The city blurs beneath them.
Wind howls past Alex's ears as he swings low between Gotham's buildings, webline snapping tight with every arc. Neon lights smear into streaks of color, sirens echoing somewhere far below but Alex barely notices any of it because Cassandra is holding onto him.
She's pressed close against his back, arms wrapped securely around his shoulders, her grip steady and confident like this is the most natural thing in the world. Her forehead rests near his shoulder, her weight perfectly balanced so it doesn't throw off his swing even once.
Alex, on the other hand, is not balanced and his face is on fire under the mask.
"Ohmygodokaydon'ttalkdon'ttalkjustfocus," he mutters under his breath, immediately regretting that he spoke at all.
Cass tilts her head slightly, her cheek brushing the side of his neck.
Alex's brain short-circuits.
"Y-you're…uh…you're good back there, right?" he blurts out. "I mean not that I thought you wouldn't be, you're obviously very good at everything, which is….wow….I should stop talking."
Cass doesn't answer right away but she tightens her hold just a little and the she signs against his shoulder where he can feel the motion. I'm fine. You swing well.
Alex swallows hard.
"Oh. Cool. Awesome. Thanks. That's….that means a lot coming from someone who could absolutely kill me with a pinky."
A tiny huff of amusement leaves her lips and Alex feels it and his blush deepens.
They soar over the river, Arkham Asylum rising ahead like a concrete nightmare with looming towers, iron gates and spotlights cutting through fog like watchful eyes. Lightning flashes in the distance, briefly illuminating the asylum's jagged silhouette.
Alex slows his swing, landing lightly on a nearby rooftop overlooking the grounds.
Nightwing is already there, crouched at the edge, escrima sticks spinning idly between his fingers. Stephanie Brown stands beside him, hands on her hips, cape fluttering dramatically because of course it is.
"Wow," Steph says, grinning wide. "Look at you two. Very romantic entrance. Ten out of ten. Would swoon again."
Alex makes a strangled noise. "IT WAS STRICTLY LOGISTICAL."
Cass releases him smoothly, landing beside him without a sound. She looks perfectly calm.
Steph raises an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. Sure. Logistical hugging. Very tactical."
Cass pointedly ignores her.
Nightwing straightens, eyes flicking from Alex's to Cass's composed expression. A knowing smile tugs at his mouth.
"Alright," he says, clapping his hands once. "Focus up. Arkham's in full chaos mode. Inmates everywhere, systems down, guards overwhelmed."
Alex steps forward. "Yeah, uh, quick question….why does Arkham always look like it's one bad breeze away from a horror movie?"
"Because it is," Steph answers cheerfully.
Cass steps forward, gaze scanning the grounds. Her posture shifts subtly and she signs.
We split. Cover more ground.
Nightwing nods. "Exactly what I was thinking."
He points toward the east wing. "I'll take Spider-Man. We clear cell blocks and control rooms. Keep things mobile."
Steph groans. "Wow. Rude. What, I don't get the charming new guy?"
Cass signs again.
I'll go with Stephanie. Medical wing. Infirmary. Many civilians.
Steph brightens instantly. "See? She gets me."
Alex hesitates.
"Be careful?" he says softly.
Cass meets his eyes and nods once and signs.
Always.
Then she pauses, signs one more thing.
You too.
Alex's chest tightens.
"Yeah," he says quietly. "I'll… yeah."
Steph watches the exchange with a grin that borders on smug. "Wow. If you two get any more emotionally charged, I'm gonna start charging admission."
Cass turns and starts moving.
Steph scrambles after her. "Okay okay! Moving! But I'm just saying if you don't realize you have a crush soon, I will point it out aggressively."
Cass doesn't respond.
Nightwing steps up beside Alex, both of them watching Cass and Steph disappear into the shadows.
"…You okay?" Nightwing asks casually.
Alex exhales. "I….yeah. Totally. Great. Perfect. Normal heart rate."
Nightwing snorts. "Buddy. You were redder than your suit."
Alex groans. "Please don't tell Batman."
"Relax," Nightwing says, clapping him on the shoulder. "Your secret's safe. Mostly."
They leap down into the asylum grounds together, boots hitting cracked pavement as alarms wail somewhere inside.
The doors to Arkham stand open, twisted and broken. Distant laughter echoes through the halls.
Alex shifts his weight, muscles tensing.
