Chapter Text
Damian narrowed his eyes. “Tt. I don’t sleep. I train.”
Peter threw his hands up. “Of course you do.”
Before the conversation could get more awkward, Alfred’s calm voice crackled through the intercom.
“Master Bruce. Nightwing has returned. Shall I bring him in?”
Batman gave a short nod toward the ceiling. “Yes.”
Moments later, the door to the Batcave hissed open again. Nightwing stepped in, arms folded but his expression softer than the others’. “Our mystery spider is awake. How’s the hospitality, Spidey?”
Peter gave a half shrug, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I woke up strapped to a table surrounded by bats and billion-dollar tech, so... I’d rate it three stars. Needs better bedside manner.”
Nightwing smirked. Damian scowled.
Batman cut in. “Where are you from?”
Peter hesitated. “Manhattan. Queens, to be specific.”
“I meant dimension.”
Peter flinched. “Oh. Right. So we’re just casually talking about the multiverse now? Cool. That’s totally normal.”
He ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. “Last thing I remember, I was... dying. There was a war. A really bad one. Mr. Stark—Tony—he was there. Then suddenly I woke up in a dumpster next to discount Pennywise.”
“That’s Joker,” Damian growled.
Peter raised a brow. “Yeah, I figured. Guy smells like regret and gasoline.”
Nightwing leaned against the console, arms crossed. “Sounds like some kind of dimensional displacement. Boom Tube? Spell gone wrong?”
Batman said nothing but tapped a few keys. Multiple screens blinked to life, one of them displaying atmospheric readings around the alley where Peter appeared. Strange spikes in cosmic radiation pulsed like echoes.
Peter peeked at the data. “I don’t know much about this Earth, but that? That doesn’t look friendly.”
“You’re right,” Batman said. “It’s not.”
Damian paced slightly, glaring at Peter from the side. “So what’s the plan? Dump him back in his own world? Or let him keep running around Gotham punching lunatics?”
Peter raised a hand again. “Still in the room.”
Batman studied him, voice unreadable. “Until we understand the nature of the rift, he stays here.”
Peter blinked. “Here-here? Like in Gotham?”
Nightwing gave him a sideways glance. “Unless you prefer Metropolis.”
“Nope. Heard they’ve got aliens. Gotham’s fine. Totally fine.”
“Then we’ll keep an eye on you,” Batman said. “Nightwing, you’re responsible for his integration. Damian, monitor his activity.”
Peter frowned. “Wait, you’re assigning babysitters?”
“Welcome to Gotham,” Nightwing said with a grin. “You break it, you buy it.”
Later That Night
The Gotham skyline was a jagged silhouette against the low-hanging clouds. Rain misted the rooftops. Peter sat crouched on the edge of an abandoned warehouse, watching Nightwing pick a lock with casual ease.
“This feels weird,” Peter muttered. “Like I’m cheating on New York with its goth cousin.”
Nightwing chuckled. “You’ll get used to it.”
Peter looked over. “You really think I’ll get back home?”
Nightwing paused. “We’ll figure it out.”
Peter looked away, voice soft. “Back in my world... we lost people. Good ones. I think I was one of them. I shouldn’t be here.”
Nightwing didn’t answer right away. “You might be right. But until we understand why you’re here, you’re not alone.”
Peter offered a half-smile. “You’re way nicer than Robin.”
Nightwing smirked. “That’s a low bar.”
Inside the warehouse, something clattered.
They both tensed.
Nightwing held a finger up. “Stay close.”
Peter pulled his mask back on. “This is the part where something explodes, isn’t it?”
Inside the Warehouse
Dim fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting the warehouse in pulses of green and shadow. Nightwing stepped in first, escrima sticks in hand. Peter dropped from the ceiling behind him, silent.
Then something clanged behind a stack of rusted barrels.
Peter's spider-sense flared.
Nightwing tensed. “You hear that?”
Before Peter could respond, a loud voice rang out—cheerful, familiar, and deeply wrong for the vibe of the room:
“Oh, finally! Took you two long enough! I’ve been monologuing to an empty warehouse for twenty minutes!”
