere in Queens

Evan did not take the time Pandora had recommended him to rest after his wound. But when has he ever listened to advice from anyone?

Instead, he found himself on top of a building which was quite tall, overlooking the city as he listened to the police radio. This was his favorite thing to do ever, the best use of his freetime. It was always so peaceful -- well, aside from the calls over the radio he occasionally heard. Those weren’t peaceful.

“Possible 10-32, all units report to the south end of Liberty Avenue.”

“Yes sir.” Evan replied to- no one, really. He pulled his mask over his head and bowed to his mental audience before jumping off the building.

“1894, Moore, show me going”The radio went on. Evan enjoyed getting to know the officers' names. Mostly because he liked saying their names to them and freaking them out, and also because he knew all those cops hated his guts.

It had been clear to him for a while that the police were after him. They never got close, he was way faster. Evan liked the cats and mouse game they played. In theory, Evan wasn’t doing anything wrong. Maybe some destruction of property while performing (heroic) deeds, but nothing big like actual criminals did.

“2034, Avery, show me going.”

“Ew” Evan spoke aloud, his voice faint in the wind as he swung from building to building, the busy streets of the city unknowingly below him. Avery was a corrupt cop, he’d figured that out when he saw him sneaking around the streets of queens side by side with a known drug dealer more than once.

Evan arrived at the scene of the crime right when the radio sounded again.

“2752, Crouch, show me going.”

Evan had pasted himself onto a building, holding himself up on the side of it by his hands. He could see Barty speak into his radio, standing next to a cop car, clothed in something different than his usual police uniform. Instead, he was wearing a button up with trousers. The badge which usually stood proudly on his chest hung around his neck on a chord. Evan had run into Barty more often than he’d like to acknowledge. He felt bad for having to lie to his friend, but the extreme kick of adrenaline he got whenever Barty brought up ‘the vigilante’ was something he couldn’t say goodbye to. Not that he was ever planning to tell anyone about his secret identity, that would only put them in danger.

“Officer Crouch.” Evan said in a flirty tone, to no one once again. He talked to himself a lot while he was Spiderman. “Did you get promoted?”

He had to have been promoted. Fancy clothes, badge around the neck, no utility belt; Barty had become a detective.

Evan overlooked the scene. 10-32 meant gun in the streets but there wasn’t one visible. He climbed down the skyscraper he was latched on to and landed neatly on the ground.

At ground level, Evan was vulnerable. He felt that immediately, he always did. In the sky, on buildings, swinging off cranes- that was where he had an advantage. And yes, he could just shoot his web and take off if someone came running to him with a knife. But knives usually weren’t the problem, most stab wounds are only temporary. A bullet was much harder to dodge, even with his heightened reflexes.

But even at ground level, there was still no-one. Not a gun in sight, no knife or treat. Until there was.

Screaming came from a building at the opposite side of the intersection he was standing. Then a loud bang. Evan crossed the intersection faster than most people could think, swinging from the powered off street lights until he reached an ATM. It was blown up, people around it were running in all kinds of directions making it hard for Evan to see what was actually happening.

“Are you alright?” He asked a woman running past him who was coughing violently. She nodded, clearly taken aback by the man in the red and blue suit but not enough to stop running.

Then he got closer, finally arriving at the center of the explosion. The police already had three men at gunpoint, one of them was holding their gun right back up at them.

“Lower your weapon and put your hands in the air!” One of the officers yelled, one Evan didn’t know yet.

The culprit didn’t listen. He kept holding his gun with both hands. His hands were shaking, he was clearly scared. Scared people were unpredictable -something Evan had to figure out the hard way- and capable of anything.

Evan felt like he had to do something, so he did. Even though the police would only come for him if he intervened, he couldn’t stand and do nothing. So, he lifted himself off the ground, shooting one web up to a building and another one towards the man’s weapon.

Perfect timing.

Because the man pulled the trigger only seconds after.

The loud sound of the gun firing overruled all other sounds of the city around them. And for a second, Evan thought he’d been too late. But after that second, he saw the person standing on the receiving end of the weapon. Holding his own gun, breathing rapidly, Barty Crouch Jr. Rattled, but safe.

Evan hadn’t even noticed him moving from his car towards the scene, but he was there. Shielding a frightened looking lady from the possible bullet that could come his way. The bullet that did come his way, just a couple inches higher.

“Jesus Christ.” Someone next to Barty muttered -- a cop, maybe, or a civilian.

The man who had fired the gun dropped to his knees, hands in the air. A mess of sweat, soot and fear. Fear because whatever stopped him was something other than a cop; a fear that Evan saw in every small minded burglar he took care of.

Evan had to leave. Someone would notice him dangling off the building sooner or later. Especially since there were webs around the gun which was now laying long forgotten on the concrete. As said before, the cops were after him. Even if he did just save an officer- a detective, he would still get arrested.

The rest of the officers started rounding in on the man, shouting command and holding their firearms steady in their hands.

Evan shot Barty one last look, expecting to see him maybe scared, shaken, frozen. But he wasn’t. He was very calmly -very pale- looking up at Evan, at Spiderman. Evan’s eyes widened behind the mask. He felt very exposed all of a sudden, like Barty was seeing straight through the suit and actually saw him. This was nonsense, of course.

Then Barty tilted his head, his eyes narrowing due to the sunlight shining into them. Evan nodded. A simple, single nod.

Then he disappeared.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: Aren’t Friends all you Really Need?

21:35, Hallowmere university, James’ dorm

“Barty! Beer?” James beamed, immediately standing up from the couch when Barty stepped into the dorm looking like he’d fought a train. He didn’t need an answer, even if he had said no he would’ve still gotten a beer.

Barty nodded, nonetheless. Then tiredly waved to everyone sitting around the small dorm room. Mary and Marlene nodded in his direction, Peter waved enthusiastically -he was always the worst at reading the vibe- and Sirius mumbled a quick ‘sup’ he didn’t really want the answer to. Barty kicked off his shoes and added them to the pile that had formed in the corner before he threw himself on a chair between Regulus and Remus.

“Tough day?” Regulus asked, sort of timidly.

For back story: Regulus and Barty used to date. It took them nine months to realize that they wouldn’t work out and were better off as friends. It wasn’t particularly awkward between them or anything, but Regulus was never entirely himself when Barty was around. Almost like having once been fully himself around Barty—only for it to fall apart—made it harder to be that way again.

Barty always kept a soft spot for Regulus. He knew him better than anyone, maybe even better than Evan who definitely considered himself Regulus’ best friend.

He shrugged, but the look on his face said enough.

“Anything you want to talk about?” Remus asked, turning to the side and intertwining his hands on his lap.

Remus, psychology major, always digging deeper into people’s feelings.

Barty let out a soft laugh which didn't quite reach his eyes. “Well, I was almost shot today.” He replied. “But that’s nothing new.”

Remus frowned. “That’s not-”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Lupin.” Barty cut him off. He really just wanted to have some drinks, talk about anything other than his own life and forget the fact that he was a cop for a while. No, not a cop, a detective. God, what had he gotten himself into.

He could still see the way Spider-Man had looked at him. Not like a stranger. Not like a hero. Like someone who knew him. Like someone who wanted him to know them back.

He was supposed to catch Spiderman. He was supposed to catch Spider-Man. The same Spider-Man who saved his life today. Because he saw—oh, he saw.. That bullet would’ve hit him if it wasn’t for the stupid vigilante swinging from buildings. And how he had nodded at him and just disappeared? This spider person didn’t save him for a reason, it had just been plain selflessness. And Barty was supposed to catch him and bring him in?

He couldn’t not do it. He couldn’t disappoint his father. More importantly, he couldn’t disappoint his squad. The captain had given him a few people to work with, people eager to take this ‘swinging evil’ down and put justice back into the hands of the people actually wearing badges. Barty had to figure it out. The whole day had been confusing. He’d left work after almost getting shot -captain's orders- only to spend the rest of the day doubting his decisions.

Worst thing? Barty enjoyed being a detective. He loved puzzles, putting evidence together and going after said evidence. He’d figured out the reason he hated being a uniformed officer was the lack of thought. Not much thinking went into holding criminals up at gunpoint and cuffing them. These past few weeks as a detective had given him a whole new perspective on the field. But this meant he actually wanted to keep his job, he really, really, couldn’t screw up.

But during his hours of thinking, he figured something. He was a detective, so all he had to do was detect. He just had to figure out the real identity of this vigilante, and give them an ultimatum: join them or join the criminals in jail.

“You can say you don’t want to talk about it,” Remus said gently, “but your body hasn’t caught up yet. You’re still braced like it’s happening.”

Barty rolled his eyes. “Whatever, I don’t need therapy.”

Remus didn’t argue. He just looked at him for a second too long — not judgmental, just sad. Like he knew better. Like he’d heard it before. Sirius scoffed, he had been eavesdropping on the conversation. The rest of the group was too preoccupied with their own stories, the dorm was filled with voices and laughter.

“And I don’t have severe mommy issues.” Sirius replied, cynically. “Just vibes and a childhood complex. And Regulus-”

“Regulus would like to be excluded from this conversation.” Regulus quickly interrupted before standing up. “I’m getting another drink.” He walked over to the kitchen where he bumped into James bringing a beer back for Barty. Barty threw him a quick smile before taking the beer from his hands.

Sirius and Remus went on to lecture Barty about the importance of therapy, especially when experiencing traumatic situations. Barty stopped listening. He sipped his beer in silence—until his phone buzzed.

