Chapter 27: Potential

The paper bag rustled as Jason handed him the lunch he had picked up for them earlier. A simple deli sandwich, the kind you could get in any small store that sold food in Gotham.

It tasted divine to Peter, who hadn't had anything solid to eat since earlier the previous day. He had collapsed on his mattress as soon as they had made it home and had woken up less than an hour earlier, feeling groggy but rested. His throat had fully recovered from his encounter with Ivy, he still remembered the feel of the toxins entering his system, the poison burning through his organs, burrowing into his chest.

He sighed, closing his eyes briefly. Jason was right, he needed to be more cautious.

They ate in silence, which gave him time to look around the building his friend had taken him to. To his surprise, they hadn't gone to one of the more dangerous areas of the city but to the eastern side of Old Gotham, where ancient industry buildings had been rehabilitated into parks, schools and housing units. Most of the construction zones they had passed by had sported the now familiar logo of Wayne Industries. Of course, not all of the old plants had been hit by the architectural craze, an exception which included the one they were currently sitting in.

With a roof of large, clouded glass panels and sturdy steel beams, only the thick layer of dust on its floor and the fading paintwork along the walls showed it wasn't ready to open for business again. Well that and the fact all of the machinery was gone, leaving behind an empty space dozens of time as large as his and Jason's apartments combined. It was surprisingly well lit, even without any electricity and despite the thick layer of snow that still covered the roof. The sun hit it just at the right angle, which was a nice respite from the chill and the wind outside. He had been inside places like this before, when he still protected New York City. Abandoned buildings attracted all sorts of attention, and not all of it was harmless.

"How many hideouts do you own exactly?" He asked, too curious to keep quiet.

He had originally assumed his new friend had a similar background to his, having to make his way through Gotham with little money and no one to help. It was becoming apparent this was not the case. Instead, he was now wondering how much of it had been a lack of funds and how much had been a desire to stay under the radar. Though, if Jason really wanted to remain unnoticed, he probably should ditch that bike of his. That would always stand out when not in the middle of gang infested territories. Even then, despite the disturbingly high amount of weaponry and heavy duty vehicles at the disposition of the city's criminal networks, he had never encountered something quite as memorable as the monstrously large black motorcycle.

"A few." His friend replied, although not without sending him a pointed look, as if to remind him of the previous night. He was still upset about that, which was understandable. "More than a few, actually. I had a lot of cash left over and little way too spend it, really." Money he hadn't earned in any legal way, no doubt. There was no reason to talk about it now, or even to bring it up, but the knowledge his brand new partner had once been involved in extremely shady dealings still stung somewhat. He hadn't expected it and it was a lot to swallow. Parker luck, he supposed.

"How about buying an actual apartment?" Peter pointed out in between bites. The sandwich was good, even now that his stomach felt fuller. Fresh meat, vegetables and just the right amount of spice. It reminded him of his favorite place, back in the day. He'd have to ask where it came from, especially now that he was only hours away from padding his wallet. If he had to fight for Ivy and Harley, he might as well treat himself to something nice with the money he made. He kept on talking as he thought, mouth still half full, which May would have scolded him for.

"Surely this cost more than just buying a few rooms down the street."

Jason's face twisted, showing how much he cared for the idea of living anywhere bigger than a single room. Hangars and former assembly lines aside, having his own space was obviously not something he cared much for. Likely because, as Peter had suspected earlier, he wanted to stay under the radar. No reasons for a budding crime lord to put himself in danger, after all. He himself had seen how useful it could be to have somewhere to fall back to, after their unfortunate encounter with the Bats.

Still, many of the young criminals he had met in the past had no qualms about spending their illegal income to raise their quality of life. Not all of them did it but, for someone under twenty like they were, he had found it to be rather common. Comfort and luxuries didn't appear to be high on his fellow vigilante's list of priorities. Perhaps it was what one needed, in order to raise up as a prominent criminal in Gotham. It seemed the kind of city that would eat an inexperienced criminal alive, in between the dozens of villains roaming about, the various gangs and, of course, the fact an entire family of crime fighter had decided to set up shop there. It could very well be there was no other choice than to spend every last penny on contingencies, weapons and emergency exits.

Either way, this remained a very large, very well placed and no doubt very expensive property. How successful had his new partner been if he was able to afford things like this?

"No apartments." Jason said after finishing his sandwich and crumpling the paper in his hand, rolling it into a ball. "Not much use for them right now. And they're harder to keep without raising suspicion."

