Still Defiant! SI-OC [Marvel/DC]

55: Talks

"It seems like a nice place," Lena commented, looking at the cozy café they had arrived at after setting off. Of course, as a newcomer to Smallville, she didn't have many points of reference, so in the end, it was Carol who chose the place halfway along the route.

"It's not bad," Carol replied, and the two of them sat at one of the more secluded tables, near a window with a view of the streets in the town's central plaza.

Then, silence. Lena took a deep breath, lightly tapping the wooden table with her long fingers as she tried not to furrow her brow. It didn't take her long to realize that her savior was not particularly talkative.

Carol had a serious and impassive look, almost uninterested, with blue eyes that, while bright, also conveyed a kind of coldness Lena had only encountered in a few people throughout her life.

Though Lena wasn't shy, meeting Carol's gaze made her hesitate a little about what to say. If she were honest with herself, she wasn't entirely sure why she had sought Carol out. Saying she was grateful seemed like an understatement, but beyond that, they didn't know each other at all. In fact, they hadn't even introduced themselves properly. She only knew Carol's name because it was the one she had given the police when they arrived at the scene and started taking her statement about the incident.

After that... well, though Lex had taken much from her, Lena was still a Luthor and had enough influence—limited as it might be now—to investigate certain things and learn more about the person who had saved her.

The information she obtained certainly contrasted a bit with the person sitting in front of her.

Though they had met once before, Lena had been too distracted at the time to pay attention to the details. Nearly dying tends to make you overlook certain things. But now that she was calmer and her mind clearer, she could take her time to analyze the person in front of her more carefully and notice things she hadn't before.

At the outset of this, she had expected to meet a typical country girl: simple and perhaps a bit rough, maybe even childish in some sense, considering her age and the place where she had grown up.

And while Carol dressed simply, everything else about her clearly contradicted that expectation.

For her part, Carol had noticed Lena's gaze, which made her slightly uncomfortable, though she endured it for the sake of her objective. She needed to get something out of this, but it didn't seem like it would be as straightforward as she had imagined.

Talking so much with Daniel had made her forget, at least a little, that ultimately, she wasn't very good at having conversations with people.

How did Chloe make it look so easy?

"Can I take your order?" The waitress's voice interrupted the silence before it could become truly awkward, making Lena smile and exhale with some relief.

Soon, they both placed their orders and were left alone again. But this time, Lena decided she didn't need any more silence.

"I suppose it must be a bit strange—barely knowing each other, and I suddenly show up at your school and bring you here. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable,"

Carol blinked and then shrugged. Though it was a little creepy, she really had no right to judge anyone when she herself had done questionable things in the past.

"It's not the strangest situation I've ever been in."

Lena raised an eyebrow at that but held back from asking, not wanting to seem too intrusive.

"Well, I'm glad I don't rank as a new milestone in your life, though you've certainly marked an important one in mine."

"For saving you?"

"For saving me," Lena admitted.

"I know I already said thank you, and it might sound redundant, but I want to say it again. I… didn't realize how much I liked being alive until now, and I'm grateful you helped me keep it that way."

"And I guess a free meal is your way of showing it." If Carol could enjoy any kind of food like a normal human, she would have appreciated the gesture more. Unfortunately, her palate was far too sensitive, and this was, in reality, more of an inuisance.

"That, and, well, I don't know anyone else around here, and eating alone feels a little depressing." Lena had never been particularly rich in the friendship department, and now that she thought about it, she realized she hadn't sought out Carol just to thank her again.

"I'm sorry Smallville hasn't given you the best first impression, but it will get better—I promise. That is, if you stay here long enough to see its good side, of course," Carol smiled, hoping she had disguised her question well enough.

"Well, I don't think I have anywhere else to go in the short term, so maybe you could help me see that good side you're talking about."

"Sure." Carol didn't need to think too much to agree.

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"Anything interesting on the horizon?" Daniel snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Natasha approaching. With a simple smile, he turned to look at her, shifting his gaze away from the view of the city.

The meeting had finally ended, and everyone had gone off to do their own things—well, most of them. Tony had started figuring out how to rebuild his tower, and Fury had probably returned to the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters along with Coulson. Daniel had assumed Natasha had gone with them, but it seemed he was wrong.

As for him, he had stayed at Stark Tower, specifically on one of its upper floors, looking out over New York City from the terrace. Normally, he would have flown off to keep saving the day, but he thought the atmosphere was relaxed enough to allow himself a brief break, and so he had drifted into his thoughts for a moment.

"Well, aside from the setting sun, I like watching the streets to make sure there's no trouble,"

Hearing this, Natasha narrowed her eyes, her doubt clearly visible.

"Doesn't seem like you've been paying much attention," she said, pointing to a spot in the distance where the sound of sirens was fading away—a minor robbery with no injuries that Daniel had indeed noticed but chose not to check on since the thief had been easily subdued by a nearby police officer.

