1 Month Later
Morning sunlight spills over Gotham City, turning steel and glass gold for just a moment and then the bank explodes.
Glass bursts outward in a roar of smoke and flame as the front doors blow off their hinges. Alarms scream. People scatter. Four masked thugs come sprinting out, bags of cash slung over their shoulders.
They make it maybe ten steps.
"HEY, GOTHAM!" a voice calls from above.
A red-and-blue blur drops from the sky.
Spider-Man slams into the pavement between them, cracks webbing outward in every direction, and grins beneath his mask.
"Friendly neighborhood reminder," he says cheerfully. "Banks are for depositing money."
The thugs panic but they are too late.
Spider-Man moves like lightning with one web yanks a gun away, another trips two men at once, a third wraps a getaway bag so tight it bursts open, cash fluttering everywhere.
One thug turns to run and Spider-Man flips over him, sticking him upside-down to a streetlight.
Five seconds and that's all it takes.
Police sirens grow closer as Spider-Man perches on a lamppost, hands on his hips.
The crowd that had frozen in fear now stares in awe.
Then someone claps then another cheers.
A kid yells, "IT'S SPIDER-MAN!"
The chant starts small.
"SPIDER-MAN!"
"SPIDER-MAN!"
Spider-Man blinks, clearly surprised.
He scratches the back of his head. "Wow. Uh. Hi. You're welcome?"
Cameras flash and people smile
Spider-Man fires a web, gives a little wave, and swings away as the crowd cheers louder than the sirens.
Gotham Academy
Alex walks through the front doors, backpack slung over one shoulder, expression carefully neutral.
He almost relaxes.
Almost.
Then something slams into the side of his head.
Alex stumbles, grabbing his temple. "OW what the?!"
A football bounces away across the hallway and laughter follows and Alex turns slowly.
Flash Thompson stands there with two of his friends, arms crossed, smirk fully loaded.
"Oops," Flash says, fake innocent. "Slipped."
Alex narrows his eyes. "Funny. It flew pretty straight for an accident."
Flash shrugs. "Guess the ball just doesn't like you."
Alex opens his mouth and then he sees her.
Cass stands a few lockers down, watching.
Flash notices too and his jaw tightens.
"Maybe," Flash adds, louder now, "if you weren't constantly hanging around people who don't wanna talk to you, you'd notice when stuff's coming."
Cass doesn't react and she never does and that's what makes Flash mad.
Alex exhales slowly. Don't escalate. Be normal. Normal people don't punch bullies.
He bends down, picks up the football, and tosses it back and it lands at Flash's feet.
"Careful," Alex says calmly. "You almost hurt someone."
Flash scoffs. "Yeah? Like you could stop anything."
Alex smiles politely.
Cass steps forward and she doesn't look at Flash but she does signs instead.
Ignore him.
Alex glances at her hands and nods immediately. "Yep. Ignoring. Actively."
Cass turns away without another glance.
Flash stares after her, face burning.
"…Whatever," he mutters.
Alex follows Cass down the hall.
The moment they're out of sight, Alex exhales. "Wow. He's like if insecurity took protein supplements."
Cass huffs.
They walk side by side toward science class.
Alex launches straight into talking.
"So I was thinking about yesterday's assignment, right? The chemical bonding lab? If we adjust the temperature curve just slightly, the reaction rate actually stabilizes instead of spiking..."
Cass nods.
Alex doesn't notice.
"And then I realized the data's wrong because the sensor calibration is off, which means the whole conclusion is garbage, which honestly explains the textbook because….."
Cass nods again.
She's not listening because she is watching him.
The way his hands move when he talks. The way his eyes light up when he's excited. The way he leans just a little closer to her without realizing it.
Alex keeps going.
"...and that's why I think we can totally finish the project early if..."
Cass reaches out and gently taps his arm.
Alex stops. "Oh. Too much?"
Cass shakes her head, smiling.
She signs slowly.
I like when you talk.
Alex freezes and his ears turn red.
"Oh," he says quietly. "Uh. Cool. I mean great. Awesome. I can… keep going?"
Cass nods immediately.
Alex grins, confidence returning. "Okay so anyway entropy...."
They disappear into the classroom together.
Down the hall, Flash watches from a distance, jaw clenched.
Elsewhere
The basement hums but not with electricity but with pressure.
Concrete walls sweat with dampness, pipes rattling softly overhead like bones knocking together. A single bulb swings from the ceiling, its light flickering as if it's nervous about being here.
A man in a yellow hoodie sits at a workbench.
