Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This isn’t Peter’s first time as an intern nor is it his first time being more skilled than his bosses expect. It is his first time forging legal documents to get a job.

Peter Parker-Stark is was Spider-Man. It was him for two years. He became an Avenger and even moved in with the team after May got sick. Then shit hit the fan. May died. Everyone in the world had forgotten Peter Parker. Spider-Man was a manace, a murder, something to be hated.

So when Peter found a book with a spell that promised a way to a new life, he tried it. That was a mistake. He died. His heart slowed to stop, his lungs froze, and his brain died. The whole shebang. Then he woke up in some random alley in a city he’d never heard of. He forged papers, got a paid internship, and rented an apartment. Everything was going well.

He loved his job. Wayne Tech had a job fair twice a year where they allowed potential employees to show off their talents in competitions for a chance to work there. Peter had passed and landed a job as a paid intern in research and development.

The workshops and labs felt like home. The coworkers were funny and kind. The bosses were generally fair.

“Hey, Peter!” greeted Liam, one of the other interns.

“Hey, Li!”

“What are you working on today?” the tall boy asked, wrapping an arm around Peter’s shoulders.

Peter grinned. “Ms. Clark has me on coffee duty first but I’m hoping to squeeze some lab time in after.”

“Man, Isabella really has it out for you! She’s never made someone stay on coffee duty this long, especially since you aren’t the newbie anymore. Ooh, what a waste of talent,” The boy wailed dramatically.

Peter shoved him off playfully before sending out the coffee text through the company. They had coffee machines in almost every room but there was something special about Brew Haven, the small coffee shop between Bludhaven and Gotham.

The orders started pouring in so Peter activated a program he created to save those orders along with who ordered them as well as send the list to the coffee shop. He even added a short bit to organize a list with the orders and names by floor and office.

He snagged the insulated coffee bags and started to the coffee shop. The jog to the shop was always nice this time of year. Gangs and muggers ignored him now that they knew he’d hold his ground (and didn’t even carry any money). Civilians just gave an odd look at the jogging and moved out of the way. It was peaceful.

Brew Haven was quaint and cute, yet somehow managed to make a building's worth of coffee in an extraordinarily quick amount of time. Stella, the barista, was a happy woman whose hair was as vibrant as her personality. It seemed to be a different color each week (Peter especially loved it when she had a sunset look where it faded from red to orange to pink.) This week her hair was lime green and bright blue.

She gave Peter his normal, free bakery treat as he waited for the order to finish. The shop seemed to never have lines but was always busy. It was fascinating to watch. Peter was convinced Stella had powers that somehow let her do this.

Today's order was large so Peter filled both bags up, wearing one on his back and the other on his front as well as a final cup holder held carefully in his hands. The journey back was always longer. Jogging would spill the coffee and civilians didn’t move out of his way. Thankfully muggers have only ruined two orders. They had learned he didn’t have any money on him nor was he easy to beat up, even with the bulky bags on his front and back.

When he finally made it to the tower, he set all the coffees on the cart, grouped by floor. He had a rare order for one of the top floors where the bosses work. They typically had their direct employees handle coffee runs so it was the first time Peter would be going up there.

He started at the lowest floor and made his way up. Marketing had quite a few orders today.

“Hey, Pete! Do you have my tea?” Asked Mavis, falling into step beside him.

He grabbed their cup and handed it to them with a grin. “You guys have a lot of orders today! Something going on?”

“Ugh, yeah. The new WaynePhone is getting released so we are all working overtime to make sure it goes smoothly and hits its projected sales.”

Peter patted them on the shoulder. “There, there. I seem to recall you telling me marketing was easier than R and D. I’m sure that’s true!”

“You’re a little shit, Parker. I was trying to get you to come over to the dark side but noo, you are too loyal.”

Peter cackled as Mavis veered off to their desk and moved to hand off some more cups.

Peter huffed as he saw the legal department on his list next. They haven’t liked him since day one for a reason he hasn’t figured out.

“Stark. Where’s my drink?” One of the legal workers asked.

“Right here, sir,” he stated gently as he grabbed the right drink.

The man huffed with a scowl and demanded, “Did you mess this up again?”

Peter shook his head and pulled out his phone. “I have it listed that you wanted a hazelnut coffee with precisely a fourth of a cup of oat milk and a single sugar packet.”

The man harrumphed and stormed away. Peter sighed in relief. He typically grilled Peter longer, always upset with how long it took or how hot it was or even that he wanted something else.

He kept a meek demeanor as he politely handed the rest of the drinks to the appropriate people and sighed in relief as he made his way to the elevator.

It wasn’t the legal team's fault they were overworked and overwhelmed but he wished they made more of an effort to not make it other people's problem as well.

He sped through a few more uneventful floors before making his way up to the final delivery. When he exited the elevator on the top floor, a guard stopped him.

“Badge?”

He offered his badge with a smile and grimaced when the guard scowled.

“You don’t have access to this floor. What is the purpose behind your visit here?”

“Uh, a ‘Mr. Drake-Wayne’ ordered an extra large cup consisting entirely of espresso shots,” he read off of his phone.

A door flew open and a frazzled man close to Peters's age came running out. “That’s mine! Thank you!” He exclaimed while snatching the ‘coffee’ and chugging it. Does that even count as coffee?

Peter just blinked in shock. That seemed like a sure way to a heart attack or some serious health condition. “I- are you okay?”

Mr. Drake-Wayne looked up, a manic look in his eyes. “No.”

“Fair. Can I get you anything else or help in any way?” He offered, staring at the now empty cup.

The guard beside him let out an angry exhale and Peter's spidey-sense flared. He turned his attention to the large man and sincerely apologized, “Ah, sorry! I forgot that I’m not supposed to be here. I’m sorry if I made your day any more difficult, sir.”

He turned back to Mr. Drake-Wayne who was watching the interaction, fingers twitching. “Have a wonderful day, sir! I hope the release of the WaynePhone goes without issue!”

He waved his goodbyes and scurried into the elevator. Both men were staring as the doors closed and Peter breathed a sigh of relief. The guard wasn’t far off from physically removing him if his spidey-sense was any indication nor had he wanted to give a bad first impression to one of the higher-ups in the company.

He grimaced again when the elevator opened on his normal floor and a shrill voice rang out. “Parker! Where have you been?”
He sighed and kept his tone neutral. “I was getting coffee for the building, ma’am.”

“You aren’t supposed to get it for the whole building, idiot! They have their own interns!”

Peter pushed down his frustration. Ms. Clark had, in fact, specifically told him to get coffee for the whole building. He’d been doing it almost daily for a month now.

“Ah, I’m sorry, ma’am. I must have misunderstood.”

“Why do they keep hiring imbeciles? Quit standing there and get to work!” She scolded, pointing to Peters's workbench.

He nodded and made his way over, happy to finally be able to do what he was hired for. The desk was clean. He hardly got to use it and was scolded if anything was out of place despite most of the desks in the office being littered with half-finished projects and tools.

The company typically assigned interns projects that they felt were ‘developmentally appropriate.’ Unfortunately, Ms. Clark believed Peter was stupid so he was given projects that he could solve in his sleep.

Today's project was supposed to be a challenge. He was to build a clock with a longer battery life than average. Almost every paragraph ended with ‘if you are unable to do this, just do your best.’

It was fine. When he’d started his real internship at Stark Industries, his manager had felt that he wasn’t as smart as the others because he was young. It didn’t matter much anyway because Ms. Clark went home early most days so after he finished his project, he’d be able to help the others out with their more complicated work.

The biggest change in this universe was the lack of Stark tech. He had gotten used to building everything with arc reactor technology and that didn’t exist here. In fact, the elements needed for the reactor didn’t exist as far as he knew.

The plus side was that he had done a project comparing different copies and pirates of Stark tech so he could build something better quality than what was available here using those ideas.

It was a little funny how Hammer Tech came the closest to arc reactor tech but still pirated most of Tony’s work. With that in mind, it was easier to use Hammers' ideas without crediting him or his company. Peter chuckled to himself as he thought of Ms. Clark's potential reaction to him crediting a company that didn’t exist.

A hand on his shoulder startled him from his thoughts and his tinkering. He had been trying to use the cheapest materials possible for the Hammer Tech battery. “What are you working on?”

Peter turned to see Mr. Drake-Wayne smiling at him. “Oh! Hello, Mr. Drake-Wayne! I’m working on a battery that should have a longer life, take less time to charge, and be more eco-friendly.”

The man waved his hand and corrected, “Call me Tim. ‘Mr. Drake-Wayne’ is so formal and doesn’t feel like me.” Peter gave a hesitant nod so he continued, “Those are some big claims! Can I see the plans? I might be able to help.”

Peter grimaced internally. Ms. Clark already thought he wasn’t smart, he didn’t need his boss thinking that too. “I don’t really have plans drawn out for it. I was just tinkering,” he said while looking at his desk and rubbing his neck.

“Ugh, I feel you. It’s so much easier to just do it than to draw up plans every time! I mean, there’s a time and place for plans but this early in the project? Nah.”

Peter blinked in shock. His boss agreed with him? “Oh. Thank you, sir.”

“Ew. Please, drop the sir. It’s just Tim. Mr. Parker-Stark, right? How are you liking Wayne Tech?” Tim’s blue eyes felt like they could see through Peter, like they see how much he wanted to be back at Stark Tech and how confined he felt with his projects.

Peter just grinned. “I love it! I’ve had a lot of fun meeting all of the employees in the different departments during coffee runs and working on projects by myself or with the other interns!”

“You get coffee for the other floors? I wasn’t aware that duty was put on one intern…” Tim looked off in thought before snapping back into himself and asking, “I imagine thats a bit overwhelming!”

Peter shook his head. “Not at all! I wrote a program to help and it’s cut back on the time. Plus Ms. Stella, the barista at Brew Haven, finishes the orders super quick.”

“Oh? Tell me more about this program.”

Peter blushed and ducked his head. “It’s just a simple program that reads the orders texted to me as well as their sender and creates a list. It send the list to Brew Haven and then organizes it so I can group the cups on the cart by floor.”

“Do you have it save the orders for future reference as well? I think I’d get a kick out of knowing everyone’s order,” Tim said with a laugh.

Peter lit up a bit. “I did! I’ve already used to get Ms. Clark in a better mood! I really want to make it into an app for the company and have it automatically save the orders so it takes less time for everyone to text it.”

“Why don’t you?” Tim grinned as he stared down Peter.

Peter huffed. “Ms. Clark doesn’t let me work on personal projects and I like to spend the hour or two after she leaves with the other interns.” Peter covered his mouth is horror. He had forgotten Tim was his boss and not one of his coworkers.

Tim hummed, leaning against Peters desk. “Ms. Clark is the research and development intern director, correct?”

“Yes but honestly, it’s fine. I didn’t mean to complain. I really do love this job!”

Tim waved Peter off. “You’re not in trouble. It important for me to know if someone in a position of power is abusing it.”

“She’s not! It’s really okay.”

Peter sunk further into seat as his exclamation caught Ms. Clarks attention.

“Parker! Are you bothering this man?” She stormed over, arms crossed and scowling. Once she caught sight of Tim, she gasped. “Mr. Drake-Wayne! I’m terribly sorry! Mr. Parker-Stark here has been having some trouble lately. I’m so sorry that you got caught up in it.”

Tim plastered on a smile. “Oh, dear! I’m sorry to hear that. He wasn’t bothering me at all but I’d love to hear about the issues he’s been having.”

Peter was torn between laughing at the fake smile or crying at the boss of the company hearing Ms. Clarks opinions.

Ms. Clark gave a cruel grin and guided Tim away from Peter. They weren’t even out of a normal persons earshot when she started, “I know the intern competition folks are quite good at their job. I’ve never had issue with anyone they’ve hired before Peter. The boy must have slipped through the cracks. He seems to be as a dull as a rock!”

Peter let his head hit the table gently and sighed as Liam draped his body over the boy. The touch was comforting and he groaned out his mental anguish.

“Was that Mr. Drake-Wayne?” Liam gasped. “Petey, I need you as my wingman. If you can score that man, imagine what you can get me.”

“Liam!” He exclaimed, pushing the boy off him and onto the floor. Liam laughed and bounced up to sit on Peters desk.

“So what are Isabella and hot-stuff talking about?”

Peter groaned again. “My failures.” He pointedly ignored Ms. Clark pointing out their interaction and calling him ‘violent’ and a ‘troublemaker.’

“Oh, honey, you don’t need to worry. That slice of cake was looking at you like you like you hung the stars. Ms. Clark could say you murdered her dog and he would just send you heart eyes.”

“Li. I love you but you thought Ms. Clark had the hots for me when I first started so excuse me if I don’t exactly believe you. There’s no way Tim, the boss of all of us, likes me.”

Liam just smirked. “One day, when you realize I was right, you owe me! I think I’m going to make you go to that drag show you’ve been avoiding with me and have you score me a twink.”

“You are gay, my guy.”

“No gayer than you, boo.”

Peter just rolled his eyes and glanced over at the pair. Ms. Clark was on a tangent about how Peter couldn’t even write a basic program. Tim was sympathetic and encouraging her to go on. Peter had a suspicion that the man’s phone was recording the whole interaction.

Finally Tim’s phone rang and he excused himself while Ms. Clark seemed pleased and started packing up her things for the day. She probably thought that no one would notice if she left early because the boss had already visited.

Not even ten minutes after she left, Tim walked back and sat on the other side of Peters desk. Liam had remained and was brainstorming ideas for the battery with Peter. Peter snorted at the gay panic crossing Liam’s face when Tim sat down.

“Ugh, do you actually have to work with that woman every day?” He complained, picking up one of the tools on Peter’s desk and inspecting it.

Liam threw his hands up. “Every day! She hates Peter but he’s smarter than all of us!”

Peter hit Liam with the back of his hand. “We’ve talked about this, Li. You aren’t allowed to say I’m smarter than everyone here.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You don’t want us feeling inferior or anything. I get it, mom.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Is that what I said? I seem to recall it had more to do with intelligence not being measurable as well that saying I’m smarter implies you are dumber.”

“I am dumber, dork,” he said while swatting Peters arm.

“Are you guys dating?” Tim blurted before blushing.

Peter snorted, stating, “He wishes” at the same moment Liam said, “I wish.”

Liam pretended to be hurt so Peter just gently shoved him off the desk. “You’re too old for me, Li!”

“I’m 23, asshole!”

“And I’m se- eighteen, dumbass!”

Liam grinned from his new spot on the floor. “Then you and Mr. Drake-Wayne are perfect for each other. He’s eighteen as well.”

Liam laughed at the pairs blushes and skipped off to his own desk, shooting glances at the pair.

“I’m so sorry about him. He’s hopelessly gay and his desire for a relationship fuels his meddling into everyone else’s love life. He seems to forget I’m not looking for anything right now,” Peter said with a sigh and rolled his eyes. He flipped Liam off as the boy grinned from across the room.

“It’s fine!” Tim said too quickly. “I actually came back to let you know that I’ll be interviewing the other interns on Ms. Clark’s behavior. Do you want to provide a statement as well?”

Peter shook his head quickly. “I meant it when I said it’s fine. She’s really not as bad as she seems.”

Liam had been creeping closer, trying to stay hidden. He popped out at Peters comment and exclaimed, “She’s wasting his talent!”

Peter grumbled about Liam but paused when Tim agreed, “She is wasting talent. She is likely going to be fired unless there’s a serous snag where she’d be demoted as low as we get her. It’s clear she was not able to handle the responsibility of having employees under her direction.”

Tim paused and hesitantly rested a hand on Peters shoulder, his other hand playing with a lone screw. “While we wait for this all to process, I encourage you to work on that app you mentioned as well the battery. I believe that you are more than talented enough to finish both of those.”

Peter blushed at the praise but Tim had already jumped up to catch one of the other interns before they left, asking questions rapid-fire.

Peter whipped his head around to glare at Liam where was smirking. He mouthed ‘fuck you’ and a got a ‘please’ in reply before turning back to his battery.

His biggest hurdle was making it with cheap supplies in a way that could be easily mass-produced. If he had vibranium, he’d put a bit of that in and make an arc reactor but he had access to the scraps the other interns left. Although, if Ms. Clark was fired, he’d have more.

He could go the more complex route and make an off-brand arc reactor or try something different only using a bit of the technology. Stick with what he knows or take on a challenge?

He snorted at the thought. He’d start with the challenge but draw up plans for the dollar-store version of the arc reactor. If he could do what he was hoping, his own version would be just as efficient a Stark arc reactor with mass-production capabilities.

He grinned and got to work. When he looked up from his nearly complete battery, only two interns remained and it was dark outside. He cursed mentally and threw everything his bag, stuffing his tools into his drawer. He had gotten cautious about leaving his supplies out when one of his projects mysteriously went missing and something similar turned up under Ms. Clarks name.

He threw his bag over his shoulder and sprinted out the door. It was dangerous to leave after dark. Gotham was a dangerous city, more so than any other Peter had been in (even the ones Stark brought him to to provide temporary aide during his training.)

Peter cursed out loud when a shadowed figure ran behind him above him on the rooftops. His own instincts urged him to climb up there for the chase but he didn’t want draw attention to himself nor was he interested in becoming Spider-Man again. He continued in a quick walk and kept an eye on the rooftops.

The figure stopped as Peter neared his apartment although he could feel its eyes on him. It didn’t seem malicious but he still took a few back alleys until he no longer felt the gaze.

He collapsed onto his couch after locking his door and was pulled into twisted memories of his past-life, ready to haunt his dreams.

Chapter Text

Peter cursed loudly as he was woken up again by his neighbor crashing through their window, letting himself fall from where he had jumped onto the ceiling. He’d never talked to them but from the sounds, they were a vigilante that took one too many hits just about every night. Or maybe they were schizophrenic and thought they were fighting Joker on the streets.

He climbed out of bed, stuck his head out his window, and looked up. Laying on the fire escape was the bleeding figure of one of the city's many crime lords slash part-time morally gray vigilante.

With a groan and another curse, he went back inside and pulled out his first aid kit. He thanked Stark again for teaching him everything a vigilante had to know, including first aid.

Peter climbed up the fire escape and examined the anti-hero. The man had bullet wounds in his shoulder, thigh, and stomach. He was passed out however his heart and breath sounded normal. Peter slid on some gloves and felt for exit wounds under the man. He cursed again as he felt the lack of an exit wound for the stomach. The shoulder and thigh had exit wounds and weren’t bleeding heavily so he ignored them for now.

He grabbed the tweezer out of his bag and wiped them with an alcohol wipe. He stuck them in and, thankfully, found the bullet without much digging. He wrapped the offending bullet in gauze and stuck it in the man’s pocket.

He moved to wrapping the other wounds. He wasn’t going to take the man’s suit off so he stuffed each wound with gauze and gently wrapped them. It wasn’t a long-term solution but he’d be able to get to whatever doctor Gotham Vigilantes used when he woke up.

His helmet didn’t have any visible dents and his suit wasn’t scuffed anywhere that could indicate spinal injuries so Peter took a chance and pulled the man into his apartment.

He wrinkled his nose after he dropped the man onto the ground. The trash was overflowing and dishes were piling up in the sink. The only thing ‘cool’ about the apartment was the books stacked on the table and the weapons on the wall.

He hooked his arms back under the man’s armpits and pulled him to the couch. After laying him down, putting a pillow under his helmeted head, and a blanket on top of him, Peter searched around for a notepad. He meticulously wrote so it looked like it was printed and told the man to go to the doctor.

Next he searched for an alarm clock and upon finding nothing, resorted to grabbing his own. He set an alarm for an hour and wiped it down so there weren’t prints. He’d be listening for the man to wake up and this at least only made him wait for an hour. If he didn’t wake up to the alarm, Peter would have to drag him to a doctor.

Peter sighed and checked that he’d wiped off any hard surfaces he touched before climbing back out the window and into his own apartment.

If he was going to be awake the next hour, he may as well finish the battery. With an ear on the sleeping man in the apartment above, he pulled out his personal tools and the battery.

He paused in his tinkering as he heard a snore but continued when the heartbeat stayed regular. The battery was pretty much complete. Peter plugged it into the wall and grinned when it flashed blue to show it was charging. If all went well, it’d flash green in an hour or two and wouldn’t flash red for over a week even with constant use.

He halted his staring as his alarm clock went off above him. Violent cursing and the sounds of crashing assaulted him. He mourned as one of those crashes was clearly the shattering of his ‘beloved’ alarm clock (read: he had destroyed three himself already and this was the cheapest he could find.)

The man was stumbling around his apartment cursing the whole way until he saw the note and read it out loud. He proceeded to curse out an ‘Outlaws’ and their stupid ways of caring. Peter snorted as he heard the man struggle to open his window and hid as he heard the man stomping down the fire escape.

Peter watched as he stumbled onto a red motorcycle and drove off. He shrugged and unplugged the battery before curling back up on the couch to get a few hours of restless sleep.

He woke with a start for the second time that night to someone trying to force his door open. Peter scrambled to the bat he kept on hand and checked that the chain on the door was done before unlocking the other locks.

The person on the other side paused their assault and mumbled out their confusion. Peter could smell the strong painkillers in the man’s sweat. He hoped this was his upstairs neighbor and not some random person high on drugs trying to break into his apartment.

“Who’s there?” Peter demanded, keeping himself and the bat out of sight.

“Who the fuck are you and how did you get in my apartment?” The man growled, banging on the door again.

Oh, good. It was the upstairs neighbor and he’d seen a doctor. Peter squinted as he saw dark hair. Hadn’t the crime lord been wearing a helmet? Hopefully, he wasn’t walking around maskless in his suit. “Wrong apartment. This is 204.”

The man cursed and stumbled back down the hall to the stairs. Peter felt a little bad. The elevator had been broken since he moved in and he knew how much stairs sucked with bullet wounds.

He locked the door back up and shuffled back to the couch. He pulled out his phone and groaned when it said 4:00 a.m. There was no way he would be able to get to sleep in an hour and a half before work.

He sighed and decided to start with a hot shower before making an actual breakfast instead of the cheap microwave breakfast foods. He cursed again as he cracked an egg to be surprised with runny, rotten goodness. He opened the pantry to find the few slices of bread left were moldy. He didn’t even have meat in the fridge. He really needed to do better about eating breakfast and dinner. It wasn’t right to waste food. The world did not favor him today.

He resigned himself to a frozen breakfast and felt frustrated tears prick his eyes when it was still cold on the inside but dry and spongey on the outside.

Peter threw on some clothes, only needing to change again once because of a hole, and packed up his stuff for the day.

He decided to switch up his morning routine and sent the drink notification text out before heading to Brew Haven. Normally he’d run to work and grab the bags but he didn’t have the energy to complicate everything today.

Thankfully due to the earliness, not too many people replied. He’d get by with stoppers, drink holders, and plastic bags instead of his normal massive insulated bags. Hopefully, no one got upset if their drink was a little colder than normal.

Stella was chipper as always when he walked in, immediately clocking his mood. She grabbed a chocolate eclair and pulled a hot chocolate out of thin air before setting them in front of him. “Everything okay, Peter?”

