Spider-Man: Black and Blue (AU) Chapter 6: Escape

[Third Person's PoV] 


“Okay, okay, let’s calm down and take this one step at a time…” Richard muttered, voice trembling as he tried to steady his breathing. He was panicking, but he needed to stay composed—for both their sakes.


With a wince, he gritted his teeth and began peeling his skin away from Damon’s arms. It felt like separating velcro—painful and stubborn.


Once free, Richard quickly reached down and grabbed Damon’s discarded sweater from the tiled floor. He held it out, urgency in his voice. “Here. Put this over your eyes—cover them or something. They're practically glowing at this point.”


Damon wordlessly took the sweater and draped it over his face, obscuring the unnatural glow of his eyes.


Richard’s gaze flicked around the bathroom. The cracked floor tile. The shattered remains of the sink. The two small but distinct puncture marks at the base of Damon’s neck. Something terrible had happened here.


“We need to get you out of here…” Richard fumbled for his phone, his fingers shaking as Damon stood nearby, panting like he’d run a marathon. “I’m calling an Uber. We need to leave—your house or—”


“Your place,” Damon interrupted, his voice low and raw. “I can’t go home like this. Not until we figure out what’s happening to me.”


Richard hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. “Do you even know what bit you?” he asked, eyes darting between the phone and Damon’s neck.


“What?” Damon blinked, clearly disoriented. His thoughts were a mess, and the room spun slightly around him.


“Your neck…” Richard gestured toward the reddening bite mark. “It looks like something nasty sank its fangs into you.”


He reached out, intending to examine the wound more closely, but Damon’s body moved before his mind could process. In a flash of instinct, he twisted away and leapt straight up—clinging to the ceiling like some kind of animal.


Richard stumbled back and nearly dropped his phone. “Holy—what the hell?!” he gasped, staring open-mouthed at Damon, who now crouched against the ceiling tiles with his sweater pressed over his glowing eyes.


Slowly, Damon peeled the sweater back down just enough to reveal his eyes—still glowing with a soft, unnatural blue light. His expression contorted with pain. “Urgh… I don’t even know anymore. It’s too much,” he whispered before covering his eyes again.


“Okay, okay…” Richard said, exhaling hard and raking a hand through his hat. “Just… get down from there. We really need to get out of here before someone sees you like this.”


“Alright, but how?” Damon asked in frustration. “How do I get down from the ceiling?”


“I don’t know! Just… think about unsticking yourself!”


“Easier said than done…” ‘Unstick, unstick, unstick’ Damon repeated silently in his head like a prayer. Slowly, he felt his grip weaken. Then gravity kicked in.


With a startled yelp, he dropped—but his reflexes kicked in again, and he landed neatly on his feet.


Richard grabbed Damon’s backpack from the floor and rushed over. “Come on—we need to go. Now!” he said, eyes darting toward the hallway in fear someone might walk in at any second.


“Watch your step,” he added quickly as they passed the shattered remains of the sink basin.


Damon reached for the bathroom door, but the moment he touched it, the whole thing came off the hinges—stuck firmly to his palm like it was glued there.


“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Richard hissed, stuffing his phone into his pocket. He stomped over and began tugging at the door with a mixture of grunts and frustration. After a brief struggle, he finally yanked it free, nearly falling backward in the process.


He gently leaned the door against the wall, then turned to Damon and gave him a firm push. “Go. Now. We don’t have time.”


As they made their way through the school’s quiet hallways, Richard kept checking his phone every few seconds, watching the little Uber car icon inch closer and closer.


Finally, he spotted it pull up outside through the window.


“There it is,” he whispered. “Let’s move.”


They hurried through the building and burst outside into the crisp evening air. Damon made a move to open the car door, but Richard smacked his hand away and jumped in front of him.


“Nope. No touching. I’ll do it,” he said, opening the door and practically shoving Damon into the back seat.


“Was that Damon? Is he alright?” a voice called from behind him.


Richard froze.


He turned slowly and found Lizzy and MJ approaching from the sidewalk, both wearing worried expressions.


“Huh? Oh—him?” Richard said awkwardly, positioning himself between them and the car door, doing his best to block their view.


“Yeah, that was him,” he said with a strained smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.


“He didn’t look well during the trip back,” MJ said, narrowing her eyes.


