[Third Person POV]
Gwen, Aria, and Bruce worked quietly in the lab. Each of them stood before their respective patients, their eyes flickering between the physical bodies lying unconscious and the translucent holographic projections floating in front of them. Streams of red blood cells magnified on the display flowed like rivers, but streaks of green energy traced through them, evidence of gamma radiation mixed with their cells.
Gwen leaned closer to her terminal as she examined General Ross' blood patterns. Her brow furrowed when she noticed the familiar waves embedded deep within his cells. She detached the holographic chart and slid it across to Bruce.
"Here," Gwen said, offering the data to him. "Since they're related… there might be some relativity in how the gamma radiation affected them. Patterns, similarities, something we can use."
Bruce accepted the files without a word, his expression unreadable. He hummed low in thought, cross-referencing Ross' cell images with the samples of his own blood saved in the system. His fingers hesitated before typing in new comparisons. He already knew what he'd see—but knowing didn't make it easier to face.
Behind him, Gwen exhaled, her shoulders sagging with a quiet sigh. She turned slightly, her gaze resting on Bruce's rigid posture. Her voice was gentle, but strained. "Please don't be mad at Peter. He's… he's really trying his best. You know he feels guilty about what happened."
For a long moment Bruce didn't respond, his eyes glued to the glowing projections. His jaw clenched, then finally he spoke, his tone even but laced with weight. "I'm not mad at him. Trust me… you'd know if I was mad."
"Liar." Aria's flat monotone cut through the room as she adjusted the scanners around the Leader's restrained body, her fingers methodically noting fluctuations in his brainwaves.
Bruce's brow twitched. He glanced at her, then back down to his console. He released a heavy sigh, giving in. "…Fine. Yes. I'm mad at Peter. I understand he's just a kid who wants to do what's right, but that doesn't erase what happened. And…" His voice darkened as his eyes flickered with a faint, dangerous green glow before dimming again. "…he's not the only one I'm mad at right now."
Gwen's gaze darted between Jennifer Walters, still unconscious on the bed, and Bruce's tight features. "Is it the Leader, then? Is that who you're angry with—for what he did to Betty, and to your cousin?"
"Of course," Bruce snapped, his irritation leaking through before he caught himself. He rubbed his face, trying to steady his breathing. "But he wasn't who I was referring to."
"He's mad at himself," Aria said plainly, still not sparing him a glance.
Bruce grunted, a sound halfway between agreement and frustration. "Yes. I'm mad at myself—for a lot of reasons. It's my blood that turned her into a monster. My fault she's lying here like this. I trusted the judgment of a child, I met with Betty countless times and never once realized she wasn't herself. That she was under mind control." His voice cracked slightly, and he pressed his palms against the table, knuckles whitening. "I don't even know when it began. I saw the signs, but I brushed them off—told myself it was just the stress of spying on her father. I failed her. I failed them all."
Gwen's lips pressed into a thin line. She took a step closer, shaking her head firmly. "First of all, don't call her a monster. That's far-fetched and you know it. None of us here see either you or the Hulk as monsters, and that goes for Betty too. You know her better than anyone—when she wakes up and finds out what happened, do you honestly think she's going to see herself as a monster?"
Bruce shut his eyes for a long moment, then let out a sharp exhale. "…No. She wouldn't. She'll… she'll see it as an opportunity."
"Exactly." Gwen folded her arms, her tone sharper now. "So don't reduce her to something she isn't. And about Peter—you wouldn't have trusted his judgment if you didn't know, deep down, that he had a point. Ross was dangerous. He is dangerous. Someone had to keep an eye on him, and this… this just proves why. So don't dismiss Peter's choice as some naïve child's mistake. I may be biased, but I believe Peter's actions were the right ones. The outcome is tragic, yes, but the reasoning was sound. Sometimes doing what's right doesn't come without consequences."
She didn't stop there, her conviction rising as she continued. "As for Betty—yes, you can blame yourself for not noticing sooner. But don't think you're the only one. None of us realized she wasn't herself until it was too late. We all failed her. It was supposed to be our job to make sure she was safe, that she had someone to lean on. And we fell short."
Her voice softened then, guilt flickering across her features. Gwen lowered her head and bowed deeply, her sincerity clear in every word. "And for that, Bruce… I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry as well," Aria finally spoke, her voice low. She didn't turn to face Bruce or Gwen, her eyes locked on the faint pulse reading on the screen. "It was my job to look after Betty. My responsibility. I could point fingers, say I was tricked… but none of that changes the truth. I failed."
Bruce exhaled slowly through his nose, a sound caught between frustration and weariness. His hands tightened around the edge of the desk before he forced himself to relax, shoulders slumping. "You two don't need to apologize. Not for this. What's done is done." His voice was hoarse, heavy with finality. "All we can do now… is deal with the consequences."
The room fell quiet again, the hum of the machines filling the silence.
---
"That's not going to turn out well," Nightwing muttered, arms crossed as his sharp eyes scanned the levitating holographic blueprints of the power dampeners. The glowing structures rotated slowly in the air, lines of coded schematics floating beside them.
"I know," Peter admitted, leaning against his cluttered desk with his arms crossed. His messy hair fell into his face, but his expression was serious. "That's why I wanted your second opinion."
Harry circled the projection, studying the design. He frowned deeply. "Honestly? The idea is solid, and I get why you'd want to make these. But Pete… this is only good until someone flips it on us. It's almost like putting a loaded gun on the table in the middle of a crowded room. Even if you never fire it, the danger of it being used is always there." He shook his head, letting out a humorless laugh. "Hell, just having the blueprints alone is a risk. God forbid someone actually manages to steal them."
Peter groaned, dragging his hand down his face. "Ugh. Don't even say that out loud."
For a moment, silence lingered between them—then Harry shrugged, smirking faintly. "I say let's do it."
Peter blinked, tilting his head. "Wait—seriously?"
"Yeah." Harry held up a finger. "But only if we build countermeasures. Worst-case scenarios, rare-case safeguards—like a master override code that only we know. Or we design them with failsafes, so they can't be turned against us if they fall into the wrong hands."
Peter tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. "Okay, but what if one of us goes rogue again—like last time?" His tone was skeptical, testing.
Harry hesitated, lips pursing. "…Ah. Fair point." He ran a hand through his hair before sighing. "Look, Pete—some things are just worth the risk. Do you think half the tech we use today would even exist if people were too afraid of what could go wrong? Cars kill thousands every year, planes crash, nuclear energy can level cities… but they still got built. And humanity kept moving forward. That's the nature of progress."
Peter's lips slowly curved into a small smile. He pushed himself upright, arms unfolding. "Okay… I'm convinced. But just so you know, the only reason I brought this to you was so that if this blows up in our faces, I've got someone else to take the blame."
Harry froze, staring at him blankly. "Wha—? You son of a—mmm." He growled, glaring playfully at his best friend. "Fine. If this goes south, I'll take the blame."
Peter grinned, clapping his hands together. "Perfect. That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Now, come here and help me make these so you can share the blame even further."
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning. "You're a dick. I hope you're aware of that."
Peter laughed, the tension in the room easing. "I thought that was supposed to be your name, Mr. Grayson."
Harry froze mid-step, groaning as he dragged his palms down his face. "Oh God. Please don't tell me you still have me saved as that in your phone."
Peter smirked, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Who knows?"
"Unbelievable," Harry muttered, but the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed the smile he was holding back as he walked over to join him.
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