"Okay," he mutters. "Note to self. Next time someone says 'Arkham Asylum,' maybe fake a cold."
Nightwing smirks. "Welcome to Gotham."
They slip inside, shadows swallowing them whole as the doors creak shut behind them.
Timeskip
The hallway smells like rust, disinfectant, and something old.
Alex lands lightly beside Nightwing as they move through the dim corridor, boots barely making a sound against the cracked tile. Emergency lights flicker overhead, painting everything in red and shadow.
"So," Alex whispers, peeking around a corner, "on a scale from one to ten, how bad is Arkham usually?"
Nightwing exhales through his nose. "Today? Eleven."
Alex winces. "Awesome. Love that for us."
They advance together, smooth and practiced despite having worked together for less than an hour. Nightwing moves with precision and Alex mirrors him almost instinctively, sticking to walls, clinging to ceilings when needed, always keeping pace.
Nightwing notices.
"You adapt fast," he murmurs. "Most people trip over their own feet the first time they're in here."
Alex shrugs. "High school prepared me for hostile environments."
Nightwing snorts quietly. "Fair."
They slip past an overturned gurney, dodging a crazed inmate who sprints past them screaming about voices in the vents.
Alex grimaces. "Please tell me that's not the weirdest thing I'm gonna see tonight."
Nightwing glances at him. "Kid, I fought a man dressed as a calendar once."
Alex pauses mid-step. "…Like. A theme calendar?"
"Every holiday."
"…I take it back. I'm not ready."
Despite everything, Nightwing smiles. There's something familiar about Alex with the constant talking, the deflecting humor, the way he hides tension behind jokes.
"You remind me of someone," Nightwing says.
Alex tilts his head. "Oh no. That never ends well."
"Relax," Nightwing replies. "It's a compliment. He is my best friend and y'all kinda look the same as well. Maybe one day y'all can meet"
Before Alex can respond the floor shakes and Alex's spider-sense screams.
"Uh," he says quietly, eyes darting. "You feel that, right?"
The lights flicker and a deep, rumbling growl echoes down the hall and then something massive steps into the emergency lighting.
Green scales.
Rows of jagged teeth.
Yellow eyes glowing with hunger.
Killer Croc.
Nightwing's posture shifts instantly. "That's our cue."
Croc grins, cracking his neck. "Been smellin' fresh meat all night."
Alex swallows. "Cool. Great. Love the hospitality." Croc lunges.
The hallway explodes into motion and Alex reacts first with hus webbing snapping out, anchoring to the ceiling as he yanks himself upward just as Croc's claws tear through where he'd been standing and concrete shatters.
Nightwing vaults sideways, escrima sticks crackling to life as he smashes one into Croc's jaw.
It barely phases him and Croc roars and backhands Nightwing across the corridor. He slams into the wall hard enough to crater it.
"Nightwing!" Alex shouts.
He dives, wrapping Croc's legs in webbing and yanking with everything he has but Croc doesn't budge but instead he laughs.
"Cute," Croc snarls, tearing through the webbing like it's string.
Alex lands in front of him, fists raised but he hesitates as he pulls his punch and Croc notices and grabs Alex by the throat and slams him into the wall, pinning him there.
"You hit like a child," Croc growls.
Alex gasps, fingers clawing at Croc's wrist. "Yeah, well uh working on it"
Croc throws him and Alex hits the floor and rolls, barely managing to spring back up before Croc charges again.
Nightwing recovers, launching himself onto Croc's back, wrapping an arm around his neck.
"Alex!" Nightwing shouts. "Stop holding back!"
Alex fires webbing at Croc's face, blinding him just long enough to pull Nightwing free.
"I….I can't!" Alex yells. "If I hit him full force…."
Croc slams his fist into the floor, shockwaves ripping through the hallway. Alex stumbles and Nightwing grabs his arm and says "Look at me."
Alex does and Nightwing's face is calm but intense.
"You think restraint means weakness," Nightwing says. "It doesn't. But right now? You're not being careful. You're being scared."
Alex's jaw tightens.
"I've seen what happens when people lose control," Alex snaps. "I won't become that."
Nightwing shakes his head. "This isn't about rage. It's about trusting yourself."
Croc charges again, roaring and Nightwing doesn't look away from Alex.
"You don't want to hurt people," Nightwing continues. "That's good. That's what makes you different."
