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It starts as it will end. With the holy grail, the answer to answer all questions, the reason for why they do most things, and why they get out of bed in the morning. A ball. Specifically, a tennis ball with patches missing and dirt stuck in the used to be neon fluorescent yellow fuzz. It smelt of alcohol and piss, and felt sticky to the touch like someone dumped hot cola on it. In actuality, it wasn’t a ball, it was The Ball.
Every year, once a month a new “Game” would pop up for the vigilantes. Hide and seek, TAG, hide an object, the list goes on, and at the end of the month, all the vigilantes of the underground got together to see who won at exactly midnight.
(It’s how Peter met Moon Knight, some of Wade’s people - Colossus, Negasonic, (who were mitigators), Domino and Cable, how he met Elektra - Matt’s kind of ex-lover and kind of sister, it was a “it’s complicated” history, Shang-Chi, Black Cat (ugh, Peter did not like her, she was a flirt), fucking Barnes showed up as well, which made The Games more difficult, even goddamn Wolverine showed up if he was in town for The Game. They came out of the cracks and holes of woodworks and all interacted with each other for The Game, one time a month, then they would go back to their own groups, go back to being alone, and go back to pretending that the other vigilantes that they did not regularly interact with, did not exist.)
But, every so often The Ball would reappear and throw a wrench in their normal Games. Who got The Ball and where it went after the month, and how it came back at one point randomly, nobody knew, it was one of life’s many mysteries.
(“It’s just the Author has no idea how to write it getting from point A to B, she’s just putting off writing the next official instalment of the series and decided to write crack instead,” Wade said.
“The actual fuck are you talking about?” Asked Weasel, confused.)
Peter Parker - Spider-Man - only started the vigilante life much later in his years, and the first official year he wasn’t in the best place mentally, while not immediately suicidal, he could have easily gone back to being suicidal in a second, so any Game that year, he stayed out of it. The next year he got involved - TAG. He lost that year, as he was still improving on... well everything really, and these people were up to his speed still. The year after was hide and seek, he came in third mainly because they knew all his hiding spots and Bucky could be fucking relentless. Hide an object (in this case, an art piece Wade swore he didn’t steal) was next, and Frank won that, though Peter and Matt were good at finding him, so the guy had regularly moved. But now, The Ball had resurfaced.
And currently, Matt Murdock had it in his grasp.
Matt stared at Peter, who had shown no interest in The Ball, as if he was insane. As if the guy lost his mind, despite the fact he allowed Peter to hold it. Peter had every chance to run, but he didn’t.
Instead, Peter carefully inspected it, turning it every way and smelling it, “smells gross.” He carelessly tossed it back to Matt without a care, or second thought, then fell onto the sofa tiredly.
Matt caught The Ball with a fumble, and gripped The Ball tightly, horrified and offended by the lack of care on Peter’s part. He taught the kid better! “You... don’t care?”
“Should I?” Asked Peter, looking over to Matt in complete confusion.
Matt scowled, unsure if Peter knew that this was The Game. “It’s The Game for this year... whoever has it last by the end of the month wins.” Peter loved The Games, he enjoyed it, because at this point his abilities were better and honed in, his fighting, hiding, hunting and well... everything was better than anyones and he’d win no matter what at this point...
Have The Game’s really become boring for the twenty-one year old? (Or, maybe it was a blessing in disguise? Give people a chance rather than have Peter let all his skills that he’s developed come into play.)
“Cool,” shrugged Peter. “Look, the other Games were fun, but that stinks and feels gross. It’s making me sick. Besides, the other ones were fun because it involved strategy. This feels more like a chase, while Hide the Object was more like a treasure hunt.”
Matt frowned, now mildly concerned about Peter, “you sure you're my kid?” Has he hit his head? Has there been another multiverse issue?
Peter scowled, as if offended, “I’m sure, Matt.”
Suddenly, the door slammed open, and Peter and Matt turned to look in silent shock, and merely watched as Wade stormed in, plucked The Ball straight from Matt’s hand, and stormed back out again. Matt was frozen, with a face of confused and lost puppy on him, befuddled about what just happened.
