Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If Peter had to guess, it’s been around a week since he was teleported to the strange city known as Gotham. Now, counting days isn’t something he’s ever really struggled with, but he recently learned it’s very hard to do so when one’s stomach is constantly debating on eating itself.

And while his internal organs have been debating on such a matter, his mind is trying to figure out other things. And what he’s come to gather in the week he’s spent lying on rooftops and behind dumpsters is this: Dr. Strange HATES him

Does he really believe that? No. But does each day he wakes make him believe it more and more? … Maybe. Listen. Getting transported to an alternate dimension would’ve been cool and all, if not for the fact that it’s in one of the worst cities he’s ever experienced (not many) in the world. And he doesn’t doubt it’s because it doesn’t exist on his Earth.

Retracing the events of what happened, after the whole Thanos fiasco, Tony has been hospitalized while the other Avengers were off world, helping other planets get back to normal, or helping this planet get back to normal. Peter was on restrictions to only do his friendly neighboorhoodly duties, which definitely didn’t make him mad. Not at all.

So when Mr. Beck came and tried to take revenge on Tony when he’s not here to fix all of life’s problems, things definitely got out of hand. Peter was stupid and gave the very powerful and very important piece of technology that Tony gave him, to Mr. Beck. And then when that was resolved, Mr. Beck had a failsafe and had Peter’s identity revealed to the world. Not a good thing. If anyone were to ask for his advice, it would be to not do that.

Pretty sure you know the rest. Peter met his alternate selves, was stupid and tried to see good in the bad, got Aunt May killed, sent alternate selves and their corresponding villains home, and then finally tried to do the right thing and not mess up the very delicate spell Dr. Strange still agreed to do.

Bada-bing, bada-boom, now he’s in the city of crime itself.

The one thing he isn’t sure about is his existence in this world. Was it his body that transported? His soul? Is he inhabiting some poor kid's body? Is he a ghost?! He doubts it but that would be creepy. He’s going with his body being transported, but he can’t completely rule out the other options. And if his body was transported, how is this universe going to react to that? Rewrite literal history to have him fit in? Or make him make himself be real?

He was already prepared to do that. Which is why he’s at the amazing, fabulous, and totally not almost completely run down library that he’s been searching for in this past week. So, with dreadful steps and expecting the worst of the inside conditions, he was genuinely quite surprised when the inside was really nice.

Scratch that, it looked like a private library only rich people would have in their secret homes. He should know, Tony gave him a personal tour of his. He hoped his awe wasn’t apparent on his face as he slowly walked through the rows and rows of books. It truly was incredible, and he felt a sadness in his heart when he forced himself to pull away from the shelves and find the computers.

When he sat down, he powered on the computer to find a guest login. He expected that. Tony implemented little spider-drones into his first real suit. On his latest suit, the one he made on the jet Happy saved his life on, he added his own drone. It would be used to carry his suit around, compact whatever gadgets he needed, and be another hub for Karen to use.

And maybe Dr. Strange didn’t hate him because his drone A.R.C.H.I.E, or Artificial Remote Carrier Hub Interface Emulator, made it with him on his interdimensional travel. Along with things like his phone, his wallet, earbuds, and a packet a jelly he totally didn’t steal a month ago to use as a small snack. He already ate the jelly, so at least it went to good use.

He looked around the library, making sure no one was watching when he reached under his shirt and tapped the center of the metal piece strapped to his chest. Not even a second later, Archie awoke and immediately crawled onto his hand. He took it back out, watching as Archie reached his mechanical legs towards the PC station, eager to start hacking which is not at all concerning.

Another lesson Tony drilled into Peter’s mind is that when creating an AI, to give it somewhat of a personality. While they won’t have emotions, it still follows a sense of moral and idea of good. He probably learned that from Ultron and Vision. He thought he made Archie to be just a little more hyper-active, hoping it would be excited to help in doing good, but Peter wouldn’t doubt it was actually a sense of mischief he programed in there. He wanted to update it, but he got attached.

It took less than a second for Archie to run through the programing and create a temporary and untraceable cover code to give him a personalized format that Tony created for him. Instead of Google, he created his own search engine for employees, as well as backdoor code given to all avengers if a need ever arrives for them to access the un-accessible. Even after the whole Sakovia Accords fiasco, he let everyone keep the codes.

He quickly typed in that code, being brought to a new search page. On a little message box Archie programmed in, he tasked the little tech spider to find and create a file of anything and everything he needs to know about Gotham or differences in this world to survive. He’d figure out a way to print it out later when he has a place to keep it.