“Oh, yeah. That.” Richard fumbled, reaching for a believable excuse. “He’s got a fever. Was sweating buckets earlier.”


Lizzy folded her arms. “And the trip to the bathroom just now?”


Richard forced out a sigh and shook his head. “Food poisoning. Can you believe it? Of all days…”


“Why was he covering his face just now?”


Lizzy and MJ flinched, startled by the sudden voice behind them. They turned to see Danielle standing a few feet away, one hand gripping the shoulder strap of her bag. Her half-lidded eyes flicked toward them from behind her glasses as she calmly adjusted the frames higher up her nose.


“Danielle… Hey…” Richard greeted awkwardly. “It’s nothing, really.”


“He’s just… ashamed of himself,” Richard blurted out quickly, “You know how he gets. Anyway, he’s going to rest at my place for a bit. Bye!”


Without waiting for further questions, Richard entered and yanked the car door shut and rapidly tapped the back of the driver’s seat.


“Drive, drive, drive—just go!” he whispered urgently.


The Uber peeled away from the curb, leaving behind a swirl of dust and three very confused girls watching it disappear into the street.


Lizzy and MJ turned toward Danielle, who didn’t bother to hide her irritation. She eyed the space where the car had been, then looked up at the two taller girls.


“What are you looking at?” she asked, voice flat. “Trying to start something?”


“Nope!” they said in unison, practically tripping over each other as they scurried off.


Danielle remained rooted in place, arms crossed and expression unreadable. She narrowed her eyes at the direction the car had gone.


“He’s lying…” she murmured to herself. “And he should know—he’s a terrible liar.”



---


Later, at Richard’s house…


Damon sat hunched forward on a bench in Richard’s home gym, arms resting on his knees, his breathing finally starting to slow. His eyes were closed, glowing faintly behind his lids. The world still felt overwhelming.


Richard returned carrying a roll of bandages. He held them out cautiously.


“Here. Use this for your eyes. Just in case they don't stop glowing,” he said quietly.


“Thanks…” Damon reached out and began wrapping the bandage around his head, covering his eyes like a makeshift blindfold.


Silence settled over the room. Heavy. Awkward. Neither of them knew where to begin.


“It was probably that spider,” Richard said at last, scratching the back of his head.


“What?” Damon asked, pausing in his wrapping.


“At Oscorp. Remember the spider that went missing? The genetically modified one? Maybe that’s what bit you. It could’ve given you spider powers or something. I mean—you were sticking to the ceiling”


“Oh, totally,” Damon replied with thick sarcasm. “Because every spider I’ve ever seen has X-ray vision, telescopic vision, thermal vision, and—let’s not forget—freaking glowing eyes. Although you can’t see it, I’m rolling mine right now.”


Richard held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. But hear me out. It was genetically altered. Who’s to say it didn’t have those features? Spiders do have eight eyes—vision is their strongest trait. Maybe that enhancement carried over. Honestly, it’s the only explanation that even comes close to making sense.”


He leaned back against a punching bag, exhaling. “I’m just trying to help you piece this together.”


Damon sighed. “So… what, I have powers now?”


“Maybe,” Richard said, his face lighting up. “And honestly? That’s so sick. Let’s recap: you’ve got super strength, adhesive skin, plus those weird glowing eyes give you visual powers as well. Who knows what else you’ve got?”


He glanced at the punching bag beside him, an idea sparking in his mind.


“Hey—can you punch this?” he asked, gesturing to the bag.


“Huh? Why?” Damon frowned.


“Please, dude. I need to see what happens.”


Damon rolled his eyes under the bandage but walked over regardless. Richard moved aside eagerly, already pulling out his phone.


“Do I just… punch it?” Damon asked.


“Yup. Just one solid hit. Go on.”


With a sigh, Damon crouched slightly and pulled his fist back. Then, in one smooth motion, he drove it into the bag.


The result was explosive.


The punching bag tore clean off its chain, blasted across the room, and slammed into the far wall where it exploded in a cloud of sand and shredded canvas. Sand rained down across the gym like confetti.


Both boys stood in stunned silence.


Richard’s phone slowly dropped from his hands. “Holy—”


“HAHAHAHAHAHA!!” he burst out, doubling over in laughter. “THAT. WAS. EPIC!”


Damon stared at his fist in mute disbelief. The force, the precision, the raw power… It didn’t feel real. That shouldn’t have been possible.


But it was.