Spider-Man: Black and Blue (AU) Chapter 7: Testing

[Third Person's PoV] 


“All right… I want you to punch me,” Richard said as he waddled over with a determined look on his face. His body was bundled in layers upon layers of clothes, topped off with thickly padded gear that made him look like a walking mattress.


Damon blinked, staring at him in disbelief. “You literally saw what I did to that punching bag. I shattered the frame. I still don’t know how to control my strength. What makes you think this is even remotely a good idea?”


“I trust you,” Richard said confidently, thumping his heavily padded stomach with both hands like a drum. “Right here. Hit me. Not too hard, obviously.”


Damon exhaled a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Fine… but if you die, I’m telling your dad you begged me.”


He took a small step forward, then launched a quick jab into Richard’s padded chest.


There was a dull thud followed by a sharp whoosh of air as Richard was instantly lifted off the ground. He soared through the air with a faint groan, limbs flailing slightly, and landed in the boxing ring behind him with a loud THUD, rolling like a deflated tire before coming to a stop.


Damon winced. “You good?”


“Yeeeah,” Richard wheezed, sounding like someone who’d just been hit by a truck made of pillows. “Holy shit… I flew. Oh God. What the hell was I thinking? That hurt like hell”


Damon stepped into the ring with a quiet chuckle and extended a hand. He lifted Richard effortlessly, as if he weighed nothing at all.


Despite the impact, Richard looked pleased with himself as he started peeling off layers of sweaty clothes and padding. “Okay, that was amazing. We’re going to have so much fun testing what you can do.”


Damon scoffed, brushing his hair back. “You're having more fun than I am.”


“That’s because you're the idiot who doesn’t realize how cool this is,” Richard said, tossing a padded vest aside. “You’ve been given a gift, man.”


“A gift?” Damon said, raising an eyebrow behind his blindfold. “I can't even see properly anymore. Pretty sure this thing messed with my vision. It feels more like a curse.”


Richard laughed and slapped Damon’s chest lightly. “You’re always so damn negative. You gotta look at the bright side, man, always, no matter how shitty it seems. I bet there’s not a single person on this planet who can do what you can do right now.”


Damon rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.


Richard grinned. “Alright, we won’t be able to test everything right away, but let’s start small. Get a baseline.”


Just as he started digging into a duffel bag, his eyes widened and he smacked his forehead. “Damn it—I just remembered something.”


“What now?” Damon asked.


“My dad has security cameras set up in this place…” Richard muttered with a guilty look. “I’ll handle it. I’ll go in and delete the footage before he checks anything. But it means we can’t test you out here again. Too risky.”


“Great,” Damon muttered.


“Don’t worry—I know the perfect place.”



---


Later…


Damon and Richard stood outside a dilapidated warehouse, its shadow stretching across the overgrown gravel lot. Damon still wore his blindfold, and Richard had a bulky backpack slung over his shoulder.


The building looked like it had been forgotten by time. Shattered windows lined the upper levels, rust streaked down the metal framework, and green moss clung to every third brick like nature was trying to reclaim it.


“This is the place,” Richard said, stepping up to the big green iron doors. He grabbed the latch and struggled to push it open, grunting as it screeched and resisted. “Every time my dad had business at the pier, I used to pass by here. It was always abandoned, so I figured it’d be perfect.”


After a moment of struggling, Damon casually stepped forward, placed one hand on the door, and gave it a light push. It swung open with a loud creak like it had been waiting to be used again.


Richard stared at him flatly. “Show off…”


Damon just smirked.


Richard pulled a few things from his backpack and began setting up. He placed a stopwatch on the ground, a measuring tape, a few pieces of chal, and flipped open a worn notebook filled with diagrams of clothing.


Damon raised an eyebrow. “You brought a stopwatch? We literally have smartphones.”


Richard paused. 


“…”


“You didn’t think of that, did you?”


Richard looked off to the side and shrugged. “They always use stopwatches in the movies, alright?”


…


“There’s no real definitive way to test your absolute strength,” Richard said, tapping the side of his chin thoughtfully. “So we won’t focus on that for now. But I am curious… can you punch through that pillar?”


Damon turned his head toward the wide brick-layered support column at the far end of the warehouse. Without hesitation, he stepped up to it, drew his fist back, and drove it forward.


BOOM!


A large chunk of the pillar exploded outward on impact. Concrete dust clouded the air, and broken bits of brick and stone rained down in a wide arc across the floor.