He began his own task of creating his identity and planting it as inconspicuously as possible. Although he hasn’t met with most of the avengers, he’s gotten lessons from them, most indirectly. Peter’s almost 100% sure that Captain America forced the avengers on his side to send some things in when he realized Peter was an untrained kid. He probably thought it would piss Tony off that he’s butting into this mentor-mentee relationship, but Tony was more than happy to give Peter the lessons.

Surprisingly, they all sent in a lot of stuff. And right now, Natasha’s lessons were coming in handy. She had lessons about how to create fake identities and planting them for long periods of time in case he was ever on the run or had to do an undercover mission. He wasn’t in either of those situations, but he was glad they were getting put to good use.

In the middle of creating his fake credit score, a little notification popped up on the bottom right corner of the computer that read: New! Message from Karen!

He didn’t waste any time opening it. It resulted in another chat box that had Peter grinning from ear to ear. It was short message, one that Peter quickly complied with. Put in an earbud and bring up the video. Tony added a ten-hour long video on his phone that made it look like he was on call with him. Whenever Karen needed to speak to him when in he was out of suit, they would use that video while he talked in his earbuds to her.

So, he grabbed out his phone (Archie extended one of his legs and connected his phone to the PC as a charger) and earbuds from his jacket pocket, popped in one earbud, turned on the video and turned back to the screen. There was a little heart in the chat box right above a message that showed Karen left the chat room. He couldn’t help but let a laugh escape him at her antics as he whispered a hello.

“Hello Peter,” her voice rang through somewhat staticky. His smiling face quickly turned into a frown of confusion. “There seems to be no Stark technology in this world, so it is hard for me to connect properly to satellites without being detected. I will continue talking to you while I try to implement myself into a satellite’s system.”

As much as Karen is usually the listener to his rambles and gives him suggestions only when asked, she is still very on top of informing him of something as soon as possible. Something like a tech version of his spidey-sense. It was comforting in a way to hear her voice update him.

“Hey Karen. Glad you made it here with me. Makes me feel better that I’m not completely alone” he mumbled out as he finished setting up his credit history.

“Even if I wasn’t here with you, Archie is programed to stick with you at all times.” At the mention of him, his own chat box with Peter popped up and a smiling face was sent through. Peter continued forging and planting any documents he could think of with reminders and tips Karen threw his way. With how much work he got done, he shouldn’t have been surprised with how much time has passed. 5 hours?! Well that's definitely suspicious. He messaged Archie to send him everything he came up with along with notes on what he’s still looking for.

His two Ais worked together to send the massive file to his phone while he de-coded what he believed to be left behind when Archie disconnected. As soon as everything was transferred and turned off, archie climbed his way back onto his chest plate before he booked it out of the library and onto the rooftops, hoping to find one with some nice covering. 

---

Barbara has seen a lot of things in life. Clones, zombies, Bruce having a biological son. Many things in life don’t come as a surprise to her anymore. So when seeing a younger version of her ex-boyfriend wonder around the library and then spend 5 continuous hours on one of the computers when the limit is two, she shouldn’t be surprised. Remember, Bruce has a biological son that was trained as an heir to an assassin’s thrown. But yet here she is, surprised and utterly confused.

She never goes up to the boy. She really wanted to, but at first she didn’t because he seemed to be having a conversation on the phone with someone. But then her opinion changed when she saw the format of the screen. It was something she’s never seen before. Bing was the search engine mostly used and she's seen other people use different engines like chrome, but yet she's never seen the one this boy is using.

She never went up to him, but she was always finding herself straying behind him to try and figure out what interface he was using and what exactly he was doing. She caught him looking at what seemed to be his credit score, but he looked too young to have one already. Unless his parents started him early. Heck, Bruce already started one for Damian, so it shouldn’t be that surprising.

She was hoping to stop the boy on his way out and try to have a friendly, not secretly integrating conversation with him, but he sprinted out of there as soon as he closed down the computer. She tried to not be too curious. Tried not to come off as a stalker. But she just had to find out what he was doing. She went to the receptionist’s computer and looked up the computer usages only to find out the computer he was using was logged as not being used after noon, and he definitely logged in after noon.

She then pulled out her own gear curtesy of the Waynes and tried to find something, anything that showed the computer had been used. Nothing. It was like he was never there. The shock just keeps on shocking. Of course he has to be some sort of tech genius that already has a good credit history. Of course it has to be a kid that looks like Dick. Of course it’s someone she has to keep away from the Waynes or else Bruce will look to adopt him on the spot.