Tools are laid out with obsessive precision. Bolts. Wires. Capacitors scavenged from places that definitely don't miss them. Two heavy gauntlets rest in the center of the table, metal plates layered thick, seams etched with vibration channels.
The man wipes grease off his hands and exhales slowly.
"Okay," he mutters. "Moment of truth."
He lifts the first gauntlet and it's heavier than it looks.
He slides his arm in, clamps locking with a thunk. The second follows, sealing around his forearm. The metal hums softly, like something waking up.
He flexes his fingers and nothing happens.
He frowns. "Don't do this to me now."
He reaches over and flips a switch on the power pack strapped to his belt.
The gauntlets glow.
Not bright but dangerous. Yellow light bleeds through the seams as the hum deepens, vibrating through the table, through the floor, into the walls. Dust shakes loose from the ceiling.
The man freezes, eyes wide.
"Whoa," he whispers. "Okay. Okay, that's….."
He clenches his fist.
The air shudders and a shockwave rips outward, slamming into the far wall with a thunderous boom. Concrete cracks spiderweb across the surface. Tools fly off the bench. The bulb explodes, plunging the room into darkness except for the glow. He laughs but not loud but satisfied.
"Yeah," he says quietly. "That'll do it."
He lowers his arms, watching the energy ripple and fade.
Nighttime
Spider-Man sits on the edge of a mid-rise building, legs dangling over the side, the city stretched out beneath him like a living map of lights and motion.
He balances a paper bag in one hand and a sandwich in the other, mask peeled halfway up so he can actually eat without making a mess. The wind tugs at his suit, cool against the heat still lingering from the day.
"Okay," he mutters around a bite. "Note to self. Gotham makes excellent sandwiches."
He chews, staring out over the skyline.
It's been a month.
A month since Max.
The thought settles heavy in his chest.
Max in cuffs.
Max screaming his name.
Max looking at him like Spider-Man was both salvation and betrayal wrapped in red and blue.
Alex swallows, appetite fading a little.
"I tried," he says quietly, to no one. "I really did."
He exhales and leans back on his hands, staring up at the darkening sky.
Some nights, that's all he can think about.
Other nights… he thinks about Cass.
His lips twitch despite himself.
Cass sitting beside him in the library, pushing his notes back toward him because he kept drifting off-topic. Cass sliding a bookmark into his book without a word because she noticed he kept losing his place. Cass tilting her head when he talked too fast, not annoyed but just amused.
He snorts softly.
"She does that thing," he murmurs. "With the pen."
He mimics it absently by spinning an imaginary pen between his fingers. Cass does it when she's thinking. Slow. Precise. Like everything she does.
And the way she listens.
Not the polite kind. The real kind. Like his words matter, even when he's rambling about how spiders technically shouldn't exist at their size.
Alex shakes his head, smiling.
"And the nodding," he adds. "Like she's not even listening but she totally is."
He takes another bite of his sandwich, then pauses.
There's a flutter in his chest that has nothing to do with patrol adrenaline.
He remembers the way Cass smiled at him yesterday but it was small and barely there, but it was just for him. The way her fingers brushed his sleeve when she passed him a notebook. The way she signed be careful when he left the library, eyes lingering just a second longer than necessary.
His smile fades into something softer.
"…Oh," Alex says quietly.
The realization hits him like a web snapping taut.
"Oh no."
He stares out at the city again, heart thumping a little faster.
"I like her," he whispers.
Not as a friend but like… like her.
He lets out a weak laugh. "Great. Perfect timing. Because my life wasn't complicated enough."
He folds the empty sandwich wrapper and stuffs it back into the bag, pulling his mask down halfway again, fingers lingering on the fabric.
Below him, Gotham hums and then WEE-OOO. WEE-OOO.
A bank alarm cuts through the night and it makes Alex's head snaps up and he sees red and blue lights flash several blocks away. His spider-sense prickles and then he sighs, pulling the mask fully back into place.
"Guess emotional breakthroughs have to wait," he mutters.
He rises to his feet, stepping to the edge of the building.
"Time to get to work."
Gotham Bank
The bank lobby is chaos.
Alarms scream overhead, red lights strobing against marble walls, glass crunching under Spider-Man's boots as he flips over an overturned desk and lands in a crouch.
"Okay," Spider-Man says, cracking his neck. "Everybody stay calm. This is a robbery, not a rave. Please stop screaming."
A masked man in a bulky yellow hoodie turns toward him.
The gauntlets on his arms hum, glowing with pulsing yellow energy. The air around them vibrates, like the building itself is nervous.
He plants his feet, shoulders squared. "You picked the wrong bank, bug."
Spider-Man tilts his head. "Wow. Zero buildup. No dramatic monologue? I'm offended."
