Chapter Text
Peter woke up to the sound of rain. Again. He hated Gotham. He hated Gotham's weather. He hated Gotham's crime rate. He hated Gotham's architecture. And most importantly, he hated the fact that he was still ten years old.
He rolled over on the couch and buried his face into the pillow.
"Good Morning, Peter."
"No."
"It is currently 8:14 am."
"No."
"You have been awake for approximately 30 seconds."
"Exactly, too early."
Karen was silent for a moment. "Would you still like me to turn off the alarm?"
"What alarm?"
"The one you've been ignoring for the past 14 minutes."
Peter slowly lifted his head, "...Oh." He reached over and grabbed his phone, staring at the screen.
8:14.
He groaned. "Why did you let me sleep this long?"
"You requested that I wake you at 8."
"I requested that you wake me at 8." He repeated.
"Yes."
"It's 8:14."
"Correct."
Peter stared at the phone. "Karen."
"Yes?"
"You're fired."
"I am not employed."
"You're still fired."
"I see."
Peter flopped back onto the couch. He really didn’t want to get up. Unfortunately, Karen had already found a way to make him. "You have an appointment at nine."
Peter’s eyes opened. "What appointment?"
"Your school placement examination."
Peter stared at the ceiling. "...Right." He had completely forgotten. Peter sat up and rubbed his face. He looked around the apartment.
The place was still a mess, but it was considerably better than when he’d first arrived.
The floor was clean.
The walls were mostly scrubbed.
The broken chair had been repaired.
The table was functional.
He’d even managed to get the sink working properly.
It wasn’t home.
It wasn’t even close.
But it was somewhere.
Peter stood and stretched.
His back cracked.
He winced.
"Ow."
"You are still adjusting to your altered body."
"Thanks, Karen. Very helpful."
"You're welcome."
Peter grabbed the clothes he’d laid out the night before.
Baggy jeans.
A faded shirt.
Jason’s jacket.
The jacket had become something of a security blanket.
Peter wasn’t sure why.
Maybe because it was warm.
Maybe because it smelled familiar.
Maybe because it was the first thing anyone in this universe had given him.
He pulled it on and adjusted the sleeves. They still swallowed his hands.
Peter reached into his backpack and pulled out the small white hearing aids. They were one of the first things he’d made after recreating Karen.
Technically, they weren’t really hearing aids. Peter could hear perfectly fine.
Maybe a little too well.
The devices were mostly designed to filter out the constant background noise that his enhanced senses picked up. Karen was connected directly to them, allowing her to speak to him without him needing to carry around his phone.
Peter carefully hooked them over his ears.
A soft beep sounded. "Good Morning, Peter."
"Morning."
The familiar sound of Karen’s voice made Peter relax slightly.
He’d gotten used to having her there.
It was comforting.
Almost like having a piece of home with him.
Peter adjusted the settings.
"Noise reduction?"
"Still at 40%."
"Make it 60."
"That may interfere with your ability to hear people around you."
"That's the point."
Karen paused. "60%."
The sounds around Peter immediately dulled.
The rain became quieter.
The distant traffic became a low hum.
The apartment stopped sounding like it was full of people despite being completely empty.
Peter sighed. "Much better."
Karen’s voice remained clear. "Your hearing aids are functioning properly."
"They’re not hearing aids."
"Your medical records say otherwise."
Peter grinned. "That’s because I needed something believable."
"Your explanation for the devices is that you have a hearing impairment."
"Which is technically true if you count having super-hearing as hearing wrong.”
"I believe that is not how hearing impairment is defined."
"Details." Peter grabbed his backpack. "How long is this test supposed to take?"
"Approximately three hours.”
Peter froze. "…Three hours?"
"Yes."
"No."
"Peter."
"No."
"You need to attend school."
"I know."
"You cannot remain in the apartment indefinitely."
"I know."
"You also cannot continue wandering around Gotham alone."
"I know."
"And…"
"I know!" Peter grabbed his backpack. "Fine. I’ll take the stupid test." He paused. "...Can I finish it early?"
Karen was quiet. "I believe that depends on your performance."
Peter grinned. "Then let’s get this over with."
The school was enormous.
Peter stood outside the building and stared up at it. It looked nothing like his old school. There were too many windows. Too many people. Too many teenagers. Peter immediately wanted to leave.
"Karen?"
"Yes?"
"I’ve changed my mind."
"About school?"
"About everything."
"You cannot simply leave."
"Watch me." Peter turned around.
Karen spoke through his hearing aids. "Peter."
He stopped. "...What?"
"If you leave, you will have to take the examination another day."
Peter slowly turned back toward the school "…Fine."
He walked inside.
The receptionist looked down at him. Then at his paperwork. Then back at him. "Peter Fitzpatrick?"
"Yep."
"You’re here for the placement examination?"
"Yep."
She glanced at his records. Her expression changed slightly. "You’re the student with the hearing impairment."
