It started with a milkshake. 

It was a Friday night. Carmen had finally allowed them to take a break from studying for AP Biology. After a fair amount of wheedling and a healthy amount of bribery (in the form of Eden promising to shout her), Eden at last managed to convince Carmen to let them venture out for something to eat. 

Eden was glad her mother was working: had she been home, the entire jaunt would have been shut down the moment she’d uttered the second syllable of ‘milkshake’. But Mama wasn’t home. Mama was covering someone’s shift at the clinic, meaning that unless Auntie Mar snitched on them (and that would only happen if she caught them sneaking past her windows on the ground floor) they were free to do as they pleased. 

Or – do as Carmen pleased. Because while she wasn’t totally averse to breaking the rules, Carmen was always the final hurdle Eden had to clear when she came up with plans. 

Good thing Eden was an expert Carmen wrangler. A key selling point Bat Burger advertised itself with when they first came onto the scene – you know, besides the whole Gotham themed meals – was that their soft serve machines always worked. The original ad campaign even had a poorly-disguised set of double arches… so poorly-disguised in fact that McDonald’s had sued them for it. 

Joke’s on them though… there was nothing Gotham loved more than an underdog. At least one Gotham McDonald’s restaurant had to shut their doors to escape the city’s wrath. Almost overnight, Bat Burger became a city staple. 

And their milkshakes were good. Not the best around, but they didn’t skimp on the ice cream, even in the Alley (maybe especially in the Alley… no one wanted Crime Alley up in arms about their soft serve… or that’s what Mama said). More importantly, Bat Burger was one of the only milkshake-making restaurants open so late. So, promising to shout Carmen a caramel and peanut butter milkshake was an easy win. 

“Phone, keys, wallet, pepper spray,” Carmen narrated, checking the location of each critical item while Eden waited patiently by the door. She had (almost) all the same items, though Eden preferred her switch blade to pepper spray. Not that she’d ever had to actually use one: her ‘cousin’ Jimmy apparently worked for Hood (or at least Cobb, the old man on second, said he did, but Eden still remembered Jimmy as a pimply teen with a cracking voice, so prejudice left her unconvinced the Red Hood would be interested in hiring someone as uninspiring as Jimmy Bartlett), and he’d once told her the easiest way to keep trouble away was look like you were meant to be out. 

Of course, Jimmy was also a boy, so Eden took his advice with a grain of salt, but so far when she’d ventured out after dark, it had served her well. 

Eden unlocked the door and stepped out, but Carmen paused on the threshold – as she always did. “Do you think we should leave a note?” 

Eden rolled her eyes – as she always did. “We’re fine. Leaving a note’s a rookie mistake. What if we forget to get rid of it when we come back? Ma would kill me.”

Carmen grimaced, but allowed herself to be ushered out and Eden re-locked the door. 

They tramped down the stairs – quietly, quietly tramped – but Eden held Carmen back on the final flight. She held her breath, listening to the soft sounds escaping from Auntie Mar’s (mother to Jimmy) door. The TV was on. That meant Mar was probably dozing. The TV had an insta-kill effect on Auntie Mar… if by ‘kill’, you meant ‘sleep’. 

“Okay,” Eden whispered. “Quiet, like.”

Carmen followed Eden’s lead, creeping with exaggerated slowness down the stairs and then down the short hallway that dissected the two ground floor apartments. The door to freedom had to be swung open fast, since it creaked like a bitch if you did it slow, and then they were free. 

It was misting outside. The kind of half-assed rain that only got you soaked when you got back inside. Cold, too. 

“Damn” Carmen groaned as they set off. She fussed with her hair: she had fine, tights curls that see-sawed between stylish definition and apocalyptic frizz. There was no in-between. “Goddamn, I only washed it this morning!”

“Here–” Eden yanked off her beanie and handed it over. Her thicker hair had its own wave to it, but was the kind that could easily be sorted with a spray of water and a brush. Carmen took the beanie and immediately put it on, shoving her hair up to be covered by the synthetic knit. In thanks, Carmen swapped Eden her scarf. Eden wrapped it around her neck and fluffed it for maximum coverage (her ears got cold easy). 

In order to avoid the (theoretically) beady-eyed surveillance of Auntie Mar, they had to circle around the block the long way to get to Bat Burger, but Eden was happy to stretch her legs. Despite the misting rain, the weather was pleasant for April. No wind, no pouring rain, a cold that didn’t border into freezing and was easily beaten back by a good coat and lively walk. They quizzed each other on Biology as they strolled (and Eden shouldn’t have been surprised when Carmen whipped out the flash cards, but it was also Carmen) and once again, the ‘walk as if you’re meant to be there' trick worked. They arrived at Bat Burger unaccosted. 

As expected, Eden’s hair only soaked itself when they stepped into the restaurant’s heated interior. She grimaced as she ran her fingers through the wet strands, but didn’t begrudge Carmen the loss of her beanie, even if Carmen’s hair pouffed into its semi-regular, voluminous glory the moment she yanked it off her head. 

“Cow,” Eden teased, holding out her lank hair in demonstration. Carmen hip checked her, but gave Eden another grateful smile. 

“Thanks for lending it to me.”

Bat Burger was almost completely empty, as it should be at nine at night. The fluorescent lights beamed with unflattering yellow-white light, hypersaturating the fast food restaurant’s already bright colours. It stank of fry oil and meat and Eden’s mouth had filled with anticipatory saliva the moment they pushed through the doors.  Nevermind that Bat Burger didn't exist when she was little: the place reeked of nostalgia, right down to its sticky tiled floors, primarily late-teen workforce and orchestra of beeps and hisses. 

 Eden ushered Carmen over to a booth and sat her down. It was her shout, after all. Plus, the best seat in the house was the booth mid-way between front doors and kitchen. It gave the best view of the entire restaurant, which meant they were in the prime position to gawk at any other sad sack who chose to come to Bat Burger at half-past nine in the evening. 

Just as advertised, the soft serve machine was in working order. Eden ordered their milkshakes and a serve of plain fries (jokerised fries and ice cream didn’t mix. Eden would know: she’d tried and was sorry for it). To pass the time while their order was made, Eden pulled faces at a straight-faced Carmen. As per their usual game, Eden kept it up until she could get the other girl to crack. A suggestive wiggle of the brows and a salacious look towards the bathroom was nearly enough to make Carmen crack, but Eden was defeated by the disinterested cashier calling out her order. 

She flomped down opposite Carmen with their milkshakes and fries and Carmen swept hers up to take a slurping sip. Eden waited for the incoming brain freeze, and cackled when Carmen’s face inevitably scrunched up with pain. 

“Every time!” she crowed and half dodged Carmen’s answering kick. 

“It’s worth it every time,” Carmen huffed, and this time sipped her drink at a much more sedate pace. “Pass over the fries.”

And then it happened! One moment, Eden was tearing open the bag of fries like a mother mountain lion would a deer for her offspring; the next, her mouth was falling open as the Spider-Man strolled through the doors. 

There was no need to say anything: Eden’s face definitely said it all. Carmen, with way more subtlety than Eden was ever capable of, waited for the object of her shock to walk past, rather than swivel like one of those clown heads at the fair (which totally would've been what Eden would've done in Carmen’s position). Still, when Spider-Man strolled past, Carmen let out an adorable squeak of shock. 

He was… smaller than Eden had thought he’d be. Despite being in Gotham for at least six months, there weren’t a lot of pictures around of Gotham’s only bug-themed vigilante. That wasn’t to say he was a cryptid like the Batgirls were (or Batman). Every day, more and more stories cropped up about something or someone Spider-Man had helped. Much like his neighbour Red Hood, Spider-Man was a presence in the Alley. But even with his growing reputation, both Hood and Spider-Many avoided strong documentation. The message to anyone on the Northside was clear: any pictures or videos out there of either vigilante existed purely because they allowed them to. 