"How much did this cost?" Peter gestured at the room around them, at the doors, stairs and ladders that led to hidden offices and smaller work area. "And also how is this easier to hide than an apartment?"

His friend grinned suddenly, amused by his curiosity, or perhaps simply by the question. He tossed the paper ball over his hand, aiming and successfully throwing it straight into the abandoned lunch bag, then turned back to look at him.

"I'm renting this place to a company," Jason smirked, "specializing in long, unfinished, development projects."

"I don't see any project going on." Peter was almost done with his own food and trying to shake crumbs off of one of his only remaining shirts. He really needed to go shopping. Again. "No machines."

"It hasn't gone past the first stages of planning yet." His friend replied, pacing. "It's very common, especially in Gotham. It's hard to find investment you see, especially if you don't want to go through Wayne." A familiar glint of disgust in his eyes when he said that name. There was history there, but not one that was obvious or easy to understand. "Of course no one expects anything to be built there, it's a common trick. It's why I pay them to stall."

Once again, the young metahuman looked around, taking in a few traces that someone had indeed been there before. Footsteps in the dust, tire marks, those of the bike, no doubt. There had been machines there recently, and a workbench. The place had been emptied and had remained unused for a few months at least. But before that, it must have been used as a base of operations, perhaps back when his friend was still actively trying to break out as a rogue.

"If it's so common, how come nobody has looked into it?"

Another grin, this time a bit smug. "I make sure something interesting happens here once in a while, not enough to warrant being watched but just enough that it fits in well. A few drug deals, one or two smuggling rings once in a while. If they get busted, I make it look like the whole thing changes hands." He looked quite proud of it too. "They have no idea who really owns the place."

Peter stared at him for a while. He knew his friend had a history of crime but it was still eerie to hear him mention it in such a casual way, especially now that they had agreed to team up as vigilantes. He decided to keep his mouth shut for now and stood up, tossing his own sandwich's wrapping paper into the flimsy bag. He could feel the other teen's gaze as he walked around for a bit, staring up at the glass ceiling and at the melting snow above.

"This is all very interesting," He began, watching a few droplets leak under a cracked panel. "...But I'm assuming you didn't bring me here to talk about how you bought the place."

He turned back to Jason, who nodded calmly, joining him at the foot of the stairs he had decided to stop next to. Most of his anger from the previous night was gone, and he was back to his usual confident demeanor. He hadn't been happy to learn that Peter did not, in fact, own a gas mask. Apparently, that was an astonishing lack of foresight in Gotham, not that he had any idea before he had been told, of course. Usually, toxins aimed at regular humans affected him either in different unique ways or significantly more weakly. He had not expected to come across someone with the ability to change the composition of a poison at the very same time it was being released. Mutations and alien powers were becoming more common in his old universe, at least when he had left it, but it had been nothing compared to what he was seeing there. 

"You're right." His neighbor nodded, bringing him back to the present. "I brought you here because I want to see you in action."

The meta frowned, tilting his head to the side slightly. "You want to-" He shook his head, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I haven't yet acted out against any of the other rogues," Jason explained, "which will change soon. Until then, I am invited to any and all of those events you like to participate in." He said it nonchalantly, rolling his shoulders as he walked away from the staircase.

"I don't like to participate in them." Peter protested, which was only somewhat true. He did not enjoy the fighting, but it was still his choice to go there, and he knew he could have stood up to Ivy had he really wanted to. The sentence's meaning fully hit him then, and his eyes widened. "Wait. Are you coming tonight?"

He wasn't expecting a positive reply and it took him a few seconds to register the nod for what it was.

"I'll be in the crowd, in case anything goes wrong. I know a few ways out of there."

He felt a wave of relief wash over him, just knowing he wouldn't be alone this time around. Of course, he would still be the one fighting and there wouldn't be anyone at his side when it came to winning, but his friend would still be right there. Not only that, but they had escaped danger together before and he trusted they would be able to again. It might be slightly too optimistic, to think they'd be able to pull away from the Pits in case of an emergency, but it was better than the dread that had been simmering in his chest since he had woken up. 

"Thank you!" He grinned at Jason, who turned away almost immediately, clearing his throat. 

"What else am I supposed to do?" The dark haired teen snapped unconvincingly. "Anyway, I don't want to spend the whole evening wondering if I should rescue you, so I want to see you fight."

Peter's smile faded slightly. He looked around the large space, suddenly understanding why this place out of every hideout that was apparently at their disposal, was the one Jason chose. A wide open area with an even ground and little in the way of obstacles across all of its length. He meant for it to be a training ground, somewhere they could spar at. He shook his head silently, already knowing he had no desire to go against the only person he considered to be on his side in this universe. He had fought regular humans before, and it always tended to end with at least one or two injuries on the side of his opponents.