Evan
Hi

Evan
Are you coming to campus tonight?

Evan
Can you tell them I’m late

Evan
Bus got cancelled so I’m walking

Barty rolled his eyes—then caught himself smiling. Soft, involuntary.

Barty
I’m there, I’ll tell them

He typed another message. Then he bit his lip, very slightly, his thumb hovering the send button. Then he hit send.

Barty
Don’t get stabbed.

He put his phone away, then turned to the conversation going on beside him. Sirius and Remus had given up on trying to get him into therapy and were now annoying Regulus who just returned from the kitchen.

“-When do we get to meet the mystery man you’ve been dating?” Remus asked him. Everyone’s eyes were on him all of a sudden and the room fell quiet as the laughter died out.

Regulus didn’t like being the centre of attention. Never had, never would. Especially not when it came to his dating life. He was very secretive about it -which Barty knew was because he was his ex and it was kind of weird to talk about it in the friend group- but the guy he had been dating for the past month was next level.

“Yeah, I’d like to meet the guy feeling up my brother.” Sirius added with a wink.

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Disgusting.” He said, shortly, then fell silent again. The room waited in anticipation. “What? I’m not going to say anything.”

Mary groaned. “At least tell us what he looks like.” She whined, “give us a visual.”

Regulus looked around him, nonchalant, then at his watch. “Anyways, where’s Evan?”

“He’s on his way.” Barty replied quickly, then he froze. The whole room had turned to look at him, like he’d just admitted to murder.

“He texted.”

“You?” Regulus asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“Privately?” James added.

“You privately?” Marlene said.

Barty rolled his eyes again. Something he found himself doing quite a lot in this friend group. “Evan is my friend as well, people, get over it.”

In all honesty, the group had a reason to be confused over this exchange. Him and Evan were friends, yes. But Evan was also Regulus’ best friend. And due to something Evan had called ‘the bro code’ their friendship was put on pause when Barty and Regulus had broken up. It had only taken Regulus about a month to get over it and get back into the friend group but Evan held a tight grudge. It wasn’t that he hated Barty. He just… was Evan. A little intense. A little strange. Loyal to a fault.

“Okay, well then.” Dorcas talked over the silence, turning to James. “Who have you been dating?”

Lily’s head perked up from the corner where she had been focussed on her phone. “You’re dating again?”

James threw Dorcas a quick side eye, earning himself an apologetic smile from Dorcas before he spoke up. “I am not but thank you so much for making this uncomfortable, Dorcas.”

James and Lily also dated. Only a few months, then James made ‘a stupid mistake’ which he wouldn’t clarify to the rest of the group. They weren’t even sure if Lily knew, because she never talked about it. One thing was sure: Lily was not over James. It made certain situations very uncomfortable, like talking about dating or playing drinking games in which they had to perform dares.

“You can date other people, James.” Lily said, though the tone behind her voice sounded more disapproving than anything.

Then there came yet another awkward silence over the group, this time one with Marlene very loudly chewing chips. Barty turned to her with a cheeky smile, leaning over Regulus. “Quality cinema?” He whispered.

“I can’t get enough.” She replied, stuffing yet another hand filled with chips into her mouth.

The door opened with a loud bang, disrupting the very entertaining moment of discomfort between James and Lily. A very soaked Evan Rosier stepped into the dorm room. His backpack in his hands, dripping on the wooden floor.

“Good evening party people.” He said, throwing his hood off of his dry hair. Some people nodded, others said hi, Barty just watched. Then he pulled his backpack open, taking out a bottle. “Who here likes vodka?”

“Does anyone, really?” Mary asked, but Sirius was already by his side, grabbing the bottle from his hands. Mary let out a laugh. “I stand corrected.”

Evan dropped his backpack next to the door, kicked off his shoes and threw his jacket over his backpack. The rest of the group had already continued a conversation-- something else than Lily and James, luckily. Evan let himself fall down on Regulus’ lap, dramatically, letting out a deep breath.

“I am so wet.” He said, letting his head hang back over Regulus’ shoulder.

Regulus, clearly reluctant, tried to push him off. “That is a very-” then a leap of effort, but no movement, “weird thing to say-” another groan, pushing Evan roughly in his back, “while you’re on top of me.”

He sighed, accepting defeat and coming to terms with the fact he had become Evan’s chair. Evan let his head fall to the side, turning to Barty who was staring at him and Regulus. “You got something to say, Detective?” He asked, pumping his eyebrows up at him.

Barty let out a soft laugh, this one did reach his eyes. “Why didn’t you just drive here?” He asked, pointing to Evan’s very wet jeans and face.

“Pandora doesn’t let me drink and drive.” Evan replied. “I’m good at it, don’t know why she’s such a drama queen about it.”

“You should really think twice before telling this to a cop, Evan.” Regulus said, smacking the back of his head.

Evan bit his lip, throwing Barty a quick look before mixing in with the rest of the group banter. And Barty? Barty couldn’t grasp why Evan’s smile did more to him today than it did last week.

It was weird.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: The Roof is Higher at Night

00:32, Hallowmere University, Dormitory Rooftop

Barty liked nights. Quiet, calming, and all the time in the world to procrastinate the day coming. The only thing about silence is the fact that it can so easily be disturbed.

“What are you doing here?”

Barty whipped his head around, dropping the cigarette he was holding on the ground quickly. No one knew he smoked, he didn’t like when people knew because he was convinced they would try to get him to stop. He didn’t need everyone’s unnecessary advice about bettering his life. Quit your job, you’re miserable. Or go to therapy. Or even enroll at the university. Yes, fun, he’ll just politely decline. Except Barty isn’t one to be polite about anything, so it would mostly end with a damaged friendship and a guilty feeling.

“You smoke?”

It was Evan, alone, luckily.

“I don’t” Barty countered, putting his shoe over the still smoking cigarette bud. “This was already here when I got here.”

Evan laughed. “I really don’t care, Barty.” He said, walking over to where Barty was standing by the edge of the roof. He leaned over the edge, stretching his back, letting his head rest on his hands. He looked down, “This is very high.”

Barty stood in his place, foot still on the cigarette when Evan had left him staring. He watched as Evan stretched, that weird feeling from earlier that night creeping over him again. Then he shook himself awake, out of thought.

“What are you doing here, Evan?”

Evan shrugged, still looking down the building. “Reg disappeared, Sirius and Remus are making out on the couch.” He said, tracing his finger along the brick wall he was leaning against. “I was either going to join them or get some fresh air.”

“I respect your decision.” Barty said, finally coming over to lean against the wall beside Evan. He stared into the darkness, the city was far from campus but he could still make out some of the lights.

There were a few minutes of silence, then Evan cocked his head at Barty.

“How come you didn’t tell us you got promoted?” He asked.

Barty frowned, turning his head to look at the blonde. “What?”

“You made detective.” Evan said, suggested. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“How do you know that?” Barty asked with a frown, ignoring the question in place.

Evan shrugged. “Saw you, on the street.”

“And you didn’t say hi?” Barty asked, then he turned his face back to the big open space overlooking the smaller buildings around the dormitory. “I didn’t think you guys would care.”

“Of course we could, why wouldn’t we?” Evan asked, genuinely. “Do you have any idea how cool it is to be friends with a detective?”

Barty huffed out a laugh, letting his shoulders drop, untensing. He really thought Evan was going to be a bitch about it. In one of two ways. The first way would’ve been once again telling him to quit his job because ‘he didn’t like it’. The second way would’ve just been plain nagging him ‘ooh mister detective too proud to share his life in detail’.

But he didn’t, and Barty was grateful.

Evan smiled as well, then pushed himself up against the wall, standing straight. “Anyways, I’ll just brag about that to everyone from now on.”

Barty rolled his eyes, that playful smile still hanging on his lips. “Sure you are.”

“No really, it’s like being friends with a sexy Sherlock Holmes, only you’re not, like eighty-”

“Did you just call me sexy?” Barty interrupted him, his face glowing with amusement.

Evan’s face got pale, then he went into full denial mode. “Tssss.” He sissed, but he seemed to have a very hard time looking at Barty. “No.”

“You did.” Barty said, amusement now coming through in his voice. “You so did, this is the best day of my life.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Alright then detective,” He said, toning him down a bit. “Don’t go writing a song about it or anything.”

“Maybe I will? And I’ll call it ‘the guy who hates me secretly wants me’.”

“That would be a terrible title.”

“Maybe, but I would speak my truth.”

“I know some poets ask ‘is it better to speak or to die’, but in your case dying really does sound like the better end.”

“Hey.” Barty complained. “If you don’t watch it I’ll arrest you for assaulting a police officer. Or tell Regulus you think I’m sexy and then he’ll just assault you.”

Evan gasped. “You wouldn’t!” He exclaimed. “I’ll never call you hot again!”

“Oh so now I’m hot and sexy?” Barty was very much enjoying himself. He knew Evan was drunk, but that didn’t take away the extreme pleasure his drunken stumbling over words gave him.

“I’m going home.” Evan said, actually walking away. “While it’s still dry.”

As if it was planned, as if the universe wanted to torture him till he cried, the sky lit with a bright flash and rain started to fall. All in the span of a few mere seconds.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

---

01:10, Crouch residence

Evan
Thanks for driving me home, again

Evan
I won’t tell anyone about the smoking

Evan
Which you clearly weren’t doing…

Barty was brushing his teeth when Evan texted. He smiled, subconsciously.