The man fires.
The concussive blast detonates through the lobby like a thunderclap. Air compresses and explodes outward, slamming Spider-Man off his feet and hurling him through a line of plastic chairs.
"OKAY," Spider-Man groans, skidding across the floor. "That one had weight."
He flips back up before the man can fire again, webbing the ceiling and yanking himself airborne.
"Fun fact!" Spider-Man shouts as he swings. "Vibrational shockwaves? Bad for buildings! Also bones! Mostly mine!"
He fires a web straight at the man chest.
The man slams his gauntlets together.
The webbing disintegrates midair, shredded by a vibrating pulse.
"…Rude."
Spider-Man lands behind a pillar as another blast obliterates the marble where his head had been a second ago.
"Okay," Spider-Man mutters. "So webs are a no. Punching is probably also a no. Thinking. I should be thinking."
He darts out, moving fast, using desks, counters, anything for cover. He web-slings a fallen teller desk and flings it like a discus.
The man doesn't even dodge.
He fires once and the desk explodes into splinters.
Spider-Man's spider-sense screams.
He barely gets his arms up before the next blast hits him square in the chest.
The world tilts.
He slams into a vault door hard enough to dent it, air ripping from his lungs.
"ngh okay," he wheezes. "That's… definitely concussive."
The man stalks forward, boots crunching glass. "You heroes always think you're untouchable."
Spider-Man forces himself upright, vision swimming. "In my defense, I usually am."
Another blast.
Spider-Man jumps but not high enough.
The shockwave clips him midair and slams him into the ceiling. He drops hard, skidding across the floor and coming to rest on his back.
For a moment, he just lies there.
Alarms. Screaming. Pain.
The man looms over him, gauntlets glowing brighter.
"Stay down."
Spider-Man tries to push himself up.
His arms shake.
"Yeah," he pants. "See, that's the thing. I don't really do that."
The man raises his hands.
Then the lights flicker.
A shadow moves.
Something hits the mam from the side and it was fast and precise. His arm jerks violently as a kick lands exactly at the joint of his gauntlet.
The blast fires wild, ripping a hole in the ceiling.
The man staggers back. "What the…."
Spider-Man rolls onto his side, blinking.
A black-clad figure stands between him and Shocker. Black suit. White eyes.
Orphan.
Spider-Man's brain immediately short-circuits.
"…Oh," he says dumbly. "Hi."
Orphan doesn't look at him.
She moves.
The man fires again, but Orphan is already gone sliding under the blast, rolling, coming up inside his guard. Her baton snaps out, striking the side of his gauntlet with surgical precision.
The vibration falters.
Spider-Man scrambles to his feet. "Okay! Backup! Love backup! Huge fan of backup!"
Orphan glances at him for half a second.
Her eyes flick to the gauntlets.
Then to the ceiling.
Then back to him.
Spider-Man blinks. "You want me to…?"
She taps the side of her head once.
Plan.
"Oh," Spider-Man says. "Right. Thinking. Got it."
He webs the ceiling lights and yanks.
Glass shatters. Fixtures crash down.
The man snarls and fires upward, blasting debris apart but it forces him to split focus.
Orphan moves again, faster than Spider-Man can track.
She kicks the man's knee. Sweeps his leg. Slams her baton into his elbow.
"HEY!" The man roars, stumbling. "STOP MOVING!"
Spider-Man swings in, aiming low, grabbing Shocker's ankle and yanking hard.
The man slams into the floor, shockwave blasting outward but Spider-Man rides it, flipping over and landing awkwardly on a desk.
He immediately slips.
"…I meant to do that."
Orphan doesn't react.
She's already on the man, wrapping her legs around his arm, twisting, forcing the gauntlet to angle upward.
Spider-Man sees his opening.
"DUCK!" he yells.
Orphan doesn't.
She just shifts.
Spider-Man fires a web straight into the man's other gauntlet, then yanks with everything he has.
The gauntlet tears loose with a shriek of metal.
The man screams. "NO!"
Orphan lands lightly, spins, and kicks the remaining gauntlet hard enough to knock the man off balance.
Spider-Man jumps and misjudges the distance and slams shoulder-first into a pillar.
"…Ow."
He shakes it off and webs the man legs, yanking him backward just as Orphan sweeps him again.
The man hits the floor hard.
Spider-Man webs his arms, his chest, his mask.
Spider-Man looks at the gauntlets, then back at the man. "So… you know what? I'm calling you Shocker."
The man groans. "That's stupid."
Spider-Man points. "Too late. It's sticking."
Shocker glares weakly. "…I hate it."