Now, she fully understands why Bruce does what he does. To protect the kids that are throwing themselves into danger. To give them the proper protection they otherwise wouldn’t have. He knows better than to try and stop them. That would only make them end back up where they were. So even though this new kid didn’t seem like a vigilante who goes out and risks his little kid life to fight bad guys, he’s still toeing the line of tech genius that would get him caught up in the wrong things if he’s not careful, a line that Bruce is always trying to protect others from crossing.

So the matter is settled in her mind. Keep this kid a secret from the crazy protective bat fam while doing her best to figure out who he is and why a random techno teen that can rival Tim just randomly showed up to Gotham library one day.

It was after closing down the library and heading into the secret office space she has in the basement below the basement that things already started going downhill. While on patrol, Red Robin fought off some drunk guys harassing a woman, stopped what was most definitely about to be a gun fight between gangs, and found a shivering boy sleeping atop of rooftop.

Shit.

Video feed from his suit gave the clearest image of the boy she saw earlier lying dead asleep, tucked up against one of the corner walls of the building top. RR hasn’t seemed to notice what she noticed since the boy was fully tucked into himself, but she doubted it wouldn’t take long for him to notice.

“Oracle, what do I do with him. I’ve dealt with many different kinds of people trying to get off the top of buildings in unpleasant ways, but never a homeless kid sleeping on one.” He didn’t sound distressed, just unsure of his next move. “I don’t trust CPS or the system at all, and all the shelters are closed, even Wayne funded ones. But I can’t just leave him here. Can you try and contact a nearby clinic to see if they can take him in for the night?”

As much as she wanted to do that, something was holding her back. It was a weird feeling, because she usually knew why something made her feel that way, but it was a complete mystery to her why this time she felt the way she did. “Red Robin, can you try and move his head so I can get a clear picture? I want to try and see if there’s any matches that show if he’s already in the system and running away or if he really doesn’t have anyone. I know the clinic is already going to do the same and you know they’re mandated reporters, so they have to inform someone if something does come up.”

It’s an excuse, obviously. She doesn’t know what’s driving her to make the decision she is, but it’s a question knowing at the back of her head, begging to be answered. A question she doesn’t even want to acknowledge. Red Robin seems unsure of her reason but starts to do as is asked because he’s always trusted Oracle and her reasonings. Most things she speculates turns out to be true.

Through the video feed, she can see him reaching towards his shoulder, but right before he can touch it, the boy’s eyes fly open in alarm and he jumps up in surprise at how close Red Robin is to him. How he reacted that fast, she didn’t know. And it seemed to surprise Red Robin as well as he jumped back as well. He’ll probably say its to comfort the boy and give him space, but she knows he did it out of fear instinct.

The two were in a staring match for what felt like an hour. It wasn’t until Red Robin made a movement when he was about to start speaking when things really got hectic. The boy immediately turned around and jumped over the side of the building?! WHAT??! Now that’s not something you see a random civilian do every day. Red Robing was stuck in shock, video feed focused on where the boy used to be.

“RR! Check if he’s okay!” Oracle yelled in his ear. He jumped into action, looking over the building’s edge, only to find it completely empty. No unconscious, or heaven forbid dead, body, no dents of any bags, no marks of any kind at all.

The kid just straight up disappeared.

Chapter Text

Peter’s heart was racing. Badly. It was always bad when his heart is racing. He didn’t mean to freak out as much as he did. He was having a nice little nap, when suddenly something yelled at him. Like, screamed right into his ear. Up! Close! Up! Up! Now! It kept repeating until it was so loud he felt his whole body spark with panic. When he saw some random guy dressed in a red and black suit reaching out towards him, he didn’t have any logical part of his brain telling him that it’s probably a vigilante like him checking in on what seems to be a homeless kid on a roof.

Oh, who is he kidding. He is a homeless kid on a roof!

But with the shock of this random guy and whatever it was that was yelling at him, his fight and flight instincts were through the roof, so when they told him flight – wait, that’s wrong, more so hide – he did what he does best. Jump off a building. Wait! That also sounds wrong!

He quickly grabbed the limp backpack (that he didn’t steal out of a dumpster) he was using as a pillow and leaped over the edge, stuck to the wall, somehow hid himself underneath someone’s planters hanging out a window, then ran off to another rooftop. As soon as he landed, he pulled out his earbuds and immediately started talking to Karen.

“What the hell was that?” he asked in exasperation.