Peter blinked. Then remembered. Right. Karen had put that in his records. "Yeah."
"Do you need any accommodations?"
Peter shook his head. "No, I’m good."
She glanced at the hearing aids. "If you need anything, just let your teacher know."
"Okay."
She pointed toward the hallway. "Room 204."
"Thanks." Peter walked away. The moment he was out of sight, he whispered, "Karen."
"Yes?"
"You never told me they were going to ask about that."
"It is listed in your medical records."
"I know, but…" Peter sighed. "I forgot."
"You have only been aware of your identity for approximately 24 hours."
"Still." Peter pushed open the classroom door.
A teacher looked up. "Peter?"
"Yep."
"Come in."
Peter sat down at the desk. The teacher placed a stack of papers in front of him. "These are the placement tests. Take your time." Then the teacher went back to her desk.
Peter looked down.
Math.
Easy.
Science.
Easy.
English.
Easy.
History.
Less easy.
Peter picked up his pencil.
He finished the math section in less than ten minutes.
Then science.
Then English.
Then history.
He flipped the pages over.
There were still more.
He kept going.
Twenty minutes later, Peter put his pencil down.
The teacher looked up. "Finished?"
"Yep."
She glanced at the clock. "...Already?"
Peter nodded. "Yeah."
She looked through the test. Peter watched her expression slowly change. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No." She looked back at him. "These are all correct."
"Oh." Peter smiled. She turned another page.
"You completed this entire section?"
"Yeah."
"In seven minutes?"
Peter shrugged. "I read fast." The teacher stared at him. Peter smiled. “Spi—…” He stopped himself. "…science."
The teacher blinked. "What?"
"Nothing." Peter sat back.
Karen spoke quietly through his hearing aids. "You nearly revealed your abilities."
"I know."
"You need to be careful."
"I know."
The teacher handed him another test. "This one is more advanced."
Peter looked down. "Okay.."
He finished that one too. Then another. And another. Eventually, the teacher simply stared at him. Peter stared back. "Is there a problem?"
"No." She looked down at the papers. "I’ve never seen a student finish these this quickly."
Peter shrugged. "I’m kinda smart."
"Apparently."
Peter smiled. Then he remembered something. He slowly looked down at the last page. He had gotten every single question right. Peter groaned internally. He was supposed to be pretending to be normal.
Karen spoke. "You may wish to intentionally answer some questions incorrectly."
Peter looked at the teacher. Then at the test. Then back at the teacher. He deliberately circled the wrong answer. Then another. Then another. The teacher frowned. Peter froze.
"Peter?"
"Yeah?"
"Why did you change your answers?"
Peter’s brain stopped. "...Because..." He needed an excuse. Any excuse. "I got confused."
The teacher looked unconvinced. Peter smiled. It probably looked terrible.
Eventually, she gathered the tests. "That’s enough for today."
Peter sighed in relief. "Thank God." The teacher blinked. Peter quickly corrected himself. "Thank goodness."
The results came back later that afternoon. Peter sat in the office chair, swinging his legs because his feet didn’t reach the ground.
The school administrator stared at the paperwork. Peter stared back.
"So…" She adjusted her glasses. "Your test scores are quite unusual."
Peter swallowed. "Bad unusual?"
"No."
"Good unusual?"
"Very."
Peter relaxed. "Okay."
She placed the papers down. "Based on your results, we believe you would benefit from being placed in the senior grade.l
Peter blinked. "…The senior grade?"
"Yes."
Peter stared at her. Then at Karen’s little icon on his phone. Then back at the administrator. "You’re serious?"
"Yes."
Peter’s eyes lit up. "That means…" He paused. "How much school do I have to make up?"
The administrator looked confused. "None. You’ll simply attend the appropriate classes."
Peter nearly smiled. Karen spoke quietly through his hearing aids. "This would reduce the number of years you need to attend school."
Peter’s smile widened. "That’s perfect."
The administrator frowned slightly. "You seem unusually enthusiastic."
Peter immediately composed himself. "Education is important." Karen was silent. Peter could practically hear her judging him. "Very Important."
"Of course."
"Love education."
The administrator smiled slightly. "I’ll have someone bring you your uniform."
Peter blinked. "Uniform?"
"Yes. The school has a required uniform."
"Oh."
A few minutes later, Peter was handed a neatly folded uniform. He stared down at it. It was considerably nicer than anything he’d been wearing since arriving in Gotham. He held up the jacket. "…This is actually pretty nice."
"You’re expected to wear it starting tomorrow."
Peter nodded. "Okay." He looked down at the rest of it. "Is this all mine?"
"Yes."
Peter smiled faintly. It was stupid. It was just a school uniform. But it was the first time since waking up in Gotham that someone had given him something specifically because he belonged somewhere. Even if that somewhere was school. He folded the uniform carefully and put it into his backpack. Then he looked back at the administrator. "So.. I'm done?"