“Think Wade got The Ball,” mused Peter.
Matt didn’t listen to Peter properly, though the borderline alcoholic’s voice snapped him out of his frozen state. He didn’t waste another second and ran out of the apartment, and threw himself down the stairs after a gleeful Wade.
Frank shot Wade point blank in the face in the middle of the street, when Wade had decided to risk going out for chimichangas, the shot dazed Wade. Frank got The Ball and left with Max in the passenger seat. Wade had it for a day.
Word spread after that - The Ball was back.
Matt found Frank in a random safe house in Midtown three days later. Clever, to not hide in one of his regular spots, but not clever enough. Matt tackled Frank down, who had The Ball on a desk, and reached for said Ball.
However, Frank dragged Matt back by his ankles, and climbed over him to reach for The Ball, but Matt kicked him in the stomach.
Max was watching happily at the side.
The scuffled continued, desperately trying to get The Ball, while bloodying the other and leaving maximum bruising. At one point they seemed to forget that The Ball was the end goal, the idea of fighting each other was more appealing.
Max started barking.
“Thanks guys.”
Matt and Frank froze and Frank turned.
“Rand,” warned Frank, seeing Danny Rand in the doorway, now holding The Ball.
“Bye!” Called Rand, running out.
“Daniel!” Yelled Matt in anger.
“Hey Danny,” called Peter, “I’m here for - oh come on!” He snapped, seeing Danny hunched over The Ball like fucking Gollum. “Seriously, you too?” He just knew that wasn’t good for his Sensei’s back.
Danny practically hissed, “back off Peter!”
Peter held up his hands in a surrender, “I don’t give a shit about The Ball! How long have you had that?!”
“A day!” Danny backed up into the corner like a starved animal, “Colleen doesn’t know I have it, how she doesn’t know — ”
Peter sniffed and scowled, “can I smell it?” It smelt different, but then again the Dojo always smelt of candles.
Danny glared with eyes full of distrust, “Peter — ”
“It’s not the same Ball,” reasoned Peter, voice gentle and his hand out, as if calming a skittish animal. He swears it smells... not new, but not like piss and drink. Almost like... the dumpsters Peter finds himself in on rare occasions.
Danny hesitated, he was conflicted before saying, “I’m only trusting you because you're my best student.”
Peter smiled softly, “I know Sensei.” He walked over and held his hand out in a “hand it over” motion, and the moment it was placed in Peter’s hands, he scowled. It wasn’t sticky. “It’s not The Ball, Danny.”
Danny stared at Peter, “Colleen!” He yelled and instantly ran out of the Dojo.
Peter pressed it to his nose, and sniffed deeply, to double make sure, and yep... definitely not The Ball.
Colleen slept on a rooftop for two nights, before Clint got The Ball. If she knew Hawkeye was playing, she would have stayed in an enclosed space.
Kate stole it from Clint, which was fucking hilarious. He somehow got it in his head she’d be like Peter, who did not care for The Ball. He managed to convince himself that if he allowed Kate to see and hold The Ball, that much like Peter, she’d be uninterested and wouldn’t run.
She ran. Booked it.
Clint had it for three hours.
Yelena stole it from Kate the moment Kate rushed to her to gloat, but Domino and Cable were already hot on Kate’s tails, and thus the moment Yelena stole it from Kate, Domino and Cable burst in and stole it from Yelena. (On one hand, at least it was no longer Clint who had The Ball for the shortest time.) However, both then immediately started fighting in front of her, and Domino got The Ball and ran.
“What is going on in your Dimension?”
Peter One looked up from his phone, ignoring Wade’s bitching as Domino was furious. Jessica somehow got The Ball from Domino, and currently Jessica Jones had gone MIA, much to everyone's annoyance.
“What?” Asked One, confused as he stared at Miguel. The guy never talked to him if he could help it.
“Your Dimension is in chaos,” Miguel said, looking stressed out of his mind.
“Oh,” hummed One. “There’s A Ball.”
“The Ball,” B said, suddenly, and tensely. He had been tense around One now for ages, and he wasn’t easing up anytime soon. (As he shouldn’t. One was pissed at him.)