“It seems you ran into one of the frequent vigilantes: Red Robin. He usually patrols this area, much like how yo-”

“Okay, I understand that part. I meant the yelling. Who was yelling at me?” He continued running atop roofs, trying to get as far away from there as possible.

“No one was yelling at you Peter,” Karen replied, her voice hinted the slight concern she had. “Archie says your heart rate levels were high, caused by extreme stress. I believe it was a nightmare that ga-”

Peter would feel bad for cutting her off, even if she wasn’t really real. It was still something that cared for him. It showed the Tony cared for him. But he was in a state of tunnel vision where all he could think about is getting away and wondering who told him that.

“It wasn’t a nightmare. I know what I heard. Someone was yelling at me to get up and that something was close.” Karen didn’t respond back. She couldn’t. She isn’t made to speculate unless Peter specifically asks for it, and she doesn’t have the answer, so she can’t respond.

An idea popped into his mind. He realized it when he first transported but put it in the think-later box, which he’s now pulling it out from. “Karen, are you able to determine if I’ve made any physical changes when I landed here? Anything different about me?”

It was such a far-fetched idea from such a small difference he felt in himself. He thought his metabolism sped up, but also though that idea was just a figment of his imagination from the weeklong starvation. Another difference is his internal temperature. With spiders being cold blooded, his internal temperature went down significantly after the spider bite, but it was still very easy to live with and regulate. But he felt like his internal temperature dropped once again. He originally thought it was because this city was just colder than Queens or difference in time of year, but he’s passed by enough tv’s playing through windows that showed it was the end of July and the temperatures were at an all-time high! Which is sad because it’s at 67° F, when that’s around the avg. fall to winter temperature for Queens.

So basically, he ruled out these two obvious but easily explained changes, but was going to look back just to make sure. Which is what he’s doing now. Or what Karen is doing now. “Your physical durability has slightly gone up, making many of your abilities exactly proportionate a spider’s according to body size percentage. Your internal temperatures have also changed to a lower degree, along with new physical abilities. It seems like the transportation has manipulated you DNA sequence more and enhanced the spider DNA.”

Peter was trying to take this all in without panicking. He’s already not in the right head space as is, but adding the panic that just gave him won’t help. But then he stopped in his tracks. Completely. He was about to jump from one roof to another when he stopped. “What do you mean ‘new physical abilities?’ Plural?” he asked.

“Your body is starting to produce its own silk along with its own venom, along with the ability to manipulate pigmentations based off your surroundings. It also seems your sensory abilities have heightened, but I can’t find anything that specifies exactly what changes you’ll notice.”

His face paled more and more as she listed off the new abilities. Why would traveling enhance the spider-side of his DNA? Is something else Dr. Strange spelled up to help him? Is there a scientific explanation to this? There has to be! He pulled out his phone and opened the notes app, decided to actually write down things this time instead of shoving it in a mental box and hoping he remembers to revisit it. Although he’s almost certain he’d remember to look back on this.

He wished he asked Peter #2 more about his spinnerets. At the time, he was just fascinated by the idea that he produced his own silk webbing, but now it would’ve been helpful to know. Wait! How can he be sure that the spinnerets are on his wrist?

As if sensing his panic, Karen’s voice spoke up again through the earbuds, humor lilting her voice. “No, your spinnerets aren’t on your butt.” He let out a breath of relief at that. He felt around his wrist and felt the two little bumps that look exactly like Peter #2’s.

As weird as the idea is, he’s not too fazed by this discovery. While he can work on getting used to using his biological webbing (he’ll have to get used to that), he still has the web fluid Archie keeps, plus the ones already in his web shooters. And they last a long time, so there’s no need to worry at all!

Although the venom thing is a little concerning. “Hey Karen? Can you give me a run down on this new venom I have?” he asked as started to sit down, leaning against the short wall that prevents people from walking off the roof. Definitely effective in stopping people from jumping off.

“The venom your body is creating is a mix of many chemicals consisting mostly of peptides which makes your venom a neurotoxin. It’s strong enough to temporarily and completely immobilize or paralyze something depending on how much venom is injected.” Wells that’s not scary at all. “Your body has also created an anti-toxin which makes you immune to the venom.” Still scary.

Whenever he gets the chance, he wants to try and replicate whatever anti-toxin is in him. Better be safe than sorry. He continues to listen to Karen as she updates him on the changes of his body. His webbing and the change in durability are going to have more impact on his metabolism, awesome. He’ll need to find ways to be warm or else he’ll literally freeze to death soon. The pigmentation doesn’t do much. It just changes his skin tone slightly based on his emotion. So now his skin is like a mood ring. Fantastic. Although it was brought to his attention that under extreme stress, he could apparently go invisible, although it would make him blind until color is brough back. Science! (if his eyes are also transparent, that means light passes through them, not to them, so therefore he won’t be able to see anything until his eyes can reflect and bounce light once again).