Croc's shadow looms.
"But holding back isn't mercy," Nightwing finishes. "Sometimes it's just another way of running."
Something in Alex clicks and his spider-sense sharpens and the world slows as he steps forward.
"Hey, Croc," Alex says quietly.
Croc swings and Alex catches his fist and the impact cracks the floor beneath their feet.
Croc's eyes widen as Alex exhales and mutters. "No more pulling punches."
He twists, using leverage instead of brute force then slams Croc into the ground.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
The hallway becomes a blur of motion with Alex moves faster than Croc can track with each hit very powerful.
Croc roars, swinging wildly and Alex ducks, flips, kicks Croc's knee sideways with enough force to make it buckle. Nightwing watches, stunned. "That's… that's new," he mutters.
Croc lunges again and Alex meets him head-on as he drives a punch into Croc's chest that sends the monster skidding backward, smashing through a reinforced cell door.
Alex doesn't stop as he web-slings himself forward, smashing Croc into the wall, then wraps his arms around Croc's torso and throws him across the cell block and Croc crashes through concrete and steel, collapsing in a heap.
The hallway goes silent.
Alex stands there, chest heaving, knuckles aching. Slowly, Croc groans and doesn't get back up.
Nightwing approaches, eyes wide.
"…Remind me never to spar with you," he says.
Alex blinks, looking down at his hands. "I…I didn't lose control."
Nightwing smiles. "Exactly."
Alex exhales shakily. "Okay. I think I get it now."
Nightwing claps him on the shoulder. "Welcome to the next level."
Alex winces. "Does the next level always involve punching crocodiles?"
Nightwing grins. "Only on Tuesdays."
They move on while behind them, Killer Croc stays down.
Elsewhere
Arkham is screaming.
Not metaphorically but literally.
Laughter echoes down the corridors, sharp and broken, bouncing off peeling walls and iron bars. Inmates swarm the halls like ants from a kicked nest, some armed with scavenged pipes, others with nothing but madness and too many teeth.
Orphan moves through them like a shadow given purpose.
A man lunges at her with a rusted shiv as she steps inside his reach, redirects his wrist, and drops him unconscious with a single, precise strike to the throat. Another inmate charges from behind and she doesn't even turn, just feels him, ducking as his swing passes inches above her head. Her heel snaps backward into his knee. He collapses.
Spolier lands beside her a half second later, baton spinning in her hand.
"Okay, tell me again why Arkham doesn't believe in, I don't know, locks?"
Cass doesn't answer. She's already moving again.
Steph sighs, vaulting over a fallen gurney and smacking an inmate across the jaw. "Right. Silent ninja thing. Got it."
They advance together with Cass fluid and wordless, Steph fast and energetic, constantly talking even as she fights. It's chaos, but somehow they work perfectly in sync.
Steph sweeps an inmate's legs out from under him and pins him with her baton. "You know, this would be a great bonding experience if we weren't being attacked by the Gotham Psycho Parade."
Cass tilts her head slightly.
Steph grins. "I'm calling it that. Trademark pending."
Cass disarms another attacker, twisting his arm until the pipe clatters to the floor. She releases him the moment he goes limp.
Steph watches her for half a second too long. "You're amazing," she blurts out.
Cass pauses, confused. "…Danger."
Steph blinks. "What?"
Cass points.
Steph ducks just in time as a chair sails over her head and smashes into the wall. "Oh. Right. Murder chairs."
They keep moving.
More inmates rush them five, then six. Cass takes the center, her movements almost inhumanly predictive. She blocks attacks before they happen, counters blows that haven't fully formed yet. Steph covers her flanks, cracking jokes even as she cracks skulls.
"So," Steph says between strikes, "hypothetical question."
Cass grabs an inmate's sleeve, flips him over her shoulder, and lets him hit the floor hard enough to stop moving. "Mm?"
Steph ducks under a swing. "If a certain someone tall, red-and-blue, scientifically gifted were, say, really nice and heroic and kind of adorable…"
Cass blocks another attack. "Alex."
Steph freezes for half a second. "Okay wow, you do notice things."
Cass nods once. "Good heart."
Steph brightens. "Right? So if someone maybe had a crush on him….."
Cass steps forward, palm striking an inmate's chest and dropping him instantly. "…Crush?"
Steph stares. "You don't know what a crush is?"