Spider-Man grins. "Nailed it."
Shocker struggles, vibrations ripping through the webbing but Orphan steps in, places one precise strike at the base of his neck.
Shocker goes limp.
Silence crashes down as the alarms finally die.
Spider-Man stands there, chest heaving, bruised, exhausted.
He looks at Orphan and she looks back and there's a long, awkward pause.
"…So," Spider-Man says. "That was… great teamwork. You're very quiet. Like… intimidating quiet. I respect it."
No response because she just stares.
Spider-Man rubs the back of his neck. "I definitely had that under control. You know. Mostly. Ninety percent. The part where I was on the floor was strategic."
She tilts her head.
He winces. "Okay maybe seventy."
She turns to leave.
"Oh! Wait!" Spider-Man blurts. "Uh thanks. Seriously. You saved me."
She pauses just for a second and then she gives the smallest nod and Spider-Man beams behind his mask.
"…I totally did not just embarrass myself in front of Batman's scariest kid," he mutters.
Orphan disappears into the shadows and the police sirens grow louder.
Spider-Man looks down at the unconscious Shocker, then at the dented pillar, then at the scorch marks on the walls.
"…I need to train more," he says to no one.
He fires a web and swings out through the shattered skylight with his heart racing.
Batcave
The roar of a motorcycle echoes through the cavernous Batcave. Orphan drops gracefully to the floor, engine still growling. With a swift motion, she pulls off her mask, revealing Cass.
Tim leans against the Batcomputer, grinning. "Well, well. Look who decided to save her crush and make it look effortless."
Stephanie snickers from where she's perched on the Batmobile tire. "Classic Cass. Dangerous, efficient… and totally unbothered by boys."
Cass tilts her head slightly, brushing a strand of hair back. She signs quickly:
"I did not do it for him."
Tim translates, smirking. "Yeah, sure, we all believe that."
Stephanie waves a hand. "You mean, of course, we all believe that."
Cass's ears twitch, and she mutters under her breath, annoyed.
Bruce steps forward, expression serious. "Let's focus. I want to discuss Alex Ross."
Tim and Steph exchange a glance. Cassandra straightens.
Bruce's gaze sweeps the group. "First, his personality. How does he respond under stress? How does he interact with others?"
Tim leans forward. "He's smart, confident when he needs to be, and… well, a bit awkward. But in a good way. He doesn't panic, even when things get dangerous."
Stephanie grins. "Yeah. He's got heart, is what I'm saying. And a little stubborn. But cute stubborn. You know, hero-type."
Cass signs quickly, her movements fluid and precise. Tim interprets:
"Focused. Observant. Respectful. Fast learner. Motivated, but emotional when distracted."
Bruce nods, absorbing the information. "Good. Now, his fighting style. Where does he excel? Where does he need improvement?"
Cass signs again, slower this time:
"Quick reflexes. Improvises effectively. Uses environment well. Needs formal training, discipline, and control under pressure."
Tim raises an eyebrow. "You're reading him like a book."
Cass shrugs slightly, not meeting his eyes.
Bruce turns back to them, calm and commanding. "That is precisely why I'm bringing him into the fold."
The cave goes silent for a beat. Jason, leaning casually against a railing, smirks. "Ohh, so we're adopting the new kid. Lucky him."
Stephanie rolls her eyes. "You mean grooming him into a full-on hero, Jason. Big difference."
Jason laughs. "Call it what you want. I volunteer to be the one to initiate him, show him the ropes, bring him here tomorrow night. Make sure he survives Gotham's gentle introduction."
Cass signs quickly, almost impatiently:
"He is observant. Capable. Needs guidance. Will adapt."
Jason chuckles. "Sounds like my kind of fun."
Bruce's gaze sweeps over the group again. "Tomorrow night, Jason escorts him. Cassandra monitors. The rest of you observe as needed. And remember he's capable, but still learning. Treat him accordingly."
Cass signs softly, almost to herself:
"Interesting. I'll watch."
Stephanie nudges Tim, whispering: "Watch him? Cass is already emotionally invested."
Tim shakes his head, whispering back: "Please, don't. We'll never hear the end of it."
Bruce folds his arms. "Prepare for integration. We've observed him for a reason. He has potential. He deserves guidance. And that guidance starts tomorrow."
Jason smirks, throwing a thumb up. "Noted. Rookie, you're in for a long night… and possibly a lot of teasing."
Cass mutters under her breath, signing:
"He will never stop talking."
Tim translates with a grin. "Yep. Already starting."
The Batcave hums with anticipation, teasing, and quiet determination, ready to witness the next chapter in the life of Alex Ross.