He waved her off. “I’m fine. Long night and everything but I’m fine.”

“Mhm. Sure. What I can do to help you actually be fine? Do you want me to make you a drink or get you something to eat?”

Peter shook his head, smiling at her kindness. “The hot chocolate and eclair are enough. I really appreciate it. I wasn’t able to make a great breakfast this morning so the donut will help until I can get lunch at work.”

Stella smirked but nodded. He was startled when she returned a minute later with a plate stacked with breakfast sandwiches. “I can’t take these! I can’t afford them!”

“They are free, kid. It’s all leftovers from yesterday so they were going to get tossed anyway.”

Peter wanted to call out the lie. They smelled fresh and he knew they threw out the old food during closing. “Thanks, Stella. Have I told you how awesome you are? In fact, you’re rather stellar.”

“Oh no. Don’t you start. The last time this happened you didn’t stop sharing puns until I kicked you out,” she stated while backing away with her hands held up in surrender.

Peter just chuckled and turned his focus to the food she had given him. The breakfast sandwiches were warm and perfectly cooked, just like everything Stella made. The eclair was perfectly sweet and chocolatey while the hot chocolate was heavy and comforting. Stella had even made it without her secret ingredient, cinnamon, because she knew he was allergic.

She brought the building's order over in her own insulated bag. “You better return this bag, kiddo. I will hunt you down and force you to work for me if it doesn’t end up in my hands by tomorrow night.”

“Understood, ma’am,” Peter stated, saluting goofily before handing her his plates and strapping up. He made it to work ten minutes before he was scheduled and started setting the cups on the cart. He smiled softly as he saw Stella had included another hot chocolate for him.

He started with receptionists and security guards on the first floor, handing out drinks. “Hey, Mr. Boges! How’s life been treating you?”

The security guard grinned and exclaimed, “My sister had her baby finally! I’m an uncle!”

“I guess I should start greeting you as Uncle Boges!” Peter joked, smiling at Ms. Foster at the front desk as he handed her latte to her.

“Kid, I’d take that over ‘Mr. Boges’ any day! Hell, you could even call me Jeff like I’ve been telling you to.”

Peter waved him off and pressed the elevator button. “Sure, sure, Uncle Boges.” He giggled as he saw the man roll his eyes before the doors shut.

He finished deliveries on a few more floors and huffed as he saw legal was on his list again. He started the elevator up and grimaced when he heard arguing at one of the desks. He dropped a few drinks off at empty desks and hesitantly wheeled closer to argument.

“That’s not what that means! Are you fucking stupid?”

“Are you? The Kates VS. Queen case ruling in 2005 said it meant…!”

Peter straightened his spine and walked up, set coffees in their hands, and walked away before they could say anything. He relaxed when he heard their argument turn into a conversation.

“Do you think we could word it so both meanings are covered? It would save us from loopholes or a random judge deciding it meant something else.”

“Okay. How about…?”

He grinned at peaceful resolution coffee could create before heading up to another floor. He grinned harder as he read ahead and saw he would be delivering to Tim again.

It took a minute but the elevator finally alerted Peter that he’d arrived at Tim’s office. A different security guard greeted him, nodding once he saw the badge. Tim sprinted out after the guard nodded and knocked the drink off the cart on his haste to grab it.

Peter caught it and offered it to Tim with a smile, shrinking when the man just stared. After an awkward amount of time, Peter bluffed, “Should I just drink it or do you want it?”

Tim snapped out of his stare and snatched the drink, gulping down most of it. Tim spoke quickly, “Thanks. You are here earlier than yesterday even though I’m pretty sure I took you off coffee duty. Everything okay?”

“Yep! My neighbor woke me up early so I headed into work early. Are you okay?”

Tim scrunched his face in confusion before talking quickly again, “I’m fine, especially now that I’ve had my coffee.”

“Is that what we are calling it? Because I’m not sure an extra large cup of espresso is coffee.” Peter blushed after speaking so freely to his boss.

Tim chuckled, fingers twitching. “Is espresso not coffee? Im not normally the one ordering my drinks but my assistant is sick so...”

Peter shrugged. “I’m not a coffee expert but I’ll ask Ms. Stella next time I get coffees. If it’s alright, I’m going to start testing the battery while I work on that app you asked me to create.”

“Is the battery done already?” Tim blurted.

“Yeah, I finished it last night. It didn’t explode when I plugged it in so it’s a success!”

“I think some people might disagree with that definition of success but I’m all for it! I’ll be stopping by later to make a few announcement and check in on your progress.”

Peter waved to Tim and wished the security guard a good day before wheeling the cart down to his own floor. Liam would have knocked him over if Peter hadn’t stepped out of the way but the man did care, exclaiming, “Peter! You bring my life blood! I could kiss you!”

Peter scrunched his face in faux disgust. “Ew. I don’t want old man kisses. Take your drink and shuffle back to the senior center, grandpa.”

“Harsh. So cruel. My own blood betraying me!” Liam exclaimed, falling backwards into a random desk. Peter pulled him up and pushed him towards to his own desk.

“We aren’t related. We don’t even look alike,” Peter said while gesturing to their differences.

Liam wailed dramatically so Peter covered his mouth with his hand. It was too early for that level of noise and he had a sensory overload lurking.

He withdrew his hand when Liam licked it with a moan. “Eww. You are so gay!”

Liam smirked. “No gayer that you.”

The pair went separate ways and after Peter finished handing out coffee, he pulled everything out of bag and put on his desk.

He started with taking the battery and setting it up in a testing area. He aimed a camera at it and plugged it in. He’d be able to review the recording and mark how long it takes to charge.

At his desk, Peter sketched out the basics of battery and his calculations. He set those aside and opened a company laptop. He missed having a laptop to work on at home but he was lucky enough to have a phone.

Peter plugged in his thumb drive and opened the coffee program he had made. He split the screen in half and opened a platform designed for coding apps.

It would be a bit of a challenge because he had only been coding in a mishmash of languages but he did know the languages needed to make apps.

He turned on some headphones and started typing, taking sips of his hot chocolate occasionally. He grinned each time another layer of the app popped into existence.

He flinched when a hand waved in front of his face. He pulled off his headphones and looked at the owner of the hand. Tim Drake-Wayne was once again talking to him. This time, he had a little kid beside him.

“Uhh, hi?” He blinked at the pair before remembering his manners. “I’m Peter Parker. Nice to meet you!”

He felt bad about not offering his hand but the lack of sleep was always a trigger for sensory overloads and he didn’t want to push it. You don’t realize how textured people hands were until you you felt everything.

He felt less bad when the kid sneered, “Why am meeting this peasant, Drake? You told me you had important meeting today.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “This is Damian Wayne, my little brother. He will be one of the people running of the company when he’s older. I may have mentioned important meetings and someone decided he had to tag along.”

Peter grinned. “Hi, Mr. Wayne! Sorry about any confusion, I know it can be frustrating. My dad did that me all the time. He’d tell me we were going to do one thing and suddenly we’d be in Aruba!”

Damian scowled. “Your file did not show out of country travel.”

“Ah, it wouldn’t. I was using it as an expression?” Peter tried. He doubted he’d be able to convince either of the people in front of him. They were too sharp to ignore his slip up.

Damian’s scowl deepened while Tim rolled his eyes and sat on the desk. “So how are your projects going?”

“Good! I have the battery in testing right now. I’m hoping to record the charging results before I go home so I can start testing how long its charge lasts!”

Tim grinned. “That’s awesome! I’m truly shocked how fast you got that done-“

“Is that worth complimenting? You build stuff for father all the time.”

“Yes, Dami. That’s not normal.” Tim turned back to Peter. “Do you think you could draw up plans for that by the end of the week?”

Peter nodded, digging around in his desk. He ignored the way Damian tensed and was sure to show that all he had was papers when his hands resurfaced. “I drew these up earlier. This is a basic sketch but it should work until I draw up a final version.”

Damian and Tim leaned over the papers and Damian asked, “These are rough drafts? I think Tim could learn from you.”

Tim shoved his brother gently. “These are great, Peter! Don’t worry about making another version. I’m going to see if I can’t get these turned into manufacturing plans to start production once testing is done.”

“Is that not acting prematurely? We don’t know if the battery will succeed.” Damian was frowning at Tim now.

Tim waved him off, still grinning. “I trust Peter! He knows what he’s doing.”

Damian muttered “He’s an intern” before raising his voice, “Did father not just give you another lesson on not letting personal biases inform professional decisions?”

Peter frowned at the wording. Were the Wayne children abused? He had thought Bruce Wayne was good man. He scolded himself mentally for believing media portrayals.

Tim waved Damian off again. “What about the app?”

Peter shrugged, opening his computer. “I’ve been working on it most of today. It’s still pretty rough but it’s a good base.”

He scrolled through the features he had started to implement and watched his bosses faces for any signs of disapproval or dislike.

Damian cleared his throat. “How old are you?”

“18? I thought you read my file.”

“Good. Just confirming. What is your opinion on clowns?”

Peter blinked. “Creepy and overused after the whole killer clown thing in 2016.”

“Hmm. This complicates things,” Damian muttered while wandering off.

Peter sent a questioning look to Tim. “Ignore Dami. Our siblings have been rubbing off on him lately. You did an amazing job on this Peter! I think we could roll it out today and you wouldn’t get any complaints.”

“Thanks? I feel like I should be more worried about Damian said.”

“Nah, don’t worry about him. Actually, it’s about time for my announcements. Why don’t you spread the word and gather everyone?”

Peter blinked in confusion again and walked in a daze over to Liam.

“Ooh, did you get a kiss from hottie?” The man asked, leaning close to Peter.

“No.”

“Then why are you acting like that? Did you finally realize you have the hots for him and are hashtag gay panicking?”

“Also no. But we need to gather everyone for announcements.”

Liam sighed but cupped his hands to his mouth. “Oi, guys, gals, and non-binary pals, meeting time. Gather up!”

Peter covered his ears at the yell but let Liam drag him over to the table typically dubbed ‘Brainstorming Table.’ Tim and Damian watched as it slowly filled, their faces not giving anything away.

Once all of the department were seated at the table or nearby, Tim announced, “Some of you may have noticed but Ms. Isabella Clark didn’t show up to work today. Due to her treatment of the interns under her direction, her behavior towards a few employees, and repeatedly leaving before she was scheduled to, Ms. Clark was fired. We are not trying to make firing employees a habit so don’t be afraid to approach us however the severity of her actions forced out hand.

“While we work on hiring another intern director, Dr. Davis will be stepping in. Any questions and concerns about Ms. Clark, her actions and firing, Mr. Davis or just general concerns, can be directed to Dr. Davis, Damian Wayne, or myself. Thank you all for your attention.”

Peter could hear Damian mutter to Tim, “You have improved on your speech giving however I do not see the necessity of including myself to handle concerns and questions.”

Tim nudged Damian with his elbow. “Aww, did you just compliment me? I’m surprised your head didn’t explode from the effort.”

“I retract the first part of my statement. You are intolerable,” Damian snarled and scowled. Peter chuckled at the sibling love.

Peter made his way back to his desk and cringed when he saw the time. He’d worked right through his lunch break. The cafeteria would be open for a few more minutes so if he ran, he could grab some food to eat for dinner.

He locked the laptop and grabbed his wallet before sprinting to the small cafeteria Wayne Enterprises has in their building. They had four small pop-ups. Sals Salads and Sandwiches was his favorite but the franchised Chinese food wasn’t far off. The pizza shop and the soup and bakery were good as well but they didn’t hold up to Sals.

Sal grinned when he saw Peter. The man’s mother-tongue was Italian and he had been ecstatic when he found out Peter was fluent. “Peter! You have wonderful timing! I was just closing up shop and today is when I have to toss the ingredients so I’ll make them into sandwiches for you, free of charge.”

“Sal! You don’t have to do that!”

Sal tutted. “I do. I feel so guilty throwing away this food so it makes me happy to know it’s going to someone that needs it.”

Peter looked down at himself self-consciously. Maybe he hadn’t been eating as much as he should but he didn’t look that hungry.

Sals hands were masterful as he made and wrapped a variety of sandwiches, filling two whole grocery bags. “There. These should hold for another day or two if you put them in the fridge. They can probably last longer if you don’t mind them getting soggy. Don’t you argue or I’m going to this every day.”

Peter blushed but thanked him and headed back to his desk. He was actually a little worried the grocery bags were going to break with how many sandwiches Sal had stuffed in them.

He slid the bags under his desk after he grabbed a sandwich and read through the code he had written while he ate. He fixed a few minor errors and threw away his trash before setting an alarm. He didn’t want to leave late again today, especially with Ms. Clark being fired for not following her schedule.

He threw himself into finishing the app, getting as far as debating design choices before his alarm went off. He logged out of the laptop and returned it to its cart before packing up his supplies.

He set the bags of sandwiches into his backpack which had space now that he didn’t need to bring home the battery and its supplies.

He stopped to unplug the battery and skim the recording, marking down the time it turned green. He started another recording and set up a device solely used to drain power at a consistent rate.

The walk home was uneventful, the sun casting long shadows on the street as it prepared to rest. He made it into his apartment without a single person bothering him and started to stack the sandwiches in the fridge.

He was interrupted by a knock on his door. He grabbed his bat again and left the chain on when he opened the door. It was the man from last night if the smell of blood, ointments, and pain relief said anything. Only once again he was a maskless.

Peter cursed the man internally. He didn’t want to know any more Gothams vigilantes or rogues in or out of mask, much less both!

“Um, hi? I’m your upstairs neighbor. I think I tried to get into your apartment on accident last night so I came to apologize.”

Peter huffed slightly. “It’s fine. Just try not to do it at four in the morning again.”

The man chuckled softly. “Oh I brought cookies! I promise they aren’t drugged or poisoned or anything. I specifically got the recipe from my grandpa since he makes them best.”

Peter shut the door and undid the chain, almost chuckling at the sad expression on the man’s face. “Why didn’t you start with that? I love cookies!”

The man looked shocked as he stared at Peter. “You are just a kid!”

“Really? Again? I’m 18!” Well he would be in a year if you went by how long he was alive. He was actually 22 if you counted from his birth year.

“That’s just a kid!”

Peter groaned. “I get this enough from everyone at work, don’t start doing it too.”

The man just stared for an awkward amount of time before holding out the plate of cookies. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a dick again.” The man smirked like he made a joke but continued, “I’m Jason if I didn’t already introduce myself.”

“Peter,” he said while grabbing the cookies. The plate was stacked fairly high with a variety of different cookies. He stared mournfully at the snickerdoodle, dusted with sugar and cinnamon. “Why don’t you come in? I have some sandwiches that are going to go bad soon and I’d like hear about the ingredients in these.”

He would resurrect and re-murder the spider that bit him if the chocolate chip or the M and M cookies had cinnamon.

Jason took a step back at the offer, clearly uncomfortable. “You shouldn’t invite strangers into your apartment, kid. I could be a murderer or a rapist or something.”

Peter held back a laugh. He was pretty sure the vigilante this guy spends his nights as was a murderer. “I’ve… got someone looking out for me. I already know you are safe, especially with kids.”

Someone being his spidey-sense but he wasn’t about to admit to being a meta-human in Gotham. Even worse, he’d be admitting it to someone with ties to Batman, the biggest hater of metas.

Jason growled lightly. “You shouldn’t trust your friend that much. I’m not a good person.”

“Okay. Neither am I.” Ben. Harry. Gwen. MJ. Ned. All of the people whose names he never got to know because he couldn’t save them. “Can we sit down and eat some sandwiches now? I have allergies and would really like to know which of these cookies I can eat.”

Jason looked hesitant but Peter’s tired stare eventually got him shuffling into the apartment. Peter set his bat down by the couch and the cookies on coffee table. He folded his blanket and pillow that were haphazardessly left bundled after his rude awakening that morning.

“Do you sleep on your couch?”

Peter shrugged, setting the pillow and blanket under the coffee table. He grabbed a couple sandwiches that hadn’t made it into fridge yet. “I can’t afford a bed. Also whee exactly would I put a bed?” He asked while gesturing to the studio apartment. The only ‘room’ was a bathroom eth door inbetween the tiny kitchenet at the back of the apartment and the a small living room space closer to the door.

He laid the sandwiches on the coffee table, only now noticing the tools strewn about. He grabbed as many as he could and threw them into his tool box.

He turned to see Jason staring awkwardly at Peter, still standing near the door. Peter rolled his eyes. “Sit. The couch isn’t going to eat you or anything.”

Peter huffed a quiet laugh as Jason sat with as little of himself on the couch as possible, hands folding in his lap.

“Do you have any allergies or dislikes? I’m not really sure which sandwiches there are but I can check.”

Jason shook his head, still not reaching for any of the food.

“Hmm I guess I’ll give you the one made of sand and witch meat,” Peter joked, tossing a random sandwich at him.

The sandwich landed perfectly in his lap. The man just stared at Peter.

“What not a cannibal?” He shrunk a little as the stare intensified. “I’m kidding. Tough crowd. I think that one is an Italian meat lovers.”

Jason huffed and opened the wrapper taking a bite. Peter smirked as his tension melted and took larger bite. “Where’d you get this?” He asked with his mouth full.

“Sals Salad and Sandwich’s. I think he has a location down the street by that drug front.”

Jason hummed. “The really obvious one with the corny name on third?”

“Bingo,” Peter said while grabbing a sandwich for himself. He bit down a smirk and prepared to tease the man. “I wonder why the vigilantes haven’t dealt with it.”

Jason choked on the sandwich, coughing violently. Peter hopped up and made a glass of water.

“Shit, don’t die! You know I was kidding, right? I know why the Bats haven’t taken it down.” Jason raised an eyebrow in question, still trying to clear his throat. “Small, minimally harmful operations like that are more useful to keep around because they often work with, for, or know of larger, more harmful ones.”

Jason narrowed his green eyes and croaked, “How old are you again and what is your stance on clowns?”

Peter scrunched his face. “This is the second time today I’ve been asked that! Clowns are overused and I’m 18, as I’ve already said.”

“Who asked you that?”

“Some random ass kid.” He didn’t want to out that he worked at Wayne Enterprises and had met the Wayne’s. Jason hadn’t set off his spidey-sense at all, even with his large figure and scars, but people can change in an instant if they knew they could use you. “I bet clowns are big here, though, with Joker and all.”

Jason tensed at the mention. Peter stared curiously. He was certain Jason’s eyes were more brown than green when he’d first arrived but they almost completely green now. “Have you met Joker? Is that who you work for?”

“I work for a tech company, not a criminal. At least, I don’t think the company does anything criminal… but I have seen Joker before! I got the heck out of dodge once I realized who was occupying that warehouse so he didn’t see me.”

Jason’s gaze was sharp as he looked Peter over. “How long ago were you in that warehouse and why?”

“Almost a year ago. If you are wondering if he is still there, he’s not but I’m happy to give you the address. As for why I was there, I was looking for somewhere to stay. I hadn’t gotten a job yet so I couldn’t afford an apartment.” He still couldn’t afford an apartment with just his internship at Wayne Tech. He worked Friday evenings and weekends elsewhere.

Peter cleared his throat. “While I’m glad you are talking and not acting like I’m going to force you to do the chicken dance or something, I can see there’s a lot of a weight on that topic. I also really want to know which of these cookies I can eat. Do you know which ones have cinnamon?”

Jason pulled out his phone and opened the notes app. “Put in the address and I’ll tell you.”

Peter scowled a little. “I would have told you anyway, no need to threatened the cookies.”

He rolled his eyes while he put in the address, pulling out his own phone to double check it was right. He may not be a vigilante anymore but he still saved the locations criminals frequent, like the drug front near Sals.

Jason nodded after getting his phone back. “Theres cinnamon in the snickerdoodle and the chocolate chip. The M and M and the sugar cookies should be safe.”

Peter frowned as he mourned the loss of chocolate chip cookies. He briefly debated just eating them anyway but it would be embarrassing to spit them right back out in front of company.

He was already going to be pushing it since the snickerdoodle’s are coated in cinnamon sugar and they touched the other cookies. It was worth the risk if the smell of the cookies was any indication.

He pulled out a second plate and set the cookies he couldn’t eat on it. Jason looked thrilled at getting a whole plate to himself and immediately starting inhaling them. Peter took his time, wiping off any cinnamon he could see or smell. He moaned when he took his first bite. It was like Jason’s grandad bottles heaven and put it in his cookies.

“Amazing, right?”
“Send my thanks to your grandad! This is the best apology gift I’ve been given and I’ve been given some pretty crazy stuff.”

Jason chuckled. “If I talk to him again, I’ll let Alfie know his cookies beat all of the apology gifts you’ve been given. What, was it like a thing of flowers or something?”

“A plane was probably the largest one. If we are talking most expensive… probably my fathers company and legacy. Previous favorite was a date, though. That one came with flowers so I guess you were correct.”

Jason stared. “You’re kidding, right? Holy shit, you aren’t! My old man’s fucking rich and never once gave me any of those!”

“Would you want a date with your ‘old man?’” Peter joked, grinning.

Jason scoffed. “I meant the plane and company, you little shit. My siblings got the company and the legacy but I want a plane!”

Peter shrugged. “So ask for it. The worst he can do is tell you no.”

“We don’t really talk anymore. I died briefly and he went and replaced me so we haven’t exactly spoken since,” Jason admitted bitterly, thinking about Tim Drake and the many times hes fought Batman as Red Hood.

Peter hummed in thought. “That sounds complicated and I guarantee theres more to that story but I can say we are dying buddies!”

Jason’s gaze sharpened and he looked Peter over again. His gaze paused at the scars on Peters hands, making the younger man grateful he had a long sleeve on. A lot had happened, more than enough leaving scars to remind him. “How did you die?”

“Which time?” Peter replied softly, picking up another cookie.

“Gee, kid. You’re worse than me. I mean, I’ve died more than once as well but only the one big one,” said the man, running his hand through his hair. Peter stared curiously at the white streak near the top.

“Same here.” He sighed deeply before putting on a chipper tone. “I am going to try to stay out of the grave this time! I don’t want to see if I have nine lives.” Do spiders have nine lives? They seem to survive a lot.

Jason held up a cookie. “Cheers to that!” They bumped hands in leu of cookies, not wanting to contaminate more with cinnamon.

Jason’s phone beeped in his pocket and he cursed while fishing it out. He scowled at the message and apologized, “Sorry, kid. Got to go. Enjoy the cookies and don’t die!”

Peter chucked. “Don’t die.”

Peter wrapped the cookies back up, made his bed, and fell into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

—

BatFam

Damian: Drake has one of those crushes you have told me about.

Tim: I DO NOT YOU ASS

Damian: Oh really? Shall I share some evidence from today? I have photographs.

Tim: nooooo

Dick: TIMMY HAS A CRUSH ✨

Dick: MY BABY IS GROWING UP ✨

Duke: is it a cute guy that can keep up to you in smarts?

Tim: 🖕

Duke: aww it is!

Damian: You are correct, Thomas.

