Shadow_D_Monarch3
patreon
Spider-Man: Black and Blue (AU) Chapter 39: Close Door Argument
🕑 Added 2025-12-12 01:22:48 +0000 UTC[Third Person Pov]
As Damon and the rest of his family stepped out of the police precinct, the cool afternoon air met them like a wall, heavy with tension none of them dared to acknowledge outright. They walked across the parking lot toward their vehicles, the sound of their footsteps echoing faintly on the pavement. Damon kept his eyes fixed on his father’s stiff, slightly hunched shoulders.
“Why do I get the distinct feeling you don't approve of what I did?” Damon finally asked, unable to hold the question in any longer.
He had noticed it the moment his parents arrived earlier. His mother had practically rushed to him, her face a mixture of fear and maternal pride. She didn’t hesitate to praise him, his father, however… his father had barely said two words to him. His silence had spoken volumes.
“What?” Lori asked, confusion flashing across her face before she glanced at her husband.
Dylan exhaled slowly, as though bracing himself. “It’s… more complicated than me simply approving or disapproving,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “We should talk about this at home. Somewhere private. Not out here.” He reached down and gently patted Danielle’s head, reassuring but distracted.
“Don’t you have to get back to work?” Danielle asked, peering up at him with wide eyes.
“Not anymore,” Dylan replied. “I took the rest of the day off after hearing what happened.” Without waiting for further questions, he headed toward his car. Lori ushered Danielle along behind him, while Damon made his way to his own vehicle. Engines started, doors shut, and within seconds both cars slipped out of their parking spaces and headed toward home.
…
By the time they arrived, a heavy quiet had settled between them. They went straight to Dylan’s home office—a room usually off-limits unless invited. The polished dark wood, orderly shelves, and framed certificates on the wall made the air feel even heavier.
Lori kept sending suspicious looks toward her husband, unable to reconcile his earlier attitude with the proud, supportive father she knew him to be. Damon, meanwhile, braced himself for whatever lecture was coming.
Once inside, Dylan leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms. Lori opened her mouth to speak, but Dylan lifted a hand.
“Let me go first.”
He shifted his gaze toward Damon, his expression stern but undeniably soft around the edges. “Let me start by saying: I’m not mad at you. Not for what you did. How could I be? You acted exactly as an older brother should. You saw your sister in danger and you rushed in to protect her. That instinct… it’s admirable. It’s something I could never condemn.”
Lori’s shoulders visibly relaxed, the worry draining from her face. Damon felt some of the tension leave his own chest—until Dylan’s expression shifted.
“But…” Damon muttered under his breath, glancing around the room dramatically. “We can all hear it coming.”
Danielle snorted behind him. “Yeah, kinda obvious.”
Dylan frowned at the interruption but continued. “But you were far too reckless. You put everyone in unnecessary danger.”
Damon’s eyes widened with disbelief. “The guy had a gun to Danielle’s head! What the hell did you want me to do—just stand there and stare?!”
“What I want,” Dylan said, voice sharpening, “is for you to think! To understand the danger you put not only her in, but yourself as well.” His tone remained fatherly, firm but not cruel. “What if, when you went for the gun, it had gone off? What if the bullet hit Danielle? What would you have done then?”
“That argument is pure bullshit,” Damon snapped. “I could just as easily say that if I didn’t act, he still could’ve shot her—and then it would’ve been on me for doing nothing!”
“That is not the point I’m making!” Dylan’s voice rose in frustration. “Actions have consequences, Damon! What if it was you who got shot? What if you were the one lying on the ground with a bullet in you, or—God forbid—dead?!”
“I would’ve said thank God it was me and not her!” Damon roared, throwing his arms wide in raw emotion. The room went silent. “If I had been the one who got shot, that would’ve been perfectly fine with me. As long as that gun wasn’t pointed at her—!!”
He didn’t finish.
Danielle launched forward and wrapped her arms around him so suddenly that the force pushed him back a step. Damon froze, startled, as she clung to him with a trembling grip.
The office space fell into a heavy silence, the weight of Damon’s words still hanging in the air like a lingering echo. Dylan and Lori exchanged a look—one of those silent conversations only long-married couples could have. Beneath the stern exterior each of them wore, there was no denying the emotion stirred inside them. They didn’t approve of Damon throwing himself into danger—not even close—but they couldn’t pretend they weren’t touched. Proud, even. After all, that fierce protectiveness was something they’d raised into him, whether they meant to or not.
“You’re an idiot…” Danielle finally muttered, breaking the thick quiet. She looked up at Damon with a complicated expression. Her glare was sharp, filled with disapproval and worry she didn’t quite know how to express. “Don’t do that, okay? I would seriously hate you if you went and sacrificed yourself for me…”
Damon scoffed and reached out, poking her forehead with two fingers. “That isn’t for you to decide. I’ll do whatever the hell I want.”
Danielle let out a low, irritated growl as she glared daggers at him.
“Okay,” Lori cut in, raising her hands between Dylan and Damon as though physically separating the tension. “We are all civilized people. We can talk things through without shouting—or cursing.” She aimed a very pointed look at Damon, who rolled his eyes in response.
Dylan sighed, his voice softening. “Look… what I’m trying to instill in you is that everything you do has repercussions. You need to think before you act. What you did was incredibly reckless. You should’ve left it to the trained professionals around you. Dane was there, wasn’t he? This is literally what those officers are trained for. They’ve dealt with high-stress situations, they know how to de-escalate. You were lucky—very lucky—that nothing worse happened. Because believe me… it could have gone horribly wrong.”
Damon exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck, his frustration giving way to reluctant honesty. “I know what you’re trying to say. I understand it, I really do. But the whole ‘think before I act’ thing… that’s just not who I am. My body acted before my brain even processed what was happening. All I saw was Danielle in danger—and I reacted. And that’s probably always going to be a part of me whether I want to change it or not.”
Both Dylan and Lori let out matching sighs—long, resigned ones—as they stared at Damon with a softness that replaced the earlier tension. They shared another brief look, this one filled with affectionate blame: This part of him? That’s your genetics. No, that one’s yours.
“Okay,” Dylan finally said, nodding slowly. “That trait of yours… it isn’t necessarily bad. It comes from a good place. But all I’m asking is that you at least try. Alright? Try to think things through when you can.”
“Fine…” Damon muttered as he ruffled his hair. “But don’t get your hopes up.”
A round of chuckles circled through the room, subtle but genuine, marking the end of their closed-door argument. Danielle was the first to slip out the door. Damon followed behind her, but just before crossing the threshold, he paused and looked back over his shoulder, expression thoughtful.
“What?” Dylan asked, noticing Damon staring at them as though debating something important.
“I’m thinking…” Damon replied.
That alone made them both laugh.
“And what exactly are you thinking about?” Lori asked, amusement lacing her voice.
Damon didn’t break eye contact with his father. “Can you teach me how to be a detective?”
“…”
“What?” both parents blurted out in perfect unison, utterly blindsided.
