Peter WHY...

The late November night hung heavy over New York City, a blanket of snowflakes drifting down from a starless sky. Peter Parker swung through the streets on his routine patrol, the chill seeping through his red and black suit as holiday lights twinkled below. 

The city was quieter than usual, the festive season slowing the usual chaos, but Peter kept his senses sharp, enjoying the rhythm of swinging through the night air. 

Not much going on tonight, he thought, landing lightly on a rooftop. Guess the bad guys are taking a holiday break too.

Then, movement caught his eye—a figure leaping and sprinting across the streets below, agile and fearless. Peter squinted, his spider-sense buzzing faintly, and grinned as recognition hit. 

Well, well, if it isn't Matt Murdock—Daredevil in the flesh. The man wore a homemade yellow and black suit, the mask covering most of his face except his mouth, a far cry from the sleek red costume Peter knew from later tales. 

Beginning days, huh? That suit screams DIY. Gotta respect the hustle, though.

Curious, Peter followed at a distance, swinging silently from building to building, keeping Matt in sight. After a few blocks, Daredevil paused atop a low-rise building, leaning against a brick wall, his chest heaving slightly. 

Taking a breather, Peter noted, crouching on a nearby ledge. Looks wiped. Perfect chance for a little fun. With nothing major on his agenda tonight—Spider-Man was just a side gig, after all—he decided to mess with the rookie hero.

Peter crept closer, moving with stealth honed from months of patrols and that warehouse heist. When he was within range, he flicked his wrist, firing a web that caught Matt off-guard. The yellow-clad hero twisted, his reflexes sharp but not sharp enough in his early days, especially tired as he was. The web snagged his arm, pinning him to the wall with a sticky thud. Matt struggled briefly, his head tilting as if listening, but the webbing held firm.

"Gotcha!" Peter called, swinging down to land in front of him, his tone light and teasing. He crossed his arms, leaning in like a detective in a bad cop movie. "Alright, pal, let's have a chat. Who're you supposed to be?"

Matt froze, his jaw tightening beneath the mask, but his voice came out steady, friendly even. "I'm Daredevil. Heard of you, Spider-Man—big fan, actually. Didn't mean to step on your turf."

Peter grinned under his mask, keeping up the act. "Daredevil, huh? Nice getup—yellow's bold. So, what's the deal? You a fanboy trying to catch my eye? Hoping I'd take you on as my student or something?"

Matt's mouth twitched, unsure if this was serious, but he played along, his tone earnest. "Not exactly. Just doing my part—heard about your work, webbing up crooks. Figured Hell's Kitchen could use a hand too. Didn't think I'd end up stuck to a wall, though."

He's buying it, Peter thought, stifling a laugh. Poor guy's too nice to call me out. This is gold. He paced a little, milking the moment. "So, you're telling me you're not here to impress me? Not begging for lessons from the Spider-Man? 'Cause that suit says you're still figuring things out."

Matt chuckled, a bit sheepish but still respectful. "I'll admit, it's rough—made it myself. Just… learning the ropes, you know? You're the one with the webs—I've got my own way. Respect what you do, though. City talks about you all the time."

Friendly and humble, Peter mused. He's cool—heard about me, respects me. Too bad I'm just yanking his chain. 

He leaned closer, dropping his voice to a mock-serious growl. "Learning the ropes, huh? Well, here's lesson one: don't get caught by a guy with better aim. What's your deal, anyway? Why the mask and the rooftop marathon?"

Matt shifted, still webbed but relaxed now, sensing no real threat. "Got my reasons—city's rotten in spots, needs cleaning up. I hear things, feel things others don't. Figured I'd use it. You're the real deal, Spider-Man—those webs are something else. Ever think of teaming up?"

Peter snorted, barely holding back laughter. Teaming up? He know how to fight well . 

"Maybe, if you graduate from fanboy school. Tell you what—prove you're not just chasing my spotlight, and I'll think about it. What's your name, rookie?"

"Daredevil's fine," Matt said, a hint of a grin showing through his mask. "Real name's not important yet. You've got a rep—I'm just starting mine."

He's got no clue I know he's Matt, Peter thought, delighted. This is too easy. 

He stepped back, waving a hand. "Alright, Daredevil, I'll let you off this time. Keep running around, but don't trip over your own cape—or lack thereof. City's big enough for both of us."

With a flick of his wrist, Peter dissolved the webs, letting Matt drop lightly to the rooftop. "Catch you later, newbie," he called, swinging off into the snowy night, leaving Matt rubbing his arm in bemused silence.

That was a nice meet up, Peter thought, soaring through the cold air. Matt's got potential—heard of me, respects me, and didn't even get mad. Might actually keep an eye on him. But tonight? That was just for kicks. His patrol continued, the holiday-lit city sprawling beneath him, a playground for a 16-year-old hero who loved his side gig almost as much as his real life .

I wonder if there are more hero's like Luke Cage and castle.... also Jessica too. Peter thought in his mind.