He's hot, was Eden’s second thought. She might have been finding her attentions turning to girls more than boys (something she’d only just recently gotten the guts to confess to Carmen), but she could appreciate the aesthetics of men. Spider-Man had the build of a gymnast: short, strong limbs… fantastic ass. With the exception of the navy, cropped leather jacket and bandoliers reminiscent of Red Robin’s old suit, he was dressed like a gymnast too. Skintight suit, muted red and navy with a black webbing design that was much easier to see under the fluorescent lights than it would have been when he was swinging between buildings. 

I can’t believe he’s just walked in here! Sure, there were stories all over Gotham of the Bats turning up in convenience stores or restaurants, but Eden never thought she’d become one of the exclusive few that could recount such a story. 

“Should we film him?” Carmen breathed. Her wide eyes were firmly glued on Spider-Man’s bum. 

To both girl’s mortification, she wasn't quiet enough. Spider-Man spun on his heel and shot them finger guns. “I’d rather you didn’t, please and thank you!”

“Oh my God!” Carmen squeaked and her dark skin immediately deepened as she flushed.

“We won’t!” Eden promised. Her own stomach had swooped at the callout. 

Spider-Man’s face was hidden behind his full-face mask, but the way his cheeks moved made Eden think he was grinning at them.  “Rule one of any kind of activism, kids: no snitching.”

Eden’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. Instead, she settled for nodding so hard her damp hair flopped off her shoulder and stuck to her cheeks. 

Satisfied they wouldn’t film him, Spider-Man bounded over to the till, where the employee – who was far less awed than Eden and Carmen – had already pulled out a cardboard drinks holder (and ready filled two sodas) and an enormous takeout bag. 

“Thanking you!” Spider-Man tucked the takeout bag under his arm and perfectly balanced the drinks on his other hand like a waiter from those fancy restaurants that Eden had never been to. “You guys had any trouble?”

The employee who’d served him rolled his eyes but he seemed way less disinterested than he had with Eden and Carmen. He shook his head. “Nuthin’.”

Spider-Man hummed, happy to hear it. “I told Hood about the issues you’ve had. He put someone on watch for a while.”

Sounds like something they’d get Jimmy to do, Eden thought, perhaps a bit uncharitably. Maybe he made a really good thug! Probably not, though…

“Give Angie my love–”

“Love!" cried – presumably – Angie from the kitchens. 

“Love!” Spider-Man cried back. “Thanks again!” Then he turned and left, waving at Eden and Carmen as he did so. Somehow, Eden’s arm rose up of its own volition and waved back. 

“Oh God!” Carmen whimpered, and buried her head in her hands the moment Spider-Man left. Eden pet her head comfortingly. 

“Do you think they'll believe us at school?” Eden asked, in between sips of her milkshake. It was chock full of chocolate syrup. Yum. 

“School?” Carmen exclaimed, looking up at Eden with familiar, manic eyes. “Nevermind school! Spider-Man thinks I’m a snitch!” 

“I don’t think that’s what he said, though?”

“It’s absolutely what he said!” Carmen flailed and Eden grabbed her milkshake before it could fall victim to its owner's lamentations. Then her friend looked back at Eden and grabbed her wrists, holding on with all the desperation of that guy drowning in that Titanic movie. “If you tell anyone at school, I’ll… I’ll…”

Blackmail wasn’t Carmen’s specialty. There just wasn't enough mongrel in her for Gorham's sensibilities. Honestly, how she managed to get through most of school without being picked on was a mystery, but it probably had something to do with the army of older brothers at her (theoretical) beck and call. They’d all graduated now, but Eden guessed the reputation remained.

Eden rolled her eyes, taking pity on Carmen. “I won’t tell. Then I’d be a snitch, wouldn’t I?”

The reasoning satisfied Carmen. She let go of Eden’s wrists. Satisfied there’d be no more flailing, her milkshake was safely returned. “Just so long as we’re clear,” she said, leaning back into her seat. 

“Onto more important matters…” Eden peeled the lid off her milkshake. It was time for the fries to play their part. Carmen mirrored her. “Spider-Man said he’d spoken to Red Hood… do you think they’re friends IRL or just ‘work friends’?”

Carmen’s eyes lit up. Milkshake was swapped for phone. “Have you seen those Twitter threads?”

Eden tilted her head. “No?”

“Oh, Eedie.” Carmen’s grin turned to a familiar mania. “You have got to see what some people have been saying.”

It happened again. 

Another productive study session, another late night trip to Bat Burger. A little earlier this time: they’d been working on a class assignment – or Eden was. Carmen only had to do a few final touches to hers because she was an awful person who didn’t understand that assignments were meant to be completed at the last minute, not a week before the due date. Mama was out again – date night with Ashley this time – and not due back until next morning. 

Well-behaved weather, too. An icy, but gentle wind. Clear skies. In a less populous city, that probably would’ve meant they could see some stars, but in Gotham the night was always empty of anything but the North Star, what Eden assumed was Mars (because it was red), and the moon. But that was fine, because in Gotham, there were sometimes things even more exciting than the stars when you chose to look up. 

“Carm!” Eden latched onto Carmen's sleeve and dragged her to a stop beneath the well-shadowed canopy of a convenience store, one of the many that shut early. Several hand-written signs were stuck inside the glass, declaring ‘NO CASH HELD ON PREMISES’. 

“What–?” 

Carmen followed Eden’s pointed finger. There, sitting on the roof of Bat Burger, were two darkened figures. Her surprised exhale billowed from her mouth in a plume of white. 

“Oh my God!”

“I know!” Eden whispered, excitement bubbling away.

“Do you think it’s–”

“Who else would it be?”

“There’s no way we’re that lucky. Twice?”

“Well, somehow we are!”

They were far enough away that Eden figured they’d escape detection. An idea came to her, genius in its originality, dubious in its execution. “We should try and sneak up on them.”

Carmen rounded back on her, appalled. “They’ll kill us!”

“No they won’t.”

“Then I might kill myself. That’s so embarrassing!”

“It’s only embarrassing if we get caught. Haven’t you ever wondered what the capes talk about on their time off? C’mon! They won't suspect us. We’re just a pair of innocent girls, out for a late-night walk for milkshakes!”

“You know, that would be a who~ole lot more believable if you weren’t whispering to each other like you’re about to do something very un-innocent.”

Both girls shrieked. Eden was woman enough to admit it. They spun around to find that Spider-Man had swung across the street to peer under the convenience store awning. They’d become so engrossed in their own conversation they’d never even noticed he’d moved. 

“S-Spider-Man!” Carmen stuttered helpfully. 

“That would be me!” Spider-Man gave them a jaunty wave. “How's it hangin’? What do a couple of teens do on a Friday night?… Is something I would ask because I definitely have no idea what teenagers would do… because I have obviously not been one for a long time.”

“Nothing!”

“Just getting some milkshakes, eh? That wasn’t a euphemism for anything else, then?”

“We don’t do drugs!” Carmen found her voice again at the implication. “We’re straight-A students!”

Well, Carmen was. Eden usually scraped a high B, sometimes an A, but she appreciated the inclusion all the same. And Spider-Man was suitably impressed, clapping in a way that somehow didn’t come across as condescending. Maybe because he was hanging upside down. The bizarre violation of the laws of physics overrode what would have been an otherwise insulting reaction to Carmen’s defence. 

“Stay in school, kids!”

“Obviously!”

Eden winced and grabbed Carmen’s sleeve again, a silent warning to cool it. She was starting to channel Hermione Granger, and Carmen had long ago asked Eden to warn her when she started getting like that. 

“By the way,” Spider-Man continued, “if you wanted to say hi, you know you can just… do that?”

Eden’s cheeks flushed with mortification. “Uhhh.”

“That ain’t how things’re done here, Bitsy.”

More shrieks of surprise, and this time Eden wished the ground would just open up and swallow them whole. No need to leave a gravestone or inscription. Let the world move on without knowing the humiliation of getting sneaked up on by two vigilantes. At different times!