"Yes."
Peter stood immediately. "Great!"
Peter walked out of the school with his backpack over one shoulder. The uniform was safely tucked inside.
He’d also gotten a school ID. His name was printed across the front.
Peter Benjamin Fitzpatrick.
Peter stared at it as he walked. The name still felt strange. But maybe he’d get used to it. He put the ID away.
Then Karen spoke through his hearing aids. "Peter."
"Yeah?"
"You need to stop by the bank."
Peter frowned. "Why?"
"Your guardian’s bank account is ready."
Peter stopped walking. "Oh." He'd almost forgotten. Karen had created a fake guardian for him as part of his identity. Someone who technically existed on paper, but would never actually have to show up anywhere.
His name was Elliot Hart. Peter still wasn’t entirely sure how Karen had managed to create an entire adult. Then again, she had somehow created birth records, medical records, school records, and an entire history for him. A fake adult probably wasn’t the strangest thing she’d done.
"Where?"
"Approximately 3 blocks from here."
Peter sighed. "Fine." He changed direction.
The bank wasn’t particularly impressive. Just another building tucked between a pharmacy and a small grocery store.
Peter pushed open the door. The warmth immediately hit him. He stepped inside and glanced around. There were only a few people inside.
"Karen?"
"Your guardian’s P.O. box is located inside the post office section."
Peter looked toward the back. "Right." He walked over to the row of boxes and found the number Karen had given him.
He pulled out the key that waited. It clicked. Peter opened the little door. Inside was a small envelope. Peter grabbed it.
The name printed across the front wasn’t his.
ELLIOT HART
Peter stared at it for a moment. "That’s weird."
"It is meant to be."
Peter opened the envelope. Inside was a bank card. He pulled it out. His own name wasn’t anywhere on it. "Whose name is this under again?"
"Elliot Hart. Your legal guardian."
Peter looked at the card. "So technically, I’m not supposed to have this."
"Technically, you are a dependent of the account holder."
"That sounds suspicious."
"It is entirely legal according to the records I created."
Peter stared at the card. "That’s even more suspicious."
Karen ignored him. "The account has been set up to provide you with access to funds for food, clothing, school supplies, and other necessities."
Peter sighed. "So this is basically my allowance."
"Essentially."
Peter slipped the card into his backpack. "Okay." He started toward the exit. Then stopped. "Wait."
"Yes?"
"How am I supposed to use it if it’s not in my name?"
"You aren’t."
Peter blinked. "...What?"
"The card is intended to remain with your guardian."
Peter stared at the card. "Then why did I just walk all the way here?"
"Because I have also prepared a secondary card."
Peter slowly reached back into the envelope. Sure enough, there was another card. He pulled it out. This one had "Peter Benjamin Fitzpatrick" printed across the front.
Peter stared at it. "…You could’ve led with that."
"I believed the distinction was important."
"Karen."
"Yes?"
"Sometimes you make things unnecessarily complicated."
"I’ve noticed."
Peter slipped the second card into his backpack. He looked down at the guardian’s card again. "So this one stays hidden?"
"Correct."
"And this one is what I use?"
"Correct."
Peter nodded. "Okay." He put Elliot’s card back into the envelope and tucked it safely into the inside pocket of his backpack.
Then he looked down at his own card. His own fake card. His own fake name. His own fake life. Peter swallowed. "Karen?"
"Yes?"
"Atleast this way I don't have to steal from Bruce anymore."
There was a brief pause. "That was very necessary."
Peter looked away. "You literally stole from him."
"I transferred funds."
"Same thing.
"I disagree." Peter sighed and pushed open the door. Cold rain immediately hit his face. He pulled Jason’s jacket tighter around himself. "Let’s just go home."
"Of course, Peter."
Peter was almost halfway back to the apartment when Karen spoke again. "I have received your class schedule."
Peter sighed. "Please don’t tell me there’s anything weird."
"You have several advanced classes."
"Obviously."
"Your first class is mathematics."
"Fine."
"Then science."
"Fine."
"Then history."
"Fine."
"Then english."
"Fine." Peter kept walking.
"And after lunch, you have computer science."
Peter stopped. "Seriously?"
"Yes."
Peter grinned. "Okay, maybe school won’t be so bad."
Karen was quiet. "There is one additional detail."
Peter’s smile faded. "What?"
"Your computer science class is shared with another student."
"Who?"
There was a pause.'"Tim Drake."
Peter stopped walking.
Rain continued falling around him.
"…You’re joking."
"I am not."
Peter stared blankly ahead.
Of course.
Of course it was Tim.
The one person he absolutely did not need to see again.
The kid who had been in the library.
The kid who had already seen him with Barbara.
The kid who was probably smart enough to realize that something was wrong.
Peter sighed. "Karen?"
"Yes?"
"I hate this universe."
"I am aware."
Peter continued walking.
Tomorrow was going to be horrible.