Chapter 16: The Insomnia Shadow Spider
Wayne's acting skills were top-notch, but they didn't completely dispel the Shadow Spider's doubts. An ordinary person wouldn't run in the middle of the night, much less possess the courage to investigate an alley after hearing a violent thud.
The first thing Noir had to do, however, was protect his identity. The Spider-Man of this universe had died publicly. If he failed to hide his presence, he might be accused of perpetuating a massive hoax.
"Oh, no, no, no," Noir quickly spoke, adjusting his fedora. "I'm just a huge Spider-Man fan and added some of my own ideas to the suit. You have to admit, Spider-Man wouldn't just fall off a wall, right?"
"Sir, why are you out running at this hour?" Noir immediately pivoted, taking the offensive. He felt the question was warranted.
"Insomnia," Wayne replied, rubbing his eyebrows with an expression of profound discomfort. "Too much pressure lately. I thought running might tire me out enough to sleep."
Wayne's tone was full of genuine anxiety and helplessness. "They say if you're tired enough, you sleep well, right? I don't want to rely on pills. If I keep them at home, I'm afraid I might lose control and commit suicide one day."
Noir was momentarily speechless. In his time, people didn't rely on sleeping pills. He felt that as technology advanced, people simply grew more weary.
Noir tentatively lowered his guard against Wayne. He stepped forward, intending to place a comforting hand on Wayne's shoulder. The optics were a bit awkward—a 1.8-meter man comforting the 1.9-meter Wayne—but Noir wanted to test the man's reaction. An anxious insomniac would be naturally wary of a stranger invading their personal space.
Noir felt Wayne's momentary resistance, but it quickly subsided. Seeing the compliance, Noir immediately dropped his hand and apologized.
"I'm sorry, I have a habit of doing that when I talk to people," Noir apologized, tipping his hat.
"It's alright," Wayne replied, his expression visibly stiffening.
"I wish you comfortable sleep in the future." Noir exited the alley, his eyes still watching Wayne. He wanted to see if Wayne's behavior changed now that he was alone.
But Wayne's reaction was textbook for an anxious person: he watched the strange figure leave, then pulled up his tracksuit and sprinted back in the direction he came from.
From the upstairs window, Noir finally relaxed. "He truly is a cautious guy."
Wayne, running back to his home, silently admired the Shadow Spider's caution. Given the danger in his 1930s New York, that level of paranoia was necessary for survival.
But the encounter reinforced his determination to deal with Kingpin. If he couldn't even go for a run without being monitored, his plans were compromised.
After the Shadow Spider returned to Aunt May's house, Peni Parker was still awake, waiting anxiously.
"What happened?" Peni was worried. In an unfamiliar world where one Spider-Man had already been killed, anyone could be next.
"A guy who was running because of insomnia, trying to tire himself out enough to sleep," Noir told Peni, speaking sincerely.
Peni sighed in relief. "Insomnia is always awful." She understood. In her technologically advanced future, there was still no cure for insomnia, only drugs or expensive "sleep pods" to forcefully induce rest.
"Okay, go back to sleep, kid. You need your rest," Noir urged Peni.
"You should too," Peni insisted. She was still worried that Noir had gone out without telling the others.
"I know." Noir nodded.
He lay down on the sofa, making a show of closing his eyes to indicate he was tired. Peni smiled, satisfied, and left. Since she was sleepy, he must be too.
But once Peni was gone, Noir's weariness vanished. He opened his big white eyes, wide awake. He had a nagging feeling that he had missed something crucial in his meeting with Wayne.
"What was it?"
Noir stared at the warm ceiling, falling into deep thought. He realized, with a jolt, that he seemed to have been led into the very condition Wayne described: insomnia.
He closed his eyes and repeated, Sleep, sleep. But no matter how hard he tried, he felt wide awake. The sensation was profoundly uncomfortable.
Wayne, unaware he had inflicted his sleeplessness upon the detective Spider-Man, was back at home, stretching to ensure his flexibility. He knew that any lapse in conditioning could lead to mistakes in combat, potentially proving fatal.
(End of Chapter)
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