“Does everyone have A fucking Ball?!” Snapped One, looking around at a few Parker’s in the room, who all made noises meaning yes, we have A Ball, and it’s amazing.
“Do you not want The Ball?” Asked a Spider, who Peter One didn’t know the name of besides the obvious “Peter Parker”.
“If I wanted The Ball, I’d have had The Ball,” assured One with his arms crossed, unimpressed.
Nobody doubted him.
Jessica lost The Ball to Moon Knight, who decided to make an appearance.
“Hi Frank, I’m here to walk Max,” smiled Peter, who was immediately given kisses by Max.
Frank didn’t understand why Peter wasn’t more excited about The Ball. Yes, the kid was more serious these days, but he still had childish glee in him. But, really maybe it was a good thing that Peter wasn’t joining. Frank knew they wouldn’t stand a chance against the kid now.
“Thanks kid,” nodded Frank.
Moon Knight was confusing and honestly, he didn’t help with Bucky’s PTSD. Bucky wasn’t stupid, he managed to weave himself into the vigilante community and heard through the grapevine that Moon Knight more than likely had DID. (Actually Spider-Man came up with that idea after the kid met him one time.)
Because of that Bucky couldn’t help but remember The Winter Soldier days. But, nothing was going to stop him from getting that Ball!
Bucky stormed Moon Knight’s rented apartment, and paused, noticing it was the other guy... did Moon Knight have three people? Eh, who knows.
Moon Knight, in a flannel shirt, looked up in shock. “Hi?”
“Hey,” nodded Bucky. “Give me The Ball.”
Moon Knight sighed, “Marc...” He stood and took out The Ball from a desk drawer. He paused, looking into a mirror. “It’s the White Wolf! Of course I’m gonna hand it over!... I don’t care, Marc.” He handed The Ball over.
“Thanks,” nodded Bucky, who then walked out. Unbothered.
DID, definitely...
Sam was sick of Bucky and the fucking ball. Bucky had hunkered down and blocked up his apartment like he was back in The War, and was preparing for The Apocalypse. Sam needed Bucky out of the apartment.
So, he may or may not have made a mistake... he told Clint while waiting outside of Bucky’s apartment. He hadn’t expected what came next.
He hadn’t expected Clint, Kate Bishop (Hawkeye), and Yelena Belova (Black Widow) to come barreling down the hallway and barge their way through the door.
He frowned, and jumped back in horror, as Bucky let out an inhumane howl of anger.
Not before Jessica Jones walked in, threw them aside, grabbed the ball and left again.
What the fuck is happening in the underground? How did Jones even get here?!
Elektra got The Ball from Jessica, and of course Matt heard and got to sniffing.
Peter walked Max again, and was on the phone to Miles, as his phone just rang.
“I WON!”
Peter jumped and held the phone from his ear. Didn’t even get a chance to say “hello” before the kid was blowing up an eardrum. After making sure he wasn’t deaf, he put his phone back to his ear. “Won what, kiddo?”
“Hide and seek with the vigilantes! I WON!” Cheered Miles, and Peter began smiling hearing Jefferson and Rio cheer in the background with him.
“That’s great kiddo!” Smiled Peter, and scratched Max behind his ear softly. “I’m so proud of you!” Even he struggled with The Games, because every vigilante went from 100 to 200, they went insane. Fucking feral, but then again, Miles had been trained by two feral vigilante’s.
“Can’t believe I won!” Miles cheered, giggling like an evil maniac. Peter could picture him jumping on the tips of his toes.
Peter smiled, and looked down to Max, who was panting and wagging his tail happily.
“I can,” grinned Peter. “Because, you’re amazing.”
It was a battle for the ages, but Matt got The Ball back and was growling at everyone who came close... which meant Peter, Foggy and Karen. As if Foggy and Karen cared about The Ball, as if Peter cared about The Ball.
Peter sat with his arms crossed, watching as Matt caressed The Ball, protecting his territory.
“Uh, Dad...” Started Peter, and smiled hearing Matt’s heart flutter in delight. It usually did whenever Peter called Matt “Dad”. “Could you calm down, I’m sure The Ball is safe — ”
Wolverine casually walked in with a cigar, and Matt jerked up in horror.
