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Early was not the word Matt Murdock would use to describe Spider-Man. In the handful of months they’d known each other, Spider-Man, on the spectrum of timeliness, generally fell between “barely on time” and “ten minutes late… five minutes ago.”
Matt tried not to hold that against him. He, more than most, understood what it was like to be pulled in many different directions at once. With lives like theirs, sometimes getting from point A to point B was an impossible task.
However, it was a nice surprise when Matt sensed Spider-Man sitting on the edge of the rooftop as he swung down to set up himself. The two had been tracking a drug ring around Hell’s Kitchen for a while now, and had been spending the last few nights on a rooftop staking out a potential drop point. So far, Spider-Man had been late to every single one of these meetings, except for tonight’s.
It was progress.
Collapsing the grapple back into his billy club, Matt walked over to where the wall-crawler was sitting.
“You’re here early,” Matt said.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” Spider-Man replied, “I just figured I’d get here early tonight.”
As Matt crouched beside him, he noticed a sound he hadn’t picked up on when he first arrived.
From inside Spider-Man’s mask, music played through tinny speakers that emitted a crackle of feedback and electricity, along with an all-too-familiar guitar and trumpet melody.
Matt smiled at the recognition. The kid had good taste.
“ ‘In the Aeroplane Over the Sea’, huh?” Matt said as he crouched beside his vigilante partner.
He could hear Spider-Man blink in surprise though his mask. “You can hear that?”
“I can hear heartbeats, web-head,” Matt said with a laugh, “Yes, I can hear your music.”
“Oh, I guess I should’ve guessed that,” Spider-Man said, somewhat bashfully, before blurting out, “Wait, you know Neutral Milk Hotel?”
Matt opened his mouth to respond, but a sound from across the street caught his attention.
He twitched his head in focus. Two people were approaching the warehouse across the street
“People coming,” he muttered.
Spider-Man nodded, jumping up into a crouch alongside Matt. “I see them.”
Matt tuned his senses towards the two figures. One man, one woman. They smelled slightly of booze and greasy food, and were arguing over directions. Matt gestured for Spider-Man to let his guard down. They weren’t the ones they were looking for, just a couple heading home after a night at the bar.
After the couple had walked away, Matt turned toward Spider-Man. “That wasn’t who we were looking for, but you should shut off the music so you’re more focused. If you miss something because you’re distracted, that’s on you,” he said sternly.
Spider-Man nodded in understanding. The rustling of fabric told Matt that he had removed an earbud from underneath his mask. “Sorry, man,” Spider-Man said, pocketing the device. “I got here really early and had that song stuck in my head all night.”
Matt cracked a small smile at the statement. He could certainly relate to that.
“It’s a good song.”
“Right?” Spider-Man said excitedly.
Slightly too excitedly. Matt held up a finger as a reminder to keep quiet, though he wasn’t really angry. Spider-Man could be a lot, but Matt was always impressed with the kid’s passion and energy. It made him popular, someone New York could really relate to and resonate with. A hero they could rally behind and cheer for. It was refreshing.
“I’m partial to ‘Two-Headed Boy’, myself,” Matt admitted.
Spider-Man bobbed his head in acknowledgement, “Fair, fair. That one’s good too.” He paused for a moment, “I still can’t believe you like this kind of stuff!”
“Why not?” Matt inquired.
“Because, you know, you’re all…” Spider-Man stopped, searching for the best word, “broody, I guess.”
“Broody?”
Spider-Man shrugged, “You dress like the Devil and perch on rooftops at night, I don’t know?”
Matt chuckled inwardly at the description. He wasn’t necessarily wrong. “So being… broody means I can’t listen to music?”
Spider-Man shrugged again.
“In case you were wondering, I actually listen to a lot of music.”
“Really?” Spider-Man said, his voice piqued with interest. Matt hadn’t told the kid much about himself, and didn’t know much about the wall-crawler himself, other than that he was a teenager and he lived in Queens. So far, their relationship had mostly consisted of rooftop stakeout sessions and the occasional shakedown/webbing up.
Matt liked Spider-Man, but they weren’t exactly at the level of sharing one’s most closely guarded secrets. Spider-Man must’ve liked hearing something about Matt that didn’t involve vigilante justice. Matt decided to trust him just a little more, continuing, “I have a pretty big vinyl collection too.”
“No way!” Spider-Man exclaimed, this time keeping his voice down, “That’s so sick, man! Physical media is so cool, but I only have the money for CDs. What kind of music do you listen to?”
Matt thought about it, before answering, “A bit of everything. Though I’m partial to the nineties.”
“Which is a correct opinion, by the way.”
“Ha, thanks,” Matt replied.
“So what’s your favorite band? Or musician… I guess,” Spider-Man asked eagerly. For a second, Matt regretted divulging the previous information. With every piece of knowledge gained, Spider-Man seemed to get more and more excited to ask about Matt’s personal life. Though part of him worried that answering the question would make Spider-Man pry even further, the genuine curiosity in his tone was almost impossible to ignore.
He was about to answer the question when another voice from across the street caught his attention. Matt twitched his head to listen in, and though it was still nothing, it did remind him why he was there in the first place. And it wasn’t to talk about music.
“Not now kid, time to focus up,” Matt said, much to Spider-Man’s chagrin, judging by the sound of his heartbeat slowing slightly and the whoosh of air indicating an unenthusastic nod.
Spider-Man and Daredevil sat on the rooftop for another hour. Minus the presence of a few people stumbling home from the bar and a couple of alley cats hunting for meals, the stakeout was uneventful. That could mean one of two things: the intel Matt got was wrong, or they’d scared the dealers enough to stop operating out of the area. Matt hoped it was the second one. Though his fists had been itching to hit something all night, he ultimately didn’t mind the peace the night had brought him. Spider-Man had proved a good partner; he was always observant and even managed to stay relatively quiet. Eventually, however, the partnership had to come to an end.
“Oh, it’s almost two,” Spider-Man spoke up, breaking the silence the two had fallen into. “I should get going.”
“Really?” Matt said. He hadn’t realized the time had gone by so fast. It was about time he should be heading back to his place too. “Well, thanks for coming tonight.”
“Are you kidding! No problem! Hey, the more we crack down on these guys, the less crime in your neighborhood and mine. And I don’t want to jinx it but… it seems like we’re doing a pretty good job.”
Spider-Man’s enthusiasm made Matt crack a small smile. “Same time tomorrow?”
“See you then!”
Matt wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it was the energy that radiated off of Spider-Man, or maybe it was the eagerness in which he approached his work, but Matt decided he owed the wall-crawler an answer to a question he’d asked a while ago.
“Hey, kid,” he called out, as Spider-Man stood up to leave, “I’ve always liked Radiohead.”
“Huh,” Spider-Man replied. “You are really broody.”
Matt let out a huff of laughter, “Yeah, maybe I am.”
“You definitely are,” were Spider-Man’s last words as he leaped off the side of the roof, attaching a web to the neighboring building and starting his swing back to Queens. Between the thwips and the gusts of air, Matt could just make out the first few notes of “No Surprises.”
The kid did have good taste.