After it started raining at a hurricane level of terror, he’d offered to drive Evan home. Second time in three weeks he had to do it, but he didn’t mind. Evan was… different than Barty thought. They had been a friend group for years but he never really got close to anyone in the group. Well, except Regulus of course. But that was an entirely different story.

Barty
Don’t worry about it

Barty
The driving home I mean, not the smoking

Barty
If you tell anyone, I will arrest you

Barty put his phone away as he got ready for bed, thinking about what Evan had said to him earlier on the roof. ‘Of course we would care’. People cared about him, or well- someone did at least. Even though Evan was very good at hiding his care in sarcastic comments and flirty remarks.

His phone buzzed again.

Evan
I know you’re serious, but that’s honestly so hot

Barty rolled his eyes, smirking, then quickly typed a reply.

Barty
I thought you took that back?

Evan
I decided to own it

Evan
I’m still a bit hazy

Evan
And wet

Evan
Not because of you

Evan
You know, rain

Barty
Go to sleep, Evan.

Evan
I’m not home

Barty’s eyebrows furrowed together as his eyes scanned over the message a few more times. Not home? He literally just brought him home, where would he even go?

Barty
That’s… concerning?

Evan
We’re really not that familiar with each other, huh?

Barty
You mean this is normal?

Evan
Gtg

Barty stared at that last message for a good few seconds before he started thinking. Was Evan outside at night that often? What did he do when he was outside at night?

Was that how he got stabbed?

And where was he going all of a sudden to end their conversation abruptly. Evan wasn’t one to be short with people, especially over text. He knew that, because he once heard him say he hated when other people were short. It made him feel like he did something wrong or some crap.

Barty tried not to care, to not give it a second though as he threw his phone aside and closed his eyes. But he did care, because Evan -apparently- was his friend who he cared for. It took him a full five minutes to stop stirring and grab his phone again.

He hesitated for a second as his pointer finger wandered over the contact, eventually he sighed and clicked.

Barty
Are you awake?

Barty
Do you know where Evan goes at night?

He didn’t really expect him to reply, Regulus after slept in early. He’d left the party at the same time as Potter, around eleven, after everyone called him a grandma for having a bedtime.

Regulus
Idk, out.

Now Regulus, he was always short over text.

Barty
Does that not worry you?

Regulus
He’s always been just fine.

Barty
Until he isn’t

Regulus
Why do you care about Evan all of a sudden?

Barty
I don’t, just seems dangerous to be out in Queens at this time of night

Regulus
And yet when I told you I worried every time you had the night shift, I was being dramatic?

Barty rolled his eyes again, not playful this time, already regretting the fact he chose to text Regulus. But no one else would’ve known, his options were very limited.

Barty
Yes, well, I carry a gun. Evan carries the ability to piss off everyone he runs into.

Regulus
Look, Barty, I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you but if it’s anything short of a marriage, I advise you to stay out of his business.

Regulus
And who said Evan doesn’t carry a gun?

Barty
I did, if Evan carried a gun he would already have shot himself by accident

Regulus
I see your point

Regulus
Just don’t worry about him, yes? And go to sleep.

Barty
Yeah, okay, goodnight.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: Are you Flirting, Detective?

15:30, Somewhere in Queens

Evan had been out as Spiderman all day.

The day had been fine, just breaking up some minor fights and one single grocery store robbing. The police radio had been quiet. There always seemed to be less crime and violence on sunny, warm days. The city was like a movie theatre. This did mean Evan usually had to do major missions in very bad weather. But he was used to that by now.

He had been hanging out on a random building’s fire escape, reading some of his school stuff while in his suit, in case the radio sounded.

The radio didn’t, but he did hear a familiar voice a few feet down.

It wasn’t one of his friends, or someone who knew him. It was an officer, Avery. One of Evan’s least favorite.

“I mean, I get that he’s his son but can we all just agree he’s not up for it?” Avery spoke to what Evan could only assume was another officer. He couldn’t see them, only hear them talking below him.

The other officer was quiet for a few seconds, then cleared his throat. “I don’t know man, he’s pretty smart.”

“What, Crouch?” Avery let out a loud, obnoxious laugh. “He’s as dense as they come. We were partners at the academy, I know he’s only with us because his father forced him to.”

Evan frowned, slowly putting his school stuff back in his backpack. He left it there, then slowly let himself fall down one more ladder of the fire escape. He had to hear this, he could use it as something to annoy Barty with- or support him in, whatever. He could now very clearly see Avery’s retreating hairline and the other officer’s bald head.

“Well, there’s a reason they made him detective right?” The other officer spoke, more clearly now that Evan was closer. “For that Spider guy case?”

What

“Yes, and that’s exactly why I think I should be on it.” Avery replied. “I mean, I’ve been in contact with that guy more than anyone in the force; Crouch has caught more than a glimpse of him.”

The other cop huffed. “Alright then, but you’re gonna let him do it, right? Boss won’t like it if you work a detective’s case for him.”

Then Evan got a call. His ringtone was quite loud. Why did he never turn it off?

Both officers looked up at the source of the sound, up at him. The unknown officer just looked confused, but Avery. Oh, Avery was ready to actually shoot him.

“Spiderman! Come down here, you’re under arrest!” He yelled, gun pointed and voice steady.

Evan rolled his eyes underneath his mask. “I don’t know guys, I would really rather let detective Crouch arrest me.” He said, yelled, more. He was still quite high up on that fire escape..

That clearly set Avery off. He was either confused or furious, because his face got red. Evan assumed furious. “Dead or alive, Spiderman!”

“Actually, I’m like seventy percent sure you need me alive.” Evan yelled back, showing his head as he hung it over the ledge of the fire escape.

“Wanna take that chance?!”

The other officer finally got back into it. He grabbed the radio on his shoulder, speaking into it. “Spiderman sighted south of 43rd avenue.”

Now that would be more of a problem. One officer, especially Avery, was far away from his limit. But that call out would definitely get at least twenty cops to their location. That was like, fifteen more than Evan could handle on his own.

“Anyways, it’s been a lovely talk again, Avery.” Evan said as he started getting up on his feet. “I have to go though, but tell your mother I said hi!”

And with that, he shot out a web and got the hell out of there.

---

15:40, NYPD district 112

Barty had been getting bored with his case.

There were no recent sightings of Spiderman, no new leads, nothing. Until a uniformed officer called about a sighting.

He had just been packing up to go home. His day had started at six and he would very much have liked to drive to campus, crash on someone’s nasty old couch and drink a shitton of alcohol. It was the weekend, after all, Friday afternoon after a very full week of nothing but research and paperwork because that was the only thing the captain trusted him with yet.
But he couldn’t ignore the first sighting in weeks. He had to get there as fast as he could.

So, he took his gun and hung his badge around his neck before he quickly made his way over to a cop car. He drove dast, sirens blaring through the streets, it wasn’t that far away luckily.

Spiderman wasn’t there anymore, but Avery was. Damn did Barty hate Avery.

“Which way did he go, Avery?” Barty asked, out of breath as he had just ran from the car to the centre of the crowd of officers surrounding the place.

Avery put on a big, fake smile. “Ah, Crouch! The man on the mission!” He said, “He’s gone, you won’t find him. Once he-”

“Which. Way. Avery.” Barty said, almost threateningly.

“North.” Avery responded, shortly, defeated.

Barty quickly ran north. Alone, no backup, no car. It wasn’t long at all before he caught a glimpse of the red and blue suit swinging from building to building. He was sure Spiderman wouldn’t even notice him following without the sound of blaring police sirens. I mean, what cop would come for him on foot?

He could see the figure finally settling on a rooftop about five minutes of running later. Barty didn’t stop running, he ran into the building attached to said rooftop. He took the stairwell-- bad choice. His lungs burned -he hadn’t run like this since the academy- but he didnt care. He needed this.

The rooftop door was heavy and rusted, but he slammed it open with the force of adrenaline and frustration. It clanged against the outer wall, echoing out into the city sky.

“Spiderman!” He shouted, stepping onto the rooftop, the sun sharp in his eyes. “Hands in the air, don’t move!”

The figure in red froze, his muscles clearly stiffening underneath the red and blue suit. Slowly, he raised his hands, fingers splayed, exaggeratedly compliant. Then he turned.

Barty kept his weapon steady, though his hand was already starting to shake from the sprint. He hated that. Hated the way the edge of exhaustion made him feel like a rookie again. Hated even more that Spiderman looked utterly calm.

“You’re faster than Avery,” Spiderman said, voice muffled slightly behind the mask. “I respect that.”

“I said don’t move.” Barty snapped. He stepped forwards, carefully circling to keep the sun behind him. “This is serious, Spiderman. You’ve got a warrant the size of Manhattan on you.”

“Yeah?” Spiderman tilted his head, hands still raised. “But you came alone. What if I just… I don’t know, jumped off?”

“You won’t.”

There was a pause. There was something in the air. Not fear, not recognition either… but something. Something electric, not measurable but clearly there. Tension, the kind that made your breath catch in your throat.

Spiderman broke it with a half-shrug. “Guess not.”

Barty didn’t lower the gun, but he let himself breathe again. He really needed that breath, he did just run up twelve flights of stairs.

“What do you even want?” Spiderman asked, conversational now. He clearly had a problem with authority because he crossed his arms, once again fighting against Barty’s ‘don’t move’ request. “If you catch me, what will you do?”

“Question you.” Barty answered, honestly. “Then train you to become an officer.”

Spiderman was visibly startled by that answer. He scoffed. “What?”