Steph: I need pictures yesterday. Please Dami?? 🥺❤️

Tim: no. You guys are not going to stalk him. I don’t even have a crush!

Dick: Says the pot to the kettle ✨

Tim: I can’t with you guys. You literally scared away my last boyfriend with your stalking, you are not going to scare away someone that isn’t even available

Damian: I believe you told me he was just ‘not looking for anything right now.’

Tim: tomato tomahto

Chapter Text

Peter grinned when he walked into Brew Haven the next morning, holding the insulated bag up in triumph. “I shall not be forced into slavery!”

Stella grinned back. “Aww, as if. I’d treat and pay you better than your current job does, that’s for sure! Everything okay? Your order is smaller than normal.”

“Yeah, one of the big bosses found out my manager was having me do coffee runs for the building so he put a stop to that. I had to fight to do coffee runs just for my floor!”

Stella laughed, pushing a drink towards him. “I’m trying something new! It’s got hot chocolate, caramel, vanilla, and whipped cream.”

Peter hummed and sipped the warm drink. “This is amazing, Stella! It’s like… warm family gatherings. Maybe you should call it Get Together!”

“See this is why I have you as my taste tester!” Stella exclaimed while slapping a hand on his shoulder.

Peter snorted. “I’ll do it as long as you tell me what’s in it. We don’t need a repeat of the cinnamon vanilla hot chocolate.”

“Don’t remind me! I thought you were going to die when you started projectile vomiting and then you went and got hives everywhere. Or, ugh, the caffeine time?”

Peter threw his hands up in faux anger. “It’s not like I knew it had cinnamon!”

Stella gave him a look and reminded, “Do I need to remind you how you came back the next day and asked for it again?”

“It was good! It even tasted amazing coming back up,” he exclaimed, trying to defend himself.

Stella shook her head with a disgusted look. “Ew. You are nasty, Peter. Go drink your drink all the way over there. What pastry do you want?”

“Chocolate croissant?”

“Sure, kid. Here you go.”

Peter took it with a thankful smile. “One of these days I’ll pay you back for all the food you give me.”

“Oh, hush. I don’t lose any money feeding you.” She waved Peter off and turned back to her work.

Peter just snorted and made his way to a table. He had tried refusing pastries from her before but they always ended up snuck in with order. One was even stuck in a cup! If he tried to fight it, she just put more in until he gave up.

He seemed to end up surrounded by stubborn people hell-bent on taking care of him. Sal and Stella were this universes but he had the Avengers and Daredevil and Delmar and so many people back in his own universe.

His thoughts were interrupted as Stella returned with a few trays of coffee. Peter stuffed them in his insulated bag, said his goodbyes, and headed off to work.

It was a strange shift in his routine to not deliver to the other floors. It actually made him a little sad. He would still get to chat with Mr. Boges and Ms. Foster at the front but he wouldn’t get to see Mavis or any of his other friends unless he scheduled lunch with them.

It was strange to be able to work on his own projects all day. Half his day used to be taken up delivering coffees and the other half would be split between menial projects and helping his fellow interns.

That was a change he liked, however. He had so many projects he wanted to perfect from he worked with Stark, like his emergency web bandages! Spider-Man was no more so he may as well share his formulas. The company hadn’t done anything illegal that he had been able to find when he snooped so it was safe enough.

The first order of business was finishing the app. Even if he wasn’t the one picking up the coffees, it could make another interns day easier.

The app was nearly finished. It was functional and had all of the features Peter wanted to include. The hardest part was choosing a color scheme and figuring out icon designs. He had played around with some the previous day but none felt right.

Once again, thank Stark. When he had decided Peter would take over Stark Industries, he had the boy intern in every depart. One of those was design so Peter got quite skilled in using the variety of tools and apps to make something look nice and be functional.

He messed around in the editors for a while before he was content with the designs. They should all be accessible both in color and look as well pleasing to look at. It took an hour or two to implement the designs but the app was complete after some simple testing. He had already done most of the testing the prior day so all that was left was making sure the designs didn’t mess anything up.

Peter paused for a minute after he saved the finalized program onto a flashdrive. Was he supposed to take this to Tim or to Dr. Davis. Tim was his first choice in support but Dr. Davis was the one he’d been directed to go to. He sighed but decided to not bother Tim with something as simple as this and go to Dr. Davis.

Dr. Davis was an older man, with dark skin and soft eyes. He smiled when Peter approached and asked, “How can help you, young man?”

Peter cleared his throat nervously. “Mr. Drake-Wayne asked me to make an app for coffee orders and I have it complete. Who would be best person to hand it off to so it can be implemented?

“I think I can help with that. Why don’t you email me the files and I’ll send it to the right people. Do you have another project to work on after this?”

Peter cringed a little. “I wasn’t assigned one but I had an idea I wanted to try out.”

Dr. Davis grinned. “Wonderful! If possible, can you submit a project form for your idea by tonight so I can be sure we have the supplies available?”

Peter nodded eagerly. He had expected to be scolded for wanting to do personal projects but Dr. Davis was happy he had an idea.

He was still in shock when he walked to Liam desk and sat down. “All right there, sweet cheeks?”

Peter nodded and then shrugged. “Dr. Davis is encouraging me to work on a personal project without even hearing the idea.”
“He’s awesome, right? I asked him a question about my project and he helped just the right amount! I’m honestly glad Ms. Clark was fired.”

Peter gaped. “That’s rude! Ms. Clark was fine. But Dr. Davis is awesome, I’ll admit that.”

Liam sighed. “You are such a dumbass, Peter. Too nice for your own good too.”

Peter scowled and protested, “I’m not nice, I’m scary and mean!”

Liam snorted. “Like a kitten.”

Peter squawked, “Well you are gay!”

“No gayer than you, dumbass.”

Peter scoffed and returned to his own work desk. He wanted to make web bandages (webages? Webaid?) and hopefully patent them for cheap use. Wayne Tech didn’t seem to mark up their profits outrageously so if it worked, it’s be available for public use. He can’t help but think how nice it would been to have those when he treated Jason’s wounds.

He started with filling out the project form, listing the supplies he was planning on using, the purpose of the item, and the name. The name was the hardest part but he jotted down WebAid since it was a like a BandAid but webs.

He didn’t have a lot of time left so he grabbed his normal chemicals and mixed them. It would b embarrassing if he forgot to confirm that this universes differences didn’t affect the mixture. A sigh of relief escaped when the cooling mixture produced sticky webs. He mixed up with the dissolving spray and cleaned out the container before moving to write down what he needed to test.

He’d have to test how the bandages help up to heavy bleeding, if they would stick to wet surfaces like bloody skin, and if blood increased the dissolving speed. But the idea was doable.
In fact, it was one his web combinations that he and Tony had made. He had tested a lot of this on himself and the people he saved but he needed the numbers to get this project accepted.

He glanced at the clock after fiddling with the nozzle for a while and sighed. It was about time to head home.

He locked the mixture up and stopped in the testing room. The battery was still going, the indicator still showing green. He marked down that he checked it and headed home.

He was excited to eat some more sandwiches. He had had three of them for lunch and they were just as good as they were the previous night.

He tensed on his walk home, thoughts interrupted, as a figure stumbled towards him from an alley. He could smell the drugs and alcohol on the man’s breath and winced.

“Give me your money, freak,” he slurred, pulling a life out his pocket. Peter frowned. He didn’t carry any money on him. The orders to Brew Haven were prepaid and he kept his debit card at home unless he intended to use it. The only thing ‘valuable’ on his person was his badge for work.

He held his hands out and spoke softly, “I don’t have anything. I don’t even have enough to eat most nights.”

The mugger for snarled and clumsily stabbed the knife from five feet away. Peter stood still and watched. “Get over here so I can give you a beating, you little shit.”

Peter just stared as the man slowly stumbled closer and cursed when he didn’t give up the stabbing motions. He grabbed the man’s wrist and pulled the knife out of his hand, tossing it into a dark, empty alley across the street. He released the man once he disarmed him.

The mugger growled and slurred, “How dare you? I’m going to give you an even worse beating for that.”

Peter groaned and watched as the man clumsily swung his fists as Peter. None of his swings would even connect so Peter waited until his spidey-sense warned him of one. He grabbed the fist and gently pushed backwards.

Drunk Guy toppled backwards, thankfully having enough coordination to avoid hitting his head. Peter gave him a wide berth and continued walking home. He listened as the man cursed him out but barely managed to stumble up. Drunk Guy went to follow Peter but got distracted puking his guts out.

Peter felt bad. He didn’t like hurting people like that. Gotham was hard to survive in and many people spent their meager amounts of money on drugs and alcohol to have a break from their problems. Once all their money was gone, for whatever reasons, a lot of them turned to crime to earn some extra cash. Most stuck with petty crimes like mugging, being a low-level goon and robbing franchises. Those were the people Peter wished he could help.

The few months he ran Stark Industries, he put a lot of money into programs that helped those areas like jobs for people with criminal records, safe using sites (which were not well liked by the public), food kitchens, and anything else that aided low-income families.

He growled his frustrations about not being help as he walked into his apartment, pausing when he saw a note on his door.

Nice, flowey, handwriting wrote: “Hey, kid. I’m going to be out of town the rest of the week. If you need anything, go to your bosses. The Wayne’s are safe people.

When I get back, let’s have dinner, my treat. I want to exchange numbers as well so I don’t have to leave revealing notes on your front door.

Good luck, don’t do anything I wouldn’t, and definitely don’t die (again).

-J”

Peter smiled and note and folded it up before slipping it inside his phone case. Jason was nice, murderer and all. He reminded Peter a lot of Deadpool. That guy had been obsessed with making sure Peter ate on patrol and didn’t die.

Peter locked his door and ate four more of the sandwiches, a little disappointed in how fast he was running out of them. The knowledge that were going to go bad soon didn’t help much either.

He crashed on the couch after a quick shower, warm blankets soon to be kicked off from nightmares.

Peter woke tired in the morning but a shower and some food woke him up. He packed his bags and headed to work without ceremony.

He grumbled in complaint as he was handed the Get Together hot chocolate Stella had made, another intern having done the coffee run. He sat at his desk and drank the drink with a pout while writing a progress report for his project. Technically, it was supposed to be a big deal to come up with the web formula but he had done when he was 14.

That being said, he had to write a progress report for this ‘big’ achievement. He didn’t want to push Dr. Davis by not following protocol either. He’d be really disappointed to be taken off this project when he was just getting into it.

With a finished progress report on his desk, Peter pulled out the equipment to make a sturdy but small spray bottle for the WebAid. It combines the wed canisters his formula was stored in and his shooters which deployed the webs using a variety of spray mechanics. It wouldn’t be too hard to do a basic spray with the canister but he wanted this to be mass produced and affordable so he had to use sturdy but cheap materials and simple plans for the nozzle. And he still needed to find a way to keep the nozzle from clogging. The few times his shooters clogged, he would stick his finger on it and pull it out but he can’t do that if this is to be easily available.

His tinker was once again interrupted, this time by someone he didn’t recognize. “Hello there! Mr. Parker-Stark, right?”

Peter eyed him warily not liking how his spidey-sense was flaring. “Correct. I’m afraid I don’t know who you are.”

“Bruce Wayne.” He stuck out his hand which Peter ignored in favor of trying to stare into his soul. “My kids have been telling me about you.”

Peter continued glaring as spoke, “Nice to meet you. Where are Tim and young Mr. Wayne?”

Bruce smiled softly. “Tim is sick at the moment but he will be back next week. Damian’s school schedule only allows him one day a week to come to the tower.”

Peter continued his suspicious glaring. He wasn’t sure about Bruce Wayne. The media portrayed him a goofy, loving playboy but clearly that wasn’t all he was if he was triggering Peters spidey-sense. He would have to investigate the man on his off time. If Tim and Damian were being abused, he needed to do something about it. Just because he won’t be Spider-Man doesn’t mean he can’t be a random person spying on Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Wayne ignored is glare and asked gently, “What are you working on?”

Peter hesitated to tell him. He was excited about this project. He didn’t want Bruce Wayne, the owner and face of the company, to take it away. But, he’d be able to read the project reports anyway. “Emergency medical bandages that can spray onto just about any wound and stop the bleeding.”

“That sounds quite clever! What material are you making the spray out of?” Bruce leaned a little closer, inspecting the clutter on his desk.

“It’s derived off of a spiders silk. Strong and sticky although the formula I have dissolves after two hours.”

“Is it kept in liquid form? I can see this being quite a useful item for military first aid as well as in Gotham with the amount of violent crime.”

Peter blushed at the interest, rubbing his neck. The compliments turned his attention away from his suspicions. “Yeah. It’s sorta like silly string where it turns into the sticky string once it’s exposed to air. All the chemicals for making it are relatively easy to find and the process of making it is fairly quick and doesn’t require anything more than heat and a container. While hot, it won’t react to air so it’s best to mix the chemicals above 327 Kelvin.

“My biggest challenge right now is actually making the containers easy to mass-produce while being cost efficient and not allowing the mixture to be exposed to air. I still have a lot of testing to do in terms of usability but I know it’s body safe and works to stop bleeding.”

Bruce hummed in thought, picking up the progress report and skimming it. “So you have already made the mixture. How long have you been working on this?”

Peter scrunched his face a bit, twirling one of his tools between his fingers. “I started the project yesterday but I first made the webs when I was 14 in chemistry class. I refined the mixture with my dad before moving onto other projects.”

Peter was sending his thanks to his past self for having the foresight to list Tony Stark as his adoptive father. He stuck as close to the truth as possible with Richard and Mary Parker dying of a plane crash when he was 4, Ben dying when he was 14, and May dying when he was 15. He did have to create all of them and give them something of a history. Tony Stark owned a small startup that never got a government number and Peter inherited it before it closed down due to bankruptcy. He had spent quite a bit of time making everything seem real. Of course, if anyone dug too deep they would find no social media, no news articles, no paper copies of any documents.

If anyone found out Peter had fabricated everything, he’d had a multitude of response plans ranging from more lies, running, to even blackmail. He had a few fake ID’s hidden in his apartment, ready for shit to hit the fan.

Bruce chuckled, snapping Peter out of his reminiscing. “Tim was that way. I didn’t adopt him until he was 12 but he was always coming up with something. It was my greatest pleasure to what those ideas form and take life. Is your father still around to enjoy that?”

Peter shook his head sadly, not meeting Bruce’s eyes. “He died last year.”

“Who are you staying with now?” Oh boy. Bruce Wayne was concerned. Peter wasn’t going to feed into his adoption addiction.

Peter laughed slightly. “I’m 18, Mr. Wayne. I don’t need adopted.”

Bruce blushed and waved the thought away. “No, no. I was just concerned about who you were staying with now that he’s passed. I was lucky to have Alfred however some of my kids weren’t so fortunate to end up with someone looking out for them for years.”

Peter sighed but relented. “Tony adopted me after my aunt passed. She and my uncle took me when my parents died when I was four. My uncle died when I was 14 and my aunt when I was 15. I had already been living with Tony when my aunt passed because she had been in and out of the hospital.”

“Hmm. So that means Tony died when you were 17. How did you get by on your own?”

Peter grinned and chuckled out, “I nearly didn’t. This internship was what got me onto my feet and I was able to get an apartment. I’ve been doing great since!”

Bruce frowned. “I didn’t think the internships payed that much.”

Peter grimaced and admitted, “It doesn’t. I work weekends somewhere else.”

“And you earn enough money between the two?”

Peter smirked. “You don’t need to worry about me, Mr. Wayne! I’ve got people looking out for me and I’ve got enough to live comfortably.” Peter looked down at his phone and grimaced. “Actually, I’m going to be late for my other job if I don’t leave soon. It was a pleasure talking to you, Mr. Wayne. I hope to see Tim and Wayne Jr. here next week.”

Bruce seemed distracted as he said his goodbyes, staring down at the papers in his hand. He was trying to remember why they didn’t pay the interns that much and how a kid as smart as Peter Parker ended up as an intern.

Peter left his supplies on his desk for the first time since starting (he wasn’t going to just toss everything in random drawers in front of Bruce Wayne!) and went to check his battery. It was still green so he confirmed that the camera had enough storage for the weekend and headed out.

He didn’t have enough time to run and home and shower so he sprinted to his next job.

He bursted into the employee entrance and tossed his bag into his locker, grabbing his uniform. He ran to the changing rooms, greeting his coworkers as he sprinted by and threw on his outfit.

Peter sat himself in front of the mirrors and hastily threw on his stage makeup, chuckling softly at the red and yellows Stark loved being mixed with Loki green.

Once the glitter and dramatic makeup were as close to perfect as he time for, Peter smoothed out his outfit, threw a smile on his face, and headed towards the stage.

“Well we all love our own Dolly Parton look-alike but I think it’s time for Drag Alley's own hero to come out to play! Everyone turn on your bat signals for… ROBINETTE!”

Peter flipped onto stage, doing as many dramatics tricks as possible for grinning to the audience. His costume was a mixture of the original Robins with its fluorescent reds, yellows, and greens. Thankfully, it was designed to give him the flexibility he needed to preform all the fun acrobatics. “Hello, Gotham! How’s everyone doing tonight? I know for a fact I don’t need to save you from a boring show because Ms. Parton is drag-tastic!”

Peter kept up the jokes and puns while doing acrobatic tricks.

“Do you guys want something fabuluxe tonight? Yeah? I’ve got just the thing!”

He snagged an umbrella from the side of the stage and lip-synced to ‘Umbrella.”

“Did y’all like that? I’m spoiled by all your love! Do you know why the Penguin always carries his umbrella? Because he wants to rain on Batman’s parade!”

He grinned when he saw Liam in the audience, jumping out his seat in cheers. The man was so invested in getting Peter to come to the Drag Shows when Peter was already there.

He bowed with a final grin and left the stage to a Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn Queen duo. The reformed villains are quite loved nowadays and their queen counterparts were even more-so. The other Queens of Drag Alley are a tough competition for the favorites, though.

Chapter Text

It’s been two weeks since Jason left his note. Peter hadn’t worried when he didn’t return in exactly a week. He hadn’t worried when it had been a week and two days. He worried a bit when it was a week and a half. Now he was fully worried at two weeks.

He didn’t know what to do. There was no way to contact Jason or Red Hood and he didn’t exactly want to seek out Red Hood goons.

A sigh escaped his mouth as he fell backward, roof gravel poking his back. The smoggy skies were a lot like home. Sure, there were more days in Queens where the sky was clear but the clouds and smog were comforting. His eyes drifted closed at the comfort, mind slowly dipping into the abyss of sleep.

Gravel crunching had him shooting up, facing the people in a defensive stance. The guys wearing black and yellow, Singal, smelt strongly of sunlight and damp shadows. It was a paradoxical combination and made Peter hesitant to fight him. The other guy, Nightwing, smelled like greasy fast food and sugary candy which was slightly comforting. His body language, however, was not. While the vigilante held himself loose and open, Peter could see where his muscles were tensed, prepared to dodge or run at Peter.

“Hey there, kiddo!” Nightwing chirped, spreading his hands a little further apart. “Mind stepping away from the edge?”

Peter frowned but slid out of his defensive position and took a step away. “Why are you here? Nightwing doesn’t patrol Gotham and Signal doesn’t come into Crime Alley.”

The pair of vigilantes exchanged a glance, seeming to communicate non-verbally. Nightwing was the one who spoke up again, “We noticed Red Hood hasn’t been patrolling lately. I popped in from out of town and decided to spend some time with my favorite baby bat.”

Peter stared at the vigilantes for a minute, awkward silence lurking between them. He knew that silence was the best way to get someone to talk but if they knew something about Red Hood… “Have you heard anything from Red Hood? He said he’d be back last week but he’s not and I’m worried.”

Peter frowned as the pair exchanged another glance, this time with more surprise in their body language.

“You know Red Hood?” Signal asked, tilting his head curiously.

Peter squinted. Was he not supposed to know Red Hood? Jason was the one who left the note but Red Hood was Jason. “Maybe. Answer my question first.”

Nightwing chuckled. “You got spirit, kid! No, we haven’t heard anything. That’s why we are here. If he’s gone, we need to know.”

“He’s not gone!” Peter defended, panic rising at the suggestion. “He said he’d be back and he will!”

Both vigilantes raised their hands in surrender at the now-angry teen in front of them. Nightwing tried to soothe, “We believe you! We are just trying to prepare for any situation.”

Peter didn’t calm. Jason couldn't be gone. “You should leave. I don’t think you are welcome here. This is Red Hood's territory.”

When the vigilantes didn’t move, Peter yelled, “Leave! Please?”

Both vigilantes nodded and jumped off the roof, grappling towards the border of Crime Alley. Peter sighed in relief, dropping back into a sit. He definitely shared more than he meant to but he was scared. What if… what if his Parker Luck had worked already? He didn’t want to lose anyone else, especially not someone he just started liking!

He groaned in annoyance when he felt eyes watching him. Another bat? He got up with a huff and jumped off the roof, rolling to cushion his fall. He didn’t need to but the last thing he wanted was to tip the vigilantes off that he was a meta.

He slipped into different alleys, moving quickly until he no longer felt the eyes. He didn’t let himself relax yet, though, and walked to his favorite 24/7 cafe called ‘Espresso Yourself.’ The barista, Steph, greeted him with overwhelming energy. He winced at the thought of Steph and Stella becoming friends. He would probably go blind by the energy they would bounce back and forth.

“Hey, Steph! Mind grabbing me something to snack on? I have-“ He paused, digging for his wallet and pulling out a sad, crumpled five-dollar bill. “-5 dollars!”

“Sure! Caramel popcorn sound good?” At Peter's nod, she grabbed a bag of popcorn and tossed it at him. “On the house! You just so happened to be today's 100th customer so you get it for free!”

He rolled his eyes but settled in a booth that let him see the door but kept him out of sight from the window.

He liked Steph. She was energetic and fun and she smelled like peanuts and coconut. A strange combination, but a surprisingly pleasant one. She’d worked here for less than a month but most of the regulars loved her. The ones that didn’t were the ones bitter about the former barista no longer being the one to greet them. The place had gotten robbed and by a freak accident, the warning shot that the robber fired ricocheted and hit her.

Peter snapped out of his line of thought when a young woman walked in. She smiled and waved at Steph, signing something Peter couldn’t catch before scanning the cafe. Her eyes caught on Peter for a moment before finishing her scan. She grabbed a drink from Steph before sitting down across from Peter. He stared uncomfortably. Most of the tables were open and there were at least two more with a view of the door.

She pointed at herself. “Cass.”

“Uhh, Peter?” His brain was overheating, thinking about why a random, highly-trained person sat across from him.

“Good?” She asked while pointing at the popcorn. Her voice was soft and almost scratchy.

He nodded while signing, ”It’s a good late night snack. Do you want any?”

A brief flash of surprise crossed her face before she grinned. ”No thanks.”

“Why did you sit here? I’m not complaining but the cafe is often and this is Crime Alley,” He spoke, hands busy with popcorn.

Cass shrugged. ”You seem nice. And lonely.”

Peter chuckled at that. “Am I that obvious? I thought people had to know for at least a minute before they said I was lonely.”

