Chen Mo was still gripping Bruce's cuff when the voice came through the communicator.
The two of them were ambiguous about their relationship; the real thing went harder than the fan works.
But they had to talk business eventually.
"I really miss those happy days when all I had to do was deal with Gotham's gang wars and wind up the penguin toy. Sure, my Bruce lived in an attic back then, never knowing where his next meal would come from, but at least we didn't have to handle interstellar diplomatic crises."
Chen Mo's lament came from the heart.
Diana reported the enemy ships' adjusted positions. Bruce picked up the terminal and marked the new coordinates on the map. Chen Mo followed the map upward. A vast stretch of ship hull loomed over the neighborhood, making the familiar buildings look tiny.
This day had been so long.
Chen Mo let go of the cuff and leaned back against the pillow.
The examination next door ended, and Jason helped Peter back. A few curls on his forehead were plastered down with sweat. Even after sitting down, he kept staring at the map, his brow tightly furrowed.
Chen Mo brought over the water from the bedside and set it within Peter's easy reach.
"Spider healing really isn't good enough. Next time we run into Deadpool, we should pin him down and draw another couple of tubes of blood. Have some water first, Peter."
"You need to rest too."
"I am resting. Lying down, even letting Bat pick my clothes. See how obedient I am?"
Peter's eyes shifted back from Bruce's face, a smile squeezing into his tired expression.
"That one looks nice."
"Looks like our Spider-Man likes it. You can take it back to New York. Iron Man will know the moment