“You’d be an excellent addition to the NYPD.” Barty said. He finally lowered his gun. “You’d just have to stop… vandalising stuff. And instead of webs, we have guns.”

“I’ll never join the police.” Spiderman said, a hint of humor in his voice. “What makes you think I’m interested in that?”

Barty shrugged. “I know you want to help people.” He said. “You’re not a bad guy, you’re just lost.”

Spiderman shook his head with a soft, sarcastic laugh. “Sure, alright.” He replied, taking a step backwards, closer to the edge. “It’s been lovely, detective Crouch.”

“How-”

“Gotta go!”

And this time he did jump off.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: Cornered by the Enemy (Isn’t That Hot?)

21:35, Hallowmere university, Sirius and Regulus’ dorm

“Alright, my turn!” Evan exclaimed excitedly as he adjusted his position on the bed. He leaned over the edge, barely getting to the bottle but eventually getting it to spin.

It landed on Regulus.

“Okay Reg, sabotage.” Evan said with a cheeky wink.

Regulus took a card. “Pick someone in this room and make them answer a question of your choosing. No dodging, no lying.” Regulus smirked, looking right back at Evan. “Alright then, I'll pick Evan.”

Evan pouted. “That’s not fair.”

“I think it’s very fair.” Sirius argued, “you shouldn’t act so cocky.”

They were playing a game they’d designed themselves. It was a mixture of spin the bottle, truth or dare and never have I ever. The game went like this:

Take turns spinning the bottle
Whoever it lands on has to take a card, the person who spun the bottle gets to decide which card
There were three categories of cards: Spill, sin and sabotage.
Every card has either a question, a dare or a ‘sabotage’ which basically meant screwing over someone else.

This game had been the go to drinking game for the past few months. Though they were generally comfortable enough with each other, they just answered and did everything the cards said instead of drinking.

But it was fun.

Mostly.

“Alright, Evan.” Regulus started, sitting up straight. “Since you’re so cheerful toning- answer this honestly: who in this room would you hook up with and why?”

A few gasps and groans sounded through the room as all eyes turned to Evan.

“Oh we’re doing that tonight?” Dorcas asked.

Evan grinned, tipsy but calculating. “Define hook up.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Don’t be coy.”

Evan paused, his eyes wandering around the room. His gaze lingered on Barty just a second too long. No one noticed.

“I’ll have to go with…” Evan narrowed his eyes, finally landing on the blonde sitting next to him. He bit his lip. “Marlene.”

Marlene winked at him.

“Explain yourself.” Barty said, intrigued in a way he’d usually never be.

Evan looked at Barty, the look on his face was trying and flirty. “Well, I think Marlene would ruin my life in the best way possible.” He said, then he looked back at Marlene.

“Oh I definitely would.” She said with a smile, “We’d be so hot together.”

“Oh-” Evan raised his eyebrows. “Well I don’t have anything to do after this-”

“Stop trying to sleep with lesbians, Rosier.” Remus interrupted Evan’s proposal, then he quickly turned to Regulus. “Spin the bottle, please.”

Regulus spun the bottle quickly. It landed on Barty. Regulus blushed- that didn’t go unnoticed but no one said anything.

“Sabotage.” Regulus said.

“Boring!” Sirius complained.

Barty took a sabotage card anyway, reading it. “Whisper a secret to the last person of the group you texted with.”

“Juicy.” Mary commented, leaning back in anticipation.

Barty opened his phone to look at his most recent conversations. Of course Evan had texted him right before he arrived.

Evan
We’re in the Blacks brothers’ dorm this time, right?

Evan
I’m late

Evan
Surprise!

Barty’s eyes flicked to Evan. He put his phone away, getting up from his seat and leaning over the bed to get to Evan. The group let out some teasing, low sounds of surprise.

Evan’s face went red at all that attention- or maybe because Barty was suddenly very close to his face.

Barty smiled as he thought of the ‘secret’ he would tell to Evan. He cupped his hand against his face, leaning closer, his breath warm against Evan’s ear. .

“You bite your lip when you lie.”

Barty leaned back. Evan didn’t react… except that he did- everyone could see the way his knuckles tightened on the bedspread. But no one said anything, no one knew what Barty had said.

Before anyone could even process what had happened, Barty had already spun the bottle, ready for the next turn. It landed on James.

“Spill, Potter.”

James took a spill card, reading it out loud. “What’s something you’ve done that would disappoint someone in this room if they found… out- yeah, not answering this. Give me a shot.”

Remus threw him a liquor bottle. “Sirius doesn’t have glasses, just take a big sip.”

“How does Sirius not have glasses?” James asked, very glad that the focus was not on the question he was dodging. He was also very actively avoiding Lily’s gaze.

“I threw them at the pigeons on the roof a few weeks ago, haven’t gotten my salary yet so just deal with it.”

“Why?” Evan asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

Sirius held up his hands in defense. “They were loud!”

“Oh well in that case, next time you and Remus have sex I’ll just throw my microwave at you.” Dorcas said, somehow threateningly.

James took his shot in silence, letting Dorcas and Sirius argue while he spun the bottle. It landed on Mary.

“Alright Mary, sin.”

“Finally.” Mary said, taking a card off the sin pile, reading it in her head.

“Oh no.” She groaned, fanning herself dramatically. “Nooo, I’m not doing this sober.”

Marlene frowned. “I mean, you’ve had plenty to drink.”

“I have to kiss someone in this room that I probably shouldn’t want to kiss.” Mary countered, looking at Marlene.

“I stand corrected, there is not enough liquor in the world.”

Sirius tilted his head. “I assume this means you’ve already got someone in mind?”

“I’m sorry Sirius but every gay woman has a thing for tall lanky boys who look like they never come out of their rooms.” Mary told him, Marlene nodded, backing up her statement.

Peter let out a laugh. “Sirius isn’t tall, what are you apologizing for?”

“The fact that his brother is.”

Regulus stilled in his place, only his eyes drifting to the girls who were both watching him from a few feet away.

“What do you say, Reggie?”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Don’t call me that.” He said, then he sighed. “Whatever, just get it over with.”

Mary raised her eyebrows. “Wow, you’re gay.”

“Yes, and the earth revolves around the sun.” Regulus snarked, not annoyed but also clearly not enjoying himself. He sat up straighter. “Just kiss me.”

“As you wish, Prince of Brooding.”

Mary leaned forward, one hand on the floor and one hand on Regulus’ knee for balance. The kiss wasn’t long, it wasn’t showy- but it landed. It was sweet, with a kind of deliberate slowness that said: I’m not joking. Regulus didn’t move for one moment. He kept perfectly still, not pulling, not pushing- definitely not kissing back. He just let it happen.

Then she pulled back. And for the shortest second, Regulus blinked like he might’ve short circuited

Sirius let out a low whistle. “Shit, I think that’s the most human thing you’ve done in a week.”

A pillow was immediately thrown across the room, hitting Sirius square in the face. Regulus smiled, satisfied. James kept looking at Regulus.

“I take it all back.” Sirius said, muffled. “He’s still a cryptid.”

Laughter rippled through the room. Mary flopped back onto the bed, satisfied. “I’m good for a few rounds now. Someone else suffer.”

Regulus ran a hand through his hair like he could erase what just happened. His ears were red. He didn’t say anything.

Evan glanced at Barty.

Barty was already looking at him.

They both looked away.

“Evan!” Mary exclaimed, very quickly grasping his attention. “It’s time for you to sin baby.”

Evan, kind of distracted, took a card. He cleared his throat. “Let the spinner pick someone you play seven minutes in heaven with. No complaints.”

Mary gasped excitedly. “Oh my god yes! I made this one up.”

“This is honestly the best thing we’ve ever invented.” Sirius added, leaning against Remus.

Evan raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Alright, Mary, who’s the lucky person?”

“I mean, there’s only one right answer, don’t you think?” Lily initiated, looking between Evan and Mary. Both of them seemed confused. “Barty? They’ve been eye fucking each other all night.”

Evan’s cheeks tinted. Had he really been looking at Barty that much? To be honest, he was very distracted by the fast that Barty as detective Crouch had almost revealed his identity. Additionally, he didn’t expect Barty to want to recruit Spiderman to the NYPD.

And Barty kept looking at him like he knew something.

“Alright, Barty then. You guys go do whatever you need in James’ dorm-”

“Why mine?!” James complained.

“Because it’s right across the hall.” Mary said. “Don’t be a prude. You can always wash your sheets.”

Evan rolled his eyes, pushing himself up and off the bed in a fluent movement. He didn’t even look back at Barty as he walked towards the door, only turning to see if he was following him when they were already out.

The group whistled, some of them laughed, and they continued the game without them.

Barty was, indeed, behind him. Following shut, closely walking behind him all the way until the door to James’ dorm was shut.

There was a short silence. No one spoke, neither moved.

Then Evan scratched the back of his neck. “I- uhm… I don’t know what seven minutes in heaven is.” He admitted with an awkward smile.

“Me neither.” Barty said, an equal smile playing on his lips. “But judging by their reactions, it’s something sexual.”

“Couldn’t we just not do it then?” Evan asked, tilting his head. “It’s not like they’re watching us.”

“I guess.” Barty shrugged. He walked over to James’ bed, plopping down on it. “We can just hang out for seven minutes.”

“That’s the longest we’ve ever hung out.” Evan laughed, throwing himself on the bed next to Barty.

Barty cocked his head. “Is it?” He asked, watching Evan, observing him. “I’m pretty sure the longest hang out was that time I patched up your stab wound and drove you home.”