“Aw, you scared them,” said Spider-Man to the Red Hood! (The Red Hood!!!) He’d appeared with just as much stealth as Spider-Man had, this time from behind. The man was tall. Taller even than Jimmy, who was lanky as shit. And he was enormous. Thickly muscled and looming, swallowed by the night, as if even the street lamps didn't want to touch him. Red eyes glowed from the darkened cowl of his hood and what light did hit him, hit the crossed handles of a sword and a crowbar first, strapped to his back. 

“Is this guy botherin’ you?” the Red Hood asked them, and maybe if his voice hadn’t been disfigured by the modulator in his muzzle, they might have noticed the irony in his tone. But with the muzzle, the deep gravel tone was laced with menace instead. In thoughtless unison, they shook their heads and spluttered out defences of Spider-Man. He wasn’t bothering them. They were in fact bothering him. They were totally innocent. There was nothing suspicious happening–

Spider-Man suddenly burst into laughter, and a rattling sigh escaped from Hood. 

“Shut up–”

“I told you you need to cool it with the mod when you’re on the streets!”

“I ain’t gotta do nothin’. That's the whole point, Bitsy.”

“Aww.” Eden could not believe how mocking Spider-Man sounded. That was the Red Hood! Standing six feet away with at least two weapons in easy reach! He had a reputation for a reason; even Eden’s cousin spoke about him with intimidation. “Girls, you hurt his feelings.”

“I’ll be hurtin’ someone’s fucking ass in a second.”

“He’s sooo scary,” Spider-Man stage whispered, and Eden had no idea what was happening. 

“Get your bug-ass down here and I'll show you how scary I can be.”

“Cute.” 

“You goddamn punk!”

Despite the hostility in Hood’s words, Eden thought there might have been amusement there, too. Or maybe she was just reading into things because he hadn't taken out a weapon yet. But Spider-Man was entirely unrepentant. Eden and Carmen’s heads bounced between the two men as they traded barbs, until Eden realised Spider-Man was once again speaking to them. 

“Looks like Hood needs his evening exercise, girls. Gotta let him run after a meal or he gets cranky. Were you two just out for another milkshake-fries combo?”

Carmen elbowed Eden sharply in the ribs when she didn’t respond, too shocked that Spider-Man remembered them. “Uh – yeah? Yes.”

“Been working hard?”

“We were working on an assignment? Che-chemistry.”

“Nice! You need any help? I’m not too bad at the sciences.”

“We’re doing fine on our own,” Carmen said, defensive once again. She always got that way when it seemed like someone was questioning her abilities. It probably had something to do with being the only sister with a long line of brothers. 

Hood made a sound that could have been of approval, could have been disgust. “How’s your English?”

“Not everything is a competition, Hood!” Spider-Man chastised. He tilted his head back to the girls. “He likes to read,” he informed them, derision lacing his tone. 

“I-I like to read,” muttered Carmen, ever the nerd. Hood made another of those funny sounds and she flinched into Eden, though Eden thought it maybe wasn't out of fear, just startlement. 

“Keep it up,” Hood rumbled. “Park Row needs more kids like you.”

Eden temporarily blue-screened, but Carmen squeaked. She began nodding mindlessly. “Y-yessir!”

“Sir,” Spider-Man echoed and Hood pointed up at him accusingly. 

“At least someone here respects me.”

“Makes a change, I guess,”

“Uh,” Eden piped up. Humiliating as it was, she found her hand rising like it would back in elementary school. “Are we free to go?”

“Course,” Hood said. He stepped back against the glass of the convenience store, giving them a clear exit. “Sorry we held you up.” 

“Go, enjoy yourselves!” Spider-Man encouraged with a wave of his hands and– how was he doing that? What was keeping him attached to the awning?

Carmen tugged on Eden's sleeve and they hurried away. Eden found the courage to give a little wave at Red Hood as they stumbled past, and he twitched in surprise. 

“Aww,” Spider-Man cooed. 

“Do you remember the days when you respected me?” they heard Hood growl back. “I do. I miss those days.”

“Pretty sure those days never existed, Hood.”

Then Eden and Carmen were fast-walking around the corner and whatever Hood snarked back was unintelligible. 

The girls got to Bat Burger unaccosted, but any conversation they might have fostered between them was lost. They couldn't stop staring at each other, wide-eyed and disbelieving. Neither uttered a word about the strangeness of their interaction with the Alley's vigilantes. And when they finished their meals and headed home, neither could shake the feeling of being watched by two very strange, but well-meaning men in masks. 

The weekend went uneventfully, except for how Eden couldn’t get over their Friday night. Carmen was equally silent: only a handful of messages were exchanged between them over the two days, and all of it was strictly homework-related. They didn't tell their parents, fully aware of the hysterics that would ensue if either Eden's mother or Carmen's father discovered their precious daughters were ‘wandering’ the Alley after dark. Whatever happened was to remain a strict, unspoken secret between the two of them. At least, that was the impression Eden got about the whole thing. 

But when Monday came and they sat together in maths (Carmen came too late to homeroom for them to talk), that implicit agreement ended. Carmen managed to get them a table by the window; they were a hot commodity, so it was a score, but Carmen’s long legs gave her the advantage. 

Eden collapsed into the aisle seat and flomped onto the table, arms hanging over the laminated edge. Mm. Warm table. The sun came in at the perfect angle during first period. In the cooler months – since the school didn't have enough money to heat the buildings properly – that meant the window seats were the best. 

“So, are we gonna talk about it?”

Carmen didn’t respond, but she did stare at Eden expectantly. She huffed. Make her do all the hard work, fine. 

“That was… weird, right?”

All the tension in Carmen disappeared. “Oh my God, yes!”

“And did you get the feeling they–” Eden cut herself off, still unsure. 

“They what?”

Eden shook her head. “No. It doesn't matter.”

It could just have been banter. Capes were infamous for their quips. Well, except for Batman, but Batman was Batman. Even the newest Robin was known for being a smartass.  

“Eedie!” Carmen insisted, but Eden was saved from having to explain her probably erroneous observation by Mr Diaz ordering Zain – who was always the last through the door and always made a scene about it – to sit down and shut up. Then it was sixty minutes of Carmen taking notes like her life depended on it, while Eden’s attention swung between hyper-concentration and whimsical fancy, the morning sun warm against her cheeks. 

By the end of the lesson, Eden was unsurprised by the little drabble she'd scrawled in the bottom of her page. 

“All right! Pack your books away and stand behind your desks.” 

Eden startled at Mr Diaz’s order. When had it become the end of the lesson? Masked by the scraping of chairs on the cheap linoleum floors, Eden tore off the bottom of the page, folded it up, and shoved it into the pocket of her jeans. 

“Here – the homework.” Carmen pushed over her planner so Eden could take a picture with her cell. Then she shoved it and her books into her bag. She’d been so engrossed in writing by the end, someone had collected the ratty textbooks without her noticing… Damn, she should’ve offered. Mr Diaz gave rewards to the kids that helped pack up. 

“What were you writing?”

Eden shook her head. “I'll tell you later.”

Carmen huffed, but didn't pry further. They split at the door, only having the luck to share STEM subjects together this year, and Eden headed off to AP English with a head full of meetings between two snarky, local heroes. 

“Alright, spill, or I’m hunting through your pockets and finding out for myself,” Carmen announced the moment they got outside. 

It was lunch. Today, the cafeteria featured a congealed and over-baked slab of suspiciously pale mac and cheese, with a side of greyish peas. Carmen shared with Eden her Diamond hot sauce, which did a passable job at concealing the tastelessness, but nothing to hide the Mac and cheese’s paste-like texture. Eden didn’t even bother with the peas. They were hateful spheres of green at the best of times and no amount of hot sauce would put that shit in her mouth. She’d feed them to the gulls instead, which waited with greedy impatience on the picnic table opposite. 

The day was blustery and grey, which kept most of the kids inside, but their relative isolation made Eden confident enough to finally explain herself. 

“Was it me, or did you think they were flirting?” she blurted out, then, suddenly embarrassed, she took a bite of her mac and cheese slice. Ick! Once her teeth got through the leathery top layer, the over-cooked pasta practically dissolved in her mouth. Blergh.

When Carmen decoded Eden's too-fast words, her eyes widened and she let out a loud, “Yes!”