He doesn’t really want to experience that.

While Karen is listing all the weird pros and creepy cons of his new abilities, he finds himself wide awake. Not an unnatural thing for him, but it’s definitely a problem where he literally has nothing to do. No homework, no personal projects, no villains of the week.

Wait. He does have something he can do! Maybe. Hopefully. He cuts Karen off when she’s starting to explain the new limits of his speed and agility. “Karen, what’s the working capacity of my suit at the moment?”

“Your suit is at 94% accessibility. The comm systems and Stark technology connection aren’t of any use, but everything else is in new condition. Do you want me to run through a list of all the features available right now?”

“No, but thank you. Can we still get connected to police radio transmissions or are we flying completely solo?” he asks as he quickly throws his jacket (that he totally didn’t steal with the jacket) and shirt off, stuffing them into the almost forgotten backpack. He barrowed (stole) it from a clothing stores dumpster. It’s also where he got the jacket he was currently wearing, along with another long sleeve shirt and pants he has stuffed in the backpack.

“There are a few I can connect to. Only patrol channels are accessible to me right now.”

With his shirt off, he could now see the metal plates embracing his chest. It was shaped like a spider; its legs being used to strap itself onto him and to better his mobility if he had any injuries. He didn’t, but it’s nice to know something will be there for you when most else fail.

If you were to look at a spider from above, it would resemble that, almost like most of his other suits. The front two legs go straight across his shoulders, wrapping towards his back. The second pair of legs after that angle more towards his shoulders, cupping the outer side of his rotator cuff, then connecting with their corresponding first leg right next to his shoulder blade. The first pair of back legs wrap right underneath his arm, fully wrapping around to create a holster-like appearance when connecting to the other two legs. The last set of legs go straight down to his hips before making an immediate turn and connecting to each other around his back side.

The body of the spider is where Archie’s main body is held, but he is connected to the rest of the legs. The body also serves as a protective plate over his sternum and covering some of his heart. The legs are also enforced to cover his ribs, collarbone, and rotation points on his shoulder, along with covering the rest of his heart. The main layout for this design came from Tony for a future suit, but when he had access to the designs with Happy, he used the design to create the base for his suit.

The legs also had another use. Carrying the nano-fabric that his suit is made of. So when he lightly doubled tapped Archie’s main body, the nano-fabric quickly formed to his body, covering him in the familiar and way-too comfortable suit, connecting to his web shooters. He upgraded those as well, deigning them to look non-decrepit bracelets than can be used connected or disconnected to the suit.

When his mask fully covered his face, he felt a relief he didn’t know he was missing. A sense of safety. As much as believed he wasn’t truly alone in this universe with Karen and Archie, he didn’t truly feel it until the suit was fully on.

He quickly webbed his backpack, hoping his luck also changed in this universe and he can come back to an un-stollen backpack. He let out a long sigh, the adrenaline for what’s to come already coursing through him. He ran towards the edge of the building, shooting out a web to another building across the street and jumping off, letting momentum carry him.

In the week that he’s been here, he missed this feeling. The strain of his arms with the pull of his webs, the wind pushing against him, the core strength of control. As much as they may seem like downsides, they were very much a must-have in Peter’s book of vigilantism.

So out of joy, relief, content. Whatever word one might use to describe how he feels. He let out a cheer. He hooted and hollered into the night, listening into the radio stations Karen has connected to.

---

If he had to guess, he quit his vigilantism around 4 in the morning. Karen was good at warning him of incoming vigilantes whenever he was headed to or at a crime scene. He didn’t know much about them aside from what he glanced over on the notes Archie pulled together.

Batman, a vigilante most still believe to be an urban legend. Heo of darkness and shadow. Creepy. Frightening. And he has a flock. Kids, sidekicks, all getting basically initiated with the Robin title before they “graduate” into their own hero while still working under or alongside him. Peter couldn’t tell.

After reading over this information and seeing what they stand for, Peter wanted to steer clear of them. He thought about leaving the city to help others, but he didn’t have the funds. Plus, as many vigilantes as this city has, it doesn't seem to be having the desired effect. He has the power, so it's his responsibility. Thinking that brought a pang to his chest. Only recently has May said that phrase, only a little differently. He swore to himself he was going to abide by it, so just one more reason to stay in Gotham. Yay.