Evan let out a nervous laugh. “Huh, I guess you're right.”

“How did it heal?” Barty followed up, looking at the spot on Evan’s chest he knew the stab wound was placed.

Evan felt as if Barty was seeing right through his shirt, it made him feel way too seen.

“Fine, I think.” He said. “Not sure how stab wounds are supposed to heal.”

Barty bit his lip, letting a short silence fall before he asked:

“Why won’t you tell me what happened?”

Evan stiffened, visibly. He bit his lip. “Because nothing happened.”

“You’re biting your lip.”

Evan mentally hit himself in the face, why did he have a tell and how did Barty always notice everything.

“Maybe we should just have sex?” He suggested, leading him in a completely different direction. He didn’t really want to- nor would he actually really mind now that he thought of it…

Barty raised his eyebrows, both intrigued and surprised. “I’m not saying no to that.” He said, turning a bit more towards Evan on the bed.

Evan’s breath caught in his throat. He didn’t expect Barty to actually agree. “Really?”

“Sure.” Barty said, a cheeky smile on his lips. “As soon as you tell me where you got those.”

He pointed at Evan’s rolled up sleeves, at his exposed arms

He’d noticed the bruises the second Evan had walked into the room that night. The minute he took off his jacket. They weren’t that noticeable, but Barty had an eye for injuries. He was a detective after all.

Barty’s eyes flicked to Evan’s movements, the way he winced slightly when he shifted his weight uncomfortably, the subtle guarding of his arms as he pulled his sleeves down just a bit.

His gaze caught the dark, fading bruises mottled across Evan’s forearms;

Barty’s brows furrowed. “Evan…”

Evan looked up quickly, forcing a casual smile. “What?”

“Are you… okay?” Barty asked carefully, voice low but firm. “You’re hurting. That doesn’t look like nothing.”

Evan’s eyes flicked away, tightening at the corners. “It’s nothing. Just… rough days.”

Barty wasn’t convinced. He stepped a little closer, voice sharper now. “You’re not telling me everything.”

Evan stiffened but stayed silent.

Barty’s gaze lingered, a mix of suspicion and something deeper flickering in his eyes. “I’m going to find out. Sooner or later.”

“Stop trying to.” Evan said, looking back into Barty’s eyes. “I promise you, I’m not doing anything illegal.”

Barty shook his head. “I don’t care about that.” He said, almost annoyed that Evan would think that. “I care that you’re my friend and you’re clearly in pain.”

Evan bit his lip again, this time not to lie. “I’m just-”

Then the door to the dorm opened, quickly and roughly. James walked in, damage control.

“Oh good! You’ve still got your clothes on!”

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: Are we Into Each Other?

02:32, somewhere in Queens

Evan
I’m sorry Panda

Evan
But can you pick me up?

Evan
I think I broke my leg

Evan
Or something at least

…

…

Evan
Fuck you’re asleep aren’t you?

…

…

Evan was sitting in an alley, hidden away in the dark, stranded. He had no idea how it had happened; one minute he was swinging from the roofs, the next he was getting beaten up, totally taken by surprise.

He hadn’t even started his ‘shift’ as friendly neighbourhood Spiderman yet. He’d just been looking for a nice roof to take residence on for the night.

The blonde never had a neck for letting his injuries heal. Even with his unusually fast healing, he still didn’t allow himself a day off. Crime didn’t take a day off, why would he? But all the injuries of the past few days combined made him weak. Otherwise, he would never have gotten beat up this easily.

Evan recognized the guys beating him. They were robbers, who he had once brought over to the police. How were they even on the loose? How did they even find him?

He couldn’t move. When he tried to, every fibre of his body screamed in agony. Someone had to get him. He’d tried calling Pandora many times but she wasn’t picking up, and she was the only one who knew.

It was fine.

He would be fine.

He just had to tough it out.

But then it started to rain.

“Screw this.”

Evan
Are you awake?

Evan
I know you don’t have a car but can you please pretty please come pick me up?

No response.

This was fine. He was fine. Bleeding, exhausted, in agony- but fine.

Evan
You’re asleep.

He shut his eyes. Just for a second.

Buzz.

He jolted, fumbling the phone.

Regulus
Where are you?

Regulus
Are you alright?

Evan
Oh fuck thank you I’m

Evan
Not sure

Evan
I’ll send my location

He dropped the pin and sank back with a shaky exhale of relief.

Evan let his head fall back against the bricks, let his phone slip onto the concrete below him. Someone was coming, he’d explain himself; why he was in the suit. Just playing dress up- no one would believe that, but Evan just really, really needed medical attention.

His phone buzzed again, Evan tried to grab it but it slipped through the slippery spandex around his fingers. He could see the message though.

Regulus
Barty is on night shift, he’ll be there in a couple minutes.

“No no no.” Evan groaned, grabbing his already entirely wet hair and pulling it in frustration. “Shit.”

Barty could not see him as Spiderman. Fuck, he had to get dressed. But he was in so much pain. But he had to. He couldn’t have Barty finding out about him, that would ruin everything. He would get arrested, their friendship would be ruined.

So, with all the effort in the world, he reached for his backpack. Luckily he still had it with him, since he hadn’t even actually started his night as Spiderman.

Evan gritted his teeth so hard he thought his jaw might snap. His fingers were shaking, wet from the rain- and something dark, probably blood. He yanked open his backpack with a hiss of pain.

A hoodie and sweatpants. He always kept those in his bag, you never know when you’re in a situation like this one. Where you’re dying somewhere in a nasty alley behind a dumpster and the cop friend who’s actually hunting you down has to come get you.

You know, everyday situations you better be prepared for.

He couldn’t take off his suit, that would just hurt twice as much and probably cause some lasting injuries around whatever he had broken. He pulled the hoodie over the top half of his suit, the easy part as the only injuries up there were some minor bruises he really didn’t feel anymore.

But his leg wouldn’t bend, and he had to get those sweats on. Somehow he managed to reach his feet and drag them over his slightly inhuman positioned leg. He bit down a whimper when the cuff caught on his swollen ankle.

Then headlights sweapt across the alley.

Evan stuffed his mask in his backpack as quickly as he could, zipping it closed and hugging it closely. No way Barty was looking in there with his snooping detective nose.

The engine shut off, the door slammed.

“Evan?”

Evan’s breath hitched, but he quickly collected himself when he saw the shadowed outline of Barty walking into the alley.

He set up the most casual smirk he could pull off, looking up at Barty with tired eyes. “Hey.”

Barty strode forward, eyes wide, immediately dropping down to eye level. “What the fuck Evan, Regulus said you just had to be picked up- what happened?”

Evan shrugged, then immediately regretted it because a stinging pain shot up his back and made him flinch. “Fell.”

“Fell from what? The goddamn moon?” Barty took his phone out of his pocket, pointing his flashlight at Evan. He let his free hand hover over Evan’s leg- clearly broken, obviously painful as hell. “Jesus, you look awful.”

“Well I feel fantastic.” Evan said, his voice was hoarse and broken. “I didn’t think you’d be the one to show.”

“Lucky you.” Barty muttered. “Can you stand?”

Evan huffed, immediately trying to pull himself upright. He physically couldn’t. Not just because of the pain, because his body wouldn’t let him.

“Nope.”

“Great. Fantastic.” Barty said, already carefully slinging Evan’s arm over his shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

As Barty half-carried him to the car, Evan tried to keep his breath steady. His head was throbbing, he was freezing and his leg screamed.

Barty opened the passenger door to the police car, gently dropping Evan in the seat and slamming the door shut.

“What the fuck happened, Evan?” Barty demanded as he started the engine.

“Some guys.” Evan’s voice was quiet, he looked out of the window, away from Barty. “Nothing illegal, doesn’t matter.”

“Shit Evan, I don’t care if you’re doing anything illegal. How many times do I have to say I’m worried about you?”

Evan sighed. “Please just, drive.”

“You’re going to tell me what happened after I patch you up.” Barty said. “That’s an order from a police officer, I will abuse my power if I need to.”

---

03:10, Crouch residence

Barty’s father was out of town for a police conference, which meant their house was empty. Luckily, because Barty Crouch Sr. was even more of a pain in the ass when it came to questioning. He would’ve definitely wanted to know how the soaked boy entering his home got injured this badly.

Evan wanted to go home, to Pandora’s flat. He wanted to suffer alone and in peace, wait a few hours- maybe a day until his bone would set. Barty would get suspicious if he checked him out, saw a broken bone and then saw him walk barely a day later.

“You don’t have to nurse me or anything, I probably just sprained my ankle.” Evan said as he hung onto Barty for dear life, getting dragged into his home.

Barty let out a laugh. “Yes, and I assume those red stains are from…?”

“Pizza sauce?”

Barty dropped him on the couch, carefully, hovering over him with both arms on the bench seat on either side of Evan’s face.

“You don’t eat pizza.” He stated.

Evan frowned, then tilted his head. “How do you know?”

“I listen.”

Barty pushed himself up and walked out of the living room, probably to get things to patch Evan up with.

Evan found his mind wandering to an entirely different place- because why did Barty getting close to him affect his heartbeat so much? This wasn’t in a ‘damn I hope he doesn’t find out I’m Spiderman’ type of way. This was something else, something exciting.

“Take off your hoodie first.” Barty ordered, not even looking at Evan as he walked back into the living room with a first aid kit.

“Damn, not even dinner first.” Evan replied, already pulling on the hem of his shirt when he realized.

Shit

Shit

The suit.

“Actually, where’s your bathroom? I really need to take a piss first.”