Richard let out a gleeful laugh, his face lighting up like a kid in a candy store. “Dude! You have no idea how sick that looked!”



---


A while later, Richard stood at the far end of the warehouse, beside a chalk-drawn finish line. He held a stopwatch and glanced at the stretch of cracked concrete floor where he had marked a 100-meter dash.


“All right, I measured the distance and marked it clearly,” Richard called out. “Let’s see how fast you can run a hundred meters.”


Damon crouched down at the starting line, his hands touching the ground, his hips raised in perfect sprinter’s form.


“You ready? Get set…”


Damon focused, muscles tensing like coiled springs.


“And… go!” Richard shouted, slamming the start button.


Damon burst forward in a blur of motion. His figure was nearly impossible to track—just a streak of movement followed by a gust of air. In the blink of an eye, he crossed the finish line and skidded to a halt.


Richard stared at the stopwatch and then whooped loudly. “Four point three seconds! That's twice as fast as Usain Bolt! Holy crap, man!”


He frantically jotted the result down in his notebook, grinning like a mad scientist.



---


“Okay, now we’re testing your vertical leap,” Richard said, handing Damon a piece of chalk. “When you jump, slash the pillar at your peak. I’ll measure it after.”


Damon nodded, starting to get into it now. His earlier caution had faded, replaced by something like excitement. He crouched beside the pillar, focused, and launched himself into the air with a tremendous whoosh that kicked up dust and loose papers.


At the apex of his jump, he slashed the chalk against the pillar, then dropped back down and landed in a perfect squat, barely making a sound.


Richard looked up with the tape measure, extending it slowly. He paused, tilted his head back further, then sighed and looked at Damon. “Yeah… we’re gonna need a bigger measuring tape. That was over 100 feet.”


Damon facepalmed and let out a chuckle. “Seriously?”



---


“Alright,” Richard said, digging into his bag. “Time to test something different. Take off your eye covers.”


Damon reached up, hooked a finger beneath the blindfold, and pulled it off. As he opened his eyes, they shimmered in the dim light—radiant, glimmering like cut diamonds reflecting the stars.


Richard blinked, staring blankly. “Okay… that was unnecessarily dramatic. On the bright side, at least they’re not glowing anymore. But weirdly enough, they’re more beautiful than before.”


“…”


“Gay,” Damon deadpanned.


“I will punch you,” Richard growled. Now tell me how many fingers I’m holding.”


Damon narrowed his eyes and concentrated. As his gaze sharpened, the layers of the backpack peeled away like smoke, revealing Richard’s raised hand beneath.


“One…” Damon said. “And it’s the middle one.”


“X-ray vision: check.” Richard grinned, scribbling the result into his notebook. “Try switching it—see if you can change modes.”


“How? You’re the comic/movie nerd, not me. I don’t know how this stuff works,” Damon replied, crossing his arms. he was never into movies or comic books much even in his past life, he was more of a music/artist type of person. 


“It’s usually about focus and intent. Try willing it, like you do when sticking or unsticking from walls.”


Damon furrowed his brow and focused again. The X-ray effect faded, and suddenly the world zoomed in, revealing tiny individual threads in Richard’s backpack fabric, each one sharp and distinct.


“Whoa… it’s like I just zoomed in. Everything got super detailed,” Damon said, pulling his head back slightly.


“Telescopic vision: check!” Richard called out.


A blink later, Damon’s sight shifted again. The world turned red and blue, with heat signatures glowing on the walls and ceiling.


“Add thermal vision.”


“Thermal vision: check.” Richard scribbled furiously. “Anything else?”


“Maybe night vision?” Damon said, rubbing his eyes. “I’ve been really sensitive to light lately.”


“Night vision, check. Anything else coming through?”


“Not that I’m aware—” Damon paused as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, and a message from Danielle lit up the screen.


> If you’re on your way back, get me sushi.


Damon checked the time and sighed. “We’ve gotta call it. It’s getting late.”


Richard looked at his own watch and let out a groan. “Crap. My dad’s gonna kill me. You’re right, let’s wrap up. We’ll continue tomorrow.”


They packed up quickly, throwing everything into Richard’s backpack. As the last of the evening light disappeared and the shadows stretched across the warehouse floor, they slipped out through the creaky green door.


The sky above had darkened into a navy canvas speckled with stars. The streetlights flickered on as the two of them bolted down the street, laughter echoing behind them.