He smiled softly as Cass let out a chiming laugh. She stuck out her hand like asking for a handshake. “Friends?”

He examined her for a minute. His spidey-sense did warn she was dangerous in the same way it did Steph but neither was a danger to him. More friends wasn’t a bad thing either unless she had some kind of ulterior motive.

With a grin, he tapped his fingertips to hers in lieu of a handshake. He still didn’t like the feel people's hands on his. Tony taught him to own it just like how he refused to be handed things. When you are smart and rich, you can afford to have quirks. Peter wasn’t rich anymore but he was more confident so if someone wanted to get upset he wouldn't shake their hand, they could deal with it far far away from him.

Cass’ grin spread from ear to ear. She took the fingertip tap in stride and offered a fist bump instead, which Peter eagerly took.

”So now that we are friends, can I ask some questions?” He signed, a little concerned at Cass’ frown. She gave a hesitant nod. ”Awesome! What is your favorite food? I have to know if we are going to have a girl's night.”

Cass seemed shocked at the question and eventually signed, ”Girls night?”

”Oh, I probably should ask first: What are your thoughts on reformed villains as well can you do hair or do you like your hair done?”

She tilted her head in confusion, her face betraying just how lost she was. “No hair. Hurts.”

“That’s fine! My old friend Bucky was scared to have his hair done because his abusers were dicks. He just chilled with us on girl's night and watched until he felt comfortable enough to try doing my hair. Don’t tell him but it hurt a bit at first. His prosthetic kept snagging on my hair but he was so happy! I think that’s why he was scared to join. He had been brainwashed into hurting people before and didn’t want to hurt us and it was a huge thing to let someone touch his head too.”

Cass smiled softly at Peters's story and finally signed, “I like a lot of food. No alcohol.”

Peter waved his hand in the air dramatically. “Alcohol was banned after Ivy got drunk one time and tried to use her plant powers and let's just say it was chaos. Have you ever tried to clean plant guts off your wall? The walls and I were stained green for months!”

Cass gave another one of her chiming laughs. Peter cheered internally at the win and decided to see if he could get any more. “And Harley! Love her but do not ever let her get a drop of alcohol. I don’t know if she can even get drunk but she will use it as an excuse to go batshit crazy. I got roped into so many gymnastics tricks! I was used as a springboard! AND she went flying into the ceiling with her legs being the only thing left in the apartment! She got hit with a broom by their upstairs neighbor until Ivy pulled her down.”

He smiled widely as Cass laughed again and patted the top of her hand gently. “We would love for you to join us for girl's night sometime. You only have to stay for as long as you're comfortable and if anything is too much, you can tap out. All of us have at some point. I know I did when we were drawing on each other and they got too close to a scar with bad memories so we found something else to do. I was a little disappointed that the giant penis Harley was drawing never got complete though.”

Cass nodded her along and giggled at the end of the story. “Phone?”

“Oh, yeah! Here! Just a fair warning, don’t try to trace it. It came preinstalled with a virus that isn’t pretty and only gets activated when someone tries to snoop.” Well, it didn’t come preinstalled. Peter had installed it when he first got the phone since he had a few people he was running from.

She looked a little surprised but typed in her number and texted herself, handing it back when a ding came from her pocket. She cheered softly and patted his hand. “Bye. Go home now.”

He waved at her as she left, noticing how she gave Steph a deep hug on her way out. He liked her. She reminded him a lot of Bucky in the way she held herself and the way her eyes seemed to see everything. Bucky was that way. Natasha was too. She was an actor, though. She could play any character and you wouldn’t know while Cass seemed so… on edge. She wasn’t scared but she was prepared for anything. Every twitch of Peter’s finger had her gaze within a second and every big movement had her tensing.

He didn’t mind, though. He had been there for almost all of Bucky's recovery so he knew when to push, how to act, and what the hurdles were.

It was exciting to make a new friend and much as it was bittersweet to make one that was so much like Bucky. He missed the man but he would never wish that anyone experienced what Bucky had. He wasn’t going to ‘fix’ Cass but if she’d let him, he’d be a safe, positive person for her.

He left the cafe with a dopey grin, waving at Steph before heading home. He wasn’t quite tired yet and his stomach had started rumbling for something more substantial so he grabbed a jar of peanut butter and the only clean utensil before sitting down to eat. His brain quickly started spiraling so he began pacing and thinking out loud.

—

Jason had had a long two weeks. His teammate had asked for help out of the country so he went and shit hit the fan. The whole thing dragged out another week before he was able to make it back to Crime Alley.

He was worried about the fucking baby that lived on the floor below that didn’t have a sense of stranger danger. He wasn’t going to let the kid get fucked over in his alley. The note he’d left only said he’d be gone a week so hopefully the kid didn’t presume dead and ransack him. Jason would have and did when he was in the kid's position.

When he’d gotten back, all he wanted was a hot shower, a warm meal, a soft bed, and a safe child. He got none of that. The water was frigid. His soup in the fridge was expired so he made a sandwich. His bed was never soft. And the safe child?

The fucking child was pacing on the ceiling of apartment eating a jar of peanut butter with a steak knife. A steak knife! Even creepier, he was muttering about assassins and brainwashing and how annoying it is to not kill the abusers. What?!

“What the fuck?” He whispered from the window, watching as the child sitting on the ceiling turned his head freakishly far to stare at him and waved the hand with the steak knife. Nope. It was too late to deal with this. “Give me that.”

Peter frowned. Jason noticed his dark eye bags. Were kids supposed to be up this late? Maybe he should get some parenting books. “This is my peanut butter.”

“Can I see the knife? I’ll give it right back.” Jason had known this child for two hours and he already knew that he wasn’t getting that knife without a few lies.

Peter squinted but slowly held the knife out to Jason. He snatched it before turning heel and leaving. Peter stared at the closed window, blinking owlishly.

“But my knife… Do you want me to eat with my hands?! Because I will!”

Bonus:

Cass has always struggled to make friends. Her family found her and they all attached themselves to each other. But outside of that? She wasn’t really friends with anyone.

People were weird. She knew exactly what they were thinking just by their body. It made her feel bad. It made her feel icky and gross to know someone that deeply and them not even know. But if she told them, they freaked out.

Then there’s Peter. Peter knew the second she walked in. He didn’t care that she knew what he was feeling. He did care about making her laugh which is something only Steph, Barbara, and Dick tried. He was honest even if he was uncomfortable. She liked him.

She had made a friend.

So when she came home and Dick and Duke pounced on her for information, she got a little upset. Of course, she didn’t show it.

“So? What did you find out? Does the kid know Red Hood?” Dick was pushy in his curiosity but he also was nervous and uncomfortable. Duke was hesitant and tense.

Cass shrugged. “He Good. Not sus.”

Dick and Duke deflated. Bruce had been pressuring them to figure out Red Hood and it got worse when he disappeared. They were scared to disappoint, both Batman and Bruce.

She patted their arms, giving each one a small smile before heading upstairs. A true smile spread across her face when she was alone.

She had a friend!

Chapter Text

“So. You’re a meta.”

“Yep!” Peter chirped looking at the upside-down man. Or rather, Peter was sitting on the ceiling and Jason was on the floor but was it really a ceiling if you were using it as a floor? What defined ceiling and floor besides up and down?

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why. How.”

“Aren’t metas, like, common here?” Peter tilted his head with the question.

Jason groaned. “I don’t want to know. I really don’t want to know the answers to any of this.”

Peter giggled softly but let himself fall off the ceiling, catching himself on his hands. He laughed when Jason flinched and moved forward to watch him.

“How the fuck did I end up in charge of my own demon child?”

“Hey! It’s demon man to you, Mr. Crime Lord Vigilante!”

Peter’s glare didn’t have any heat behind it but it did soften when he saw how tired Jason looked. “Alright, alright. I got powers when I was bitten by a GMO spider. They always say to watch what you eat because GMO will hurt you or something but never to make sure you aren’t eaten by something GMO.”

It didn’t help. Jason looked even more dead inside. “I’m going to shoot myself if this doesn’t start making sense. Why the fuck did you call me a vigilante crime lord?”

“Nuh-uh! I called you ‘Mr. Crime Lord Vigilante!’ Was I not supposed to know? It was kinda obvious when I fixed you up and then tried to break into my apartment without your mask on. I can forget if you want, Mr. not Crime Lord Vigilate. Also, do you want me to shoot you? I know all the best places to shoot someone so it hurts but doesn’t kill them! I’ve never done it but I’ve listened to at least a hundred lectures on it.”

Peter stared as Jason did some breathing exercises. Finally, he opened his eyes again and pointed to the couch. “Sit.”

Peter sat. That was the tone Tony used when he was pissed. He wasn’t about to test it. The last time he tried to, he ended up a duct-tape mummy. At least it wasn’t the mom voice Pepper used. That led to the lab being banned.

“Let me get this straight. You found out my secret identity. The exact secret identity that would lead to bats murdering me if they found out I was alive.”

Peter hummed and then nodded. “Well, I know Jason is Red Hood but I don’t know anything else. On a more concerning note, the bats may or may not know that I know you? Yeah.”

“Fuuuuck,” Jason groaned while banging his head on the wall. “They cannot see my face or know my name, got it?”

“Capiche, boss man! They don’t know where I live and I lost the one they had tracking me before I got home.”

“I have so many fucking questions but every time you answer one, I get three more.”

Peter’s face twitched into a smug grin before he forced it into innocence. “I’ve been told that numerous times. Especially when my team tried to get me to explain how I knew I could lift ten to fifteen tons. Which I don’t think is correct anymore.”

Jason slammed his head particularly hard on the wall before biting out, “You and my old man need to be in the same room sometime. I think you’d succeed where I failed in killing him.”

“I actually did give my dad a heart attack playing this game once. Or maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t slept in 78 hours and was running solely on coffee and smoothies containing motor oil.”

Jason frowned and questioned, “Was he a fucking robot?”

Peter did the so-so motion with his hand. “He cosplayed as a robot but the motor oil was because one of his robots liked to make smoothies but somehow always put motor oil in it. I thought it tasted good but I was forced to eat activated charcoal more than once so I decided to stop accepting them.”

The man pinched his nose again, sighing. “I can’t with you. Back on topic, what do you mean the bats know you know me? They don’t come into Crime Alley.”

“Oh yeah. Uhh- they found me chilling on a rooftop and asked me some questions so I asked about you and they kinda maybe assumed I knew you. Then they sent a different bat to stalk me but I lost them and chilled in a cafe for an hour or two before heading home. I made a new friend at the cafe and also one of those bat guys smelled really weird. It was like standing in a sunny field and in a damp, dark alley at the same time. The other guy smelled like burgers and candy. It made me super hungry.”

Jason took a minute to process the word vomit. “So it was Signal and Nighwing. Are you sure that no one followed you?”

“Yep! I have an ability that lets me sense danger and stuff so I noticed when they started following me.”

The crime lord blinked a few times before asking, “Is that how you knew I was ‘safe?’”

Peter nodded eagerly. “Hey, do you want to spar? I miss getting to demolish lesser beings.”

“Hey!” Jason squawked, pulling Peter close to ruffle his hair. “You are so on!”

—

Tim’s day had been pretty good. He had finished all his work, closed two big cases, and was getting in some early evening patrol time. The dock warehouses normally had small and large crime rings going through so it’s always a good place to pick up a new case. It was a little close to Red Hood's territory for his comfort as the man had almost killed him multiple times but the docks drew in criminals like moths to a flame so the bats had to follow.

What was weird was the fact that Bizzaro was walking into a random warehouse. Super-Man’s somewhat evil self was in Gotham at the docks. That alone would normally have him calling for backup but he wanted to investigate a bit more and he had blue kryptonite in the same lead pouch his green was in.

He made his way to the rooftop of that building, scrunching his face in confusion at the cheering going on inside. Using his grapple, he rappelled down the side so he could look in a window. His mouth dropped in shock at what he saw.

Bizzaro and Arsenal, two beings with crazy super strength, were teaming up against some random teen and losing. Red Hood and Artemis stood on the sidelines cheering. Artemis occasionally stuffed a handful of popcorn in her mouth while Red Hood threw the popcorn at the kid, likely trying to trip him up.

”Hey, O,” Red Robin whispered into his comm, “I got a situation in the blue warehouse by the docks. Bizzaro and Arsenal are fighting a kid while Red Hood and Artemis encourage it.”

Tim paled with a flinch as both Bizzaro and the kid snapped their heads to look at him. The kid dodged Arsenal's hit without even looking and pointing at him, saying something.

Bizzaro yelled out, “Look down there! A not Bat! Everyone stay. Must talk about fight club!”

Red Robin cursed as the group scattered, Bizzaro flying out with the kid. Red Hood was the closest one to follow but he wasn’t in the mood to die today so he called it in and decided to find a case elsewhere.

—

Peter giggled from where he sat in a booth at a small diner in Crime Alley. The whole fight club had regrouped for food although Arsenal and Red Hood hadn’t taken off their masks.

Red Robin had seen them sparring which was concerning but he wasn’t worried about the bats getting to him. They were banned from Crime Alley so they only had the few blocks between the border and his work to snatch him if they did. Plus, he has too many friends for them to keep him for long.

“That was not fun. You are weak, not Peter.” Bizzaro Brian was smiling widely at Peter, seeming happier than when he had gotten to the warehouse.

Peter blushed. “Aww thanks, Mr. Brian! I had a lot of fun too!”

Artemis scowled and huffed, “I wanted to spar with you, Peter. We will have to do this again next week and I want first go.”

“Of course, Miss Artemis! You remind me a lot of a few of my old sparring buddies so I am excited to see if I can beat you.”

“Am I chopped liver, kid? I was the one that invited you to the you-know-what!” Red Hood tried to act angry but Peter just knew he was smiling under the helmet.

Arsenal punched Jason gently in the shoulder before turning to Peter. “I think you have more control over your strength than I do and I’ve been training for years.”

“I’ve been training for over three years now!” Peter exclaimed in mock offense.

Arsenal frowned. “Did you get your powers when you were ten or something because you look your 13?”

“Rude! I got my powers when I was 14 and I’m 18 now!”

The four across from him shared a look before Red Hood sighed and took the lead. “You need to learn to lie better, kid. We all know you aren’t 18 and you just proved it.”

“What! I am 18! I just didn’t train the first year?”

Artemis patted Peter's shoulder. “It’s okay if you aren’t 18. We will still treat you the same.”

“Not correct. 17 is a child. Have you not had your first drink of alcohol?” Bizzaro stated kindly, trying to reaffirm what the others said.

“Thanks, B. I have had alcohol before but I don’t like it. It’s not like most of it affects me anyway.”

Red Hood tilted his head in question. “Most?”

“One of my old teammates was similar to me so his people made special alcohol that could affect them. I hated being drunk, though. I couldn’t control my powers at all.”

“You keep mentioning teammates. What kind of team?” Jason pressed a little further.

Peter’s brows furrowed as he thought about what to say. He didn’t want to say he was from another dimension. He’d already admitted to his team being trained and enhanced, so he couldn’t say it was a soccer team. “It was an underground superhero team. We got disbanded after some stuff happened and I was separated. I don’t think the Justice League had even heard about us so we were either that small or that good.”

Hood tensed a little. “It wasn’t run by a creepy really old guy and his daughter, right? With green pits that bring people back to life.”

Peter shook his head quickly. “Nope. I have never interacted with the creepy assasin guys but I have spied on them. My group was run by a pirate guy named Fury.”

The whole group paused for a moment as Peter’s words registered and at least three of them yelled, “You spied on the league?!”

“Mhm. The weird assassin guys, right? Yeah, I saw them when I was on the streets and followed them around for a while. I have no clue how they didn’t see me but eventually they left the city so I mostly forgot.”

Red Hood stood up and grabbed Peter's shoulder in a tight grip. “Listen to me closely, Peter. Never, and I say never, go near those people again. You find me or one of the others here and you hide. They hurt me and so many others and it would break me if they hurt you.”

Peter nodded seriously. “I get it. I’ve been in your shoes. Although I’m a little confused. We’ve known each other for like a week, three if you count the ones you were gone. Is this a ‘I just met you but I’d kill everyone in this room and then myself if something happened’ situation? Because I have to say, that seems to happen a lot.”

A metaphorical lightbulb went off above Arsenal's head. “Hey Hood… You remind me of someone right now.”

Hood squinted under his helmet. “Do I now?”

Roy nodded. “Yep. I seem to remember your old man saying these things all the time and you bitching about it to me.”

Jason started at Roy for a solid minute, the group slowly getting tenser. Peter snickered, drawing the attention to him. “He is such a dad. He bought parenting books and everything.” At everyone’s snorts, Peter grinned and added, “I’m dadass serious.”

Red Hood sat back down and let his head slam on the table while the rest of the group laughed. Peter snagged a fry from the basket, eyeing the embarrassed man. He had mentioned a bad relationship with his ‘old man’ so his reaction to Arsenal's comment made sense. Peter was a bit surprised that he had calmed down at Peter’s joke, though.

“Well if I’m your dad then will you move in with me? We gotta change safe houses since those bats are snooping around.”

Peter froze at the request. Was he ready for this? Who was he kidding? “Hell yeah! I miss scaring the bejeebers out of people in the middle of the night!” Sue him. He was lonely and he missed having a family.

Jason reeled back at the easy acceptance and the potential threat. Arsenal snorted loudly. “J, my boy, you better get those papers. He is exactly like you and your siblings so if you don’t take him, your pops somehow will.”

“Fuck you.” Jason punched Roy in the arm before giving Peter a side hug. “Can’t have this dumbass looking out of himself. Plus, who would eat all the cookies I make?”

The other three perked up at that. “Wait, you got to eat his cookies?!? We have to fight him for them.”

“I guess I’m the favorite now. Sorry folks.” Of course, he’d be willing to share the cookies if they visited, but only a few. Those were his cookies after all.

Chapter Text

“So now that we officially live together,” Peter started while setting the last box of their meager combined items on the table. “Can I know your last name?”

“I’m going to fucking shoot myself,” Jason mumbled before turning to Peter, “Do you not know my last name? Did you, an actual child, just move in with someone you don’t even know the last name of?”

“Yep!” Peter chirped while investigating the cupboards. There was an actual pantry!

Jason took a measured breath. “You are going to kill me one day, kid. Do you want the real one or the fake one?”

“Ooh, I get to choose? Fake, please!”

The man looked startled at the decision. “Why the fake one?”

Peter tilted his head in confusion. “Because it’s better for your cover and I don’t need to know the real one.”

“Aren’t you curious?”

“Not really. Who you are now matters more than who you were.” Peter grinned when he saw the gap between the top of the cupboards and the ceiling. He’d totally hide there.

Jason let out a frustrated breath. “But what if I am a murderer or something? What if I did something bad? Wouldn’t you want to know?”

Peter finally turned his attention to the slowly panicking man. “Jason, I don’t care. You are a good person now so what you did in the past doesn’t bother me. Plus, I already know about your murderous tendencies! It’s not something that bothers me unless you decide to start bringing the bodies to me like a cat. That was not a fun conversation to have with Wade.”

“What the fuck, kid,” Jason groaned while running his hand through his hair. “Can you ever open your mouth without making me concerned? You should be bothered that I hurt and killed people!”

Peter shrugged, walking a little closer to Jason. “Everyone makes mistakes. If people had been less quick to judge me, I wouldn’t be here.”

Jason cursed and grabbed Peter's arm, pulling him into a tight hug. “You are a dumbass, squirt. I don’t know how you lived this long. But it’s Moore. Jason Moore.”

“Well, technically I haven’t.”

Jason snorted at the joke, putting Peter into a headlock to give him a noogie. “Go get cleaned up. I’ll start on dinner. Unless you can cook?”

“Does burnt water count as a meal?” Peter asked innocently, pretending to walk into the kitchen.

Jason scoffed, cutting Peter off to shove him towards the bathroom. “No chance. Breaded fish sound alright? Any other allergies besides cinnamon?”

“No, breaded fish sounds disgusting,” Peter joked until he saw Jason’s expression. “Kidding! It sounds fudging amazing! I’m allergic to mint, all types.”

Jason nodded his understanding and moved to the boxes to see which ones had the kitchen utensils.

The bathroom at the new apartment was huge! Well, it wasn’t as big as any Tony provided but it was bigger than he was used to. There was space on the side of the sink to put stuff and the shower was high enough that he wouldn’t have to duck to get under the stream. There was even space to store toilet paper.

The apartment itself was much bigger too. Both Jason and Peter had their own rooms with beds. It had been so long since Peter slept in a bed. It had been even longer since he had a closet to store his stuff. His nicer clothes were able to be hung, keeping wrinkles away while there was plenty of space for his other clothes.

The kitchen was an actual kitchen, not the kitchenette Peter had been using. They had a little bar to eat at and a pantry and a fridge. The living room that it opened to was just as awesome. They had a big enough couch for both Jason and Peter to stretch out and sleep on with a soft rug in front of it. The TV was nice. Peter hadn’t been able to watch TV since he lived with Tony. Oh, how he missed Star Wars.

Once his shower was complete, Peter threw on a pair of well-worn but soft pajamas and padded out to the kitchen. Jason greeted him with a soft smile and gestured for Peter to sit down. A hot plate of breaded fish and rice was set in front of him. He'd be drooling if he wasn’t in polite company. (Who was he kidding? Jason wasn’t polite and he was totally drooling.)

The fish was buttery and soft while the rice had a bit of lemon tang in it. It filled the part of Peter that missed hot meals with family. Jason seemed happy that Peter was enjoying his meal if the crinkles at the corners of his eyes meant anything.

“So, how does an early night and then unpacking in the morning sound? I don’t know about you but I’m beat.”

Peter pretended to think and decided to tease Jason some more. “Nah, I think we should stay up all night and unpack. I think it will make more sense in the long run if we put things where sleep-deprivation brains tell us to.”

The crime lord caught on this time and snorted. “Yeah, I bet all the forks being stuck in the ceiling will be convenient to me. Just to be safe, do eggs, bacon, and pancakes sound good for breakfast? I can make something else if you don’t like those.”

“Jason, my guy, I am drooling just thinking about it. I’ll eat anything you cook as long as I’m not allergic. Actually, I’ll eat that too so don’t worry about it!” Peter shoveled another mouthful of the rice into his mouth. His plate was getting empty but he was still so hungry. He pushed down the hunger, knowing he could eat from the snacks in his bag if he needed to.

Jason glared at him. “Like I said, every time you open your mouth, I get more worried. Do not, and I mean this more than I can say, do not eat stuff you are allergic to. I will hide every single one of your tools and sabotage every one of your projects if you do. Understood?”

Peter gaped. “Nooo. That’s mean! You are such a dad. I’d fight it if I didn’t know how serious you were and how effective of a punishment that is.”

“Good. Glad you agree. Now help me with the dishes and head to bed,” Jason directed, his tone surprisingly motherly.

Peter grinned and grabbed the plates to clean them. He had been scolded by both May and Pepper about putting the dishes in the dishwasher without a quick rinse so he completed the job. Jason snorted at him from where he was putting the leftovers in the fridge but looked away when Peter shot him a glare. He was pretty sure May would rise from the grave if he didn’t do it right.