Peter sighed and sagged. “Oh God, not again...”
A mass text was sent out to every vigilante in New York who was playing The Game.
The Ball
Spider-Man: Wolverine’s joined The Game.
Collectively, the entire underground let out a loud, horrified “fuck”.
“Thank you for the tip.”
Peter silently groaned, and closed his eyes behind his mask, silently counting to five. “Hi Felicia.” He ground out between his teeth, trying to sound friendly when all he wanted to do was throw her off the roof.
Felicia sauntered forward and gently caressed Peter’s muscular shoulder, “oh wow, you’ve grown.” She said, and Peter held back a growl, annoyed. SHe said this every time they saw each other. They didn’t meet up regularly, and if they bumped into each other it was an accident. She could say that line today and again tomorrow if they saw each other.
“Hands off the merchandise,” scowled Peter, pulling his arm from Felicia’s grasp. He turned to face her, and sighed, seeing The Ball in her claw, gloved hand. “Seriously?”
Felicia grinned, all her pearly white teeth on show. Unlike Matt’s toothy smile which held danger, Felicia was all flirtatious.
“Of course — ”
Without a second thought, Peter instantly whacked The Ball out of her hand, and watched it fall down to the ground below.
Felicia’s coy smile dropped, and turned to terror, as she stared at The Ball, then turned to face Peter, and began frantically looking between the two. Her horror grew upon seeing Shang-Chi, who had been absent for the majority of The Game walk by, stare up at the two masked vigilantes, stare at The Ball, before grabbing said Ball and running, no doubt deciding that he might as well.
Peter blinked, feeling Felicia look at him again, and pulled out his flask of whiskey, breezily. He pulled his mask up to his nose, and said, “oops.”
He took a gulp.
Danny caught wind that Shang-Chi got hold of The Ball due to sheer dumb luck, and so Danny got it back instantly, it was fast and effortless, then refused to talk to Peter, believing he had betrayed him (“my own student! I’m your Sensei!”), and firmly believed that Peter had teamed up with Shang-Chi.
Then Felicia went ahead and told everyone that Peter threw The Ball to the ground below from a death defying height, (emphasising the “death” defying height, as if Daredevil couldn’t have made that jump and lived), and he was now effectively shunned by everyone and looked at, as if he held The Plague.
“Ya can’t throw The Ball like it’s dirt, One,” Noir said sternly and felt as if he was scolding a child. It was strange, it was usually One doing some form of parental scolding to Miles, and Noir was just watching. “The Ball is sacred, it is important. You deserve the cancel culture that’s being thrown at you, dude.”
One scowled at Noir, “everyone is going bananas for a beat up, raunchy, plugged nickel, thingamajig!”
“Big yikes,” hissed Noir, in disgust. He really couldn’t believe One didn’t care about The Ball, it made no sense! Every vigilante ever cared about The Ball, and their own variation of The Ball. “You’re taking the L forever with this Game, huh?”
“It’s A Ball!”
Luke got The Ball, before Deadpool shot at him in the chest. Realising how useless that was, he shot Luke in the head, knocking the guy out, and snatched The Ball from him, before running away. He seemed to think he’d be safe in Sister Margaret's Bar, hiding in the back. However, he believed that Weasel would give in... and Weasel was a coward who did, in fact, cave the moment Frank Castle walked in.
Frank now had The Ball.
Frank looked up, hearing a knock at the door, and he peered out through the peephole. Peter. With a sigh, he opened the door, and nodded in greeting. “Really shouldn’t be talking to you.” Frank said immediately.
Peter sighed, “is this about The Ball?”
Frank stared at him unimpressed. It’s always been about The Ball. Peter should know better, have they taught him nothing? This is what he gets for giving the kid a gun.
“I’m sorry, but it was Felicia! I’m allowed to do whatever, when it comes to Felicia!” Peter rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed at Frank. “Look, do you want me to walk Max? Or you want me to leave?”