“Wait–” Eden struggled to swallow her mouthful. “What?”

“I thought so too!”

Relief and delight flooded Eden. “You – you did?”

“Yeah!” Carmen was waving her fork around so enthusiastically that a soggy macaroni flew off. It landed on the concrete with a pathetic plat. The gulls were on it immediately, and the girls were temporarily distracted by the squabbling wings and beaks. When the gulls turned their beady attentions on Carmen and Eden, Eden lunged to scare them off. 

Possible attackers suitably intimidated (for now), she turned back to Carmen. “They seemed to know each other really well, didn’t you think?”

“More than that,” Carmen agreed. “It was like they knew each other.”

Eden tilted her head in thought. “You mean like, out of the masks?”

“There’s no way they don’t. Those tweets are totally right: they're way more than work friends.” Carmen shovelled a forkful of hot sauce slathered pasta into her mouth and immediately grimaced. Eden took a bite from her own in solidarity. Euck. 

"... Do you think they're dating?” she asked once she's worked the paste down. 

“They way they were talking to each other? Definitely.”

They fell quiet, each thinking about the kinds of men that had to be behind the masks. Red Hood definitely was the more serious of the two, and he had a well-earned reputation in Gotham. Ruthless to those who deserved it, but he gave a shit about the city, too. Most agreed he was from Crime Alley. Maybe the Bowery. These days, the accents were pretty similar. Some accounts even claimed he’d told them he’d been a street rat. But over the years Hood had come and gone, and his hold over the Northside waxed and waned. Eden didn’t know why that was… maybe he just kept falling out of favour with the Bats and getting run out of the city. 

Spider-Man was newer and lesser-known. But forums said he was friendly, which matched their experience. He was also a meta and crazy strong. Like, hold a car up with one hand kind of strong. But unlike Hood, he preferred to stay out of conflicts, or he sorted them quickly, like he had back at Halloween last year. Lately, people were saying they were seeing him more during the afternoons, doing ‘weirdly nice shit’ like watching over the Alley’s foodbanks and tutoring kids in maths and science. That too, was something she could confirm. No way that wasn’t what Spider-Man had offered to them when they’d told him they’d just finished up a night of studying. 

To Eden’s hormone-riddled brain, the thought of the two men together was like catnip. Nevermind that she thought she liked girls more than boys, she couldn’t erase the image of the two men embracing. Talking softly to each other. Pulling hair. Grasping at muscles. Kissing and – 

“Do you think they’ve kissed?” she blurted out, then winced, glancing around wide eyed even though she knew there was no one close to them (well, no one except the gulls, and who knew what was going through their evil little heads). Her heart was in her throat: Carmen was her best friend, but she was also a newish best friend. They’d only gotten close in high school, thrown into the same homeroom together, bonding over their academics and their feelings of otherness from their peers. While Carmen had been fine with Eden’s confession about liking girls, she couldn’t be sure–

“They’ve totally kissed!” Carmen grinned excitedly, leaning so far over the table the strings of her hoodie fell into her meal. 

Oh. Well. Guess that answered that question. 

“They’re definitely banging,” Carmen went on, and Eden’s cheeks heated as her stomach swooped. Carmen had that look in her eye. The one she got when she was about to go off on a wild tangent. “The way Spidey was sassing Hood? And Hood called him Bitsy. That’s a pet name! No way those two aren’t sleeping together. I bet they’re nasty. I bet they’re–”

Eden rushed to slap her hands over Carmen’s mouth. “Carm!” she hissed, but she couldn’t hide her delight. “We’re in public!”

“Oh pmeesh,” Carm said behind Eden’s hands, and laughing, Eden pulled them away. “Who’s listening? The birds?”

The birds weren’t listening, but they were watching. Eden used her spoon to pick up a few cold peas. She catapulted them away and suddenly the air was full of squawks and whacking wings. They laughed at the gulls’ antics, then returned to their reluctant eating. Delay it any longer and the gulls would take matters into their own hands – or beaks. 

Eden wanted to talk more about the two vigilantes and their speculative love life, but it was too late: there were teens streaming out of the cafeteria now, unappetising meals over, and Eden and Carmen turned their conversation onto other, less tantalising topics. 

Monday, 6:49 PM

ee-dee

do u think they were dating BEFORE Spidey came onto the scene?

Car-Man

Hard to tell.

I could see them doing it both ways.

ee-dee

right? Like I could totally imagine hood getting mad at spidey for stepping on his turf one day

Car-Man

Oooh! Maybe they fought!

Maybe Spidey won! He is stronger than Hood, so it wouldn’t surprise me.

ee-dee

IDK… Spideys strong but hood is a bat… hasn’t batman gone up against like superman and won?? I bet he won.

Car-Man

That’s true…

What if they met BEFORE, though?

Maybe Spider-Man became Spider-Man to protect Hood?

ee-dee

kdfnglbadsfknvlckn

OMGGGGGG YES!!! I love that!!! he was worried about good getting hurt because hes just a squishy human so he became spidey to keep him safe!!!

Car-Man

Spider-Man/Red Hood talesofourown.org/

I HAD to check!

There’s only 13 works, but we’re not alone! 🎉✨

ee-dee

🤯 confession!!!

I may or may not have been writing their first meeting in maths (*/ω＼*)

Car-Man

I KNEW IT!!!

SHARE!!

ee-dee

Ee-Dee shared a file with you! docs.yoohoo.com/

❤️

theres not much there yet but i couldn’t stop myself!!!!

Today, 7:31 PM

Car-Man

I love this so far!

What do you think you’re going to do with them?

ee-dee

I dont knowwwww {{{(>_<)}}} i got stuck there

Car-Man

Maybe they meet again on a building? Maybe Spider-Man seeks out Hood because he wants to get to know him better?

Or he wants to apologise for their first meeting?

ee-dee

Ohhhh I like that! Yeah!

ee-dee

GTG! Dinner!

Car-Man

Bye! See you at school!

ee-dee

💖💖💖

The next day, in homeroom, Carmen came to Eden at her customary time – just barely on time – with that familiar, manic look. Eden braced herself, but couldn’t deny she was excited to learn whatever Carmen had to say. Things were always fun when Carmen turned up with that expression. Well, except when it had to do with school and studying… 

“So, I might have stayed up all night thinking about this,” Carmen confessed the moment she sat down. Eden waited expectantly for the gold that was about to be delivered. 

And sure enough, Carmen did not disappoint. She ripped a notebook from her backpack – after some minor cursing when the ring bindings got stuck in the zipper – and slapped it on the desk between them. 

“Behold,”  she declared. “Your plot.”

Excited, Eden scooched it over and was delighted to discover the chaos of Post Its inside, the complete anathema of Carmen's usually meticulous notes. At least her handwriting was still in its standard neat cursive with the little circles above the i’s. But some of the notes had been moved so many times they’d begun to lose their stickiness and the corners were peeling up, or crushed after Carmen had closed the notebook. 

“Alright folks,”  Mrs Knight said, slouching back in her stolen science stool (the school didn’t have enough money for new office chairs apparently, and like hell was Mrs K spending her own money to buy herself one). Her left foot bounced, crossed over her right as she lazily demanded the class’s attention. “Today, Deputy Principal Santistevan has asked that we run through the rogue drills again. And by asked, I mean demanded, so put your crap away, because I will be ‘quizzing’ you about this.”

Reluctantly, Eden closed the notebook. Mrs K was pretty okay, but she had a precedent of reading student’s notes to the class and Eden was unwilling to jeopardise her status as a nerd-adjacent nobody (a far cry better than ‘nerd-adjacent loser’), even for fanfiction. 

“We can go through it at lunch?” she whispered to Carmen as the other girl took the notebook back and slipped it into her backpack as if it were illicit drugs. “The library?”

The weather was better today, which meant the tables outside would be occupied. On those days – when it wasn’t summer – they’d hide in the school’s mysteriously well furnished library (seriously, for a school that couldn't afford to stay heated all day, its library was weirdly well stocked. Modern and older classics, fiction from a stunning array of writers, and a set of encyclopaedias that were so beautifully new, Eden thought most students were too afraid to touch them). 