Jason ruffled his hair once they finished. “Night, squirt. There's snacks in the pantry and you can eat the leftovers if you get hungry during the night. There’s also tea and hot chocolate packets in the pantry so help yourself. Don’t worry if you hear noises from my room. I’ll probably have a few nightmares but it’s nothing to worry about.”

“I’ll probably have them too. I don’t recommend being close to me when I wake up but I’m safe once I realize where I am.”

Jason huffed a laugh. “We are way too alike, kid. I’ll probably have a gun or a knife so stay out of the room until I wake. I’ll wander in the kitchen and start baking after a bit if you really want to check on me.”

The pair gave each other a quick hug before retreating to their beds. Peter thought he would struggle sleeping with how excited he still felt but he was out the second his head hit the pillow.

He woke up to sunlight streaming in from his window, little dust particles dancing around in the stream. He laid there and watched for a minute before forcing himself up and to the bathroom. He smiled at the black toothbrush sitting beside his red one as he brushed his teeth with strawberry toothpaste.

Once awake, he made his way into the kitchen where the heavenly smell of breakfast lingered. Jason smiled from where he was writing a letter and gestured to the covered plates. “Mornin, sleepyhead. I saved you some breakfast.”

Peter snatched the plates and started digging in, only starting to eye the letter once most of the plate was cleared. With a full mouth, he asked, “What’s that?”

“A letter,” Jason asked, signing his name on the bottom.

Peter tilted his head curiously, swallowing his bite. “To who? Wait, sorry. You don’t have to answer. It’s none of my beeswax.”

Jason chuckled, ruffling Peter's hair. “It’s fine. It’s actually to you.” At Peter's confused face, Jason added, “My therapist has me writing letters to the people I love and hate saying the things I never could or can say to their face. It’s actually quite healing.”

“Why me? Can’t you say it to me now?”

Jason scrunched his face. “I hate to admit it but I’m a lot like my old man. Speaking my emotions is really hard so I write them first.” After a moment of thought, he held out the letter to the teen. “Here. You can read it.”

Peter hesitantly took it. He glanced between it and Jason warily before opening it.

To: Peter

Hey squirt,

I am just amazed at how quickly you grew on me. I’ve never gotten so attached to someone so quickly. I’ve faced so much loss in my life that I’ve learned not to let people in so to have this dumbass teen suddenly inside my walls is weird. But it’s nice too.

You remind me so much of my brothers and it’s scary. But it’s comforting. I miss them so much but they wouldn’t want me back even if I tried. But you do. For some reason, you want me even knowing that I’m not perfect. That I’m not good or nice or that I might hurt you.

And I know you know! Even if you haven’t shared it, I know you know loss and pain and suffering. I know you know everything I could easily do to you, how much I could make you hurt. Yet you trust me. You don’t want to leave me even knowing that. It’s… scary. Scary knowing how vulnerable you are making yourself but scary thinking I might have been wrong about my brothers. Maybe if I gave them a chance then they’d accept me too.

It’s even more scary knowing I’m like my dad. He adopts kids like crazy but doesn’t know how to express his emotions. It led to so many fights with him that I can’t even remember the one that led to my death. I’m terrified that I’m going to lead you to your death like he did me. I’m terrified I’m going to hurt you or bring danger to you. The biggest thing keeping me from pushing you away is the danger you’ve already brought onto yourself.

I don’t want my emotional constipation to hurt you. I want you to know how much I love you. I want you to know how proud I am of you. How smart and wonderful you are. I just worry that I’m not ready to share all that. What if I haven’t healed enough for this? What if I do what Bruce did and you end up hurt?

Because kid, you are the brightest little fucker I’ve seen. You somehow make everyone feel better than they were before just by being in the same room. To think that I might be one to dim that is terrifying.

But I have a feeling that you won’t let me go even if I tried to push you away, little spider monkey. So I’ll do my best to heal and to grow so I don’t dim that light. I will be better. Better than I was yesterday and better than Bruce was to me.

Love ya,

-J

Peter was a bit surprised as he finished the letter. Jason was scared of hurting him. He cleared his throat, trying to keep any emotional tears down. “You know, that’s my line. I’m supposed to be scared of hurting you. Everyone I’ve ever loved has either died or forgotten me.”

“How could anyone forget you,” he snarled, eyes a little greener than before.

“A magic spell that I messed up. It sucked but it did its job, I guess. No more magic for me since that’s the cause of the most recent death.”

Jason ran a hand down his face. “Fuck, kid. You really got the tragic backstory down.”

Peter nodded. “Oh, totally. I haven’t even shared a fourth of it. Can I ask, why are you so scared of hurting me?”

“I have a… chronic illness of sorts that leads to bouts of murderous rage. The eyes are normally a pretty good indication of when it's starting. Haven’t had an episode in a bit, though.”

Peter hummed in thought. “I noticed that. One of my teammates had a similar condition except he turned into a giant green murderous monster. I wonder… did something cause that? And if so, do you know if I had gamma radiation? Does gamma radiation even exist anymore?”

“Slow your roll there, squirt.” Jason chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll answer some of what I heard but that was too fast for me to understand. Yes, something caused this. Big green glowy pits called Lazarus pits. I suspect my wrongness that I got was because of how long I was dead before they put me in there.”

Peter pulled a pen and paper from what seemed like nowhere and started jotting down notes. “So this is a side effect everyone gets? Fascinating! Have you ever heard of gamma radiation? Can you describe the wrongness and the anger?”

Jason tensed as he was put on the spot but humored the teen. “Nope. Never heard of it. As for the wrongness and anger, I’m missing some memories from before I died. Every time I think of my family, I get an extreme urge to hurt or kill them. Hurting them doesn’t satisfy the urge much either. I always feel the anger, the rage, but it’s only a problem when it gets to be too much to control. Sometimes it’s triggered, sometimes I just snap for no reason.”

“Hmm. I wonder if I could make a gamma radiation Geiger counter… If this is a situation like Hulk, I remember Banner's notes on creating peace with him…” Peter mumbled to himself while writing, drawing up a list of materials for the Gamma Geiger counter.

“So, I’m lost. What’s going on?” Jason covered Peter's notes with his hand to keep the boy from going any deeper down the rabbit hole. If scientists were anything like detectives, he wouldn’t resurface until he found answers.

Peter looked out with a small frown. “My teammate, Bruce Banner, was in a lab accident where he was exposed to high levels of gamma radiation which gave him powers in a way. He had the Hulk living inside his head and whenever he got angry, he transformed into him. My theory is that the Lazarus pits are contaminated with gamma radiation and that is what is causing your anger. Do you have thoughts that don’t feel like your own sometimes? Thoughts that are more than intrusive thoughts and that aren’t something you thought before you died?”

Jason nodded hesitantly. Whenever he saw or thought about his family, he would get twisted thoughts about how they hated him or how he wanted to kill hurt them. They didn’t feel like his own and even if he was angry before he died, he never thought at quite this level.

“I thought so. I remember almost all of Dr. Banner's notes. While he wasn’t able to cure himself, he and Hulk learned to work together and he rarely lost control. Hmm… I think I’ll also use some of Bucky's recovery notes as well. He was tortured and brainwashed by Nazis so his identity was often split between the assassin Winter Soldier and the American soldier Bucky Barnes. His recovery was a little different than Banners but I think I can come up with some ideas to help you from both of their notes.”

Jason just blinked at him. This wasn’t the shy and goofy Peter he’d been talking to. This was a confident and intelligent adult trying to help him. “Hey, Pete. You know it’s okay if you can’t help, right? I’ve lived with this for over ten years. I’ll be okay.”

“But you shouldn’t have to!” The teen threw his hands up. “If I can help then I have to try. Unless you are uncomfortable with it because I can stop.”

The older man reached out and ruffled the kids' hair. “It’s fine, Peter. If you really want to, you can. I’m curious, though, do you have a photographic memory?”

Peter nodded, turning his attention back to his notes. Jason sighed but pulled them from his hands again. “Let’s set up some healthy working hours for this project. Mealtimes are a work-free zone and no work after midnight. I’ll only allow you to work on this if you take care of yourself too.”

Peter frowned but set his pen down. He took another bite of the eggs and stared at Jason. “So how did you start to control your anger?” At the look Jason gave, Peter defended, “I’m asking as your friend, not for work! I bet it was frustrating fighting yourself for control.”

“It was. I did a lot of therapy and relied on my team to help me when it got tough. I’ve been able to hold up to your shenanigans so far but I’m not sure if I can to my family yet.” Jason ducked his head a little in embarrassment. He didn’t want to admit how weak he was against the pit rage, especially when his family was involved.

Peter got that look on his face that meant he was going to get into trouble. “Wanna test that?”

Jason glared at him, suspicious, before giving in, “Sure?”

Peter grinned ferally, leaning forward. “So how’d you die?”

Jason huffed as he collapsed onto the couch. Peter had been relentless in his questions, more so than Bruce, only without the scowls. Jason had gotten close to losing control a few times but Peter would intervene with a trick or two and ask again. Most concerningly, Peter had admitted to almost dying because his dad took away his suit and he couldn’t call for help when a villain dropped a building on him. That had sent Jason to the edge of his control and Peter had to break out the ice cubes to calm him down. Peter had almost died the same way Jason had. It was terrifying.

Jason wanted to wrap Peter up in bubble wrap and never let him leave his sight. Or maybe he’d buy one of those child leashes. The kid would probably drive him insane but it’s better than breaking because of his death.

He glanced over at the boxes on the coffee table and pulled one over. “Hey, Peter! Come check this out!”

Peter bounced back into the room, pen writing away on his notepad the whole time. “What’s up?”

“How about you take a minute and come check out these letters? I still have the first ones I wrote after I woke up.” He handed the small stack over to Peter who still seemed wide-eyed at the idea of reading something so personal. Jason would be more bothered if it was anyone else but if these didn’t scare Peter away, nothing would.

After a confirmation, Peter hesitantly opened the first one.

To Bruce and Dick:

I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE! I hate you both so much! You killed me! You let me fucking die! You didn’t save me and I died! Both of us should die a shameful painful death, one worse than mine!

To Bruce:

How could you? You were supposed to save me. You always saved me. But you let me die, alone. Then you let them bring me back.
Then you replaced me. I died and you went and picked another random kid off the street. You even grabbed one with the same eyes and hair as me. I hate you so much. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror! I am broken and ugly inside and out now, all because of you!

Talia wants me to kill you but I can’t! Every time I try to give you what you deserve, I just can’t. I tried to kill my replacement but I was too weak. I died because I was too weak and I was given another chance and I’m still too weak.

I can’t even kill Dick. He left me here all alone and I want him to die! But I’m too weak to kill him too.

To Sheila:

Fuck you. Blood means nothing. In fact, it cost me everything. Even Talia was a better mom than you.

I’m not your son and I never will be.
J

Dear Alfie,

Hey Alfie. I miss you. I miss your cookies and your hugs and your tea. I miss sitting in the kitchen with you when I have nightmares. It’s not fun to be alone during the night.

I’ve always loved you like a grandpa and I always will. Maybe that’s why I can’t kill Bruce or Dick or the replacement. I know it would hurt you and maybe that’s why I can’t.

When I come back, can we make cookies again? You never got around to teaching me how to make macaroons yet.

Love
J

To Dick:

Hey Dickiebird. It’s been a minute. I’m sorry for trying to kill you. I was and still am hurt by how you were off-world when I needed you but I know that you didn’t know that would happen. I know you were trying to do your job, just like you always have.

I miss you, you know. I know we fought a lot but I loved every hug I tried to get away from, every noogie that I punched you for, every kiss that kicked you to stop. I miss you so much. I want you to hug me again but you won’t because I tried to kill you.

You’ll never want me back now. I tried to kill you and I hurt you and you’ll never love me again. I ruined everything and I still want to kill you. Whatever part of me that Joker broke, wants all of you dead. I’m scared, Dickie. I don’t want to hurt you but I do and I’m scared. I can’t control myself and all I want is my brother's hugs.

I’m sorry. I wish I stayed dead so I didn’t hurt you. I think I’m going to stay out of Gotham until I die again. I can’t afford to hurt you or Alfred. I love you.

J

Dear Dick:

Man, I haven't written one of these in years. I’m coming back to Gotham, I think. Seems you and the big bat and whatever replacements he grabbed are letting Crime Alley rot. As much as I still feel like I’m going to kill you, I can’t let that stop me from helping my people.

I still miss you.
J

To Bruce:

You are a bastard. You act all high and mighty where you sit on your perch but you are rotten. You preach about morals and not killing and that bullshit and then you sit on your ass while Joker torments Gotham.

Did you ever love me? You didn’t even get revenge for my death. You keep playing this game with Joker where he escapes and you just put him back over and over. It’s like you don’t even care about how he killed me, how he’s hurting my replacements, how he’s tormenting Gotham. You just keep playing your game over and over.

I don’t think you ever really loved me. I know you loved Dick. He was always the one being light into a room and he gave Gotham energy and jokes. I was always the mess up. You only adopted me because I got caught and you felt bad. Why did you even bring me home? I’m broken and have always been and now every got cut by the pieces.

I wish I never met you. All I got was pain and betrayal. I wish I had stayed dead.

J

To Jason:

You can't do anything right, can you? You can’t be a good son. You can’t steal some tires. You can’t be a good brother or son again. You can’t even die right. Then you are too weak to kill those who hurt you. You can’t protect Crime Alley and you couldn’t save those kids.

You are weak. I wish I was never born! I wish I stayed dead. I can’t even die right when the Lazarus pits aren’t there to stop me. Fuck life and fuck you. It’s a real shame that you won’t die.

No one will ever love you and they never have. You didn’t deserve anything Alfred gave you.

Suffer
J

To Bruce:

It’s been a minute, B. I’ve been going to therapy with a really good therapist lately. You should have tried it, God knows you needed it.

Turns out I haven’t been thinking right. My therapist pointed out that I was putting words in your mouth, predicting what you were going to do, and catastrophizing. She said that I’m not giving you a fair chance.

I can’t let my anger control me so I’m going to try and write this one without it.

I’m scared that you never loved me. I know you showed your love in your own way but you never once told me you did. You never spoke the words ‘I love you’ and that really hurt me. It still does. I think all I wanted was for my dad to love me the way I loved him.

I realized that I worshiped you a bit too. I felt like you were perfect and could do no wrong and would always be there to save the day. It’s scary to admit that you aren’t. It’s impossible for you to be perfect and I know that now. There was no way for you to save me that day but it still hurts how you didn’t. It hurt having my image of you broken when I needed you the most.

I shouldn’t have said that you only hurt me. I think I would died a lot sooner on the streets than I did with you. I felt safe and started to heal. Shit just happened and I got tricked into trusting someone I shouldn’t have. It wasn’t your fault that I ended up in front of Joker and it wasn’t your fault that he killed me. Me and Sheila and Joker hold the blame. I should have told you where I was going. I should have trusted you when you told me to stay home. I’m sorry that I didn’t.

I am hurt, very hurt, that you still play your game with Joker. I know no one can win but I can’t feel safe as long as he’s alive. I shouldn’t expect you to choose between me and him but it hurts when you choose him.

I can see now that you didn’t replace me with Tim Drake or any of the others. At least, I don’t know for sure that you did. I know all of them had their issues and needed help. I think I was just hurt that you replaced me so quickly. I know I shouldn’t think that way but I feel it and it stings.

It’s hard because now I’ve done things that you don’t agree with, things that have hurt you and your new kids. I don’t feel like you will ever be able to love me again if you ever did in the first place. I’m not going to say you won’t because it’s not my decision if you do but I don’t think I even love myself. I don’t think I could love anyone who's done the things I have. I don’t feel that even someone who loves as free as Dick could love me.

Give Dickie my love. That kid never knew when to take time for himself. He had oldest daughter syndrome to the max and I bet it’s worse with all the new little shits running around. He needed, and still does, to be told he is loved and appreciated. Even more, he needs it from you.

Maybe love you
J

Dear Replacement Tim,

I’m sorry for trying to kill you. I thought that Bruce had replaced you with me and I was really hurt by the thought. It doesn’t excuse what I did at all. You deserve to feel safe and it’s wrong of me to have compromised that.

My story is my reason but it does not excuse my actions. I hope that one day you can feel safe again but I do not expect your forgiveness. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to think of you, much less be around you, without getting angry so I won’t wait around for you to accept my apology.

Sorry kid
J

Peter set down the most recent letter with a heavy look in his eyes. With a sigh, he moved closer to Jason and leaned into him. Jason's smell of books, spices, and blood was comforting and warm. “You have grown a lot through these. It’s obvious how much you love your brothers, even the new ones. You know you are wrong about some things, though.”

“Yeah?” Jason rested his head on top of the kids, staring at the wall blankly. It was hard letting Peter read those, harder than he thought.

“You aren’t a bad person. Good people can do bad things but it doesn’t make them a bad person. You lashed out in pain and fear with no one there to support you. I know about wanting to die too. It’s so easy to think about not having to face these problems anymore but it’s also hard to remember about the good too. The thought of death is the human mind's solution to problems that seem too difficult to solve. But you can’t make cookies for your dumbass neighbor if you're fully dead. You can’t rescue him from himself and take him to fight club. Who knows, if you had stayed dead maybe I wouldn’t have survived.”

He wrapped an arm around his kid and squeezed. “Have I told you how amazing you are? You better not leave me all alone in the world of the living kid.”

“I won’t, Mr. Jason. Don’t worry, I plan to keep my annoying ass around for a long long time.”

“Do I need to start a swear jar? Children shouldn’t cuss.”

“Do you want to have to stop cussing? Because I’ll stop if you stop.”

He hummed for a moment. “You win this one, squirt.”

“You know, it’s funny. I know a Bruce and a Tim. They are my bosses actually.”

“Oh really? I never would have guessed.”

“Wait a diddly-dang minute. Do you know my bosses? When did you mean the Waynes? How did you know they were safe? How did you know I worked for them?”

“Love you, kid.”

“Hmph. Love you too, Oreo. Don’t think you’ll be able to weasel your way out of my questions. I shall get the answers even if every single weapon in this house must end up stuck to the ceiling.”

“Please don’t.”

Peter snuggled into Jason's side for a few more minutes until his phone alarm rudely interrupted them. “Shit. I have work.”

“Work? I thought you worked during the week at Wayne Tech Enterprises?” Jason asked, confused.

Peter froze. “Uhh. Nowhere?”

“Aww, are you scared I’ll embarrass you at work or somethin?”

Peter scoffed. “Yes. I know you will.”

“If you tell me where I promise that I won’t.”

Peter glared at him for a minute before giving in. “Drag Alley.”

“Oooh. Server or queen?”

“Queen. I’m Robinette.”

Jason snorted loudly at Peters's admittance. “Alright kid, I won’t bother you at work.”

Silence reigned for a moment. “You are going to as Red Hood, aren’t you?”

“Yep. Expect all of the club to be there.”

“Fudge cakes.”

Chapter Text

Peter’s battery finally died. It had lasted three weeks with constant high-level drainage and no charging. All that remained was confirming that the mass-produced version held up just as well as the original.

With the testing mostly done, Peter had to start on the dreaded paperwork. He may be able to talk about his inventions for hours but writing formal, objective reports was frustrating and tiring. He pulled out the papers and started to fill them out.

Tim’s coffee scent greeted Peter's nose long before he was close. The nearly silent footsteps of Damian Wayne joined Tim’s shuffling ones as they approached Peter's desk.

“Hey, Peter! How’s the battery project going?”

He smiled at the two, giving Damian a wave. “Hey, Tim! Hey, Mr. Wayne. That project is going great. Version one of the battery has finally completed the first round of testing. It lasted three weeks to the day. Do you know when the first samples of the mass produced version are going to be ready?”

Tim grinned and pulled something out from behind his back. “Your plans were so awesome that the first sample is almost identical to your original. Wanna do the honors of hooking this guy up for testing?”

With a cheer, Peter took the battery and set it on his desk. He’d hook it up later.

“So how are you both doing? I haven’t seen you aren’t much, Mr. Wayne.”

Damian puffed his chest out. “I have been focused on schooling while Drake has been recovering.”

Peter frowned. “Wayne Sr. mentioned that. Are you okay, Tim?”

“You can call him Bruce, ya know. Damian doesn’t need the ego boost either,” Tim tried to unsubtly change the topic.

“Nope. If Dr. Wayne wants me to call him his first name, he can ask me. I respect Mr. Wayne too much to even consider that. Unless it matters to you!”

Damian smirked at Peter's reply while Tim looked a way that would be described as flabbergasted. “Pete, my guy, you aren’t going to be fired if you aren’t respectful. You can lighten up. None of us bite here.”

“Mr. Wayne gives me a distinct vibe that he would stab me if I was disrespectful. Either way, it took my dad months to get me to call him Tony instead of Mr. Stark. Even now, my roommate only got me to call me his first name because he didn’t tell me his last name. I should probably go back to Mr. now that I know it…” Peter hummed on thought. Jason would probably relax a lot while trying to get Peter to call him his first name again. Unless it hurt his feelings. If it did, then he would stick with Jason.

Damian frowned, crossing his arms. “You did not know your roommate's family name?”

“Uh, nope. It doesn’t really matter in the end. He’s nice, cooks me dinner, pretty much only asks me to clean up after meals and to not let strangers into the apartment. I even got my own bed which was awesome because I’m pretty sure the couch I was using had bed bugs.” Would the bed bugs biting him make mutant bed bugs? Or maybe they all disappeared because his blood killed them. It had been a while since he’d gotten a bite.

Damian’s huff broke him out of his musings. “Father funds multiple charities that offer pest cleansing. If you wish for aid, I can have the information emailed to you.”

Peter shook his head with a smile. “I’m actually allergic to most pest repellents. While most methods of removing bugs are safe for people after a few days, I can have reactions for weeks.”

“Really? Do you know what exactly you are allergic to in it? How exactly did you find out that you were allergic? Are you allergic to bug killers and repellents or just one? Are there any you aren’t allergic to?”

Peter snorted at the eager questions but frowned when his hair started to rise. With a scan of the room, Peter stood up and gestured for Damian and Tim to follow. He made his way to Liam’s desk and spoke softly, “Code T. West side seems to be the safest.”

Liam nodded seriously and stood up, “Hey everyone! I’m going to stop at the donut shop on my break so come write your order on the papers over here!”

When Liam had found out about Peter's spidey-sense after a mugging, he had demanded the pair create codes in case of a situation like this. Code T stood for Code Tingle which meant something was coming. As for how he knew the west side of the floor seemed to be safest, Matt had trained him on how to read his spidey-sense better so he was able to gauge where it flared and where it didn’t.

The pair following Peter gave each other an odd look. Peter stiffened as screams broke out from the floors below. Tim finally spoke up, “What’s going on? What’s a Code T?”

“I can explain it another time but for now, we need to get to where Liam has everyone gathering. What experience do you guys have in emergency situations?”