Cass considers. "Pressure?"
Steph groans. "No like Feelings. Romantic. Butterflies. Wanting to hold hands and stuff."
Cass tilts her head again, genuinely trying to understand. "He holds hands. To swing."
Steph laughs despite herself. "Not…ugh. You're impossible."
Another wave of inmates charges.
Cass and Steph move again, backs almost touching now. Cass is breathing steady, focused. Steph's breathing is heavier but her grin never fades.
Steph smacks a man across the face and leans toward Cass. "For the record, if you did like Alex, you could tell me."
Cass doesn't respond immediately.
She disarms one attacker.
Sidesteps another.
Drops a third.
Then, quietly: "…I like Alex."
Steph's eyes widen. "YOU WHAT?"
Cass turns to her, expression calm. "He is kind. Gentle. Strong. He listens."
Steph's jaw drops. "Wow….oh my god….that's..."
The lights flicker.
The air changes as Cass stiffens as her body reacts before her mind does.
"Electricity," she says.
Steph frowns. "What?"
The hallway explodes in blue-white light.
A thunderous crack rips through the corridor, followed by the smell of ozone. Inmates scream and scatter as arcs of lightning crawl along the walls. A figure steps out of the light.
Max Dillon aka Electro.
His eyes glow, electricity dancing across his skin like living veins. He grins, wide and unhinged.
"Well," he hums, voice buzzing with power, "ain't this cozy."
Cass immediately moves, launching herself toward him vut Electro raises his hand and a bolt of lightning slams into Cass mid-air.
She crashes into the wall hard enough to crack it, collapsing to the floor.
"ORPHAN!" Steph screams.
Steph charges, baton raised. "HEY! Sparkles! Pick on someone your own…."
Electro flicks his wrist and lightning hits Steph square in the chest.
Her scream cuts off as she's thrown backward, skidding across the floor and slamming into a cell door.
The world goes silent.
Cass struggles to push herself up, muscles screaming, vision blurred. Electricity dances painfully through her nerves.
Electro approaches slowly, boots crackling with energy.
"Impressive," he says, looking down at her. "You moved before I fired."
Cass forces herself to her knees. Her hands shake but her eyes stay locked on him.
"…Monster," she breathes.
Electro chuckles. "Oh sweetheart. This is Arkham. We're all monsters."
He raises his hand again and Cass lunges not to attack, but to shield.
The lightning strikes again and everything goes white.
Orphan hits the ground beside Spoiler, the last thing she feels being the warmth of Steph's hand brushing hers.
The hallway goes dark as Electro turns away, laughing softly as alarms continue to blare.
Back with Spider-Man and Nightwing
Arkham Asylum had stopped pretending it was a place of order.
Smoke curled through shattered hallways. Alarms wailed without rhythm. Cells hung open like broken mouths, and the air reeked of fear, sweat, and madness. Somewhere deep inside the asylum, something heavy slammed against reinforced doors again and again.
Spider-Man and Nightwing moved through the chaos like red and blue blurs.
"Left!" Nightwing shouted, springing off a wall.
Alex reacted instantly, webbing a charging inmate and yanking him off his feet. "On it!"
They'd already taken down more than Alex could count. Some being escapees, armed guards turned desperate and low-level thugs laughing like the world had finally made sense to them. Sweat soaked through Alex's suit beneath the new armor Alfred had given him, his heart hammering as his spider-sense buzzed almost nonstop.
Nightwing flipped over a gurney and slammed his escrima sticks into an attacker's ribs. "You holding up, Spider?"
"Yeah!" Alex shot back, webbing another man to the ceiling. "Arkham really needs a no-running-in-the-halls policy."
Nightwing snorted despite himself. "You joke under pressure. That's good."
They rounded a corner and froze.
Oswald Cobblepot stood at the end of the corridor, umbrella gun already raised, flanked by two terrified henchmen.
"Well," Penguin sneered, monocle glinting. "If it isn't Gotham's favorite circus act and his acrobatic friend."
Alex tilted his head. "You must be the penguin guy. I expected… more feathers."
Penguin fired and Alex yanked Nightwing down as bullets tore into the wall behind them. Nightwing rolled, sprang up, and launched a stick that knocked the umbrella gun aside.
Alex webbed Penguin's feet, slamming him face-first into the floor. "Nap time!"