"Is something bothering you?"

Of course, the spy could see right through him.

Shrugging, Daniel sighed softly, hesitating for a moment before speaking.

"To be honest, I've got a lot on my mind, and going over all of it could take an entire night—which I doubt either of us has." Taking a brief break was fine, but Daniel still had things to do, so he couldn't stay too long.

And as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and spy, Natasha likely had her own matters and assignments to deal with, so wasting her time wasn't something he wanted either.

Natasha moved to stand beside him, leaning her back against the terrace railing. She glanced at the watch on her wrist for a moment before looking back at him.

"Well, I've got half an hour, so if you want, you can tell me about one of those things."

"I didn't know you were a therapist."

"I'm not, but my job has taught me to listen to people more than you might think, and if that helps you somehow, well, here I am," She sounded quite sincere, but Daniel knew this was probably a way to try and extract more information about him.

Though maybe she genuinely wanted to help him out of goodwill, but he didn't think that option was very likely.

"Well, since you're all ears..." Daniel paused for a moment, pondering his issues before choosing one.

"You could say, hypothetically, that I've been acting a bit like an idiot." That made Natasha raise an intrigued eyebrow.

Daniel scratched his chin, feeling the beginnings of a beard, wondering how to provide more details without saying too much.

"I know this girl who, well, wants to help me, and I haven't been letting her—for reasons I think are valid! But maybe that's bothering her... and I don't know how to fix it." There was more, much more, but of course, giving too many details to a spy was a bad idea. In fact, this whole conversation was a bad idea, but sometimes, bad ideas could lead to good ones—or at least, that's what his brother used to tell him often.

With each new day that passed in this world, Daniel realized how much he had depended on his advice in his moments of doubt.

"Well, that's a more ordinary problem than I was expecting," It was easy to forget that even the most powerful being on the planet could have mundane problems, but little by little, she began to see that Daniel was far more human than anyone might imagine.

"Is that bad?"

"No. If it were something more complicated, I doubt thirty minutes would help," she replied, analyzing the little information he'd shared.

"If you think you're being an idiot, then you already know you're not handling things well but still keep doing it. Is it selective idiocy? I didn't expect that from you, but I guess we all have our moments." If Daniel took anything away from this, it was that she seemed to enjoy calling him an idiot to his face, judging by the faint smile at the corner of her red lips.

"Do you think she's stupid?"

"What?!"

"Clumsy? Incompetent? Inept?"

"No!" Daniel quickly denied, not wanting to find out how many more adjectives she had to say.

"Well, I don't know the whole context, so I can't say much, but unless the problem she wants to help you with involves stopping a meteorite or something like that, and since you don't think she's useless, then why don't you let her do it?"

Maybe he should have given a little more information. Sighing, Daniel leaned against the railing, letting his long cape flow with the wind.

"It's something that could be dangerous. I'm just worried she might get hurt." Of course, not physically—without kryptonite around, he doubted Carol would get hurt anytime soon, unless another Graviton decided to show up.

Natasha remained silent for a moment before speaking, her voice serious yet somewhat melancholic.

"If that's the case, then you should stay away from her completely."

"What?" Seeing his confusion, Natasha thought about her own life before answering.

"I don't know who this girl is, but if what you want is to keep her safe, then you're doing a very bad job. You're Defiant. Think about it for a moment. Do you really believe that anyone who stays by your side will always be safe?"

Daniel couldn't bring himself to say yes, even if he wanted to.

"Maybe it's not exactly the same, but our lives are neither ordinary nor safe. The things we deal with, the enemies you've already made and the ones you'll make in the future—they won't stop to consider your feelings or your concerns." She then pointed to the top of Stark Tower, or at least what was left of it.

"So, if you really want to keep someone safe, then unless that person can defend themselves from what it means to be by your side, it's better to stay away—for their sake. And well, if that person can defend themselves and you still doubt them, then I can only say that, yes, you're definitely being an idiot."

Yes, it seemed she really liked calling him an idiot... The worst part was that she wasn't entirely wrong.

'Carol will never be safe—not just because of me but because of who she is. I thought I could protect her, but in reality, I've just been holding her back, haven't I?' He'd let it get to his head when he decided to make her his responsibility, forgetting that the best way to take care of someone is to teach them to take care of themselves.

If he never let her face problems, she'd never learn how to solve them when he wasn't around.

'I keep treating her like a child, but she stopped being one a long time ago.' At first, it had been easy—a way to ignore her behavior and establish a boundary between them. But as time passed, he realized he was just trying to fool himself, with less and less success.

'I guess... nothing's really changed on that front, huh?' Dealing with women had always been his weakest point. He'd like to go back and blame his mother again, but he knew it was also his fault—he never tried to improve in that area, despite the opportunities he'd had.