Eden didn't share any classes with Carmen until after lunch, so she remained on tenterhooks throughout English and social sciences. She lay in wait for Carm in their favourite nook, tucked away in the far corner of the non-fiction section. Surrounded by books on modern history, Carmen at last shared with Eden her masterpiece. 

>

Thursday, 8:42 PM

Car-Man

What do you think their ship name would be?

ee-dee

hasnt anyone given it one yet?

Car-Man

Not that I saw.

And I may have read almost everything last night. (*/ω＼*)

ee-dee

SO THAT WAS WHY YOU WERE SO TIRED TODAY

Car-Man

Yeah. RIP sleep schedule ᕦ⁠(⁠ò⁠_⁠ó⁠ˇ⁠)⁠ᕤ

Rosewood Extinction talesofourown.org/

This one is soooo good! I'm still reading it, though.

ee-dee

I'll check it out, ty!

Idk what it would be called… hoodedspider? Redspider?

LOL Redman

😂

Car-Man

Spideyhood?

ee-dee

YESYESYESYESSSSS THAT PERFECT

Another Friday night, another ‘chance’ visit that was so unlikely Eden was starting to wonder if chance had anything to do with it at all. They were coming back from Bat Burger this time, armed with half-drunk milkshakes and the standard sense of invincibility that came to even the least confident of teenagers. 

“I just think it would be cool, yannow?” Eden’s hands were waving around with more enthusiasm than a 10 PM walk at night really merited, melted milkshake sloshing dangerously. But she was in the zone, gushing about a headcanon she’d cooked up on her walk home yesterday. “What if Spider-Man really is a spider man. Maybe he hides his extra legs so people don’t get freaked out!”

“I suppose… it could explain the full face mask,” Carmen mused, sipping at her shake. 

“Do you think he has, like, fangs? Is he poison – no, venomous?” 

“How could he even talk with them?” Carmen had gone as a vampire to last year’s post-Halloween party at Eden’s cousin’s house (her real cousin, not whatever Jimmy qualified as). She'd lasted thirty minutes with fake fangs stuck to her canines, before she got the shits and removed them herself. The experience, she later claimed, gave her a newfound appreciation of the actors in all of those vampire shows. “You heard him. There’s no way he’s got fangs.”

“I guess…” Eden wasn’t about to dismiss the idea altogether. Maybe you could get used to them? Like retainers. “It’d be cool, though. And it’s not as if we’re really aiming for realism, right?”

“I guess…” Carmen kicked a can and it tumbled off the sidewalk and underneath a parked car. “I think…”

Eden waited patiently when Carmen trailed off again. 

“I think all of… that would make him feel pretty alone. Like he doesn’t belong among normal people.”

“Damn,” Eden whistled, but she agreed with Carmen’s observation. “That’s dark.”

“That’s life, isn’t it?”  

“... Yeah.” 

In a way, it was how Eden felt, when she thought of how she thought about girls. Like she was wrong. Like the way she felt wasn’t allowed and had to be kept a secret from everyone, even her own ma. Then she’d give herself a little mental shake and force herself to think positively – or at least neutrally. It was 2017, for Pete’s sake! Eden was allowed to be… whatever she was. Whatever she would be. 

“I think I want to explore that,” she said simply, instead of blurting any of those feelings out onto the sidewalk. 

Carmen hummed in agreement. “Would it make him more or less willing to make friends?” 

The Spider-Man they’d met had been lively and outgoing. Ma would even have said he was a smartass. But that didn’t mean he was willing to actually make friends. At least, if he was anything like Keven, her eighth grade class clown, who in a fit of uncharacteristic honesty and maturity, once confessed to playing dumb in order to hide how he really felt about himself. It had been an eye-opening confession… Eden's sympathy lasted as long as it took for him to play the clown again, when two days later he tipped her pencil case all over the floor. 

“Maybe it would–” Carmen broke off and stopped, grabbing Eden’s arm as she did so. “Did you hear that?”

Breath held tight in her chest, Eden listened carefully. 

“...mon, kid! … on't be a…!” 

The girls exchanged wide-eyed stares. The faintest of hissing reached them, like air escaping from Mama’s pressure cooker. 

“What is that?” Carmen whispered. 

“I don't know!” Eden tugged on her friend’s arm, yanking her towards the noise and Carmen softly yelped. 

“Eedie, what the hell!”

“Let’s check it out. What if it’s dangerous?”

“Exactly! What if it’s dangerous?!”

“Then we’ve a moral duty to learn what it is. Do you want people’s lives on your hands?”

“It'd ‘blood on your hands’ and no! I don't want that! I also don't want our blood on my hands!”

“It's our moral prerogative!" 

For all her big, bold words, Eden was as scared as Carmen looked. Her heartbeat rabbited in her chest and a terrified nausea had wrapped its insidious fingers around her throat. Increasingly disastrous scenarios ran through her head: maybe it was someone’s tires getting slashed (Eden had never seen it happen before, maybe that was what it sounded like!); maybe it was a gas leak and the street would have to be evacuated; or maybe it was the Scarecrow or Joker, escaped from Arkham and the rogue had managed to suppress the city’s emergency alerts again. 

But then Eden thought of the Robins, who somehow found the courage to fight and help – even the untrained ones running around a few years ago – and knew investigating was the least that she could do. 

Turned out, they needn’t have bothered. What they saw when they crept up, with all the stealth their clompy boots could muster, and peered around the corner of a lowrise apartment building, was a half-full parking lot and two figures loitering by the heavily tagged side of an out-building. One was dressed in very familiar red and black. 

“Ohhh my God!” Carmen breathed, and even in the soft profanity, Eden could hear her relief. Even though her pulse was still sky high, Eden shared the feeling. 

They watched, wide-eyed, as Red Hood cuffed the equally hooded person beside him upside the head. Their backs were to Eden and Carmen, turned towards the building. It was probably a shed for maintenance, but the layers of graffiti suggested it wasn't well used. 

“A bitta flair, kid!” Hood drawled. “You wanna make your mark? You gotta commit. Get the curve in – watch your hand control!” 

The ‘kid’ he was schooling on the finer arts of graffiti complied, lifting their arm and Eden realised he was using a spray can to create the shaky image of a rose. 

Hood tutted – tutted! – and held out his hand. “Gimme the white.”

The kid hesitated, but eventually stooped down and plucked another can out of the bag at their feet. 

“You get the neon effect like this.” 

And Hood demonstrated. Giving the can a good rattling shake, he carved out his shape. Then he went over it again in red, this time holding the nozzle further from the shed wall to get a dispersed effect. 

“The orange,” he commanded, and his tutee meekly handed it over. With his opposite hand, Hood went in with a sharper line over the diffused red. He came back in, even closer, even faster, to get a thin concentration of white against the orange. The effect was instantaneous: it really looked like there was a neon sign plastered over the brickwork.

He'd drawn a crossed pair of flaming swords. 

Eden was impressed.  Who knew Hood knew his way around a spray can too?

“Now, you try,” Hood commanded, and handed back the white. 

With a trepidation that was clear even to Eden and Carmen, even from across the parking lot, the would-be tagger did as they were told. Their strokes weren’t as convinced as Hood's ere, but his demonstration had the intended effect. 

Eden stifled a giggle as she realised what the ‘kid’ was painting. 

It was a spider. Heavily stylised, but reminiscent of the symbol on Spider-Man’s chest (and embroidered on the back of his jacket). 

Hood stiffened as he realised what they were doing. “Really?” 

“He’s cool, man!” the ‘kid’ retorted, any fear he might have had for Red Hood probably lost sometime around him giving an impromptu lesson on How to Graffiti Right™. And Eden would know: she felt exactly the same way. Hard to sustain the intimidation and fear when said source of intimidation and fear was apparently happy to teach you how to deface private property. 

“It’s my turf,” Hood growled. 

“If that’s really true, then why do I see him even more than you?” 