Barty’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re bleeding, is that really a priority?”

“I will piss on your couch.” Evan said, trying to look serious and not too panicked.

Barty nodded, slowly, then bent down to pick Evan up off the couch.

“Wait, my backpack!” Evan stopped him from walking any further.

“What do you need that for?”

Evan fell quiet, he had no more excuses left. He was too exhausted.

“Whatever,” Barty rolled his eyes, picking up the backpack with his free hand and supporting Evan with his other. “You’re so weird.”

“You know it.” Evan laughed, awkwardly. He tried not to flinch too much as they made their way to the bathroom. He really had to downplay how much pain he was in, so that it wouldn’t come as a shock when he looked basically completely fine during their next group sitting.

Barty left him to do his thing in the bathroom, telling him he’d wait out by the door.

Evan moved as quick as he could, pulling off his clothes first, then the soaked suit beneath them and putting it in his backpack.

When he was done, he flushed the toilet and yelled for Barty to come back in. He helped him back to the couch, plopping him down on it once again and finally getting to work.

“Okay, now can you take off your hoodie?”

Evan nodded, quickly, pulling the hoodie over his head.

Barty stared for a second too long. Evan suspected this was because of the bruises and scars on his chest, but when he looked at his eyes he felt a smirk form on his lips.

“Like what you’re looking at?” He asked, cheekily.

Barty wasn’t even going to deny he was staring. “I’m definitely not complaining.”

He got to work quickly. There weren’t any major injuries on his upper body. The bruises were old and couldn’t really be treated, only a few small cuts and scrapes along his arms. Barty put some saline solution on them, cleaning them up and covering up what was needed with bandaids- those were enough.

Evan kept staring from Barty to the wall and back to Barty. He didn’t want to stare at him, but getting patched up in the gentle way Barty was doing it made him feel- safe? Maybe something else? He felt like he had to look, like he couldn’t take his eyes off.

“This did heal very nicely.” Barty whispered to himself as he brushed his thumb over the scar the stab wound from a month ago left.

Evan’s breath hitched when Barty’s fingers lingered on his chest, just above the fading scar. Neither of them moved, and the air between them changed. Into something dense, warm, electric. Barty’s fingers paused, the pads of them barely brushing against Evan’s skin but it was enough to make his heart flutter.

Then they locked eyes.

Barty’s eyes were dark, full of something Evan didn’t understand and fully resonated with at the same time. They were fixed on Evan’s face as if he was trying to find a way to stop himself from doing anything. To stop himself from making a mistake.

But he was already losing. The wipe in his hand dropped to the floor without a sound, forgotten and no longer important.

Evan didn’t mean to lean forward.

He didn’t mean to hold his breath or look at Barty's lips or feel his pulse in his throat. But he did, and Barty did the same.

Their faces were inches apart, breaths brushing. Everything else, the blood, the pain, the rainwater still drying on Evan’s skin- it all faded into something distant and unimportant.

“Evan…” Barty’s voice sounded low, as if he was telling a secret he didn’t want to let out.

And Evan answered it with the slightest head tilt. His eyes fluttered closed, just for a second, just enough to imagine it.

Then Barty pulled back.

And so did Evan.

At the same time, like they’d both been slapped with the same wave of reality. A cold smack in the face.

Evan sat up straighter. His blood was boiling, the pounding of his head had worsened and everything led back to the nagging pain in his leg. He stared at the floor. He shouldn’t have done that- they couldn’t do that.

Barty was Regulus’ ex. Regulus was Evan’s best friend, that would just be weird and unfair to Regulus. Oh and of course, Barty didn’t know that Evan was really the vigilante he had been set to find and arrest. Kill, if necessary, he was sure of that. But let’s stick to the bro-code story.

Barty shifted back too, dragging his hand over his mouth, suddenly very interested in the first aid kit. His shoulders were visibly stiff.

“I should- uh.” He grabbed a piece of gauze, just to hold something really. “Your leg. We still need to wrap up your leg.”

“Right.” Evan rasped. “Yeah, leg.”

Neither of them looked at each other for a long moment, but everytime Barty looked away Evan was looking. And it was just the same the other way around.

If they kissed- really kissed- there was no coming down. They’d have to talk about it, face the fact that something was clearly going on between them.

But they couldn’t.

Good thing they didn’t.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: Commitment is Such a Big Word

07:34, Crouch Residence

“Wake up sleepy, I made breakfast.”

Someone was banging on Barty’s door. He wasn’t sure who got into his house this early in the morning or why-

Wait.

Right, Evan. Evan Rosier who he had patched up after he had been badly wounded by… something, someone, whatever. Barty had decided even before he picked Evan up that the truth wasn’t worth his energy.

That’s what he tried to tell himself.

But Barty didn’t let things go, he held onto them. Barty held grudges, secrets, suspicions. And Evan was a walking secret, a suspicious secret.

“Are you awake?” Evan spoke again, still in front of his door.

Barty took a deep breath in. “Yes, I’ll be there in a minute.”

It wasn’t that Barty didn’t trust Evan, or that he didn’t believe him- well, he didn’t believe him but that was mostly because Evans' lies were so stupid. Barty just hated that Evan would immediately talk over him whenever he tried to get it. He wanted Evan to understand that he’d only be there for him if he told him what was happening.

Even if it were something illegal, he would never arrest Evan.

He blamed himself for being too curious, for wanting to know everything. For being a police officer, clearly unable to be trusted.

He really wanted to kiss Evan during the moment they had the night before. But he couldn’t. Not without knowing first.

By the time Barty opened the door, Evan had stopped knocking and was leaning against the frame, arms crossed, holding a chipped mug of tea he clearly made himself. He wore one of Barty’s hoodies -uninvited, of course- sleeves swallowed over his fingers.

He looked like he belonged there, in his hoodie. Barty hated that.

“You made breakfast?” Barty asked.

Evan nodded and stepped back. “Don’t worry, I didn’t try anything culinary. Just toast with peanut butter and jelly… and maybe eggs- you didn’t hear the fire alarm, right?”

Barty raised his eyebrows, completely ignoring the question. “You’re in my hoodie.”

“You left it on the couch.” Evan said, feigning innocence. “I thought it was an invitation.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re late for your very mediocre toast.”

They ended up in the kitchen together, standing awkwardly close. Barty reached past Evan for a plate, and Evan didn’t move. Just stood there, waiting for something to crack.

His eyes flicked down -briefly- to Evan’s legs. Barefoot. Lightly bruised. No bandages.
Walking like nothing had happened.

Which was interesting, considering last night Evan could barely stand without shaking. His right leg had been swollen and tender to the touch. Possibly fractured. Definitely not “up and about” material.

But here he was. Fully mobile. No limp. Not even a wince.

“...How’s your leg?” Barty asked, casual on the surface, but not really.

Evan blinked. “Fine. A bit sore.”

Barty didn’t respond. Just stared.

“I-” Evan glanced down at himself. “Guess it wasn’t as bad as we thought?”

Barty raised one eyebrow. “Mm.”

He said nothing else, but his brain absolutely didn’t drop it. The math wasn’t mathing. And Evan was lying. Again.

“You didn’t have to do this.” Barty said as he buttered the most tragic toast he had ever seen.

Evan didn’t look up from his plate. “I wanted to.”

“Why?”

“Because you let me in.”

“No, why are you still here?”

That’s when Evan did look up. “What?”

Barty scoffed. “Come on Evan, did you really think I wouldn’t ask about last night again?” He asked, shaking his head as he stuffed a piece of toast into his mouth. “If you’d just left I wouldn’t have had the chance to ask, but now I have to.”

Evan shrugged, pressing his lips into a thin line. “I guess I figured it would be awkward if I just left.”

“Why?” Barty asked, then tilted his head, watching Evan’s slightly flushed face. “Because we almost kissed?”

Evan scrunched his nose, looking down at the toast on his plate. “This really is bad.”

Barty’s jaw tightened. “You always do this. You deflect, you dodge. Everytime i ask, you say something half true and clever enough to make me let it go.”

The light sharpened in Evan’s eyes as he narrowed them in Barty’s direction. “You really want to know the truth?”

“Yes,” Barty said. “I want to know what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into. I want to know why you show up bloody and broken and never explain it. I want to know why I keep watching you leave and praying you come back alive, and then hating myself because I let you leave in the first place.”

Evan bit his lip. “I didn’t ask you to care.”

“You’re biting your lip.”

Evan groaned.

Barty put down his plate in the sink, turning to hover over Evan, pinning him against the counter with his hands on either side.

“I’m going to ask you one more time.” He said, dangerously close. “Tell me why you keep disappearing. Why you come back with injuries you won’t explain. Why you won’t trust me.”

Evan felt small like that, caught like a mouse in a trap. He didn’t want to look at Barty, he couldn’t.

“I can’t.” He whispered, softer, vulnerable. “Not yet.”

Barty flinched -barely- but enough to notice.

“Right.” He said, straightening up, leaning back.

“Barty-”

“No.” Barty stopped him, stopped his fake excuse. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, Barty. Nothing is fine!” Evan said, scrambling up after Barty. “I want to tell you, fuck I so want to tell you. But I can’t because you won’t want me if I do.”

Barty stilled, stopped in his tracks, stopped breathing altogether.

“If I tell you, you won’t ever talk to me again.”

“Jesus Evan, why would you think that?” Barty asked, he’d regained his ability to breathe.

“Because I know it’s true.”