"You have a lot of strength, and quite a fair bit of speed." The former rogue went on, not looking at his face and therefore missing the discomfort he knew had to be there. "But I haven't seen you fight one on one before, which I need to do before we go out. If we end up having to carve a way out tonight, I'd rather know what to expect."

"I-"

How could he explain, in a nice way, that he didn't want to hurt his friend by accident? He felt saying it too honestly would be hurtful, yet it was true. Jason was obviously experienced when it came to fighting, but he was no meta. He had trained with others before, a few times, but the Avengers had long stopped inviting him over for practice sessions and it had been years now. Even then, he had mostly paired off against the most powerful and experienced of his colleagues, those who could keep up with his abilities. Even if he managed to hold his strength back, there was always the risk of-

His Spider Sense tingled, warning him just in time for him to pivot to the side, dodging a kick that would have landed straight on his nose had he not reacted. The foot passed a few inches from his face and he smelled metal in the thick soles, which had looked completely normal to him only a few moments ago. Something had been dampening the scent, a type of paint perhaps.

Even without super strength behind it, a kick from boots like that had the potential to break his skin, at the very least. He tried to speak, call the impromptu sparring session off, but he was already caught in the moment, and all he could do now was dodge and restrain himself as much as he could.

Instead of stumbling, Jason kept attacking, bringing his leg back in an arc, armored heel aimed at Peter's head. The meta threw his arms up, easily blocking the blow. He pushed against the other boy's ankle, taking great care not to put too much strength behind the shove. Jason twisted around the push, turning around and slamming the back of his hand where his temples had been a heartbeat earlier. He was not holding back, coming at him with all he had and not giving him any space to talk or protest. 

His superior speed allowed him to easily dodge or block anything his friend tried against him and he had no trouble holding his ground when they were matched in a contest of strength. He didn't dare hit back, not wanting to accidentally break a bone or crack a rib, but he stayed a few steps ahead at all times. He tried to put space in between them, only to have it closed in moments and be forced to avoid another barrage of punches or a particularly vicious kick.

Despite this, he couldn't help but be impressed. It was incredible how fast Jason could move without the use of any meta power. Every single one of his strikes was smooth and, had they been evenly matched, without any help from mutations, there was no question as to who would have won the encounter. As it was, it remained painfully easy for Peter to slide and dodge around his friend's attempts to get to him. He could see there was a massive gap in between their respective skill levels but his own powers allowed him to bridge it and surpass it without a second thought. It made him feel a bit bad, there was-

His neck tingled and he rolled under a punch that could easily have shattered his chin were he a regular teenager. He stepped aside, ready to avoid the kick to his waist he could see was coming and-

He felt something push his shoulder, just as the foot he thought was going for his midsection hit the back of his ankle. He was so surprised by the change of pace he found himself falling backward, only to be grabbed by two powerful hands and twisted around in a grapple. This wasn't an issue, he only had to use a bit of his strength to free himself, just enough that he wouldn't risk hurting anyone but also-

An arm around his neck, a hand gripping his head.

"If I twist," Jason said calmly, "You're dead."

It wasn't true. Peter's bones were stronger than a regular human's, and he doubted he could be killed so easily but he kept his mouth shut, going limp and hoping it would be enough for the fight to end.

Blessedly, Jason let go of him immediately after that, helping him to his feet with an apologetic grin. Surprisingly, he looked barely out of breath. After what must have been minutes of fighting at a speed and intensity that only a few world class athletes could attain, his cheeks were only slightly redder than usual and his heartbeat was already slowing down to its regular rhythm. If the precision in his blows hadn't made it obvious before, this was yet another indication he was more than used to this level of combat.

To be this adept at fighting at such a young age suggested something very dark, something Peter had encountered before, in the past of some of his former allies.

He shivered. Gotham was a dangerous place indeed.

Another piece of the puzzle slid into place, and he could almost see the final picture. Yet, there was no point focusing on it now, especially not as his friend began to talk, looking and sounding gravely serious.

"You can't underestimate me, simply because I'm not a meta." Jason said, pointing at him, tone calm despite his words. "Had I had a gun hidden on me, you would be dead four times over, and I am not the most efficient fighter you can find in Gotham."

