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Spider-Man: Black and Blue (AU) Chapter 36: Station Delivery
🕑 Added 2025-11-19 01:47:07 +0000 UTC[Third Person Pov]
While Damon was still recovering from his recent battle with the Vulture, he decided to put the unexpected free time to use by studying—something no one in the household ever expected to witness voluntarily. With his ribs still aching and a few bruises stubbornly lingering, he lay sprawled across the couch, legs raised and crossed lazily. A tablet hovered in his hands as he scrolled through a dense college-level textbook on computer science and engineering, eyes flickering with a strange mix of focus and exhaustion.
Unfortunately, concentrating was easier said than done.
Danielle sat right beside him, legs criss-crossed beneath her like a coiled gremlin, controller in hand as she blasted enemies on the giant living-room TV. The surround-sound speakers rumbled with explosions, gunfire, and dramatic orchestral music—none of which helped Damon absorb anything about microprocessors.
After rereading the same sentence for the fourth time, Damon slowly lowered the tablet to his chest, exhaled through his nose, and reached over with one foot to plant it squarely against Danielle’s cheek.
“Can you turn it down a bit? I’m trying to study.”
Without missing a beat, Danielle slapped his foot away like she was swatting a fly, paused her game, then grabbed his big toe and twisted. Hard. The joint cracked loudly.
“Put your goddamn feet in my face again and I’m breaking every bone in your body.”
“Ah! Okay—okay—okay!” Damon yelped, contorting his whole torso along with her twist. He yanked his foot back and clutched it protectively. “But can’t you go to your room and play? Why does it have to be here?”
“Because the big TV is in the living room, and it has stereo speakers,” she said matter-of-factly. “Same question to you—why do you have to study here? Go to your room.”
“But I’m closer to the kitchen out here in case I get hungry,” Damon argued, massaging his offended toe.
Danielle looked at him like he’d just declared he was joining a monastery. “A better question is: Since when do you study? No offense, but your grades are abysmal.”
“Offense taken,” Damon said, pouting. “And they’ve improved! I’m trying to change that, which is why I’m studying.”
Danielle squinted, suspicion filling her expression. “…Did you fall in love?” she asked, scoffing. “Because I cannot think of any other reason you’d suddenly want to better yourself.”
“I have, actually,” Damon sighed dramatically. “She’s an older woman… dark skin… she has my heart in her hands.”
Danielle stared at him for a moment before laughing. “…Phtt. Weirdo.”
Before Damon could defend his crush, Lori’s voice called from the kitchen. “Damon, honey, are you busy?!”
“Kinda! I’m bothering Danielle!” he shouted back.
Danielle turned toward him slowly, deadpan radiating from her entire soul.
“Well, I need you to take something to your brother! Do you mind?” Lori called.
“Can’t Daphne do it?!” Damon groaned, letting the tablet flop onto his face.
“She’s out with her boyfriend. We have leftover lasagna—Dane’s favorite. I need you to take it to him at the station,” Lori answered, dishes clinking as she moved around.
Danielle perked up immediately. “Accept and let me come with you. I want ice cream.”
“Don’t we have ice cream in the fridge?” Damon asked, giving her a skeptical side-eye.
“Yeah, but it’s the healthy kind,” Danielle said with a visible shudder. “You know how Mom and Daphne are.”
Damon arched a brow. “You got gas money?”
Danielle stared at him flatly, like she couldn’t believe the audacity. “…You should be ashamed of yourself for extorting your little sister for gas money when Mom is making you go anyway.”
“She’s making me take food to Dane,” Damon corrected. “She said nothing about ice cream. If you want ice cream, that’s ice-cream gas money. Completely different.”
“Damon?!” Lori called again, clearly losing patience.
“I’m coming!!” Damon yelled before turning to Danielle with an expectant eyebrow. “Well?”
“Fuck you,” Danielle muttered, pushing herself up with dramatic grumbling. “You greedy bastard.”
“So… that’s a no?” he asked innocently.
“I’ll fork up the money…” she growled, stomping toward the hallway.