They barely had a second to breathe before a deep, calm voice echoed from behind.
"You know," Harvey Dent said, flipping his coin, "I hate being interrupted."
Two-Face stepped out of the shadows, shotgun gleaming.
Nightwing groaned. "Of course."
Alex lunged first, webbing the barrel of the shotgun and yanking it upward as it fired harmlessly into the ceiling. Nightwing followed, striking Two-Face's bad side, forcing him to stumble.
Two-Face snarled and flipped his coin.
Heads.
Alex slammed him into the wall before he could decide otherwise.
"That's three for three," Alex muttered, breathing hard. "Are we doing a rogues gallery speedrun?"
Nightwing smiled then his expression hardened.
"Something's wrong."
Alex felt it too.
A faint hiss echoed through the corridor with green gas seeped from vents overhead.
"Oh no," Alex whispered. "That's not good."
The world twisted as the alarms faded, replaced by silence so heavy it pressed on Alex's chest. The walls melted away, replaced by something achingly familiar.
A small apartment.
Dim lights.
The smell of old coffee and rain.
"Alex?"
His breath caught.
He turned slowly and his father stood near the kitchen table, still wearing his police jacket, badge glinting faintly. He looked… tired. Older than Alex remembered. His eyes were filled with something far worse than anger.
Disappointment.
"You weren't there," his father said quietly.
Alex shook his head. "Dad….this isn't…"
"I needed you," his father continued, voice steady, controlled. "Your mother needed you. And you chose this instead."
Alex felt his chest tighten. "I didn't know…."
"You always run toward danger," his dad said, stepping closer. "But when it mattered most… you weren't home."
Alex's hands shook. "I'm trying to help people. I'm trying to be like you."
His father's eyes softened but only a little. "Then why is she alone?"
The apartment shifted and Alex saw his mother sitting at the kitchen table, head in her hands, shoulders shaking.
"No," Alex whispered. "Please…"
"You failed her," his dad said. "Just like you failed me."
Alex dropped to his knees, clutching his head. His spider-sense screamed but he didn't know why.
"I can do better," he choked out. "I promise. I'll be better."
Then….
"Alex."
The voice wasn't his father's.
It was calm. Steady. Familiar.
"You're not here."
Alex's eyes snapped open and the apartment shattered like glass.
He was back in Arkham, gas still swirling around him. Across the hall stood Scarecrow, arms spread wide, mask grinning.
"Fear shows us the truth," Scarecrow crooned. "And yours is delicious."
Alex staggered to his feet, breathing hard. "You don't get to use him."
Scarecrow laughed. "Your guilt will break you."
Alex closed his eyes and his father's real voice echoed in his memory but not from fear, but from love.
I have the talent to help people. So I have the responsibility to do that.
Alex's spider-sense sharpened, cutting through the hallucinations like a blade.
He opened his eyes.
"I didn't fail," he said, voice steady now. "I'm still here."
Scarecrow fired a dart but Alex moved before it left the chamber.
He dodged, webbed the gun, yanked Scarecrow forward, and slammed him into the floor with enough force to knock the wind out of him.
"Fear doesn't control me," Alex said quietly. "I choose what I do."
Scarecrow went limp.
Nightwing stumbled over, coughing, shaking the gas from his head. He looked at Alex with genuine awe.
"You just….Spider, that was…."
A bolt of lightning tore through the hallway.
Nightwing was lifted off his feet and slammed into the far wall, crumpling to the floor.
"NO!" Alex shouted.
The lights flickered violently.
Footsteps echoed and Alex turned as blue electricity danced across the walls as a figure stepped forward, eyes glowing, skin alive with power.
Max Dillon aka Electro.
Alex's breath hitched. "Max…?"
Electro smiled but there was no warmth in it. "Hey, kid."
The air vibrated with energy.
Alex stepped forward, hands shaking. "You don't have to do this. We can help you."
Max's smile twitched. "You already did help me."
Lightning flared brighter.
"You showed me what it feels like to be powerful."
Alex's eyes burned. "I tried to save you."
Max's voice cracked just for a second. "You couldn't."
He raised his hand and electricity roared.
Alex planted his feet, eyes locked on the man who had once been just lonely, just scared.
"I'm not giving up on you," Alex said.
Max's expression hardened. "Then you're gonna get hurt."
Lightning surged toward Alex and the storm truly began.