Barty raked his hand through his hair in frustration, then let his gaze fall back onto Evan’s face. He looked scared, desperate, he really meant what he said. Barty just couldn’t understand why he’d think that.

He sighed, then took a step closer, chest to chest with Evan- almost.

“Look, if this is about me wanting you- whatever that means, you’re safe.” He said, sweeter, no cutting edge to his tone. “I’ve been wanting you since you called me a sexy Sherlock Holmes last month.”

Evan scoffed. “I didn’t call you that.”

“You did, I wrote it down to remember.”

“I was probably drunk.”

“Aren’t drunken words twice as true?”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Well.” He said, looking down at his bare feet. “Why did you pull away then, yesterday?”

“Because I can’t commit to someone who only tells me lies.”

Evan didn’t speak at first. He just looked at Barty, really looked at him. At the tightness in his jaw, the way his hands were still clenched like he hadn’t decided whether to hold Evan or push him away.

Then, quietly:

“Okay,” Evan said. “You’re right. You deserve more than this, more than half-truths and smoke and mirrors.”

Barty didn’t say anything. He just watched him, eyes narrowed, waiting for the ‘but.’

Evan swallowed hard. “But I’m scared. Not because I don’t trust you, but because I do.”

Silence.

Then Evan stepped forward, just enough to close the space between them, almost touching. “I’m not asking for forever,” he murmured. “I’m just asking… can we see where this goes? Even if you don’t have all the answers yet. Even if it’s messy.”

Barty’s breath hitched.

“And I swear,” Evan added, softer now, “the secrets… they’ll come out. All of them. Just not yet.” It wasn’t a perfect promise. But it was honest.

Barty studied him, eyes flicking between Evan’s, searching for a crack in the mask. But there wasn’t one. Just fear and hope and the smallest flicker of something like love.

Finally, Barty exhaled. “Okay,” he said. “But if you lie to me again-”

“I won’t,” Evan said, too quickly.

“-I will arrest you,” Barty finished, a ghost of a smirk pulling at his lips.

Evan huffed out a breathy laugh. “God, that’s hot.”

They didn’t kiss. Not yet. But something shifted- something real.

And maybe, for now, that was enough.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10: You’re Such a Good Ally

20:30, Pandora’s flat

Evan got home soaked and shivering, still limping from the night before. After he left Barty’s house -where he had definitely not kissed him- he went for another day on the job as friendly neighbourhood Spiderman. Bad idea, considering the state of his leg. But also good, otherwise that old lady would’ve never been able to cross the street. Though it ended up the other way around, she almost had to carry Evan.

To Evan’s displease, the second he came home he ran into a very angry looking and very worried Pandora. He knew she would be angry, she did tell him to take a couple of days off after he got badly hurt a few days before. But Evan wasn’t a man who could sit still-- that might be something he could work on.

“I told you no, Evan. Yet you still go. Am I not clear? Do I speak a different language?”

Evan rolled his eyes. “You’re not my mom.”

He walked out of the room into the kitchen, like a toddler walking away from a punishment.

“No, but I am your sister and the person who pays your rent.” Pandora fired as she walked after him.

She pulled his arm back, making him turn to face her.

“Why are you limping?”

Evan swallowed harshly. “Sex.”

“Evan.” Pandora said, sternly, tilting her head.

Evan groaned, letting his head fall back in defeat. “Fine! I broke my leg.” He said, “you know, you would’ve known if you had been awake last night.”

“Were those deleted messages about that?! You said it was about food!”

“And you believed me.” Evan nodded, crossing his arms. “So, really, who’s to blame.”

Pandora’s look changed to disbelief. “You?”

Evan bit his lip. “Shit, maybe you’re right.”

Pandora mirrored him, crossing her arms as well. “This isn’t a joke Evan.” She said, serious. There was a glinster of worry in her eye. She was always worried, but not often to a degree where it made her lecture Evan on his behaviour.

“I know.” Evan said. He looked at his feet. “I’m sorry, I’ll be in my room.”

“What? No, I want to talk about it.” Pandora frowned.

Evan was already slipping past her, going for his room. “I don’t.”

His sister followed him. “Evan, I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately but I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine.” Evan said, throwing himself on his desk chair. He smiled at his sister. “Fantastic, even.”

Pandora pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. She looked at her brother for a few seconds, thinking.

“There’s a girl, isn’t there?”

Evan raised his eyebrows, his smile turned into a grin and then into a full blown laugh. A loud laugh, one that was forced out by emotion and made it so you have to hold your stomach in pain. The one that would leave you abs aching for days after.

Pandora looked at him, deadpan, confused. She didn’t say anything. Just stared and waited for the crazy to calm down.

“What?” She asked, finally, kind of annoyed.

Evan wiped a single tear from his eyes, the aftermath of his laughing fit still sounding through his breathing.

“I’m so fucking gay, Dora.” He said, looking her straight in the eyes-- or well.

Pandora’s mouth fell open, then closed. Then she looked like she wanted to say something, then again not.

“Is that what’s going on with you?”

Evan frowned. “What? No, I’ve been gay for years.” He said, then tilted his head. She was serious. “Did you really not know?”

“You never told me!” Pandora yelled, exasperated.

“I didn’t think I had to!” Evan defended himself. “I wear eyeliner, there’s multiple mesh tops in my closet, my ears are pierced and we went to pride last year!”

“As ally’s!”

“As homosexuals!”

They stared at each other for a few seconds, silent.

Then Pandora spoke again: “Is this why you’re so emotionally attached to Timotheé Chalamet?”

“Oh, no, that’s just because…” Evan trailed off, discovering something about himself. “You know what? Yes, probably.”

Pandora blinked slowly. “Okay. So… you’re gay. You’re reckless. You’re possibly in love with someone. And you’re clearly not coping well with anything.” She paused. “Should I make tea or call a therapist?”

“Can we do both?” Evan sighed, dropping his head into his hands.

Pandora softened just a little. “Seriously though… is that it? The secrecy? The drama? Is it a boy?”

Evan didn’t answer at first. His fingers tugged at the edge of his sleeves: something to do, something to ground him. “It’s... complicated.”

“Oh my God, it is a boy.”

“Don’t—”

“And he’s probably stupidly hot and emotionally unavailable and definitely not good for you.”

“I said don’t!” Evan whined, though he didn’t deny it. He spun slowly in his chair, eyes on the ceiling like maybe the answers lived up there.

Pandora leaned against the wall, arms still folded. “Do I know him?”

Evan bit his lip. “No.”

“Oh my God, I do know him!”

Evan groaned. “Does everybody know my tell?!”

Pandora shrugged, walking over to and sitting down on Evan’s bed, leaning down on hand. “You’re easy to read.” She admitted, then smiled. “So, what’s the plan?”

“There’s no plan.” Evan said, still looking at the ceiling. “We’re just… seeing where it goes.”

“Does he know?”

Evan looked at Pandora. “What?”

“That you’re…”

“Oh, no!” Evan said, quickly, shaking his head. “He can’t, ever.”

Pandora nodded, slowly. “That’ll be very complicated.”

Evan sighed, defeated, tired.

“Yes, I’m aware.”

---

Evan sat there a while after Pandora left. Thinking, mostly about his sister just finding out he was gay. But also about the fact that he was absolutely starting to fall for the guy who had to catch him.

It wasn’t the plan. It wasn’t supposed to happen. The only reason they started becoming friends in the first place was that stupid stab wound. Not a very good foundation to a healthy friendship, getting stabbed and lying about it-- let alone an actual relationship, how would that even work?

He told Barty they’d see where it would go. Why did he do that? It couldn’t go anywhere-- let’s be honest, how long would Evan be able to keep his mouth shut before he accidentally told the sole person he shouldn’t tell that he’s spiderman. And Barty was a detective, he’d find out so quickly, so many signs.

But when Barty stood that close to him, trapped him against the kitchen counter, Evan didn’t let himself think. There was something about Barty he’d never noticed before, something that made his heart flutter and make him shit two thousand colors at the same time. It made him anxious in a good way, but also in a bad way. It was new, exciting.

He was already in bed by the time his phone buzzed. Or well, he’d thrown himself off the chair and onto his bed.

Barty
Are you alive?

Barty
You’re not outside right?

Barty
It’s storming, Evan.

Evan rolled his eyes with a small smile. He liked that Barty thought of him at this time a day-- or any time a day.

He quickly typed a reply.

Evan
I’m in bed, don’t worry

Barty
So no weird stuff tonight then, no broken legs? Or does that start after midnight?

Evan sighed. Always the cop, always the detective.

Evan
Depends if I’m able to sleep

That was true. He usually only went out late at night when he couldn't sleep or when he got a really strong sense he was needed. He often got that sense, but was most frequently just his mind playing with him.

Barty
Okay

Barty
Be safe

Evan groaned. Why did he have to be so nice about it.

Evan
I won’t go out tonight.

Evan
Pandora put me on house arrest.

Evan
She found out I’m gay today, btw

There were a brief few seconds in which Evan could only assume Barty was laughing his ass off in his own room, where there were no typing dots in the corner.

Then they reappeared.

Then they disappeared again.

Then Barty called him.

Shit, Barty facetimed him.

Evan never changed out of his suit.

Should he pick up? He couldn’t not pick up, that’d raise suspicion. He had to pick up now. Pick the damn phone up. Pick up.

So, Evan answered, then threw his phone so the camera was facing the ceiling.

“Evan?” Barty’s voice sounded through the distorted speakers of his phone. They’d gotten wet one too many times.