Damon stood up with her, victorious grin spreading across his face as he tucked the tablet under his arm and followed her out.
Sibling harmony at its finest.
…
They both walked into the kitchen, where a paper bag containing a tightly sealed Tupperware sat waiting on the counter. The smell of lasagna lingered faintly in the air. Lori was wiping down the sink when she noticed not just Damon—but Danielle—standing beside him, fully dressed and ready to go.
Her brows rose immediately.
“You’re accompanying him?” she asked, suspicion dripping from each word as she looked Danielle up and down.
“I want to see Dane,” Danielle said simply, then added with zero shame, “Also, Mom—Damon is making me pay gas money for bringing me along.”
“Damon!” Lori snapped, her tone switching instantly into the classic Mom Reprimand™.
“You snitch,” Damon muttered, shooting Danielle a glare. She only crossed her arms and lifted her chin in victory, absolutely unbothered.
Mom lecture acquired and endured, Damon grabbed the bag of food while Danielle hummed smugly behind him. They headed for the front door; Damon stomped out first with a grumpy expression carved into his face, while Danielle followed looking proud, smug, and perfectly satisfied with herself.
As they approached his car, Damon grumbled, “You can forget about getting that ice cream, you little parrot.”
Danielle rolled her eyes and slid into the passenger seat. “I’ll pay for your portion.”
“Deal,” Damon said instantly—so fast it barely counted as a conversation—before slamming his door shut. He started the engine and peeled out of the driveway.
As they merged onto the main road, Danielle reached over and turned on the stereo. The speakers blasted her playlist—pop, rock, whatever chaos she enjoyed—and Damon simply shook his head, letting her have her victory as he navigated through traffic.
The drive took close to thirty minutes, weaving through city streets and busy intersections until they finally pulled up in front of the police station. Damon parked, cut the engine, and they both stepped out with Danielle grabbing the bag of lasagna.
Inside, the station was busy. Officers moved in every direction, some carrying stacks of folders, others hunched behind desks typing reports. Phones rang, conversations overlapped, and the general atmosphere buzzed with midday energy. Damon and Danielle paused for a moment, taking in the organized chaos before scanning the room.
They started toward the front desk—until Damon spotted Dane.
Their older brother was standing beside his desk, speaking to a woman of Asian descent. She looked sharp, composed, and clearly amused by whatever Dane was saying.
“Dane!!” Damon shouted, voice echoing through the station and causing several officers to pause mid-step.
Dane turned, face brightening as he saw his siblings—until Damon’s next words hit.
“Stop flirting and get over here! Mom made us bring you lunch!”
Dane froze. His face flushed a shade that was definitely not his usual color. Around him, officers snickered, some openly grinning before returning to their work with renewed amusement.
The woman raised an eyebrow at him, and Dane managed a stiff, mortified, “My little brother…”
She laughed—a soft, entertained sound that absolutely did not help him.
Dane motioned them over, jaw tight. When they reached his desk, he leaned closer and hissed at Damon, “You’ve clearly been hit in the head too many times. What is wrong with you?”
“Ease up, Great Dane, I was just joking,” Damon said with a grin, Danielle snickering right beside him.
“Great Dane…? Like the dog?” the woman asked, trying and failing not to laugh.
“Yeah,” Damon said, gesturing at his brother. “Look at that cute growling face. Tell me he doesn’t remind you of one. And the name matches perfectly.”
The woman laughed freely this time. “I can kind of see it…”
Dane looked between them with a soul-weary deadpan stare.
“Damon Drake,” Damon said smoothly, offering his hand with his trademark charismatic smile.
“Yuri Watanabe,” she replied, shaking his hand with a firm grip. "Dane's Field Training Officer"
Danielle stepped forward, holding out the bag. “Here. Mom made lasagna.”
Dane exhaled in relief like he’d just received a bailout. “Ugh, Mom’s a lifesaver. I was literally just wondering what I was going to get for lunch.” He accepted the bag gratefully, offering both Damon and Danielle a sincere thanks.
Comments
Bryan Vargas
Yup
Sin Vergil
Now that question you asked about superior officers makes sense.