Harleen was another example. He should have woken her up a few days ago, but he hadn't. He excused himself by saying he needed more data about her physical condition, but the truth was that he didn't know how to face her—what to say, how to help her, or how to support her.

'How pathetic.' Here he was, trying to be better but being just as much of an idiot as he had been in his previous life.

'Bah, enough self-pity.' Shaking his head, he decided that beating himself up was pointless. He then turned to Natasha, who had remained silent to give him time to think.

"Thanks. You helped me clear up a few things."

"And in under thirty minutes. Maybe I should consider a career change?" She seemed to seriously consider the idea for a moment before shrugging and dismissing it.

"Do you want to talk about something else with the time you have left?"

Daniel chuckled softly before straightening up.

"Maybe another day. For now, I'll go see if our speedy friend is willing to have a meeting." It was better to deal with that soon. Then, he'd talk to Matt—he hadn't forgotten about him—and finally, he'd apologize to Carol... again.

"Well, when you want to talk, make sure to book an appointment. Maybe I can fit you into my schedule."

With their goodbyes said, Daniel lifted off into the air, heading toward Central City, while Natasha stayed behind, watching his silhouette grow smaller and smaller in the distance, her thoughts indecipherable.

She stayed that way for a while until the clock marked the end of the thirty minutes, and she decided it was time to leave.

"Eh... maybe I should have asked him to help me down." Of course, it had to be now that her brain reminded her the building's elevator had been wrecked during the attack, and she needed to descend 90 floors using the stairs.

Her knees were not going to enjoy this.

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Peter was enjoying this way too much.

"Woohoo!" The shout burst from his lungs as his body soared freely through the air, the wind whistling in his ears.

He landed nimbly on the roof of a six-story building and scanned the streets below, childlike joy filling him for a brief moment before he launched himself toward a taller building.

When he decided he might try using his newfound abilities for something more meaningful, he knew he needed to see what his new limits were—to calculate his capabilities.

So, with an old red ski mask over his head and a pair of protective goggles that had seen better days, Peter snuck out without alerting his aunt and uncle and began wandering through the dark alleys of Queens.

He wasn't exactly an expert at testing superhuman abilities, so it took him a few minutes to decide what to do first. Eventually, the memory of waking up that night stuck to the ceiling of his room came to mind. Knowing it had been a mutant spider that bit him and gave him his powers, Peter put two and two together and ended up standing in front of a tall wall, which he proceeded to climb like… well, a spider.

He didn't know exactly how he was able to do it. He was wearing gloves and a pair of running shoes—there was no skin-to-wall contact. Yet, his hands and feet stuck to the bricks as if his body were a magnet near metal.

Some kind of electrostatic attraction? Something like Van der Waals forces? Maybe an ionic bond? He had no idea, but it worked, and unless he consciously wanted to let go, it was incredibly hard to unstick himself. The chunk of brick that remained in his hand after trying to pull away by force was pretty solid proof of that.

Peter experimented a little more, but there wasn't much he could figure out just by climbing walls. So, he ended up scaling a tall building and looking down at the streets below until he worked up the courage to try something else.

That is, jumping.

And what a jump it was.

It only took a slight push to launch his body into the air as if he had springs in his feet. In an instant, he went from the rooftop of one building to the rooftop of another, at least 50 meters away.

Then he kept doing it, over and over, until he began running everywhere, and his body suddenly decided it was now an Olympic gymnast. His jumps turned into elaborate, complex acrobatic maneuvers in midair—moves he was certain were nearly impossible for a normal person to pull off.

He never imagined his body could be this flexible.

The most amazing part was that he felt like he could've kept going all night without needing to rest at all.

His energy, sense of balance, and countless other things seemed to have skyrocketed to the clouds—or maybe even beyond.

Of course, his fun came to an abrupt end when he landed too hard on the edge of a building. The ledge gave way beneath him, and he watched in slow motion as he fell more than eight stories, heading straight toward a very unpleasant meeting with the ground.

There was a faint tingling at the back of his head—something that had been buzzing even before he'd landed—but it had been so subtle that he didn't think it was important. Clearly, he'd been wrong. Not that he had much time to dwell on his mistake, as his full attention was now on how he was going to explain to his aunt and uncle why all his teeth were broken—or worse.

'Now would be a good time to shoot a web out of my ass!' That was probably the strangest and most unpleasant thought he'd had all day.

Luckily, no white, sticky substance shot out of his ass. Instead, his body acted on its own, maneuvering mid-fall and making him land in a crouched position—both legs bent and one hand touching the ground. The earth shook slightly beneath him from the impact.

'That... didn't hurt at all.' Peter blinked in surprise, raising his head to look at the spot he'd fallen from.

Then, a laugh escaped his lips.