Damian scowled, planting his feet in the middle of the room. “I will not be led into a trap. Tell us what you are planning, now.”

Peter frowned. “My plan is to get everyone out of here alive. Fudge. Look, I have a sense that lets me know when danger is coming and oh boy, is it something big this time. Please just listen. You can interrogate me after.” He sped through his speech as he stared at the main stairwell doors. He could hear quite a few people in there and smelt something like rancid cough syrup.

“Shit. Tim, WE does rogue toxin analysis, right? Which one smells like rancid cough syrup?”

Tim paled. “Damian, the gas masks are in the emergency cabinet. I’ll send out an alert that Scarecrow is gassing the building. Peter, can you make sure the emergency stairwell is clear and start evacuating people once they have masks on?”

Peter nodded and thanked whatever high power above placed the stairwell on the west side. Even more, that Mr. Wayne built a second stairwell in addition to the main one and the elevators.

Throwing open the door, he focused on any sounds. The stairwell was emptier than a Halloween pop-up store in February. Damian returned with the masks and started handing them to each person with instructions to not take them off until they had been cleared by medical personnel.

Peter sent Liam down first knowing that he had some fighting experience in case the building was surrounded. If it wasn’t for the way his spidey-sense was blaring as loud as possible, Peter would have gone.

Only a few people remained when the stairwell door opened at the same time as the elevators, room filling with purple gas. Peter went to grab a mask from Damian and cursed internally when he noticed that there wasn’t even enough to mask the remaining people.

“Hello, techies! You smart cookies get to test my newest toxin. Aren’t you excited?” He was hard to see in the fog of gas but Peter could tell he was making dramatic motions with his arms.

With another scan of the room, Peter mumbled a curse. One of the interns was asleep at his desk, not even twitching at the chaos. Tim and Damian must have noticed as well because they pushed the last civilian towards the door and sprinted to the intern, moving in sync.

Unfortunately, their luck ran out and the fog cleared just enough for Scarecrow to see the two boys. “Oh, dearie me! It seems only a few of my lab rats remain. I’m afraid I can’t let you go.”

Shit. Tim had the intern in a fireman’s carry, starting to job back to the door. What had that kid taken to sleep through this? Damian, on the other hand, seemed to want to provide cover for his retreating brother. He had a knife resting in one hand and a katana in the other. Where he got the katana was a mystery.

Scarecrow's goons aimed their guns at Tim and Damian, waiting for their bosses' order to fire. Peter groaned but sprinted across the room, moving a little faster than humanly possible. Once at Damian, he threw the kid over his shoulder and paused briefly to look at Scarecrow. “Sorry, big guy. I ain’t a bird so you don’t scare me.”

If Scarecrow had a face, he would have paled. Instead, he stepped back in fear and shook his head. His goons gave him a look so he pointed at Peter and screamed, “It’s the demon child! The one I was telling you about! Everybody retreat!”

Peter furrowed his brow in confusion while the goons seemed more wary of him. A few muttered about the demon child that scared the unscareable Scarecrow. He snorted when he remembered what had happened.

Back when he was still trying to find somewhere to squat, he found another warehouse operated by a rogue. When he had heard them discuss what they were making, he sabotaged the toxin. Scarecrow had seen him before he made it out so Peter had gone full exorcist on him. After Peter had crawled on the ceiling, rotating his head 180 degrees, and clicking, Scarecrow freaked and ran off.

Damian threw a smoke bomb on the floor and his knife at the rogue. The knife thudded loudly and Scarecrow screamed. The footsteps of the goons scattered while Peter sprinted to the emergency exit. He slammed the door closed behind him and ran down the stairs two at a time. Damian was tense on his shoulder but thankfully not stabbing him with the katana.

Lights and sirens greeted him outside. He jogged to the nearest triage tent before setting Damian on his feet. “Sorry, Mr. Wayne. I had to get you out of there but I know how much it sucks to be carried against your will.”

Damian straightened his suit and frowned. “While I am displeased, your actions are understandable. I ask that you refrain from doing that in the future, however.”

Tim and Bruce practically appeared into existence from around the tent. Tim exclaimed, “Whoa, Dami! That’s the nicest I’ve seen you treat someone other than Alfred! You good, Pete? Any stab wounds?”

“I’m fine. Didn’t get exposed to any of the gas and am wound-free.” Well, he could feel his heart racing more than it normally would but he knew from experience that the gas doesn’t affect him as severely as others.

Damian frowned at the lie but Tim played along and didn’t say anything. Bruce, on the other hand, was not so merciful. “Well, how about we get you two checked out so Damian can remove his mask.”

Peter took a step back. “I’m fine. I’ve got some of the old antidotes at home from the last attack. In fact, shouldn't you be calling the Bats to come take care of Scarecrow?”

He took another few steps back before waving goodbye and running. Normally he’d be only mildly anxious about hospitals but the mild effects of the fear toxin, it a bit more severe. Either way, all he wanted was to be home so he could wash the smell of the toxin off his skin.

No one followed him home so he took a more direct in-direct route and let himself inside. Jason wasn’t home but he did leave a note letting Peter know there was soup in the fridge.

He was able to breathe a sigh of relief when he could no longer smell the rancid cough syrup and ate some soup. He’d need to drink a lot of water to clear out his system especially since he didn’t have any more of the anti-toxins. He’d given his to a mom with her three young kids who lived in the building when she mentioned how she couldn’t afford to get any. The Wayne charities gave them away for free during attacks but sold them for cheap during the quiet times in between.

Stretching out on the couch after drinking a few glasses of water, Peter let his eyes drift closed. Sleep pulled him under but the usual dark nightmares were twisted by the venom.

Tony stared down Peter on a rooftop, face disappointed. “You failed me. You failed everyone. They all died because you had to play in the big leagues. Give me the suit, you don’t deserve to be Spider-Man and you don’t deserve to be my son.”

He turned his head to see Ben frowning down at him. “You don’t deserve your powers. You aren’t being responsible, Peter. You have these powers and you aren’t using them for good. You are hurting people with them, killing them.”

“Killing me,” May accused from where stood. “You kill everyone around you. How could you Peter? I thought you loved me.”

“Kid. I said I loved you but I was wrong. I didn’t know what you had done. I didn’t know that you would kill me,” Jason cried, blood dripping off of him.

“Monster.”
“Murderer.”
“Menace.”
“Broken.”
“Unlovable.”

“Alone.”

Peter woke with tears on his face when his alarm beeped. He hated those dreams but it was better than the dream with Tony as the Vulture or another one of his villains.

Forcing himself up, Peter grabbed his bag and started towards Drag Alley. Stupid villains and their desire to attack on the most inconvenient day possible.

No matter the day, Drag Alley was busy with Queens, Kings, and watchers. Queens and Kings greeted him as he stuffed his bag in the lockers and slipped into his costume. He did his makeup in the mirror while the Harley and Ivy pair shared a funny story about their kids. It was cute how they were married and doing a couple act.

When it came time to go on stage, Peter masked his tiredness with a blinding smile and did a few flips onto the stage. His show continued on the same but a few minutes in, the door slammed open.

Red Hood, Arsenal, Bizzaro, Artemis, Harley Quinn, Ivy, and Bane all walked in. The room went quiet until they broke out in cheers for Harley and Ivy. The pair was well-loved but thankfully the crowd stopped at cheers and turned their attention to Peter when he whistled.

The fight club and friends cheered loud at every trick Peter did and laughed obnoxiously when he told a joke. It was annoying. So Peter decided to get payback.

“Now folks, can I have a volunteer for this next trick? Let’s see… how about the old man over there,” he teased while pointing at Red Hood. Hood cheered and vaulted up onto the stage.

“Alright now, Mr. Hood. Put this lovely apple on your head and stand right there. Yep, perfect. Now close your eyes and stay very, very still.” Of course, Peter couldn’t see if Red Hood had his eyes closed but it didn’t matter in the end.

He pulled out a real Batarang and showed it to the crowd, enticing out ‘oohs’ and ‘awws.’ He reminded Jason to stay still. With a dramatic warm-up, he sent the batarang flying at the apple. Jason’s flinch was satisfying but Peter’s aim was true and the apple was sliced cleanly in half.

The pair on stage bowed as the crowd cheered. Jason was happily thanking the crowd, clearly not phased. He did a backflip off the stage, basking in the crowd's roar.

Peter huffed but finished up his show. After changing back, he found the fight club waiting outside the buildings.

“So Robinette, huh?” Jason smirked.

Peter flipped him the bird while the group broke out in laughter.

“That was terrible. Bats should see you,” Bizzaro cheered with a smile. (Translation: “That was amazing. Bats should not see you.”)

Artemis and Arsenal gave him a pat before heading their own ways, Bizzaro flying off into the sunset.

Red Hood threw an arm around Peter's shoulder. “You gotta stay away from Bats. He would make you into a Robin before you could blink.”

“Nope. I’m done with all that vigilante stuff. Bats couldn’t get me to be a Robin for anything.”

With a snort, Jason ruffled Peter's hair.

“Hey, Red? Revenge is going to taste so sweet.”

Chapter Text

Peter grinned as he opened the door to Cass’ smiling face. “Welcome, welcome. Happy to have you joining girls' night, Cass!”

He opened the door wider and kept an eye on Cass as Harley and Ivy were revealed. The couple were snuggling on the couch, quietly arguing about whether Ivy would eat popcorn since it’s exploded corn.

Cass took the reformed rogues in stride and moved into the room. With a wave at the other girls, she found a seat in Jason’s armchair as it had its back to the wall and had every entrance in view.

Harley perked up at the new friend but Ivy kept her legs on the woman’s lap so she couldn’t bombard her. “Hi there! I’m Harley, Harley Quinn. And who might you be, cutie?”

Cass blinked. At her helpless expression, Peter laughed and answered, “This is Cass! I met her at a coffee shop the other night. She might be quiet but she sure is funny.
“Anyway, as a reminder, you can tap out at any time. Two taps or fingers is yellow zone so go slow or change the topic. Three is red so change the topic and stop touching. Four is out. Basically pretend who called it doesn’t exist until they choose to join back in. No touch, no talk, no looking-”

“And one is a thumbs up for all good, obviously,” Ivy added with a soft smile.

“We do pretty regular check-ins, Cass, so just communicate however you feel comfortable. We all have our triggers and girls' night is for everyone so there’s no shame in any of us tapping out.”

Ivy smirked but Harley laughed, “No shame except for when Peter called a 4 because a spider appeared in Charlotte's Web.”

“Hey! I didn’t know that movie had spiders in it! It looked cute,” Peter pouted, glaring with no heat in the look.

“It was cute, you dork,” Ivy teased.

He rolled his eyes with a grin and turned to Cass. “So tonight we’ve got hair and makeup stuff. I think we are watching Legally Blonde tonight unless anyone really really wants to watch Mean Girls.”

At Cass’ thumbs up, Peter handed her some popcorn and sat down in front of Harley. The woman immediately took the cue and pulled a spray bottle, comb, and rubber bands out of nowhere to start styling his hair into what absurd look she chose.

Legally Blonde started playing while Ivy slid down onto the floor to start putting makeup on Peter's face. Harley typically did it better but Ivy’s skill was nothing to scoff at. It was a little hard to watch the movie when eyeliner was being carefully drawn on his face but Cass’ grin made it better.

Once the couple finished doting on Peter, he scooted over and patted the ground next to him. “Can I try doing your hair? I promise you can tap out at any point. No is an acceptable answer too.”

Hesitation flashed in her eyes before she tensed and slowly sat down by Peter. “Awesome. I think I’ll do some French braids. I’m going to start on the left, is that okay?”

She gave a thumbs up and flashed it to a 2 for a moment. He moved slowly, narrating his actions with a continuous stream of quiet chatter. Harley and Ivy grinned from where they sat but they didn’t interfere. Harley was doing Ivy's makeup but they were both waiting for Peter to do their hair.

Cass was tense as gently braided her hair but she relaxed as he expertly untangled the knots and guided the hair into braids. He managed to avoid any tugging or pulling and kept the braid light. Before he moved on to the second one, he tapped Cass’ leg and offered a thumbs up. At her returning thumbs up, he moved to the second side and finished a little faster than before.

The second he snapped the band into the place, Harley yelled, “My turn! Get your ass over here, Petey.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted as he walked over. Harley always wore her hair in pigtails so he liked to try different styles on her. His favorite was braids near the scalp with the rest of the hair in loose ponytails.

A knock on the window interrupted his braiding and he frowned when he saw Red Hood slipping in. “Hey, kid. Brought you dinner- oh? Is it girls' night? I thought that was tomorrow.”

The vigilante gazed around the room before landing on Cass. His body tensed and he practically snarled, “What is a Bat doing in this apartment? I thought you said you weren’t followed.”

Peter shot up and placed himself between the angry man and the girls. “Hey, cool your jets. Cass is fine. I can tell, remember?”

Hood let out an angry exhale before taking his hand off his weapon. “Fine.” He leaned around Peter to glare at Cass. “You snitch to the big bat about this place and I will find you and murder you. Assassin training won’t stop me, Cassandra Cain.”

“That will never not be creepy.” Peter rolled his eyes. He perked up quickly though. “Hey, Red? Remember when you went and ambushed me at work? I think it’s time for revenge.”

Jason took a step back and turned to run out the window. “Ivy, if you’d do the honors. I think our friend here needs to take some weight off his feet.”

With a grin, Ivy’s vines swaddled Jason and dragged him over to the pair. “Hmm. Hey, Harl, didn’t you want to practice your makeup more? I think his helmet could do with a makeover.”

Harley grinned and grabbed her supplies. Peter smirked before sprinting to his room to grab an old wig. It was a cheap blonde wig that he had used to practice styling before his nice one. “Do you want to do his hair, Ive? Or would you rather do his nails?”

Ivy hummed in thought before picking up the nail polish. “I think some red nail polish will look stellar on Mr. Hood. Don’t you agree, honey?”

Both Peter and Harley nodded their agreement before Peter snagged Cass’ hand and pulled her over to the wig. “No better time to teach you how to braid! I trust that you won’t pull his helmet off or hurt him or anything. Please don’t get me into any trouble.”

The girl seemed scared but Peter started showing her how to brush out hair with minimal tugging. It didn’t take long before she was grinning, her brush repeatedly scratching on the helmet.

Jason groaned and tried to flip Peter off but Ivy smacked his hand until he relaxed it. “Fuck you, kid. I’m never going to get this makeup off the hood.”

“Nope. Especially since Harley's stuff needs a special formula to come off. I was stuck wearing Dark Ruby lipstick for over a week until she gave up the recipe.”

The trapped man groaned again. “I trusted you, kid! I let you read my shit and touch my weapons but nooo, you go and let me get all dolled up.”

Peter smirked. “You could always join me at Drag Alley. I think Red Hood would make quite the Queen. Plus, it’s only fitting since you embarrassed me at work and interrupted girls' night.”

“If I agree to do one show at Drag Alley, will you let go?” He pleaded.

Peter hummed in thought. “If you let Ivy finish your nails and apologize for scaring Cass. Otherwise, I think maybe we will move on to glitter. What do you think, girls? Would the suit look better with some pink glitter?”

All three nodded but Jason cried out. “No! Please, I’ll do anything!”

“Fine. Apologize to Cass and then Ivy will release you. But you have to stay still so she can finish your nails.”

The helmet tilted slightly towards Cass. “Sorry for being a dick. Me and the big bat have beef but it isn’t fair for me to keep dragging you kids into it. Please accept my apology. I think my legs are going to fall off. They’ve been asleep for fucking ages now. Please.”

Cass pretended to think before nodding with a giggle. The vines released their grip and the crime lord collapsed onto the ground. His hands crept down to rub his legs while he cursed the pain.

“So you brought me food, right? Because I’m starving!”

“Didn’t I leave you food in the fridge to eat?”

Peter shrugged. “I ate that already. My uhh- medical condition makes it so I have to eat more than average.”

The helmet turned to face him and Peter snorted at the sight. Two anime eyes had been drawn on the white eyes of the suit, complemented by purple eyeshadow and dramatic eyeliner. Bright purple lips smiled at Peter while the drawn-on nose had a cute little piercing. Harley had done an excellent job of somehow giving the helmet sharp cheekbones and dramatic shadows and highlights. It was quite the look.

“Peter. Fucking. Parker. Stark. I have been feeding you like a growing teen but now you tell me you actually need more?”

He frowned at the beautiful face looking at him. “Sorry? I know it’s expensive to feed me so I’ve just been supplementing with snacks. Do you need to start paying for food? Because I will!”

“Fucking no, you dumbass! I would have been feeding you more if I knew you needed it. No wonder you haven’t been gaining any weight!”

“… Have you been tracking my weight? How are you even weighing me?”

The frustrated man froze. “Uhh… I may have gotten Arsenal to put a scale in your bed…”

“Ooh, that’s cool! How did he do that? Does he have a way to tell if I added pillows or blankets or is it just assumed that the value will be a little off?”

The girls all snorted at the pair when Jason slumped in relief. Cass waved to get Peter's attention and signed, “Is he your dad?”

Both Peter and Jason sputtered and shouted out denials. “I’m not like Bruce! No way!”

“No, no. He’s just- he’s- nope!”

“Share with the class! What’d she say, boys?” Harley asked, leaning forward. Both Jason and Peter waved her off for the moment.

The girl cocked her head before pointing at Jason. She fingerspelled, “Jason Todd?”

Peter cringed but Jason snapped into a fighting pose. “I am not him. Fuck. If you tell Bruce I will- I’ll do something!”

Cass held her hands up in surrender. “Not going to tell. Bruce can go fuck himself. He hurt you and you deserve to be in control of your relationship.”

It was like the dam holding the tension in Jason was released and he slumped down again. “Thanks, kid. It’s good to hear that. The bastard would probably send me to Arkham anyway and I can’t leave dumbass over here alone.”

“Hey, I’ve only been attacked by bad guys like three times since moving here!”

The helmet was ripped off and set aside. The white eyes of Jason’s domino mask stared eerily into Peter. “I thought you said only twice earlier.”

Peter paled. “Uhh- what? I didn’t say that.”

“Spit it out, squirt. What did you do?” Harley and Ivy’s judgemental stares joined Jason’s.

The boy groaned and buried his face into the couch. “Scarecrow attacked my work and I may have gotten a teeny bit exposed to his fear toxin. But I got everyone out safe!”

The unimpressed looks everyone gave him showed how much everyone’s safety mattered. Ivy decided to speak up, “Did you get an antidote? I’ve heard that shit sucks.”

“No? It didn’t really affect me. I was a little anxious and paranoid but other than some nightmares, I was fine.”

Jason narrowed his eyes and scanned Peter over. “When was this? Don’t tell me this was the attack on the tower. Kid, what the fuck? You could have told me not to mess with you that day! You know what? Go your fucking glitter. My suit needs some shine and I need to feel less guilty.”

Cass giggled and whispered, “Discowing.”

Everyone except Peter began howling in laughter. “What’s a Discowing? Don’t leave me in the dark here!”

Jason pulled out his phone and after a brief moment of searching, showed Peter a… showed him quite the bat suit. “Did you wear this, Jay?”

The man scoffed and shoved Peter away. “No way. This was all Nightwing. The little dick probably still thinks it’s cool.”

The only bat in the room nodded, softly giggling. ”He does. It’s been used as a punishment for losing competitions or bets but he still doesn’t think it’s bad. He has to mimic Bruce to his face if he loses now.”

Jason cackled. “I bet Bruce loves that! He never liked to admit he was brooding so having one of his kids do it to his face would be shocking.”

Peter raised his hand in question. “Should we be revealing secret identities so freely?”

Harley scoffed. “Kid, Ives and I have known Bruce was Bats since like forever. Some of the rogues do but after this guy got offed by my asshole ex and Bruce jumped off the diving board of sanity into the pool of crazy, no one dared go after his kids again. Well, except for the obvious one.”

“Dollar Tree Pennywise was your ex? Damn girl, I wanna kill the guy even more now!” Peter only half-joked. He doesn’t agree with killing but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t done it. Stark had taken him to do some medical assistance in a war zone and armed men stormed the building. They had tied Peter and Tony up but when they knocked Tony out and threatened to kill him, Peter snapped his bonds and grabbed one of their guns. He had been sick for months after that but Deadpool and Dare Devil helped him come to a shaky understanding that they wouldn’t have gotten out of there if he hadn’t killed them.

Sure, killing still sat wrong with him but he now agreed that certain people need to die. There was a cycle of violence and very rarely that cycle had to be ended with death. He wasn’t one to play judge, jury, and executioner but the Joker? He failed to show up at court and instead went and tortured the judge. He was a special case that Peter could and would deal with if the clown ended up in his lap. Or the same room.

Harley cackled at the admission. “Petey, you are already my favorite but if you took care of that asshat? I’d divorce Ivy and marry you.”

“Sorry, Harls, I’m afraid I don’t swing that way. But you could become my eternal servant!” Peter grinned innocently at the group.

Jason stood suddenly. “That’s a terrifying thought that I never want to think again. Food? Food. I’ll get the food. You guys change the topic because any more people under the kids' thumb is too many.”

The group separated for a few minutes, Ivy running to the bathroom while Harley went to pull more sodas out of the fridge. By the time the food was reheated, everyone had settled back into the couch to watch the rest of Legally Blonde.

Cass tapped Jason’s shoulder from across the couch. ”Bruce had changed. He broke when you died and the Bruce that we rebuilt isn’t the same. He’s been good to us. More open. He misses you still.”

”Not going back, Cass. I can’t. I tried to kill them and the only one I regret hurting is Tim.”

The girl shook her head. ”Not going to force you. Just want you to have all the facts. As for the killing, Damian tried to kill them and got closer to succeeding than you did. They still love him- and you.”

Jason rolled his eyes but thanked Cass. He squeezed Peter gently and relaxed into his kids' warmth.

—

“Uhh, O? Any idea why Red Hoods suit is glittery- oh my god is that a makeup?” Tim snatched out his phone and took a picture, the stupid thing betraying him and letting out a loud ‘click.’

The crime lord whipped around to face the bat a few buildings away and pulled his guns out, letting off a few warning shots. Red Robin screeched and swung off for cover.

“All good, Red Robin? I heard gunshots.”

“O, get onto my phone and grab my most recent photo. Everyone is going to want to see this.”

Chapter Text

Now it wasn’t that Duke didn’t want to inherit Wayne Technology Enterprises with the others. He did. But he also wanted to go to college like a normal kid. Plus, he did Signal during the day between classes and it would be hard to do that if he was running a company. He wasn't weird like Tim with his ability to run on nothing. Nor was he like Damian who was so desperate to prove himself that he would run around the world for a crumb of praise. Sure, Duke craved love and praise from Bruce but he also knew how to earn it in a healthy, less stabby way.

None of that stopped him from visiting the tower, though. School was out for break so he had decided to stop by and bring Tim some coffee from the coffee shop he likes on campus. Tim was, sadly, not there and was, fortunately, asleep in the car according to his assistant (who had asked the driver to just keep driving until he woke up on his own).