Speaking of funds, he went back to library the next day, hooking up Archie and finishing everything he had to in order to solidify himself as a living breathing human being. He enrolled himself for senior year for the upcoming school year at Gotham Prep. A private school where he applied for scholarship. The only reason he picked this school is because the scholarship: Wayne Future Scholars, gives a weekly budget of $200 for school and living expenses. So he gets paid for going to school. Obviously he’s picking that.

And while he would love to be getting the money right now, it’s only the beginning of summer so he’ll have to wait to see if he’s accepted as an applicant or not for a while. But while that’s going through, he used his credit score to get a something very important: a place to live! He was surprised there wasn’t a long process like applying, background check, in person meeting + tour, and then you get it, but its Gotham.

It wasn’t the best apartment one could ask for, but it had the necessities. It was a small studio apartment with one bathroom. He made sure it was in between the library and Gotham Prep, so it was in an okay place according to reviews.

He also got accepted into a website where you're basically a personal contractor and people could hire you for help depending on the skills you listed. That’ll help bring in some money. Which brings us back to the whole point of this recap. Funds. You might be asking: Peter? Where did you get the money to pay for an apartment.

Easy! He borrowed it! While some might call it stealing when one hacks into a billionaire’s bank account and take $5,000, he says borrowing. He transferred it into his new bank account that’s been set up for 3 years. On paper of course. He purposely left some clues, not matter how hard they might be to find, so if they do actually go looking for it, he should have enough money by then to pay them back.

Maybe it was stupid to stea- borrow from the owner of the company that’s providing the scholarship he applied to, but he’s just thinking of it as an early access to the funds. And like he mentioned, he’s planning to give it all back.

Archie continued curating the know-it-all file while Karen was able to bypass Wayne Tech satellites and secure herself into the system. Only $300 was used for the downpayment of the apartment. Rent was going to be $400 a month, so he’ll need to be smart with saving up the rest of $5,000 he hasn’t set up yet.

He’s planning to buy a phone from this universe and a laptop, along with some notepads as well, but that was all pushed the back of his mind (written on a new notes app page), when he remembered he needed furniture. He sighed before finding a Home Goods website. Although it wasn’t Home Goods, it was House Wells.

What kind of name is that. He was looking through mattresses when his computer suddenly shut down. Archie came crawling out of the PC, back into the chest plate in the blink of an eye. The computer rebooted itself and came to the guest log in screen again before he realized what happened. He wanted to look around to find the person who tried to hack back-hack Archie, but that would just point him out to whoever did it.

He quickly picked up his backpack and started making his way to the entrance of the library. As he was walking out the doors, he took another glance back only to see a woman sitting behind the front desk with a slightly annoyed look on her face. He shrugged it off, quickly taking off and out the library.

Now because he has the time, he decided to knock out some things on his to-do list. And while he couldn’t go to his new apartment yet (they said they were doing some extra cleaning), he still had other things he could go out and do.

Like go pick up his new debit card from the bank he’s been with for 3 years now. It was a simple process. He told them he lost it, gave them his information, and then boom: they printed one out for him. Easy peasy.

Although something one should know if they want to continue reading: while making his new identity, he actually changed his name in case it was in his name that cursed those around him. And if there was a true alternate self of his here, he couldn’t have the same name. He wanted to keep a piece of himself with him, so he changed his last name to his first name and used Peter as his middle name. As for his last name, he had to think long and hard about it. He thought of his mother’s maiden name but thought of it being too close to his true identity. So he went with his Grandma on his Dad’s side maiden name:  Grayson.

Parker Peter Grayson. Totally flows out the mouth smoothly

After that, he went to a crafts store and got some notebooks, pens and pencils, and then went to a thrifting place to get an extra jacket. Even with the one he had now, his new internal temperature as worrisome and as much as he wanted to spend his borrowed money on other things, he had to think critically about it.

With his newfound (not)-one-of-a-kind equipment, he headed off to a place he was hoping to find peace a quiet. A park. One he passed by a lot on the way to the library. When looking at maps to figure out an apartment, it was also pretty close to Gotham Prep.

With the thought that he’ll be visiting there more than once, he designated it Peter’s Park(er). A place to sort out emotions regarding personal life, not Spidey-life. It didn’t take him long to get to the park. And when he did, it was completely deserted.

Not completely, but definitely more deserted than one might think when you imagine a park in the summer. Although he guesses he can give the people of Gotham a pass on that with how cold their summer seems to be.