Peter didn't speak yet, not knowing how honest he wanted to be. He was more than able to dodge bullets, if he used all of his speed, but it was true he had let his guard down. Had he been fighting a meta, that could have been a serious mistake but, as it was, he only had his own attitude to blame. He hadn't been careful enough. No... He had underestimated his opponent, let himself be lulled into a rhythm of dodging and blocking, becoming predictable.

Had he tried, he could have easily defeated the other teen. The issue was, he had not tried. He didn't want to use his powers against someone he liked, not if they weren't wearing armor of some sort. Jason was in his usual jeans, black shirt and leather jacket. If he took a punch from him, he could easily shatter a bone, and that was a best case scenario. This was a risk Spider Man could take, although he preferred to avoid it with the use of his webs. Outside of the suit, the mere idea of going against someone like this made him uncomfortable. It reminded him of his first fight in the Pits, of the street thugs he had to face even before that, of how easy it had been to submit all of them, beat them to a pulp. He could have killed someone, back then. 

But Jason was more skilled than they were, wasn't he? Yet he couldn't forget the noise their bones had made when they snapped, the smack of flesh against flesh and the smell of blood. He didn't want it to happen again, especially not to someone he liked.

"That look…" Jason spat on the ground. "You don't get it. Holding back isn't an option in Gotham, not unless you want to die." He looked genuinely angry, although he did not glare at him.

"You wouldn't kill me." Peter retorted, knowing he was right. "And what use would it be to break your bones before we even start out?"

His words didn't help matters, only causing the other boy's brows to furrow further.

"Believe me kid, there are many things in Gotham that could make me turn against you. Toxins aren't even the only option, in this fucking city." He looked annoyed, frustrated. "I've met people as fast and strong as you, and they have better technique. You've been lucky so far, but it won't always be the case. You need to listen to me before it's too late."

"I've had training before." He protested, remembering hours spent with the Avengers, going through drills and mock sparring. It hadn't been much but it had taught him solid moves, ones he had used many times over his years of crime fighting. "And you're underestimating how many blows I can take."

"I can tell you've had some training." Jason nodded. "But I can also tell it was not consistent, and it didn't teach you much beyond proper footwork and some basic forms. Not that you used those, of course." He walked closer, hands now in his pockets. "You leave yourself open and you don't look out for obvious tells. You rely on your instincts and though that's generally good, it also hinders you because of your lack of experience. You could win against me, if you tried to, but you hold yourself back so much trying isn't even an option."

"I'm not-" Peter closed his mouth just before he let out he had more years of fighting under his belt than he had admitted to. Still, it was quite uncomfortable having to hear his skills dissected so thoroughly. It was true he was more experienced using all of his abilities together, especially his webs, but he was also no beginner. He could feel the worry in his friend, he understood why he thought it was necessary for him to practice but he had never had to in the past.

And look how well you've been doing here.

The stray thought broke through above all others, reminding him of the fire, of the crumbling buildings and of the injuries he had sustained fighting Orca. He had to resort to beating her down mercilessly, he hadn't seen any other way out. What if he had known her weak spots, what if he had learned how to defeat people without having to break them apart or string them up with his webs? He looked down at his hands, knowing he had gone up against gods and monsters with them but also remembering how much of his survival had been thanks to the actions of others or to his own luck. He had fought well for himself, he knew he was pretty smart. He had also messed up, and had to see a lot of people die over the years.

He'd always thought his constant going out and confronting criminals was enough to keep him sharp but even he could tell there was a world of difference between his reliance on his strength and his friend's sheer level of skill.

"I'll help you with it, so it won't be an issue for long." Jason patted his shoulder. "I know a thing or two about martial arts. You'll be terrifying when I'm done with you."

"I'm still not going to hit you." Peter shook his head, hands turning to fists. Even if he was conflicted, it didn't feel right. He didn't want to hurt his only ally.

"You don't understand. This is also something we can work on." The older teen slipped his hands out of his jacket and smiled, anger already fading. "Here. Don't move, alright?"

The meta opened his mouth, confused. Before he could ask what that meant, he got his answer. Jason's fist shot upwards, right at his eyes. His body screamed at him to dodge, step or roll out of the way, block it at least. His friend's words kept him stuck in place. What kind of lesson was that supposed to teach him? Was it some kind of punishment for being too trusting? A way of getting back at him after what happened with Ivy?

Instead of slamming into his face as it should have, the hand stopped at the last possible moment, knuckles brushing against his skin. All of the strength had faded, or perhaps it had been pulled back. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, relieved he hadn't been hit after all, although it probably wouldn't have hurt much. He had fully expected the punch to connect, it had looked undistinguishable from all the others he had dodged, a few minutes earlier.