Hood raised his hand as if to scrub his face, only realising at the last minute that he was wearing a mask. Eden clamped her hand to her mouth to stop herself from laughing. 

“I’ll give you a pass ‘cause you’re new here, but he’s here with my permission, kid.”

The graffitier stiffened. Took a little step back. “How you know I’m new?”

“Kid, you’ve got ‘New Yorker' written all over yer voice. Do yerself a favour and lose it – at least at school–” 

There was a wheeling screech of wheels, and the pattering of gunshots. 

“Fuckssake,” Hood sighed, then pointed at the kid. “Get to bed.” Then he wheeled around and pointed directly at Eden and Carmen’s hiding place. “You lot, too! Get the fuck home.”

The kid yelped, and with the jib now up, Eden and Carmen reluctantly revealed themselves (more like: Eden dragged Carmen out from their hiding spot). 

Hood tilted his head as he studied them. Then he sighed. “You two again.”

“Us again!” Eden announced. She put on her best and most obnoxious face, shaking the remnants of her milkshake in hello. Fake it ‘til you make it. The graffitier was shorter than all of them and rugged up, scarf right up over his nose. It was all very Not Suspicious. Though the rest of his face was hidden by his hoodie, Eden thought he might be black. She waved at him gleefully. “It’s Milkshake and Study Friday.”

“We’ve literally never called it that in our lives!” Carmen hissed. 

“Yeah, ‘cause I only just came up with it. But it’s totally our thing.”

A resigned squeak escaped Carmen. “Ugh. I hate that you’re right.”

Hood’s head tilted away from them. Then he sighed and tapped his ear. “Of course you did,” he said, clearly not talking to them anymore. “I’m tied up with some delinquent nerds. I’ll get to you when I take ‘em home.”

Eden pursed her lips, unsure if it was a good thing or not to get a personal escort by the Red Hood. The feminist-slash-teen girl in her bristled at the presumption, but also, the fangirl who’d been scribbling fantasies about Hood and Spider-Man in her free time practically squealed at the opportunity. 

“Was that Spider-Man?” she asked as Hood said something too soft to hear to his invisible companion. Even with the masks, she knew he was frowning. 

“It wasn’t Spider-Man,” Hood said quickly. Too quickly. 

“You were talking to Spider-Man?” the graffitier asked, unfortunate New Yorker accent bright with excitement. He hauled his hurriedly packed bag over his shoulder and the contents clinked conspicuously. “Can I say hi?”

“Absolutely not,” Hood said flatly. He began walking, forcing the three teens to follow. “Because it was not Spider-Man.”

“Sounds like something someone speaking to Spider–Man would say,” Eden stage whispered to their new, hooded companion. She fished her bag of now very cold, half eaten fries from under her arm and rattled them in front of the kid. “You hungry? Want some fries?”

If his accent hadn’t given him away, the eagerness with which he accepted the fries certainly would have done it. Both Carmen and Hood sighed in exasperation at the sight, only for the former (and maaybe the latter) to startle at their shared despair. 

“Thanks!” He pulled down his scarf, apparently having decided he was in safe company (sweet not-Gotham child), and shoved a handful of icy fries into his mouth. He was young – younger than Eden. Maybe only thirteen. A baby. 

A hungry baby. Wow. 

“I’m Eden,” she told him, and sipped the remnants of her shake. “That’s Carmen.”

“Miles,” the boy said around a mouthful of fries. He looked like a chipmunk. 

“Jesus Christ,” Hood muttered. “Get some stranger danger, would ya, kid?”

“But you’re safe,” Miles said, and somehow had the audacity to sound confused. 

“I’m literally carryin’ a damn sword on my back!”

“Sure, but you showed me something new,” Miles shot back, dismissive as if that single action was enough to decide that Hood was a Safe Adult. 

Giving him the lay down would be too much. Girl, don’t do it. 

Eden did it anyway. She slung an arm over Miles’ shoulder. “Miles, my man. Gotham’s not New Yawk–” Miles grimaced at her over exaggerated accent. “Playing it too friendly ends up with you dragged into the Free Candy Van. You gotta work out how to make people want to stay away.”

“Like, the ‘Don’t fuck with me’ face?”

Eden didn’t know what that was, but assumed the name was self-explanatory. “Sure. Show me what ya got.”

And Miles showed them what he got. It was…. 

“Augh, so cute,” Eden sighed. “How have you survived this long?”

“Hey!” Miles wiggled away from her, waving the almost empty bag of fries at her. “I can be scary!”

“Can you be scary and a fast walker?” Hood asked. “I don’t have all night to play escort.”

“You don’t have to spend any time playing escort,” Eden noted, immediately forgetting about her desire to go information fishing. “We can walk ourselves home. We’re armed.”

"Are you?” Miles was fascinated by the admission. 

“Sure.” Eden pulled out her switch blade – thank-you Jimmy! – then hid it back in her jacket. “It pays to have something to defend yourself with, around here.”

“You even know how to use that thing?” Hood asked. 

“My cousin showed me a few moves… and his mum showed me how to make it weird.” 

Carmen, who’d been pretty quiet up until now, giggled. She knew what Eden meant. Auntie Mar had made them bellow and flail, getting low and stomping their feet like they were New Zealanders performing in the Rugby Cup. They felt like absolute lunatics, but Jimmy had hightailed it as soon as his mum started grunting, so Eden knew it was an excellent avoidance tactic. 

Hood hummed like he agreed. “Smart lady…. This your apartment?”

Eden’s footsteps halted. Sure enough, they were outside her apartment building. She rounded on Hood, delighted and accusing. 

“I knew you guys were following us!”

“... Call us a pair of concerned citizens.”

“Can I send my own Bat Signal into the sky? Or – no! A Spider Signal!”

“You may not.” Hood gestured to the steps. “Now get in, before I announce you in.”

That could not be allowed to happen. Auntie Mar would kill them, then she'd resurrect them for Ma to do it all over again. “Yessir.”

Meekly – kinda – Eden and Carmen fled to the door and Eden fumbled with her keys. By the time she turned back around to say goodbye, Hood and Miles were already halfway down the street. 

Rude. 

Saturday, 11:09 AM

ee-dee

do u think its a biit weird all this

Car-Man

What?

ee-dee

Us planning to write a fanfic about two real people who might some day actuallly stumble across what we’ve done?

Car-Man

Well.

when you put it like that

It's definitely weird.

But it’s like Mrs K said.

We’re teenagers.

We're allowed to be weirdo freaks.

I figure it’s our God given right.

ee-dee

I love you 😍💛💛💛💛 Let’s be unhinged freaks forever and ever

Car-Man

👵🏼💍🧓🏿

“Hey, Jimmy.”

“Jesus!” her ‘cousin’ whisper-shrieked, half falling against his front door in surprise. 

Eden fought back a grin. She'd been lying in wait, hidden in the shadows beneath the apartment’s stairwell for the last twenty minutes. For someone who still lived with his mom in Eden’s building, he was a weirdly tough guy to get hold of. She'd been trying to talk to him for the past week (without either of their mama's notice) and only in the last two days had been able to pin down the time he'd get home… only to be thwarted by their mothers. Bad news for whatever training the Red Hood gave to his goons though… they were no match for a teen girl determined to write semi-accurate fanfiction about them. 

“Just Eden,” she drawled and Jimmy groaned as he straightened. “I should've thought working for Hood would’ve toughened you up.” 

“Apparently not from freaky teen girls,” he snarked back. “The hell you want, snake-face?”

Eden held her tongue, and it was definitely because she was trying to be the bigger person by not slapping back at the outdated nickname. Definitely that, and not her fear of somehow altering either of their mothers to her intelligence gathering conversation (and seriously, where did Jimmy find the balls to join the Hood’s gang when he had Auntie Mar as a mother?! Eden might think he was an idiot, but she had to respect the chutzpah). 

“The shit Cobb’s been saying true? Are you part of Hood’s gang?”

Cobb was the grumpy old man on second who somehow, despite being almost a complete recluse, seemed to know everything about everyone in the building. Mama suspected there was something meta about him, but Eden just thought it was the natural conclusion of someone stuck at home all day. What else were you going to do when you barely left your apartment, but stick your nose into everyone's business?