Still bored, he decided to wander the tower. The legal floor was as hostile as ever. Marketing tried to get him to do a promotional video. His fleeing led him to the research and development department where all of the Tim wannabes were.

Now, he wasn’t exactly searching for the nerd Tim had a crush on but Barbara had sent his photo and he just so happened to be right there. Before he could approach, the kid went to pick up a tool and just stuck his fingers to it (???). He didn't wrap his hand around it or anything. Just touched the tips of his fingers to it and it followed.

That wasn't the only strange thing. A piece of whatever he was working on was sticking out and for all of his searching, neither pliers nor metal cutters were found. So the kid just rips it off like it was a tissue.

Duke had seen a lot of weird things in his time as Signal but a meta using his power so casually was a first. He had to talk to this kid. So he stumbled sauntered over and casually leaned on the desk. “Duuuude, are you a meta too? No one talks about how f-ing scary it can be even if we are protected by law.”

Cute Kid looked up at Duke with fearful doe eyes. “No?”

“Uh-huh. And I’m Batman.”

The kids tensed up even more. “Please don’t tell Batman.”

“I ain't a snitch! Now twenty questions power edition? Pleeeease? Pretty please? I’ll buy you dinner.”

That did the trick. Tim’s Cute Nerd blushed but agreed.

Duke pumped his fist in celebration. “Yes! Tonight at five work? That little Italian place on fifth?”

At the boy's nod, Duke sprinted off to go shower and get ready (for a date that was a whole day away), yelling out, “It's a date!”

Peter stared at the stranger that just figured out he had powers and proceeded to ask him on a date and ran off.

–

Peter was a little hesitant to show up to the date. It wasn’t that the guy made his spidey-sense go off (because he didn't) but rather that he didn’t know what to wear. Was this a date date or a date? Was he supposed to wear nice clothes or nice clothes?

He ended up calling Cass who added Steph to the call.

“Guys, please. What do I wear?”

Steph snorted. “What all do you know about tonight? Did the mystery stranger say date?”

“Yes! He said he would buy me dinner and then said ‘It's a date’ when I confirmed the time!”

Cass laughed silently through the phone while Steph hummed. “Show me your closet, nerd.”

Peter showed his lacking closet to the girls, glad there weren't mold stains like his dresser used to have. He hadn’t been able to afford new clothes for a while and just hadn’t had a chance to buy some since moving in with Jason (who frustratingly refused to accept any money for food or rent).

Steph groaned when she saw his closet. “Okay, this can’t stand. You, me, and Cass are going shopping this weekend, no ifs, ands, or buts. Capishe?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Alright, pull out that red shirt aaaand… the green one. No, not that green one. Ok… Let me see your pants.” After a moment of silence, Steph declared, “The red shirt and the dark pants. It’ll be nice enough that you can fit in if Mystery Man dresses nice but it won’t stand out much if he doesn’t.”

Peter sagged in relief. “Thanks, Steph. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Good luck! Remember to use a cond-“ Peter hung up on Steph before she could finish. Now dressed and ready, he grabbed his stuff, including his fake wallet and real card (hidden in his shoe), and sprinted out the door.

The Italian diner was a small hole-in-the-wall restaurant that had the classic plaid tablecloths. Duke was waiting outside with a grin. He was dressed somewhat nicely but it looked more like a preppy kid who tried to dress casually.

“Come on, Peter! They’ve got us a table already and everything.”

He followed hesitantly behind the boy. “So- uhh. You look nice?”

“Hah, yeah right. One of my brothers found out I was going on a date and he stole all my clothes except this outfit because, and I quote, ‘I would wear something stupid instead of something nice.’”

That made Peter laugh. “He sounds pleasant. I called my friend and she called her… something? And she chose my outfit. I’m also going shopping with her now? Apparently, my clothes are too nerdy.”

They got settled at a cute table, Peter sticking with water and Duke ordering a Sprite.

“So, how are you this lovely evening?” The older boy asked, leaning forward on his arms.

The question made him pause and examine him. The boy in front of him was normal looking on the surface but the scars littering almost any exposed skin told a different story. Makeup somewhat covered a few bruises on his face while his knuckles were left uncovered. A fighter? He did make Peter’s spidey-sense hum slightly but not to the extent of being suspicious. The most interesting thing was his smell. Just like Signal, he smelled like damp shadows and sunlight. Of course. There was no way Peter could just exist without learning the identities of vigilantes and rogues on a regular basis.

“Fine, other than me not knowing your name.”

With a startle, he laughed. “The names Duke! Duke Thomas Wayne at your service.”

“Peter Parker Stark. Nice to meet you, Duke.”

Duke grinned at Peter and opened his mouth to ask something but was interrupted by the waiter returning with their drinks. “What can I get you gentleman tonight?”

“Garlic bread and Alfredo please.”

“Spaghetti for me,” Peter answered, waiting until Duke had ordered.

The waiter nodded and headed back to the kitchen.

“So what’s a meta doing in Gotham?”

He frowned at the question. “Aren’t you a meta too?”

Duke snorted. “Yeah, but I ain’t stupid enough to use my powers in broad daylight like that.”

Peter’s lips twitched. The daylight vigilante said he didn’t use his powers during the day. “Sure, sure. I got comfortable using my powers casually for a while and it’s been a change since I moved to Gotham.”

“Why Gotham?” Duke's eyebrows furrowed. “This place sucks.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice. It was the type of situation where I woke up without food, money, a phone, anything. I had no way of getting home so I just figured out how to survive here.” He shrugged, sipping on his water. “If you hate Gotham so much, why stay?”

The older boy sighed. “I grew up here and while I’m 19 now, my adoptive family still lives here. I’m not going to leave them.”

“That’s right! You said you were a Wayne. So you’re Tim’s brother?”

Duke smirked. “Yeah, why are you asking? Have a little crush?”

Peter choked on his water a little. “What? Nope! I’m uhh- just worried. Is everything okay at home?”

Duke's head titled. “Why do you ask? Most of us don’t even live at home anymore.”

“I hope this doesn't come off as rude but Tim and Damian were covered in scars and bruises-“ Shit. Don’t let them be vigilantes. Please don’t let them be the Bats. “And Damian mentioned a lesson Dr. Wayne taught Tim in a very concerning way.”

He snorted into his Sprite. “Nah. Bruce's lessons are long and boring and he’s so monotonous. As for the bruises, we all enjoy martial arts. Some of us take it too far, hence the scars and the occasional broken bone. Sucks but we all enjoy it. I think it was Bruce’s way of surviving in a house for five-ish growing boys. We all get our anger out in a structured way and not on the manor or him.”

“Oh. That’s a relief.” While he wants to believe Duke, it is unlikely that all of the kids are vigilantes. Not to mention, broken bones weren’t exactly a common martial arts injury. Bruce was still suspect number one for his kid's injuries. Plus, he would feel terrible if he accepted Duke’s story and it was false. If those kids got hurt because he didn’t do something, that was on him.

The waiter returned to alleviate the awkwardness and give them their dinner. Duke had no problem digging into the meal, only speaking once Peter started. “So. I’ll start the powers talk since it can be somewhat uncomfortable. I can control lights and shadows.”

“Really? That’s so cool! Can you make people invisible or create mirages? Can Batman do that too? I’ve heard he just appears!”

The face Duke made was well worth the previous awkwardness. “Uhh, I don’t think he can.”

“Well- uhh, I have sticky hands? Actually, I'm sticky everywhere.”

“A power that keeps from dropping things randomly? I want it.”

Peter snorted. “See you’d think so! What else can you do?”

“Oh, I can see a few seconds into the past and future.”

His eyes grew wide at the power. “That’s terrifying. It’d be useful if you were a detective but still terrifying.”

“It would be, wouldn’t it?” Duke's face was again bringing Peter close to laughter. “Do you have other powers?”

“Too many, man. But the next biggest is either super strength or quick healing.”

Taking a bite of Alfredo, Duke frowned. “That'd be useful but it’s also quite scary. One of my foster fathers was a dick and I wouldn’t have gotten out if I didn’t have proof.”

“Yikes. I just used it to hide that I was being bullied,” Peter joked, trying to keep the mood light.

The other boy snorted. “Fucking bullies.”

“Fucking bullies.”

Duke looked curiously at Peter. “If you had the strength to fight back, why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t fight back because of my strength. I was not going to risk killing someone when I am more than strong enough to take what they are doing.”

Under his breath, Duke whispered, “Don’t let Bruce find this kid.”

“I also have enhanced senses which means super hearing.”

Duke blushed as red as Peter’s spaghetti.

“Besides, he already found me. Don’t worry, I told him ‘screw you and your addiction.’”

The tension broke at that and both boys hunched over laughing.

“So, is there a reason Red Robin is staring at us from across the street? Other than you being Signal, of course.”

(I look at him and he looks at me.)

“Why do you say that? I’m not a bat. That’s ridiculous.”

It was Peter's turn to snort. “I just told you I had enhanced senses. You and Signal smell the exact same.”

The vigilante's eyes narrowed. “So you’re like a bloodhound. Can you smell people's trails too?”

“…”

“…”

“A little. Only if they smell strongly.” Peter frowned a little in thought. “You aren’t going to tell Batman about me, right? If he starts investigating me…”

Duke snapped out of his thoughts and immediately put his hands up in surrender. “Nope. He’s notoriously bad at handling people in a situation like yours.” Duke was sure Peter was a victim of human trafficking and Bruce often scared anyone flighty or scared off just by being in the vicinity. This would be much better handled by Duke, Dick, or even Tim. Hell, Damian was better at not scaring off survivors than Bruce.

“Thanks? Should we do anything about the Bird outside?”

“Red Robin? Nah. He’s just jealous. He has a crush and seeing his coolest brother going on a date with someone that’s his type must be hard on him.”

Peter's eyes narrowed before a feral grin stretched across his face. “Should we mess with him?”

“What do you have in mind?” Duke returned the grin.

—

Tim was concerned about his baby brother Duke going on a date without telling him. He usually would research everyone’s dates beforehand just to make sure they weren’t creeps. So when his brother didn’t ask but definitely was going on a date, Tim did the only thing he could.

He hid all of his clothes and left a pair of nice, casual clothes that had multiple trackers in them.

So it wasn’t hard to follow his brother to a cute little diner and settle in for a stakeout.

Tim was now mad. His baby brother (Duke may be older but he’s still the baby) was going on a date with Peter. Duke wouldn’t be so petty to try and mess with their relationship. (Right?)

So he had sat on the rooftop across from the diner and watched as they laughed and got along. There were a few moments of tension but it was always forgotten. Tim wasn’t jealous. Not at all.

It got extra concerning when the pair walked out of the restaurant with matching grins and holding hands. Holy shit. Duke just pulled a move worthy of all his devices exploding in addition to Tim’s most terrible pranks. (Nair in the conditioner. Itch powder in underwear and on sheets. Lotion instead of toothpaste. Rocks hidden in the soles of the shoe so you can feel them but not find them.)

Finally, they hugged (Tim didn’t relax when they didn’t kiss. Not at all) and Duke headed right towards him. Shit, he was caught red-handed. Dick was going to lecture him on stalking for ages in addition to Duke's anger of him ‘breaching his privacy.’ (He was just keeping his little brother safe!)

It made Tim nervous when Duke was still grinning when he got up on the roof. Was he mad, pulling Tim’s leg, or actually happy?

“Hey, little bro! How was the view? Fulfill your stalking obsession?”

Tim leaned back on his heels. “Whaaat? No. Just- uhhh- watching someone else in the building?”

“Uh-huh. Nothing to do with your crush on a certain nerd?”

The masked vigilante's hands flapped as he waved off the comment. “Pfft. What? No. What a crazy thing to say.”

“So who were you watching then?” Duke asked with his head tilted innocently.

“Uhh. The guy in the red hat down there?” He pointed to a suspicious-looking tank of a guy hiding his face with a menu. He probably should look into that guy.

Duke twitched oddly. “And what’d he do?”

“He’s a suspect in one of my cases.” Tim patted himself on the back for his quick thinking.

“Which case? Babs was just giving me the rundown of all of your cases. I’m your backup this weekend.”

Shit. “The… the uhh-“ Duke snorted, clearly trying to hold back laughter. It was then Tim noticed the photo held low, recording him.

“Oh fuck you, Duke!”

The boy cackled. “And Babs already has it. She said that if you try to explode my tech, she would fuck with your stuff.”

“Really man? Why the hell would you do that? I thought we were brothers!”

“Hey, you were the one that went and stalked me. I’m only getting rightful payback.”

“I’m going to get you back for this.”

“Oh yeah? I think this prank war will be an easy one. Dick is still pissed from when you bleached his hair in the last one. Can’t get Steph on your side either. She wants revenge for you sending the pictures of her making funny faces while doing makeup. Oh oh, can’t forget Cass. She vowed not to be on your side again after you betrayed her. Which leaves… Damian. Good luck with that. Kid would rather stab you than team up with you.”

“I can beat all of you alone. You’ll see!”

“Uh-huh. Sure, kid. You try that.”

Tim stuck his tongue out at Duke and screamed in rage when the camera clicked loudly.

Chapter Text

Steph grinned from where she was parked in front of Peter’s house. She had been talking to Cass about where to take Peter when Dick overheard and invited himself. Thus, the man himself was driving while Steph rode shotgun and Cass waited in the back for Peter.

She was a little concerned about scaring Peter off. In all the time she had worked at that cafe, they hadn’t gotten past the small talk stage. And Steph was good at getting people to like and talk to her. Then in came Cass who just had to sit by him to be invited to girls' night. Steph was smart enough to recognize she was a bit jealous but it was also important for Cass to do things without the family there so it wasn’t too difficult to beat her jealousy back with a stick.

When Cass had gotten home from girls’ night, she had been smiley and happy. Even more, she had shown off her braids. The whole family suspected Cass had trauma relating to her hair, likely due to the neglect her ‘parents’ had shown. She had always refused to have her hair done and it was more often than not unbrushed. If one of the family touched her hair out of habit while snuggling, she would tense and move away. In her early days at the manor, she would shoot into a fighting position and maybe even land a hit on reflex.

So her showing up with her hair done and still happy meant Steph just had to spend more time with Peter. Dick made it a little harder but it wasn’t the end of the world. Although Steph had no problem ruining Dick’s life he scared Peter off. Cass needed him.

For now, they were waiting for the kid to get to their car.

“Hey, how does my new cologne smell?”

Steph snorted. “You’ve asked us that three times now, Dick. It smells fine.”

“Damian says it makes me smell like a girl.”

Cass frowned from the backseat. ”What’s wrong?”

“Yeah, D. Normally comments like that wouldn’t get to you. What’s going on?” She rested her hand on the man's arm. He was the biggest hugger in the family with her as a runner-up so she knew how much he valued any touch.

As she predicted, Dick practically draped himself over the center console to lean on Steph. “Jason's anniversary is next month. I miss him and I still don’t know how to help Bruce through it. I’ve tried being there but he leaves. I’ve tried giving him space but he doesn’t come back until I push.”

“Dickie, it's not your job to hold Bruce together. Your grief matters too. I’m really glad you told us, Big D. We will help. I think we can get everyone to the manor around that time and everything. I know we already have the schedule but I’m sure everyone can make some extra time.”

After Jason had died, Bruce had gone off the deep end. His grief never truly lessened, he only got better at hiding it and functioning despite it. All of the kids had noticed how Bruce’s stability plummeted any time he was alone in the house so the Flock Schedule was created. It made sure that Bruce was never alone in the house. All of the kids took turns staying at the manor, some coming after work or on weekends and others spending the days there.

Cass rested her hand on Dicks shoulder, adding her own comfort. “You are not alone.”

Their impromptu therapy session was interrupted by the door of the apartment slamming as Peter took a flying leap off the steps and landed it with slightly inhuman grace. The grace was quickly washed away by Peter tripping as he ran towards them, slamming into the car. He threw open the door and apologized, “Sorry, sorry. My roommate decided we needed to go over safety procedures in case I get kidnapped again. That and when I told him Steph was part of the shopping group, he freaked and I do not want to analyze that. Oh hey, someone new. I’m Peter.”

The pair in the front seats exchanged a surprised look when Cass pulled Peter into a hug and smiled. “All safe. That’s Dick.”

“Yeah, hi! I’m very concerned about the whole kidnapping thing and the Steph thing but Cass sure seems to like you. Anyway, as Cass said, I’m Dick. I’ve been hearing lots of stories about you around the manor and in the group chat.”

Cass frowned at that. “What?”

“Yeah! Tim, Duke, and Damian all met Peter and were talking about him. Did you not see the video of Tim?”

Peter perked up. “You know them? He pranked Tim too? I gave him a bunch of ideas on how to prank Red Robin.”

“Oh yeah! They’re our brothers. I’d show you the video but Tim made a virus that attacks our phones whenever we watch it or send it to anyone. Timmy’s easily embarrassed and I think he would actually kill us if we showed you anyway.” Dick was still grinning as he turned to face forward and put the car into drive.

Peter opened his mouth to reply but Steph interrupted him. “What did you mean about your roommate not liking me? Is he someone I know?”

“Uhh maybe? I think it’s the same reason he didn’t like Cass at first but I really don’t want to think about that. Too many dots.” He rubbed the back of his neck. With a silent laugh, Cass patted his head.

“Weird. What did you say his name was again?”

Oops. “I didn’t.”

“Why? Does he have something to hide?”

That pulled a frown onto Peter's face.

“Stop. It’s okay,” Cass demanded, sending Steph a glare. Neither of the two sitting in the front seat wanted to upset Cass so the conversation died off.

The silence weighed down the mood in the car. “Sooo, do you like my cologne?”

The girls in the car threw their hands up. “Not again, Dick! Sorry, Peter, he’s feeling self-conscious because it’s the anniversary of our brother's death soon. You don’t have to smell him or anything.”

A long stream of curses ran through Peter's mind. These were Jason’s siblings, they missed him, and Peter lived with him. And Cass knew Jason and Peter lived together. Did they know Jason was even in Gotham?

Although, Peter did have to admit that Dick’s cologne went nicely with his natural sugary sweet smell. “You smell nice! Is that… vanilla, honey, and… cotton candy?”

The tension broke as Dick and Steph exchanged a confused look, leading to the two in the backseat giggling.

“Are you a bloodhound or something? No one ever comments on the cotton candy! Steph, can you smell that?”

Steph dramatically smelled him before shaking her head. “Nope. Just smell the cologne.”

“You know, Duke said the exact same thing about my nose.”

“Did you know Duke sleeps with all the lights on because he’s scared of ghosts?” Dick blurted out.

Steph and Cass groaned, the former yelling out, “I swear to god, Dick, if any of these are about us I will bleach your f-ing hair and chop up your wigs.”

“I hear you loud and clear. I have so many stories to share,” Dick cackled loudly before clearing his throat, “So Peter, has anyone told you how obsessed Tim is with his technology? No? Well, he has multiple phones charging so he doesn’t have to be ‘tied down’ by the charging cord. Bruce even buys the long ones!”

“That’s… fair?” How do you respond to that?

Dick snapped eagerly before announcing, “Duke locks up his Signal plush in a safe whenever he isn’t holding it. Oh, and Tim had a Red Hood plush but refuses to admit it.”

“I mean… I do too? But I don’t mind admitting it. Red Hood is great.”

“Ignoring that frankly outrageous statement, Tim lost a prank war, actually started by Red Hood although he doesn’t know that, anyway Tim had to dye his hair red so he did but then he cosplayed as Flash for weeks. He wore it to business meetings and everything. I’d show you a picture but the digital copies are bugged and however opens it will be the first target in the next prank war.”

Cass excitedly tapped Steph’s shoulder and squeaked a few times, grinning when the blonde made her own noise of excitement and exclaimed, “We did Duke’s makeup once! He looks amazing all decked out but he refused to wash it off for ages. Someone, I think Damian, dumped a bucket of water on him which finally got him to shower.”

“I’ve done that…”

“Peter!” Cass slapped his arm gently. “Why?”

“My aunties did an amazing job! I didn’t want to ruin it!”

“Well on the note of showering, Tim slipped in the bathroom and when we asked if he was okay, he said his clothes just fell.”

“Oh, I’ve done that too.”

“Seriously?” Cass exclaimed.

Peter blushed slightly and ducked his head. “Just because I’m a… dancer, doesn’t mean I’m not clumsy. And my clothes did fall! I was just in them.”

Cass’ facepalm was interrupted by Dick announcing, “Aaaand we are here!”

The noise of the car clicked off with a turn of the key and the four jumped out of the car. Peter thanked the heavens as he avoided faceplanting although his stumble was clearly seen if Cass’s snort was any indication.

Steph grabbed the younger two's arms and sprinted towards the building, ignoring Peter's protests.

The mall was huge! Peter had explored most of Gotham during his street days but somehow he never ended up in this mall.

His phone buzzed in his pocket as they stepped inside and he gently pulled his arm from Steph’s grasp to answer it.

”Thank Austen, you are still alive. Have they hurt you? Looked at you wrong? Did they take you somewhere unsafe?” Jason’s worried voice rattled out.

“No, mom, I’m fine. They haven’t murdered me. In fact, your paranoia is the only thing making them weird.” He paused for a moment to see if Jason was going to talk over him before continuing in an old man's voice, “Alright, Peter Jr., I think it’s time to put the phone down and go to sleep, hear me, sonny?”

A loud groan sounded through this phone. ”I should never have told you my middle name. Fuck you too, dad. Text every thirty minutes and call when you are headed home. You know, if you let me put trackers in your clothes, I wouldn’t be this worried.”

“Bullpoop. We both know you’d be coming up with elaborate ways they undressed me and brought my clothes to the mall while taking me where you are worried about.” The faces the group made almost had Peter collapsing in laughter but he bit his tongue and continued, “Seriously, I think not sleeping this week has made you go coo-coo for coco puffs. I know your ringer is louder than a rocket launching! You won’t miss my calls so stop neglecting yourself or I’m calling the you-know-who’s.”

Jason’s narrowed eyes seemed to travel the city so Peter could feel them. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh? Wanna bet? Because I’m pretty sure they’d be tying you down in bed to read the worst written stories that they could find on their phone by the time I say ‘Peter Jr. hadn’t slept in a week and is scawing me- blink blink.’”

“Fuck you.”

“Uh-huh. Goodnight, James Bond. Dream of adventure and stuff or whatever it is you weirdos do. If you call me before I get home for anything less than a level 6 emergency, I will follow through on my threat.”

The phone clicked off without another word and it only took a glance at the rest of the group's faces for Peter to let out a loud laugh before covering his mouth and snickering.

”Peter Jr.?” Cass signed, cocking her head.

“It’s his… last name. I started calling him Peter Jr. after he finally told me his name and found out we shared one. Plus the face he makes every time I insinuate he’s younger than me-“ Peter broke off with another laugh.

Steph and Dick didn’t seem to find it as funny as Cass and Peter did. “Are you sure everything is alright at home? That sounded a little… concerning.”

He waved off the man’s question and started walking deeper into the mall. “This is the best home I’ve had since moving here. Peter Jr. forces me to take care of myself more than my adoptive dad did and that says something. He might seem a little crazy or paranoid at times but he’s had more than enough shit happen to validate it.”