A man in a red-and-black suit flipped down from a support beam, dual katanas on his back, twin pistols at his hips, and a grin that somehow radiated noise.
Peter blinked. “Oh no.”
Nightwing looked confused. “Friend of yours?”
Deadpool threw his arms wide. “Friend? Friend?! Spidey and I go way back! Remember that time with the tacos and the Skrulls and that sentient llama with anxiety issues?”
Peter slapped a hand to his forehead. “Wade.”
Deadpool pointed at him. “See? He knows me! It’s your friendly neighborhood meta-aware maniac!”
Nightwing stepped between them. “You know this guy?”
“Unfortunately, yeah,” Peter muttered. “He’s... technically a hero. But also a menace. But like, a funny menace? Sometimes.”
Deadpool walked in slow, exaggerated circles. “So, this Gotham! It’s dark. Moody. Broody. I love it! I’ve already started writing a Batman/Deadpool crossover musical. Working title: ‘Batarangs and Bang Bangs.’”
Peter’s voice rose an octave. “Why are you here, Wade?”
Deadpool tilted his head. “Multiverse spit me out just like you, Spandex Junior. One minute I was in the middle of a hot dog eating contest in Jersey, next minute—BLAM—I’m in a back alley with some dude in clown makeup trying to recruit me for ‘Team Smile Forever.’”
Peter groaned. “Oh god, he met the Joker.”
Deadpool wiggled his fingers. “He offered me a hyena. I respectfully declined. With grenades.”
Nightwing rubbed his temples. “So now there are two of you?”
Deadpool gasped. “Two of me? I wish! But thank you for the flattery, tall dark and circus-trained. Though your brooding game? Solid 8 out of 10. Just needs more cape.”
Peter stepped forward. “Okay, Wade, look. You being here is already chaos. We’ve got enough problems without you accidentally blowing up the Batmobile or trying to make out with Harley Quinn.”
Deadpool pulled out a notepad. “Okay, fine, I’ll cross off ‘steal Batmobile tires’ and ‘bring Harley cupcakes.’”
He paused.
“But I’m not crossing off ‘convince Batman to adopt me.’ I want matching grappling hooks, dammit.”
Nightwing looked at Peter, exasperated. “He’s seriously from your world?”
“Yeah,” Peter sighed. “The bad parts.”
“HEY!” Deadpool shouted. “You love me and you know it! Besides, if there’s one thing I bring to the table—it’s unpredictable plot advancement!”
Just then, the warehouse shook with a sudden rumble. Somewhere deeper inside, a wall crumbled—and an eerie, swirling red portal crackled to life, illuminating the space in sickly light.
Peter’s eyes widened. “That wasn’t there five minutes ago.”
Deadpool leaned over. “Ooooooo. Shiny. Is that our way home?”
Peter started toward it cautiously. “Or a big glowing ‘do not touch’ sign…”
Nightwing radioed Batman immediately. “We’ve got another rift. Confirmed breach. And... a mercenary in a red suit who won’t stop talking.”
“Understood,” came Batman’s voice. “Contain them. We’re on our way.”
Deadpool cracked his neck. “Contain me? Pfft. Come on, Bats, live a little!”
Peter grabbed his arm. “Wade. Focus. If we’re both here, and these portals are opening… it means something is wrong across the multiverse.”
Deadpool nodded sagely. “Multiversal instability... Sounds like a Tuesday.”
The portal pulsed again—then sparked violently—and something stepped through.
Not human.
Not friendly.
Its eyes glowed like coals, and it hissed in a voice that cut through the room like a blade:
“Target acquired: Variant anomalies.”
Deadpool raised a hand. “Okay. I’m voting we run.”
Peter nodded. “Agreed.”
Nightwing didn’t even wait—he fired a grappling hook toward the ceiling. “Move!”
As they all scattered, Deadpool grinned under his mask.
“Oh yeah. This crossover’s gonna rock.”