Predictably, Jimmy gaped and jumped away from his door. “Don’t go saying that shit so loud!” he hissed, then glanced nervously back at the door like he might somehow summon his mother. “And you need to keep away from that mad bat! He's a kook!”

“I’ll stop buttering Cobb up when he stops gossiping about any old thing,” she hissed straight back, protective of the old man. He'd had a tough life: she didn’t blame him for wanting to stay at home when he could. “I can’t believe you joined a gang!”

“Shhh!” He clapped his hand over her mouth. “You don’t get it, you little bookworm! You gotta future – you can get outta here! There’s fuck all out there for someone who barely scraped themselves a diploma. And Hood’s is the only decent gang out there! He actually gives a shit!”

Eden held back her grin of satisfaction. Poor Jimmy, he had no idea how easy he was to play. Hopefully, Hood was more aware or she'd be concerned about the welfare of his ‘business’. 

“What is he like? Have you met him?”

“Of course I have!” and there might have been a defensive undertone to Jimmy’s words, but Eden was willing to give her cousin the benefit of the doubt. She bet everyone who knew he was in Hood’s gang asked him that. He was probably just sick of being asked. 

“Is he friendly? Funny?”

“Funny?” Jimmy scoffed. “Hell no! Guy can’t take a joke for shit. Some of the guys say he ain't that square, but if he ain't, he keeps it for his inners.”

“Inners?”

“Yannow–” he waved his hand dismissively. “The higher ups.”

She nodded. So he saves his wit for his equals. It made sense. Like the teachers at school. She knew Mr Thompson had a sense of humour because she’d heard him gossip with the librarian, Mr Garcia, but that didn’t mean he ever let out a smile in chemistry to anyone under eighteen. 

Eden wisely – kindly – kept the comparison to herself. Jimmy wouldn’t appreciate it.  

“Is he a good boss?” 

“Sure.” Jimmy, perhaps resigning himself to the conversation, sat himself down on the stairs, his lanky legs sprawled over the concrete. Eden joined him. He smelled vaguely of weed. “Pretty understanding, makes sure you know what yer doin’. Doesn’t go blaming you if shit goes wrong – unless it really is your fault. Then he's fuckin’ terrifying. But he cares–” Jimmy leaned forwards, staring at her intently, eagerly. “Eedie, you don't know half the shit he's got his fingers in, but it's all for the Alley. fuckin’ – blows my goddamn mind. The guy’s playin’ 4-D chess and no one in Gotham knows it!”

So. Apparently Jimmy was very impressed by Red Hood. Eden promised herself to never let anyone know just how much Jimmy was telling her. He'd be her secret, inside source. Her unknowing, secret inside source. 

Out of a desire to protect her new anonymous source, Eden changed the subject. “What about Spider-Man?”

Somehow, Jimmy brightened even further. “Spidey? Love that guy. He drops us kit sometimes.”

“Kit? Like what?”

“Oh! He brought this thing in a couple months back! Called it an air fryer – fuck, it’s so good. Makes the best chicken nuggets, barely any oil!”

“... Spider-Man brings you guys kitchen appliances?”

Jimmy looked at her as if Eden was the idiot in this conversation. “What did you expect him to bring?”

“I dunno… weapons?”

“Naw. Spidey’s really not into guns and shit. Real goodie-goodie. A shame too. He'd make us some sick gear.”

“If he’s not into guns, why’s he hang around Hood?”

“Oh, that’s ‘cause–” Jimmy broke off and far too late, he got suspicious. Damn. “Why you asking all these questions, anyway?”

“Oh, you know,” she shrugged as if Jimmy knew (he did not), “just girly things. A friend at school has a thing for bad boys. Kept going on and on about Hood and I was wondering what all the fuss was.” 

“She should get better taste,” came Jimmy’s immediate reply, only to blanch as he realised what he’d implied. “Not that I'm saying Hood isn’t – he is! – fuck, I just mean – he’s just too old! What I meant was – you gotta do better than a ‘bad boy’. They just get girl’s pregnant and fuck off for the hard work.”

His face darkened the more he spoke. Eden shared the sentiment. Both of them had mothers who’d fallen in with ‘bad boys’ (‘Too many boys like that when I was your age,’ Mama once said, sounding so world-weary that it had scared Eden. ‘Too many dumb girls thinkin’ the scraps was all they’d ever get, too.’ Then she'd hauled Eden into a soul-cracking hug and whispered that Eden’s first smile had been worth more than all her daddy’s smiles combined). Probably why their mamas were so close. 

Lucky for Eden, then, that it seemed there was little chance of a boy ever getting her pregnant. She pulled Jimmy into a hug – he kinda looked like he needed it. “Thanks, Jimmy,” she said. “You deserve better, too.”

Was it Eden, or did Jimmy’s laughter sound wet? She didn’t say anything about it when they parted, even if his eyes were a little red-rimmed. 

“I’m tryin’. We're all tryin’.”

Eden grinned. “Things are already better than they used to be. Everyone says so. I know our ma’s wouldn’t be happy with who you’ve got yourself mixed up with,” Jimmy winced at the reminder, “but I know you aren’t in it for the gangster shit.”

“Naw.” Jimmy shook his head so hair his dreads slapped against his forehead. “Hood saved me once from doin’ some real stupid shit. Taught me about payin’ it forwards. An’ that’s what I’m gonna do.”

Still smiling, she punched his shoulder lightly. “Pay it forward, huh? I like the sound of that.”  

Footsteps nearing Jimmy’s apartment door had them freezing, and in unison they looked with dread as the lock scraped open and Auntie Mar stood in the doorway, scowling at them. 

“The fuck are you two out here for?” she growled and Jimmy practically quailed. He might’ve joined Hood’s posse, but he'd always be scared of Auntie Mar. 

“We, uh–”

“I was asking him some questions for my social sciences project. I want to know what it’s like for young people in the Alley to get a job,” Eden piped up, taking pity on the poor idiot. And to corroborate her story, she held up her cell. “I’ve been recording his answers.”

Jimmy startled like the poor, sweet idiot he was, though he was smart enough not to blurt out something inane like ‘you were?’  Instead he nodded vigorously. 

Mar hrmmed like she didn’t fully believe them. Joke was on her though, Eden really did have a social sciences project… she just hadn’t got around to conducting any research yet… Jimmy would actually be the perfect entry for it. 

“It’s too late,” Mar said, and waved up the stairs. “Get to bed, baby. As for you–” Jimmy cringed under her stern glare. Eden made her escape before Auntie Mar decided to escort her upstairs herself. Sorry Jimmy. “What the hell are you doin’ that’s gotta keep you out so late?”

“I told you, Ma,” Jimmy’s whining response echoed up the stairs after Eden, “Work’s got me on the late shift!”

Then Eden was out of earshot, but definitely not out of ideas.  

“Okay, so hear me out.” 

Eden was bursting with nerves. The idea had come to her as a stroke of pure brilliance last night in the shower – as so many brilliant thoughts tend to. She’d clasped to the idea with desperate fervour as she rinsed the conditioner from her hair, and was wildly grateful when the inspiration remained for long enough for her to towel her hands dry and write it down in her phone, water still dripping onto the tiles. 

But… just because Eden thought it was a great idea didn't mean her partner in crime would. Once again, Eden found herself doubting her best friend’s tastes in fanfiction: not as to whether or not they were good, but whether or not she shared the same interests as Eden herself. 

Carmen glanced up from her chemistry work. They were in the library once again, but it was the end of the day and the place was barely occupied. Not for the first time, Eden wondered where the school got the money to keep the library open after hours. The one time she’d asked their librarian about it, Mr Garcia merely winked and told her not to worry about it. 

Eden didn’t ask again. In Gotham, ‘Don’t worry about it’ was generally code for ‘there’s probably something illegal going on here, so you should look the other way’. 

As the silence grew, Eden questioning herself and her own judgment, Carmen’s expectant uplift of her brows became increasingly impatient. Feeling brave, Eden pushed herself to finish off her train of thought. 