He pulled off the suit out of frame, so quick it might as well have been made entirely out of hot smoldering lava. He didn’t care he was in only his underwear when he finally turned the phone to himself.

“Sup.” Evan said with a nod.

Barty raised his eyebrows, amused. “Were you taking off your clothes?” He asked. “Not exactly why I called but I’m not complaining.”

Evan coughed, choked on air. “No! No-”

“I’m joking, Evan.” Barty laughed. He leaned back onto his pillow, one arm behind his head and the other holding his phone. “So, want to talk about your sister’s awful gaydar?”

Evan turned to lay on his side.

“Right?! I could probably tattoo a rainbow and she’d still be thinking ‘oh wow, such a good ally’.”

Barty laughed again.

They talked for a long time that night. Mostly about random stuff, school, their friends, Barty’s job. Barty didn’t push again, he didn’t ask Evan to spill his secrets. It was nice.

Barty fell asleep on the phone. Evan found himself staring. Fondly, confused,

Terrified.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11: You’re Spiderman

A few weeks passed, Evan and Barty called each other every night they didn’t see each other in person. They didn’t meet up one on one, in group settings they acted normal. But on the phone? That was theirs, that was them.

Evan didn’t know what happened, or why he couldn’t think of anything other than Barty Crouch for the past few weeks. He didn’t like it, he wasn’t sure what it was, he never had feelings for someone before. It sucked, but then it also didn’t because he fell asleep smiling every night.

But the also their situation was just fucked up. How could Evan ever act on these feelings?

Evan had just gotten back from a rooftop after a failed day as neighborhood Spiderman. Failed in the sense that there was literally no crime to fight. He was about to get changed out of his suit when he got interrupted by someone who was definitely not supposed to be there.

“Hey, I need to-“

Evan flinched, eyes wide, snapping his neck around to meet the person standing in his doorpost: Regulus.

“What the hell man don’t you ever knock?!” Evan yelled.

Regulus’ mouth fell wide open, like jaw to the floor agape, too stunned to speak. He watched Evan just stand there in his suit, his mask tossed away somewhere on his bed.

Evan groaned, banging his head back against the wall a few times. “Oh, fucking shit, why are you here right now?”

Regulus stayed silent for a beat, but then his jaw regained its original place. “James and I are having sex.” He answered, his eyes still wide. “You’re spiderman.”

“You’re having sex with James?! When, why?”

“You’re Spiderman.”

Evan’s eyebrows raised. “Whatever? The fuck you mean you’re having sex with James?”

“Evan, you’re Spiderman.”

There was a pause, then Evan spoke:

“Alright but what do we discuss first? because I physically can not think about anything else until you tell me everything.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “You’ve got terrible ADHD then.”

“Or I’m invested in my friend’s life?” Evan replied, acting hurt by the obvious statement.

Regulus shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “No, terrible ADHD.” He decided. He walked over to Evan’s bed, making himself comfortable with his back against the wall. “It started three months ago.”

Evan’s eyes widened. “So you’re the big mistake he made?” He immediately puzzled the timeline together. “Does Lily know? Are you in love? Since when is he into men? Is he good in-”

“That’s enough.” Regulus interrupted the questioning. “Yes, yes, he’s bi and absofuckinglutely.”

Evan frowned, his face retracting in disgust. “Ew.”

“You asked.”

Evan groaned, flopping face-first onto the bed beside Regulus. “I cannot believe this is my life. My best friend’s sleeping with James Potter, and I’m-” He rolled over and gestured vaguely to the red and blue suit still clinging to his body. “-in cosplay.”

“You’re in trauma,” Regulus corrected flatly. “That’s what this is.”

Evan huffed. “Thanks, Doc.”

They were quiet for a moment. The air in the room still had the aftertaste of shock and secrets, but something about their chaotic exchange had cracked it open -- like a window during a storm. Enough to let it breathe.

Regulus glanced sideways. “So. How long have you been Spiderman?”

Evan made a noise halfway between a sigh and a laugh. “Long enough that I don’t know how to not be anymore.”

“That’s terrifying.”

“Yeah,” Evan said. “Tell me about it.”

Regulus was quiet again. Then: “Does anyone else know?”

“Pandora,” Evan said. “She found out months ago. Almost killed me. In the yelling way, not the physical way. Though, honestly, both felt possible.”

Regulus nodded slowly. “Only her?”

Evan sighed. “It appears being Spiderman means having a lot of people after you.” He said, kind of sad when he thought of it. “Mostly police, but also bad guys who I beat up or snitched on.”

“Is this why you texted me for help a few weeks ago at night?” Regulus asked, then came a horrible realisation. “Oh my god and I asked Barty to pick you up. That’s so stupid, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, you couldn’t have known.” Evan responded, turning on his side. “He’s very suspicious about it though.”

Regulus frowned. “Why would he care? Don’t you guys not like each other?”

Evan bit his lip, then shrugged. “Don’t know. Cop thing maybe.”

“It always is with him.” Regulus agreed.

Evan wasn’t sure why he didn’t just tell Regulus him and Barty almost kissed. He kind of didn’t want to make it a big thing before it actually was a thing. Which, let’s be honest, could never even happen. The cop and the vigilante he’s chasing. Sounds like a juicy story, but definitely not one with a happy ending. Tragic.

“Am I not getting any credit for the way I reacted calmly to this by the way?” Regulus asked after a short silence sat between them.

“I actually think this was the most reaction you’ve had to anything ever.” Evan replied. “In Regulus terms, this was close to imploding.”

“Shut up.”

“There he is.”

---

So, Evan had forgotten that he’d invited everyone over (on Pandora’s request, of course, she always liked it when people came over to her place). It was the reason Regulus was there in the first place. Lucky it was Regulus who had walked in then, and not someone he’d trust less with his secret. He couldn’t imagine someone like Peter to be a very good secret keeper.

“Gun to your head, sleep with professor Slughorn or get kicked in the head by Barty?” Marlene asked.

You’d think there was a conversation leading up to this question, right? There wasn’t. It was just Marlene asking unhinged things at any given point of the day.

Sirius scoffed. “Have you ever seen him throw a punch?” He asked, looking from Barty to Marlene in disbelief. “Slughorn would be a one time thing, Crouch would leave permanent brain damage.”

“Oh c’mon, I refuse to believe he can fight that hard.” James argued with a frown, taking a sip from his drink. “I’d take the hit.”

Barty smirked. “Alright Potter, right now?” He asked, slyly.

James let out a nervous laugh, not certain if Barty was kidding. “What about you, Reg?” He asked, quickly changing the subject.

“Reg?” Sirius asked, amused at his best friend calling his brother by his nickname. “Wow.”

Regulus blushed, unnoticed by most, but Sirius squinted his eyes and swore he saw the slight tint of his cheeks. He didn’t say anything about it.

“Gun to my head?” Regulus asked, turning to Marlene who nodded. “Easy: pull the trigger.”

“That’s not-”

“Who here likes vodka!” Pandora yelled excitedly as she walked into the room holding a tray covered with shot glasses.

Remus huffed out a laugh. “What’s it with you Rosiers and vodka?”

“It’s low in calories and high in alcohol.” Evan said, taking a shot from the tray. “What else does one have to ask for?”

Pandora rolled her eyes as she took the last shot off the tray and put it away before taking a seat on the carpet between Evan and Barty. “Because it’s cheap, Evan.”

“Right, that too.” Evan agreed.

They started playing a drinking game. Same as always, spill, sin, sabotage, Evan was having a hard time not staring at Barty. Barty was having a hard time taking his eyes off Evan. No one noticed, but at one point Pandora did throw Evan a look that could very well have meant ‘I’m onto you’. But, Evan could also just have been drunk and delusional.

“Evans! Pick a card.” Mary said, throwing her turn over to Lily after she spun the bottle. “Hmmm… spill.”

Lily took a card from the pile.

“Who in this room would you trust least with a secret and what secret would you not want them to know?” She read, then frowned. “These are two questions!”

“Answer or drink, Lily.” Sirius referred back to the rules. “Both questions.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Well then, I’d trust you least Black.” She fired right back at him.

Sirius gasped. “How dare you!”

She ignored him, looking to Pandora. “And for that second question: I’d love a nice shot of tequila for a change.”

“No fun.” Barty rolled his eyes.

Sitting in a corner next to Sirius; Regulus and James both untensed their shoulders.

Lily spun the bottle, it landed on Evan. “Alright Evan, sin.”

“Oooooh.” Sounded through the room.

Evan smirked, picking up a card.

“Chage shirts with the person you think is hottest in the room.” He read, his smirk would've faltered if the alcohol hadn’t made him hazy yet.

And Barty was already looking at him.

Evan scraped his throat, pretending to consider when he already knew whose shirt he’d be wearing in a few minutes.

“Alright Crouch, get naked.”

“Oh my god?” Marlene’s eyes widened. The rest of the group started mumbling with one another.

Barty smiled. “Won’t need to tell me twice.”

---

Barty
I have a question

Evan smiled as he took his phone from his nightstand.

Evan
Hit me

Barty
Are you going to school tomorrow?

Evan frowned at his phone.

Evan
I need to get that degree somehow

Evan
So, yes.

Barty
I’ll pick you up after

Evan
Excuse me?

Barty
We’re going on a date

What? What? WHAT?

Barty Crouch Jr did not just ask him, Evan Rosier, out on a date. Well, he indeed didn’t ask. More like he threw it at him like a baseball hitting world record speeds.

Evan
What?

Barty
Bye~

Oh, damn you Barty Crouch.