Well, having a park to yourself isn’t all that bad. He continued walking through the park, following an evened-out dirt path that led to a small lake or a large pond, before finding a bench away from the edge, yet still facing the water. He set his backpack down against one of the legs of the bench and took out one of the notebooks as well as opening one of the packs of pencils.

And while he previously dubbed this Peter’s Park(er), a place only for Peter Parker problems (that should be trademarked as well!), he currently didn’t have the facility for Spider-Man problems. So, he opened up the notebook, titled the first page: A Spider in Gotham, and started writing down things he found out for himself that Archie and Karen had yet to relay to him.

---

Dick thinks he would be a fantastic father. As much as he used to deny it, he practically raised Damian. Bruce wasn’t there to do it; Batman wasn’t there for the new Robin. Dick had to step up and take over. So, to restate the point, Dick thinks he would be a fantastic father.

Damian agreed to go to this family picnic Dick scheduled for them. They never really got to go out and do stuff as a civilian family, even though there were problems with that without the secret vigilantism on the side, but he made it his mission to put together a little something for the family. A stress relief if you will.

Now, some couldn’t come. Barbara was at her actual work while Duke was out being the daytime hero. Bruce was out of state, probably with the League. But everyone else was here. Damian and Tim were getting on better terms, yet the friction was still there. Steph wasn’t helping whenever she would tease Tim and make his mood worse. Cass had to distract her and keep a constant conversation with her so she wouldn’t bother the other two.

Dick watched all this with a small affectionate smile on his face. He used to get teased for it, but it started becoming a normalcy for them now. Which is a little concerning knowing their family luck. But he wouldn’t push it. Damian brought Titus with us, the large dog sniffing around the grass and peeing on trees. The sun was actually out today to, even though it was still cold. One could say it was a calm and serene sight.

“Titus?” Dick’s eyes flew open. He didn’t even realize they were closed! He immediately took into account where everybody was. Same spots as before. Although Damian was searching around the park. “I can’t see Titus” he states, his eyes roaming over what he already searched through.

Dick heaved himself up with a groan. “The park is gated, plus there’s barely anyone here. And he has his nametag on with the chip. He should be fine,” he assured as he brushed the loose grass from his hair. “You guys stay here, keep relaxing, I’ll look for him.”

He headed off in the direction of the small lake, knowing it was the best advantage point to see as it was the most open space. He knows Titus wouldn’t go in the water, at least he hopes so, so he shouldn’t have to worry about that.

It didn’t take long to find him. On a bench a bit further down was a boy who looked to be about Damian’s age sitting along a bench, writing in a notebook. His free hand was hanging against the side of him, absentmindedly scratching the head of a napping Titus. The dog was lying next to the bench, head resting at the perfect angle for the boy.

Today must be his lucky day of seeing such precious sights. He stood there for a minute, appreciating the young boy looking out for Titus before he decided he should go and drag the dog back to their little pack. He walked up slowly as to not startle the boy.

He looked up from his notebook, his pen stopping in the middle of writing, wide eyes staring right into Dick’s. Eyes that look like just his mom’s. Eyes that seem to be mirroring his own emotion. Why would this boy recognize him.

Titus noticed the scratches stopped, so he looked up to see Dick before bouncing over to him. The boy was still frozen in his spot, staring wide-eyed at Dick. What felt like hours, but was probably only a couple seconds, they stared at each other before the boy quickly grabbed his backpack and ran, holding his notebook tightly in his arm.

Dick was still frozen in his spot. It took Titus licking his hand to break him out of the mental freeze. He kept reasoning with himself about what just happened as he walked back to the picnic spot. Brown eyes are the most common, why was he so shocked about it? And the kid being frozen before running off? He probably just recognized him as Wayne’s first adopted son! Yeah! He got starstruck and ran off. That had to be it.

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” Steph teases as he makes his way back to his spot. Titus lays down next to Damian, the latter laying his own head against the dog’s shoulder. Dick just ruffles Steph’s hair before sitting himself back down, deciding to close his eyes and clear out all the thoughts in his head.

It’s not like he’ll ever see that kid again anyways.

Chapter Text

Throughout his life, Peter thought about his parents a lot. As kid, after finding out his parents died, he promised himself he would remember everything about them. He kept as many pictures of them as he could. Pictures at the fair, holidays, vacations, anything he had. Even their college graduation photos. He would write down at least one memory he had of them once a day; most of his notebooks were carrying around different versions of the same memory.