"With only basic technique, you lack control." Jason went on, letting his arm fall back down to his side. He seemed completely unbothered by what had just happened. "Knowing you lack control, it affects your confidence and it leads to situations like the one earlier. You hold back more than it is necessary, you open yourself up to feints and traps."

"Isn't that just holding back too?" Peter's eyes flickered to the now relaxed fist. "You stopped yourself from hitting me."

Another strike came as soon as the words left his mouth. This one didn't stop, keeping its speed and strength until it hit his chest, where it pushed in harmlessly. One of the weakest punches he had ever felt. It had looked so threatening, though.

"The difference," Jason said calmly, "is I trust myself to control my strength." He shrugged and stepped back. "It's not the only thing. Even with your speed, you move more than you have to, and useless movement is never good. I'd be able to tell you more if you actually tried to fight back, of course."

Peter knew he hadn't been trained for long in any kind of fighting style. The lessons he had in the past were more meant to serve in case of an emergency or in addition to his web slinging than to be all encompassing. He knew solid, basic forms for kicks, punches and other types of strike but they had all been incorporated into a rather eclectic assemble of swinging, jumping and using the terrain to his advantage.

It had never hindered him before but he was at a point where he had to fight without any of his tools, in the Pits at least.

Now that it had happened once, he couldn't help but think it might occur again in the future. He had to keep Spider-Man and Peter the delivery guy as two different individuals in the eye of the public. Even if his civilian persona was starting to attract unwanted attention, he couldn't use his regular tricks to deal with it. He'd have to learn other skills in order to keep up, especially if any of the rogues decided they were interested in him, which he was starting to fear they might.

So here he was, having to listen while Jason explained how he planned to familiarize him with different fighting philosophies and how he needed to lose his apprehension of hitting regular humans. According to him, hesitating at the wrong moment could be deadly in Gotham, no matter who you were facing.

"It's not only that," the young man continued, "A lot of metas here turned their powers into a business. That means they're better trained, equipped and experienced than you would expect, and the older among them are leagues above your level." He seemed to be talking from experience and there was no hesitation in his assessment.

Of course, he didn't know about the whole scope of Peter's powers and had no idea they were derived from a spider's, but the serious edge in his partner's voice was enough to make him worry. He tried to imagine someone just as strong, as fast as he was, paired with intense training. Even without his durability, flexibility and ability to stick to any surfaces, this would be a frightening enemy. 

He had gone up against a few people like this in the past. It had never been a fun experience.

"How can the other vigilantes keep up, then?" He asked, now feeling more open to the idea of getting some additional training in.

"Depends. Some vigilantes are insanely powerful, the kind you and me couldn't even touch without some kind of trap in place."

Superman must be one of those. The Internet had made him seem like some kind of god, powerful above all others on this planet. He wasn't the only one, from what he remembered. This version of Earth was host to a slew of powerful individuals. More than his own, or at least he thought so.

"Some use tech, drugs, anything to have an edge." Jason listed. "A lot of smart people survive that way, actually."

Tony had been similar to those, with his suits. The Bats were a bit like that, too, with their massive vehicles and the gadgets they'd been using the last time they met.

"In Gotham, being prepared for everything and knowing the terrain is often the best you can do. Most of the time, it'll keep you alive."

That one obviously applied to him, what with the amount of hiding places the young man had at his disposition. He even smiled as he said it, probably thinking it to be the wisest option between all of them.

Jason took a break from his speech to drink from one of the water bottle he'd brought over alongside their lunch. He tossed Peter one from across the room and went on as he drank. The sun was still high above the roof, it would be several hours before they had to head out for their deliveries. They had time to talk more, and it was becoming obvious where the conversation was headed.

"You have a lot of potential. You can beat me as you are now. But I think we both know you could use some training, and I can't help you with that until you at least try to fight back."

Peter sighed, understanding what the whole speech had been leading up to. He lowered his bottle and frowned, wiping his mouth.

"Are you going to make me punch you, now?"

"Yes." Jason nodded.

And so, he did.

Notes:

MCU Peter Parker does have a lot of experience fighting shit and saving people but he hasn't had much official training. I kinda wonder how scary he can be, pushed to his own physical limits.

In other words this is the beginning of the Spidey training program.

Also I'm back for the final stretch of the story. There will be a sequel, and we probably still have at least ten chapters to go before the end of this one.

VIOLENCE in the next chapter.

Sequel will probably be called "Red Hood and the Spider".