Standing up, he brushed off some of the dust his landing had kicked up, preparing to climb back up and continue his nighttime adventure.

Of course, that's when the faint tingling returned, buzzing at the back of his head once more.

'What is this?' He'd felt it before—that time during the East Coast attack—but it had been more intense and almost painful, like an early warning alarm telling him something bad was about to happen.

And although this felt similar, it was also slightly different. He couldn't pinpoint how he knew, but he just knew—something was about to happen. But, like when he fell from that building or when he stopped that purse snatcher earlier in the day, it didn't feel like a warning for him. Instead, it felt more like a general warning about something happening around him.

'This is so confusing.' Trying to make sense of it, even in his own head, made him frown. But if he'd learned anything, it was that you shouldn't make the same mistake twice. He'd ignored the buzzing once and paid for it by falling eight stories. Even though he hadn't been hurt, he could have avoided it entirely if he'd just listened.

Well, now he was going to listen.

Peter weaved through the alleys between buildings, letting his body be guided by an almost mystical instinct.

"Please! I don't have anything else!"

"Don't mess with me! You've gotta have something stashed away!"

Peter stopped when he saw a man cornering another in the shadows, a gun in his hand.

Seeing the pistol made Peter hesitate for half a second, but when the buzzing in his head didn't intensify, he decided to take the risk and move forward.

"Hey!"

His shout caught the assailant's attention. The man turned to face him, bloodshot eyes glaring with a feral aggression.

"Well, you don't look so good. Want me to take you to see a doctor?"

"Don't fuck with me! Who the hell are you, huh?! You know what? Doesn't matter. Empty your damn pockets, or I'll put a new hole in your body!" the mugger barked, though he kept his gun aimed at the man he had pinned.

"Whoa, easy there, man! I was just worried a rat might've bitten you and made you sick. God knows those things get everywhere these days."

As he spoke, Peter continued advancing slowly, his steps cautious and measured.

Maybe he should've come up with a better strategy—a way to disarm the man despite the distance.

He'd need to work on that later.

"Stop coming closer!" Finally, the gun was pointed at him, and Peter didn't know why this felt like a good thing, but since he was trying to be the hero here, he supposed it was a small victory to get the civilian out of immediate danger.

Taking a deep breath, Peter began to consider his options, his sharp eyes analyzing the terrain around him as everything seemed to slow down.

There were still a good ten meters between him and the thief. He wasn't sure if he could cross that distance before the man fired. And while he knew he was tough now, he wasn't confident enough to test whether that toughness could withstand a bullet.

'Think, think.' His eyes darted around until he noticed a rock just a few centimeters from his right foot.

'Maybe… if I hit it at the right angle,' his brain began calculating, sensing the wind on his skin—its direction, speed, and its possible density. Then he considered his own strength. He didn't have many references for that yet, but he had enough thanks to the jumps he'd been making.

Everything happened in an instant. His foot shot out, striking the rock with precision and at the perfect angle, sending it flying swiftly through the air until it struck the hand holding the gun.

"What?—Argh!" The gun clattered to the ground, and the thief howled in pain.

Panic flooded him when he realized he was now unarmed, and he tried to recover the gun, but before he could, Peter was already in front of him. and a fist filling his vision was the last thing he saw before losing consciousness.

'That went better than I expected.' Considering his usual luck, Peter had half-expected to miss the shot. But it seemed his calculations had been right. Being good at math had finally saved the day! If only he could tell his high school teacher about it.

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking at the man who had been mugged. He seemed like an ordinary salaryman who had just gotten off work. Peter wondered how he had ended up in these alleys—any local would know that trying to navigate here at this hour wasn't safe.

"I—uh, yes!"

"Good. I suggest you head to the main street; you'll be safer there." Peter then paused. What was he supposed to do now?

He looked at the unconscious thief. Was he just… supposed to leave him there?

Maybe someone should write a step-by-step guidebook on how to be a hero.

He really needed one right now.

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Note:

New chapter!

Well, things are moving forward. I hope to start the Fantastic Four arc soon—there will be some interesting things there. On the other hand, we're continuing with character building as well as the development of some subplots.

I don't have much more to say about it. I hope you enjoy the chapter, and don't forget to leave a comment!

P.S. I've been looking more closely at Marvel Rivals these days, and I have to say they're doing a great job with the designs of many characters. Ahem, ahem, Susan Storm, ahem, ahem, Psylocke, ahem, ahem, Black Widow.

Unfortunately, my current PC can't run the game very well. I wouldn't have much time to dedicate to it anyway, but I'd still like to try it out properly someday. So, I'll start saving up to buy a good rig this year. Wish me luck!

If you notice any error please point it out so I can correct it.

Remember that You can already find the next chapter of this story on Patreon ( patreon.com/EmmaCruzader ) All the support received is appreciated ;D