Frank had to seriously think about that, if he wanted to risk Peter being around The Ball. It was getting tense in The Game, and was now getting to the end of the month, just over a week. Peter’s been walking Max for years now, and Max has been happier. Kid’s been happier too. Even now, walking Max was the highlight of Peter’s life.
“I’ll get his leash,” Frank conceded, hands up and let Peter in, who nodded, and entered, before leaning back on the wall, and shoving his hands in his pockets.
Frank turned and walked out the room, and rummaged through the drawers of his kitchen to find the leash. (He had tried to get Max to wear a spiked collar, but no dice. Max was too fucking cute apparently.) He pushed past the the leaflets and notebooks he had stuffed in the drawer.
Ah-ha!
Frank grabbed the black leash and walked back into the room, and Peter was now petting Max, smiling gently, feeding the dog all the praise in the world.
With an eye roll, Frank handed over the leash. “Here.”
Peter looked up and smiled, taking the leash. “Thank’s Frank.”
Frank stormed into Matt’s apartment late that night, “Parker!” He practically roared, as his boots stomped against the floor.
Matt and Peter looked up from the sofa, the two watching Star Trek (well, Peter watched and Matt had audio description).
“Hi Frank,” nodded Peter, confused. “Uh, what’s up?”
“The Ball!” Snapped Frank stalking over to Peter. It was the only answer! The only fucking answer —
“Look,” sighed Peter, hands up in surrender. “How many times do I have to say sorry? Okay? I shouldn’t have thrown The Ball. But, it was Felicia and — ”
“You have The Ball!” Snapped Frank, finger pointed at the kid. He didn’t need to hear all this again.
Peter drawled, he sounded bored, “what?”
“You have The Ball!” Frank yelled, and held out his hand. He had made sure nobody had walked in, and Peter was the only one who had a chance to get The Ball! “Give me The Ball!”
“I don’t have The Ball...”
When did Peter stop being scared of him? He’s The Punisher! Frank Castle! He’s meant to scare people! And here Peter is, bored and seeming tired of Frank!
Matt frowned, looking completely lost and bewildered. “Frank, Peter doesn’t have The Ball... it’s the truth. I can’t smell it on him, and he’s not lying, and it’s not in the apartment... I’d have got it by now.”
It fell silent, as the realisation hit Frank. He didn’t have The Ball, Peter didn’t have The Ball.
Matt’s confusion turned to horror.
“YOU LOST THE BALL?!”
The entire underground came to another standstill, and suddenly everywhere Peter frequented was searched top to bottom. Peter was sniffed and searched and Peter was there when they searched MJ’s place and Ned’s dorm. They checked Rand Enterprise and The Daily Bugle, they checked every office Peter visited. Every safe house. Every gym. The Avengers Headquarters.
They didn’t think Peter would stoop so low as to take The Ball out of their dimension... and so, Peter didn’t have The Ball.
They mourned their loss. They mourned the missing Ball.
Peter sighed.
Every once in a while they’d think they’d found The Ball, but upon closer inspection (a.k.a. Matt), it was revealed it was not The Ball.
Everyday they asked “has anyone got The Ball”. At this point, they didn’t care about fighting, winning, they just wanted The Ball back, acting as if they lost their God. Shang-Chi was especially disappointed, he had joined The Game late, and Moon Knight was furious he didn’t get a second shot.
“They lost The Ball?!” Gaped Three in horror, staring at One, the two Peter’s sitting at the table.
MJ frowned as he tilted his head in confusion. He looked to Three-Matt and Three-Wade (two teenagers, Jesus fucking Christ), who also sat at the table, and asked, “what’s The Ball?”
Three and his Team Red looked horrified at MJ, who didn’t seem bothered by the fact One’s Ball was missing, nor did he seem to care about Their Ball. Instead, MJ sipped his coffee.
“The Ball,” started Three-Wade, hands out and leaning forward. His tone and face were serious, as if he was about to explain how to save a puppy’s life.
“Fucking hell,” whispered One, rubbing his face.
Captain America: Please, tell me you’ve found the ball? Bucky’s devastated.
Spider-Man: No, I have not found The Ball. I do not know where The Ball is. Nor do I fucking care!