“Okay. Just to make sure, he is not hurting you physically or emotionally and is not asking anything in return for his help?”

“Nope!” He pulled his sleeves and showed off his nice and healed arms. Sure, they had some scars from his many adventures but those were all long since healed. It shouldn’t make the bats more suspicious of Jason.

…

They were definitely more suspicious of Jason. Even Cass seemed upset at his arms and she’d been silently laughing at her sibling's panic a moment before.

”How?” She signed, frown making Peter feel sad.

Shoot. He didn’t want to lie to Cass! But it wasn’t a smart move to admit he was from a whole other dimension. None of his other wild excuses would take the suspicion off either. ‘I was in a cult.’ Nope. ‘I was kidnapped and tortured.’ Plausible and fit their knowledge but also pity. Eww. ‘I am a vigilante from another universe.’ Here’s your one-way ticket into a psych ward. Do psych wards have jello because jello sounds really good right now?

He must have froze for a second too long as Cass stepped forward and took her hand in his, staring him right in the eyes. Ah, man. It was like a puppy begging. How could anyone say no?

Focus Peter. “Ballet? Or nipple piercings? Do those hurt to get?”

Dick mumbled a “Yes, they do” while Cass pulled Peter into a hug. It didn’t take Steph and Dick a second to lurch forward and join in.

“Not that I’m complaining but why the hug?”

He got a bit of a stink eye from Cass but he let go so he could see her hands. ”Someone hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“Oh no! Well I mean yes, I did get these from people hurting me but it was all my fault.” ALERT ALERT WRONG THING SAID ALERT. “I mean- I was in a bad car accident caused intentionally by some people and got a bit hurt in it! Yeah. I made some people mad so they tried to hurt me but I’m fine now!”

The alert was still going off in his head as Cass glared at him. She turned to her siblings and directed them to get food and such before giving them both a shove and turning back to Peter. ”You are lying.”

He cringed a little and rubbed his neck. “Yeaaah sorry. This isn’t a story that's safe to tell hence my terrible lies. I can say that I’m perfectly safe now and have been to oodles of therapy and stuff. I’m over it.”

…

“Fine. I’m not over it but I’ve got some healthy ways of coping and Jason to support me. I know telling you to not worry won’t work but can please stop looking at me that way?”

The girl caved and pulled him into a side hug before dragging him to a table in the food court. (He dutifully kept his mouth shut about how the table was situated with a view of all entrances and a wall behind it. Paranoid vigilantes.)

It didn’t take long for Dick to come running back with mall pretzels and cheese dip, candy, and cinnamon buns. Steph found them a few minutes later with actual food, snorting at Dicks offerings.

“So how’d the talk go, Cass? Find anything out?” Steph asked when Peter stood up to grab napkins. Curse his hearing.

He could see Cass shrug out of the corner of his eye. “Fine. Safe. No worry.”

“I’m not asking because I don’t trust you but because I’m worried: are you sure?” Dick asked seriously while stuffing a whole cinnamon bun in his mouth.

“Yes. He tell when ready.” Bless Cass. She was such a good friend and he didn’t deserve her, even if she was likely speaking so he couldn’t tell what they were talking about.

They hadn’t even finished their food when Duke appeared dragging a Tim who was more concerned about whatever was on his phone than the position his neck was in (or the table he just hip-checked.)

The glint in Duke's eye told Peter everything he needed to know about this situation. It was a set-up. He was doomed.

“Oh, Petey-Pie! It’s good to see you! How are you doing, darling?” Duke asked, forcing the most loving tones into his voice possible.

It took all of Peter's power not to break right then. “Dukey! How’s life going? See anything weird lately?”

“Only the ghosts that always haunt me, my love,” Duke swooned, tactfully keeping himself from looking at Tim’s face. Steph already had her phone recording it.

They made a few more seconds of staring lovingly at each other before Peter cracked. His soda burned as it went out his nose but he couldn’t stop laughing long enough to care. At the sight, Dick choked on his third cinnamon bun, spraying chunks everywhere in his own laughter. Steph’s phone was shaking so hard that her video was likely unusable but just like the rest, she couldn’t stop the giggles.

Tim pouted, dropping down into a chair only to pick up a pretzel bite and throw it at Peter. Thankfully he was still laughing hard enough that ignoring his spidey-sense was easy and the pretzel bounced off his forehead and into his waiting hand. A quick dip in the cheese, and there was one less pretzel ammunition on the table.

“So what had you all looking so serious before we came over? I thought I was going to have to trip Tim or something to break the tension.”

Tim’s glare didn’t stop the chuckles at the table. “Oh, Peter here just said some concerning stuff about his roommate. Cass seems to think it’s all fine.”

Ugh. Vigilantes and their paranoia and coded words.

“Everything alright at home, Pete? If someone is being weird about what we talked about at dinner, I can help.”

“Nope! Actually the opposite! My roommate is super accepting of it all, ten out of ten ally. He’s even introduced me to his friends that are like me so we can talk.” Thank all things amazing that Peter was also bi so this conversation didn’t seem nearly half as weird to the rest of the group.

Duke reached across the table and grabbed Peter’s hand in his own. “I’m glad he’s so supportive. Just remember that you can come to me about anything, not just that. I think you of all people know how safe I am.”

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t listen to this conversation and watch the other's faces with a straight face. Tim looked positively offended at the scene. Dick and Steph looked more confused than Peter did learning Shakespeare. Cass was holding back her laughter, face turning red.

So he laughed. Thankfully no soda cleared his sinuses this time but that didn’t help the ache starting in his chest. “I’m sorry- hah- sorry. I just get this speech like every week from someone different. It was my roommate last week and the week before was Ms. Isley. I even got it from Nightwing and Signal! Although that one was much shorter.”

Cass snorted and brought her face closer to Peter's ear before whispering, “You are bad at this.”

“Oh shush! That was perfectly comforting, right everyone? I told you about others who have worried about me yet they also realized nothing was wrong.” He gave a hopeful glance around the table and wilted a little when he did not find the expressions he was hoping for.

Tim was the one to speak up in the end. “I think you just make everyone worry more when you open your mouth. Like why were you on a Gotham rooftop at night? Why did Nightwing and Signal stop to chat? Is Dr. Isley Poison Ivy? Why does everyone question if you are safe if you truly are? Who is this mysterious roommate? Have any of us met them and vetted them? Why are they concerned about Steph and Cass?”

“Were you listening in to the car conversation again, Tim? Little dude, we talked about this,” Dick sighed while pinching his nose.

Peter decided to ignore the whole eavesdropping thing and address the final questions of Tim’s rant. “Cass has met my roommate! They got along fine by the end of the night and only threatened each other once. Cass even did his hair!”

She nodded. ”I did do his hair and meet him. I don’t think he would ever hurt Peter but I do think he’d hurt people for Peter.”

“Cass! He wouldn’t dare do serious harm to anyone for me. We already addressed that and he knows I can and will call his friends to deal with him or refuse to eat the food he makes, which, by the way, really upsets him. Don’t turn his food unless you want him to pout all day. I think it comforts him to feed everyone around him. I should bring that up during his next letter day, I think I know why too…”

Suspicion NOT handled. “What do you mean why his friends will ‘deal with him.’”

“Depends on the severity of the action. Drinking normally gets him a forced care day with naps, meals, and therapy all included. Uhh stepping over boundaries normally gets a day out of the house when my ‘aunts’ and ‘uncles’ get to hang out with me to make him jealous. Sometimes he is just in a bad mood and nothing will take the edge off, don’t worry he doesn’t get mean or anything when he has a bad mood, but his friends will take him somewhere safe and spar for a while. He’s got some combat training, probably from his time overseas, so he enjoys getting to let loose with people he won’t hurt.” Jason had told Peter most of his story already although it was more or less the child-friendly version. He knew that Jason lived with ninja assassins overseas after he died and that they trained him on some different things than Batman did. Judging by his reactions, he suspected ‘training’ was more torture for obedience but still, combat overseas is a good excuse.

By this point, none of the group was at all convinced about Peter’s safety and the teen was running out of believable lies. A colorful store caught his attention and his chair scraping caught the group's attention. “Oh hey look! A candy store! One with those cute stuffed animals. I’m taking a look. Are you coming, Cass?”

He didn’t wait for the girl's reply and booked it to the store, relaxing when a wall of stuffed animals blocked the group's view. He hadn’t meant to bring so much of their attention to Jason. The man was going to kill him and then himself if he suddenly had the bats full of suspicion. If he told Jason, they would likely move across Crime Alley again which was just a pain.

At least the frog staring at him from across the store was cute.

“Peter?” Cass’ hoarse voice called out from the entrance.

Heaving a sigh, he replied, “Over here.”

“You okay?” She asked while wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

He hummed in reply, letting his head rest against whatever fuzzy animal was behind him. “Don’t want to cause trouble. He will only get paranoid if they look into him.”

Her small hand patted his shoulder before sliding off and the sounds of just a few light footsteps followed before a soft toy was slid into his arms. Upon opening his eyes, the big round eyes of the frog he had seen earlier looked up at him. It was surprisingly heavy but the weight was more comforting than burdening.

“Shh. Okay.” Cass patted his arm gently again until he looked up at her.

“Thanks, Cass. I know I’ll figure it out but it’s just frustrating to not have anyone believe the truth. It’s not like I’m telling them I’m a vigilante or a drag queen! Believing that I’m safe at home should be easy, especially since its the truth!”

“They care,” she explained while opening her arms as far as they go to show how much. “I’ll talk.”

“Pssst! Can we come in yet, Cass?” Dick asked from around the entrance of the shop before yelping as Steph stomped on his foot and whispered, ‘I told you to wait, dumbass!’

The dark-haired girl just stared at him until he sighed and called out, “Yeah! Cass was just showing me this cute frog. What’s everyone's favorite candy? I haven’t tried too many of these types.”

Dick leaned into Steph and whispered ‘seriously?’ before popping up and going straight for the cotton candy. “I love the traditional flavors the most but they sell good green apple and cherry flavors here!”

—

The car ride home was far more awkward than the rest of the day. Even Jason calling because Peter was a minute late to check-in didn’t make it less awkward.

Peter was certainly disappointed that he didn’t get to talk to Tim at all the rest of the trip but at least he got a frog and some clothes out of it.

The car stopped slowly in front of the house and Dick unclipped his seatbelt along with Peter.

“Thanks for having me and buying me stuff today. I had a lot of fun and I hope to see you all again soon!” He gave a wave as he closed the door and his heart sank when a second door closed as well.

Footsteps ran up to him and a hand gently grabbed his shoulder. “Thanks for coming today, Peter. I just wanted to make sure, one on one, privately, between us, that everything is fine. If you need to get across the world and not be found, I can help. Just say the word.”

“I really am fine- I promise. My roommate’s likely waiting at the door to give me a hug and make sure you guys didn’t hurt me so I have to go but seriously Dick, I’m alright. Before I go, though, is everything alright at home for the rest of them? Your siblings worry me.”

Dick reeled back slightly at the question before his best showman’s smile graced his face. “Yep! Our dad hasn’t been feeling well lately and all that so we’ve all been sparring a bit rough than usual. We told you we do martial arts, right?”

A knock on the window above them drew both of their attention. Jason’s gloved hand stuck out from between the blinds and waved before moving into a questioning thumbs up.

“That’s my cue. Goodnight, Mr. Dick!” He called out while jogging up the stairs, shopping bags hitting his sides.

“Night,” Dicks faint and confused call replied until the door slamming silenced the sound.

Peter didn’t make it two steps into the hallway before their door cracked and Jason called out, “Everything okay? Are they gone?”

“All good! I’m hale and healthy. They are all gone. You can stop panicking now.”

His phone dinged the second he crossed the threshold to the apartment. Cass has texted, “They will leave you both alone. Don’t worry. ❤️🐕😎🐣”

“How’d it go? Did they do anything? Cross any boundaries? Do I need-“

“Nope. It all went splendidly. Cass just texted saying they aren’t going to investigate us. Also, look at what they got me!” He brandished the frog as a shield.

Jason’s eye twitched momentarily before he snorted at the stuffed animals. “What, a toad? Is gift always enough to win you over?”

“What? No? And it's a frog. All toads are frogs but not all frogs are toads.”

“…”

“Fine! Sometimes a gift will earn some brownie points but it’s not everything!”

“Sure, kid. Sure. Just like you open your mouth and answer questions like a normal person. Or eat peanut butter as a topping and not a meal. Or how you pace on the ground like a normal person.”

Chapter Text

The final straw had been laid on Peter's back. He was done tolerating this horrid behavior of Bruce Waynes child abuse. In fact, Peter was disgusted with himself for how long it took him to act but this was it. Tim came to work bruised and broken but claiming ‘he just fell down the stairs’. Damian joined them the following day looking like he went cliff diving without a parachute. Even Steph was looking worse for wear.

So Bruce Wayne’s time as a child abuser was up. Peter was going to gather evidence and get his kids somewhere safe before one of them ends up dead.

That led to a set of generic black clothes with a hastily-obtained balaclava being slipped on with an antiquated, ten dollar camera cleaned and ready for its job. Jason just happened to be doing a stakeout as Red Hood that night and thus wouldn’t be able to worry his little head off about Peter’s activities.

The Wayne’s security was somehow simultaneously more and less than he expected but it was certainly no Stark Tech. The cameras were easy to bypass and the electricity on the fence was a breeze to cross. Even better, the Wayne’s had a large tree with great views of major parts of the house that was honestly quite comfortable to lay in with his camera getting a clear shot of quite a few heavily-trafficked rooms.

Which of course gave Peter the perfect view to see Bruce Wayne straight up ninja fighting Damian Wayne and winning. Which of course led to Dick Grayson sliding in dressed head to Nightwing merch pajamas including a very colorful sequin Nightwing pajama shirt. No wonder he had said his siblings were safe! He was part of the problem!

As soon as Damian had been subdued- with Peter having gotten numerous pictures- his spider-sense flared up. But despite how quick he moved, he was left hissing softly as a dart embedded itself in his arm. He glanced in the direction it came from only to see the Wayne’s butler eyeing him through the scope of a tranquilizer gun. Curious as to where this was going, he let himself stumble and fall limp, sliding out of the tree and onto the ground with a painful thump.

It didn’t take long for multiple pairs of footsteps to approach and begin dragging him across gravel, grass, and rock alike before suddenly letting his upper-body hit the ground. A pair of hands frisked his body and took his phone, camera, pocket knife, and a hidden tracker he hadn’t entirely been aware of. The other pair of hands slipped a hood over his head and zip tied his hands and feet together. Both lifted him up again and eventually dropped him onto a chair where a frankly ridiculous amount of zip ties, ropes, and cuffs were attached.

After a few long minutes of quiet with some very loud heartbeats just standing nearby, he shifted his hands slightly to feel the variety of restraints, slowly using his sticky hands to twist them loose.

Footsteps pounded closer before hood was ripped off his face, balaclava slipping off with it. Various shadowed faces of Bats and Birds glared with surprise, betrayal, and anger.

“Who are you? Why were you watching the Wayne’s?” Batman growled out, clearly attempting to portray a terrifying figure. Attempting being the key word. The ears honestly made the whole fur-suit cute.

Peter took a moment to observe his surroundings and the suspiciously familiar faces in front of him. Even more suspiciously was the familiar smells. “Oh hey guys! Duke, is that you? And Tim? Damian? Mr. Wayne?!”

A few of the Wayne’s and company startled but most figuratively switched their crocs in sports mode and tensed up. Peter just ignored those and backtracked, “Oh sugar! Duke- wait- Signal! I didn’t just out your identity, right?”

Duke looked confused behind the mask for a moment but shook his head. “No?”

“Oh good. How have you been doing? We should hang out again sometime! Are you free sometime next week?”

“Sure! It’s a date,” Duke winked, glancing at Tim out of the corner of his eye. Eventually Tim would realize that Duke was pulling his leg.

Tim just stared at the pair before the roar of a motorcycle interrupted the exchange. The Red Hood skidded to stop a ways behind Peter before hopping off his bike angrily. “The fuck you doing, kid? You had me worried!”

Peter shrugged, scratching his head while the bats all squawked at both the intrusion of Red Hood and their captives' suddenly free body. “Hi! Did you know Mr. Wayne is Batman, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, and Tim Drake is Red Robin? Wait a diddly dang moment!”

A cacophony of voices disturbed the bats hanging above, leading to a few flying off with shrieks. “Peter? I thought you said he was fine Cass!” “I thought he was boring!” “Hey, Pete.”

Batman’s gravely voice drowned at the others, “Why were you stalking us?”

“Oh, I just thought you were abusive and wanted to put you in jail,” he shrugged as if he was merely recounting the weather. “I mean I’ve done it before but I don’t have my old tech anymore.”

The big man in black seemed taken aback. “You were… protecting them?”

“Yes? I mean, I feel better knowing that they were injured by the most recent breakout, but I’m still not sure about you.”

“Not to interrupt this sickeningly heartwarming moment,” Jason gruffed, pulling off his hood, “but I need an answer: are you alright?”

Gasps rang out as Peter stood, letting his restraints fall. “I’m fine! Honestly, Mister Alfred- which is the grandfather you always mention?- is a really good shot. He managed to get me despite everything.”

“The only reason I’m not throwing you over my shoulder and wrapping you in bubble wrap before tying you to a chair is because it was Alfred that got you.”

Bruce’s mouth finally stopped mimicking a fish as he went to gasp out a question but Peter didn't give him a moment to speak. “You are such a mother-hen, you know that right?”

“What, are you just now finding this out?” He snarked, ruffling the teens curly hair.

“Jason?” Bruce and Dick managed to breathe at the same time.

The man's face turned sour as his gaze landed on them, voice biting out, “What?”

The dark cloaked man took a step forward, hood falling to the ground. “Do you remember me?”

“Why wouldn’t I, asshole?”

“You are home. I didn’t think it was possible,” Bruce was still breathless as he spoke.

“Home?” Jason barked, “I’m not sure this was ever home. You replaced me. You put another child in that fucking suit like the last one wasn’t murdered in those very colors by a man still tormenting Gotham because you are all too high on your horses to see the pain he causes. And when that Robin couldn’t continue- because he was too injured from another one of your regulars-, you shoved another one in there. It’s disgusting.”

“Jay.” Dick stepped forward firmly, faltering only slightly when his brother's toxic glare turned on him. “You don’t know the full story. Give Bruce a chance to share his, give all of us a chance. How did you even- I searched everywhere for you. And fuck that, Jay! Both me and Bruce killed the fucking Joker but he didn’t stay that way, despite our best efforts! Don’t you dare fucking leave. We have been suffering and grieving you this entire time and you just show up? And then expect to leave without questions? No. We deserve to say our pieces just as you deserve to say yours.”

“A chance?” Jason was gladly stepping into that green fog now. How dare they. “You want a chance to be heard when you haven’t even heard my fucking story? You think you deserve to say your piece? Well fucking fine. Then you have to hear mine first. Catherine sold me out to Joker. He killed me. I honestly didn’t blame any of you for not saving me then, no. I fucked myself over there and faced the consequences of my own childish stupidity. No, I blamed you when I dug myself out of my fucking grave, wandering Gotham looking for Bruce- who failed to be there, like he promised time and time again- before the League scooped me up and tossed me in the Lazarus pit once they realized just how fucked I actually was. As you are aware, this fucks up a person. So instead of being a comatose zombie, I became the bloodthirsty kind. Talia directed me toward my fuck up of a parent and his ‘replacement’ for me. Tried to kill everyone, nearly got killed by Bruce, blah blah blah. Started snapping out of it and went on a tour of the universe with the Outlaws before coming back and helping Crime Alley in ways that actually worked: killing the bastards that will never change. The ones that torment their victims without trying just because them being alive means they can get out of whatever shitty jail you asshats put them in and hurt their victims again and again.”

The younger bats stood back as the older three got more and more worked up. Bruce and Dick’s shock and anger were only amplifying Jason's own rage. Even the most socially inept of the children were able to tell this was going to spiral into mess that left Dick moving away (again), Bruce falling a pit (again), the younger ones left to be injured on their broken pieces, and Jason pushed far enough way that it’s be another 10 years before he even looked at them with anything other than rage.

So the only two with some power stepped in. Peter tugged on Jason's sleeve like a scared toddler, let his weariness show through, and begged, “Can we please go home?”

Jason exhaled forcefully, giving the teens shoulder a squeeze before turning to the motley gang standing in front of them. “Don’t be the first to reach out or I will fucking kill you.”

Bruce went to stop them as Jason helped Peter onto the motorcycle, jamming the helmet on the teens head. Alfred made his presence aware by clearing his throat, the room stilling to hear his words. “It is time to let Master Jason and Master Peter take their leave. Allowing tea to boil too long will only sour it and I believe all need some time to steep and think on the things said tonight. Perhaps one of the Young Masters can reach out to Master Peter and schedule a time for more words to be said once minds have cleared. Master Jason is surely aware he is always welcome here and clearly remembers the way in.”

Peter exchanged a nod with Alfred before giving Jason another encouraging tug and the motorcycle left with as much dramatics as it arrived: wheels squealing and engine roaring.

“So what are we doing with the clone body?” Tim asked, making himself a cup of espresso as if the last hour had been any normal night.

–

“You ready for this?” Peter asked for the sixth time, nervously tugging on his sleeves.

Jason shooed the boys hands away and fixed the sleeves he had rumpled. “The answers the same as the last hundred times and that ‘fuck no.’ Also please stop messing with your sleeves. You will rip them like the last three suits and your aunts, while they love seeing you, do not want to fix it again.

The pair bickered about sewing and clothing and family as they hopped in Peter’s brand-new beaten up Volkswagen Beetle fondly named the Bug-Mobile. Jason had been teaching him to drive with limited success, especially when all his morally-questionable aunts and uncles gave him terrible advice. Despite this, the Bug-Mobile hadn’t gotten into any accidents in its tenure with its bug-boy.

The Bug-Mobile clunked and clanked up the Wayne driveway, sputtering humorously as it was stopped by lighting running into a fountain, it’s passengers practically falling out of their vehicle in their haste to exit. Jasons screams of “Is that a fucking possum nest in your back seat?” made Bruce smile fondly although that was only invigorated by Peters reply of “I couldn’t kick a mom and her babies out from their home!”

The pair stumbled up to the door- only after Peter said sweet goodbyes to the possum family-, their moods lowering slightly as they approached the awaiting Bruce and Alfred. Alfred greeted the pair with warms hugs, tearing up slightly as Jason hugged back. “Welcome home, my dear boy. Now, the rules of the evening: no maiming, killing or torturing, keep insults and verbal attacks to a minimum, and ideally no yelling since Young Master Tim seems to have gotten himself a concussion. Peter and I will be enforcing these rules and removing troublesome parties if they aren't followed and, if necessary, restricting dessert. Is that understood, boys?”

At Bruce and Jasons nods, the front doors were opened and there began the next chapter of their lives, ones filled with letters about petty grievances, pranks, and stolen desserts.