“Spideyhood, but make it Omegaverse.”

A breathless silence reigned between them. Then Carmen breathed out, set her highlighter down, and sat back in her chair. “I’m listening.”

The relief was indescribable. She’d not been shot down! Eden couldn’t stop her giddy grin, and she leaned across the table, eager to get her ideas across as quickly as possible. 

“So, I don't think it'd really affect the story, except to – I dunno – add a bit of spice?”

“Spice…” Carmen’s brows sank into a thoughtful frown. “I don't know if I wanna make it spicy… I’ve never even kissed a boy!”

Eden's brain fizzled a second at the mention of Carmen and boys and kissing, but set itself right again fairly quickly. “Not like that!” she agreed. “Not that kinda spicy. More like… texture? You know, something to give the story more – euck – pizzazz.”

Carmen’s frown deepened, this time with hurt. “You don't think my plot has enough pizzazz?”

“No!” Eden hurried to make amends. “It does – it totally does! The two of them butting heads, only to be forced to work a case together? It's a classic for a reason! I love it! Seriously, I can’t wait to write it! I just think… we could do even more.” 

Carmen was silent for a long time and Eden sweated with anxiety. Was she going to be shut down after all? Working with Carmen on something creative instead of academics was a dream come true! If she had to, she’d save the omegaverse brainworm for another fic, but why not kill two robins with one stone? 

But at last, Carmen nodded. “Okay. Lay it on me.” Eden quietly whooped with glee. “How do you think it’d play out?”

“Right!” Eden scrambled through her bag for her phone, pulling up her notes app eagerly. “So, picture this: Hood is an omega, and–”

“Hold up,” Carmen interrupted. She looked affronted. “Hood’s the omega?”

Eden blinked in surprise at the disbelief in Carmen’s voice. “Well… yeah?”

“Hood,” Carmen iterated. “The guy with biceps as big as my head.” 

“Uhm…” Something had gone wrong here. Eden bit her lip, stomach squirming all over again. “It just… it makes sense?”

“In what way?” Carmen scoffed. “There’s no way he’s the bottom! He’s massive. It would be ridiculous!”

“But he’s the–”

“Eden, you’re being an idiot!” Eden blanched, but Carmen was on a roll and didn't notice. “If anyone’s the bottom, it’s Spider-Man. He’s got to be the omega!”

You need to remove yourself. 

Eyes burning, Eden pushed herself away from the table. Carmen startled, as if just realising that she’d been hurtful. 

“Eedie, hey–”

“No,” Eden cut her off and hated the way her voice wobbled. Idiot! Clumsily, she gathered up her stuff, shoving it all into her backpack without regard for crushed pages or the pens and highlighters that erupted from her still-open pencil case. At least they ended up in the bag and not the floor. Having to stoop down and pick them off the ancient carpet might have been the final humiliation. 

“Eedie–”

“I’ll see you on Monday,” she said, straightening and slinging her bag over her shoulder. 

“But what about study and milk–?”

“Not tonight.” 

Eden twisted on her foot and marched stiffly out of the library, Carmen still calling out for her. 

Her eyes prickled hotly, but luckily tears didn’t fall as Eden left the school grounds. She tried not to read into all the reasons why Carmen didn’t chase after her and was unable to tell if she was grateful or resentful of that fact. 

Radio silence reigned over the weekend. The insecurities grew. Time and time again, Eden gravitated towards her phone, thinking of messaging Carmen– 

But no. Carmen was the one who’d been unreasonable. It was her job to do something about it, not Eden. 

She put the phone down and tried not to think about what disastrous turns their friendship might take from something as stupid as who would be the omega in a Gotham vigilante RPF story. 

To Eden’s surprise, Carmen was waiting for her by the school gates on Monday morning. 

How early had she forced herself to get up so she could beat Eden to school? She’d at least had to have caught the earlier bus, which Eden knew came an hour before the one she usually took. 

Eden’s steps slowed to a stop as she reached Carmen. 

Carmen looked… ragged. Her hair was in its disaster state, a cloud of dark frizz haloing her head, and her clothes were less put together than usual. Flared jeans worn down right at the hem. A stark white toothpaste stain dripped right underneath the collar of her black sweater. Her best friend was the exact kind of mess that Eden felt about herself. 

“... Hey–”

“I’m sorry!”

Eden pressed her lips together and didn’t say anything more, but inside, the relief was so strong her eyes burned all over again. 

“I didn’t mean to stomp all over your ideas!” Carmen rushed to say, but there was a practiced element to her speech. Had she rehearsed it? Eden bet she rehearsed it. “That was mean of me. I think I was feeling defensive, because it felt like you were attacking my story–”

“That wasn’t what I was trying to do at all–!”

“I know! I’m just – you know I’m a control freak.”

Eden did know. She’d done enough group assignments with Carmen to realise just how possessive she got about ‘her ideas’, only… “I thought we were working on this together. It was our idea.”

“Yeah. It was. So, I’m sorry. That was shitty of me.” Carmen looked away, embarrassed. Was it because of the apology, or because they were in open view of everyone? Kids streamed past them, tucked away to the left of the school gates. Eden didn’t need to wait long for an answer as Carmen stepped closer and lowered her voice, “And… the more I thought about it…” Carmen dug her fingers into her hair, which explained the mess it was in. “The more I realised that it wasn’t very feminist of me.”

Eden tilted her head. “... Feminist?”

Carmen’s cheeks were darkening. It was honestly kind of cute. “I mean… Thinking that the bigger guy had to be the top, and the smaller guy had to be the bottom? Kind of a boring stereotype…”

“Oh.” Eden’s eyes widened and her own face heated. They were in the open air, for anyone to hear them! But Carmen did have a point. It was the stereotype, in the odd yaoi book she’d got a hold of over the years. Somehow, even in stories with two men, one of them had to play the girl's role…

“Like, fuck gender norms, right?” Carmen continued. “Who’s to really say Hood couldn't be an omega? So what if he’s built like a Dorito?” She poorly stifled a giggle, cheeks darkening further at the scandalous words. “He could still be submissive and breedable, right?”

Eden cackled, hurts practically forgotten, now. “Right?” she gushed, happy at last to voice her reasoning. “I just think, Hood’s got the kind of gruff, nurturing thing going on? Big and gruff, but a total softie on the inside.” Not unlike her Auntie Mar, especially when she thought about what he was like with Miles. “He’d tear the throat outta anyone who threatens what’s his. But also… his whole life, right, he’s been made to think there’s something wrong with him, ‘cause he doesn’t fit the type.”

“I can see it!” Carmen was nodding enthusiastically now and Eden didn’t think she’d been happier in her whole life. “And then Spidey comes along, and he doesn’t care, right?”

“Exactly!” The excitement was palpable now that Carmen was on board, and Eden was so happy Carmen could see her vision. “He’s strong enough to lift up cars, what does he care about whether or not Hood's the ‘right’ kinda omega?”

“But Hood doesn’t understand that at first – he just thinks there’s this new alpha in town who wants to take over his turf–”

“But he isn’t! Spidey just thinks Hood’s hot and doing good shit! He just wants to help–”

“So the misunderstandings grow! Cause Spidey likes to tease, but he’s like those boys when we were kids, pulling the pigtails of the girls they liked–”

“And Hood doesn’t get that, ‘cause why would anyone be interested in an omega that doesn’t fit? But then–”

But then–! The warning bell for class rang, and both girls, breathless with excitement and the characterisations they’d been getting into, startled. Where had the time gone? So intense was her desire to get their ideas down on paper, Eden contemplated skipping, but Carmen would never risk it: she prided herself in her attendance record. At 99%, she was in the top ten at school (and she resented that lost one percent). 

So, with a stifled sigh and a giddy grin, Eden held out her elbow for Carmen to weave her arm through. Together, they practically skipped up to the school and into homeroom. And then Eden was writing anyway – sorry Mrs K – and it didn’t matter at all that she had a full day of classes, because Eden was going to write this story, even if it killed her.