They met up on the roof of a building in The Bronx. Colossus and Negasonic both seemed tired, they only ever came to mitigate and judge.
“It’s all Frank’s fault!” Wailed Wade, throwing himself into Cable’s arms. “He lost The Ball!”
Cable dropped Wade and looked to Domino, “you’re the lucky one — ”
“Yet, no luck with this.” Domino scowled in annoyance.
“Daredevil? Have you sniffed it out yet?” Asked Luke, unimpressed he only got one shot.
“I’d be gloating about now — ” Matt started, but Colossus spoke up.
“Actually, it’s a minute to midnight,” he said, looking over Negasonic’s shoulder.
Jessica sighed and sipped her paint thinner smelling drink, “I’ve not found it — ”
“And neither have I,” pouted Felicia, she hated not finding things. She kept edging closer to Peter, who shuffled away each time.
“Damn it Frank,” scowled Bucky, making Frank sneer.
“It’s not my fault!” Frank snapped, watching as Max went up to Peter, who gave him loving pets.
“How could we have lost it before the month was up?!” Frowned Danny, running his fingers through his curls. He looked over to the Hawkeyes, “did you guys see anything?”
“No, not a thing,” sighed Clint.
Kate frowned, “even Yelena went to the sewers.”
Yelena grimaced and shivered at the memories, “it was gross.”
Shang-Chi was so upset, “how could I only get one shot and lose?!”
“I did as well,” assured Moon Knight, equally as pissed. “I don’t care! I’m not talking to you!” He snapped suddenly, looking at his reflection in Bucky’s metal arm.
“A week,” Colleen whispered, annoyed, “missing for a week.”
Wolverine was staring at Frank, “right... who was with you last.”
“Spidey, but we checked him.” Frank said, jabbing a thumb at Peter, who paused, before the kid began fishing out his flask of alcohol. Kids gotta stop drinking...
“You sure?” Asked Elektra, as her eyes went to Matt.
“He’s had many times to snatch and run, okay?!” Snapped Matt, who was now pacing back and forth.
“Alright, midnight.” Hummed Negasonic, “guess you’re all losers.”
Wade threw his head back, “fucking hell!” He cried out to the sky, jogging in the spot on the tips of his toes, before he turned, “where’s it go — ” He froze, his mask eyes growing, staring at... “Spidey... the fuck is that, baby boy...?”
Everyone, simultaneously, turned and stared at Spider-Man in shock.
“Hmm?” Hummed Peter, as if confused, his hand out, holding — “oh! The Ball...” He answered with a smile, “that I nabbed from Frank, a week ago...” And there, in Peter’s hand, was the dirty, grimy, smelly, sticky Ball that clashed against the kid’s red gloves.
Matt’s mouth was open in horror. “B-but you hate The Ball!”
“No I don’t!” Screeched Peter now in equal amounts of horror, “have you seen this Ball?!” He asked, furiously waving The Ball. “It’s fucking amazing! And, I won fair and square! I never took it out of this dimension, and you dumbasses never found where I stashed it. So... I win.”
And Peter... hadn’t broken any rules. Any vigilante could get involved, all they had to do was steal The Ball and they were in The Game. It didn’t need to be voiced. He never took it out of the dimension either. He just... got it secretly, unlike everyone else who fought for it, and hid it, unlike others who kept it on them. He played the long game.
Frank took a menacing step forward, “Spider-Man.”
Peter’s straight back of pride dropped, and the smile behind his mask wavered. “Now come on Frank... you understand the power The Ball has.” He said, taking a step back, slow and steady.
“How the fuck — ” Snarled Frank.
Peter blinked, “bye!” He shot a web and quickly swung off, as the other vigilantes had frozen in either horror, yelled out in anger, chased after him, or stared impressed.
“I should never have taught him to lie,” sighed Matt, head drooping, remembering the lessons he taught Peter about how to pass a lie detector test. Worked on his hearing too apparently. (He thought Peter smelt of Ned’s apartment and shower gel after he came back from walking Frank’s dog.)
“I take it back,” Negasonic said suddenly, eyebrow raised, and arms crossed. Impressed. “Spider-Man won.”