That small habit included Ben after he died. Now he kept pictures of his own graduation, their own boys nights, as well as their own vacations that Ben and May always tried to provide. And then after May’s death, he never had the time to. He broke his streak of writing memories when he teleported here, having no way of writing or typing them out.

He finished writing out a simple plan for how both Peter and Spider-Man will survive in Gotham when these thoughts started forming. But just as quickly as they were forming, they left when a large dog came over, sniffing at his backpack. Probably trying to find food, which Peter didn’t have. It disappointed both Peter and the dog.

It looked up at him with sad eyes. Why has he never seen a dog use puppy dog eyes at him until now? “I know bud. I’m hungry to,” he said before rubbing the dog’s head. He saw the collar on the dog. He knew the dog belonged to someone. But right now, it felt nice to be with something that seemed to understand at least one thing he was going through. He’ll look for its owner before he leaves the park. For now, he’ll keep comforting the dog while he writes out a memory that’s coming into his mind.

He was too young to hold a lot of memories of his parents, only 4 when they passed, but the one he was thinking was still very prominent in his mind. It was a December, and his parents were staying over with Ben and May. Because Peter’s dad and uncle were Jewish, they used it as an excuse to stay over longer to celebrate Hanukkah, while also celebrating Christmas because his mom was Christian. They weren’t devote believers, but they still liked to celebrate the holidays in honor of being a family.

He was writing about how his dad was teasing Ben about some frosting May put on his nose when the same voice that yelled at him earlier spoke up.

Front. In front. Hi!

Peter concluded that the change in his senses was that it could talk to him now. He thought it would take a while to get used to, but with everyone in Gotham setting off his senses every second, hearing the new voice became second nature. Although this one was louder, so he looked up from his writing to see who was in front of him.

His eyes widened immediately, body freezing in shock. His dad. His very dead dad that he was just writing about was standing in front of him, looking at him with a slightly shocked expression as well. He looked just like the pictures he kept. The ones where they went to fairs and vacations. The ones where he’s holding Peter and smiling at him as if the child version of himself was the man’s world. He looked just like that.

Peter briefly wonders if he actually traveled back in time, but that idea left as soon as it came. Peter couldn’t stop staring. His dead father was right in front of him, of course he’d want to take him all in. But it’s when he took all of him. It’s when he started to focus on the pattern of his breathing that he knew it was real. All too real.

He jumped up faster than he has in his life, grabbing his backpack and running out of the park, clutching his notebook like his life depended on it. He internally apologized to the dog, sending a quick wish to the gods (does this world have Asgardians?) that it will be returned to its owner.

His dad was alive. And if he wasn’t and it was just a random guy in a random universe that looks exactly like his dad, then it was a cruel joke. A really cruel joke.

He didn’t know where he was heading until he got there. The library. Well, he couldn’t go back inside. He left probably an hour or two ago. He heaved a long sigh, hoping it’ll help even his breathing. It helped a little, but his breathing was still quicker than it should be. A lot quicker than this universe’s Richard Parker.

He heaved another sigh at the thought, turning right back around and walking down the street. This time with a destination set in mind. While he still never got a notification about his apartment being cleaned up, he decided to just head there and see. Probably even help. He hopes. Prays even. As long as can do something.

It didn’t take him long to find the apartment building. It was around a seven-minute walk from the library, and when he looked it up, a 15-minute walk to Gotham Prep. The only problem he had was figuring out which building his apartment was in. The buildings all looked somewhat the same, the only differences being the slight coloring to the bricks.

It took him a while to find the sign with the name of the building, it being a small plaque near the door. There wasn’t much inside the lobby, just a loveseat couch and a front desk. He went up to the desk, giving a bright smile to the person behind it.

It was an old man with a permanent scowl on his face, glaring at Peter as he walked up. “Hi, I’m moving in today and was hoping you could help me find my room?” he asked, still smiling at the man.

“What’s your name?” the man asked, his voice coming out in a harsh tone.

“Parker Grayson.”

The man’s eyes narrowed a bit, taking no caution to hide his judging stare. He seemed to approve of something as he gave a small nod and turned towards his computer. He started typing something in, then scrolled around a bit. “You’re in room 834, eighth floor, second to last on the left side,” he grumbled out once again, before his eyes narrowed once again, but this time at the screen. “It says your room is being prepared right now. You’re early.” It wasn’t in an unkind voice, but uninviting.

“I know, but I had nowhere else to go, and I thought I could help with preparations, since it’ll be, you know, where I live,” he said, chuckling involuntarily at the end, his mind’s way of trying to lighten the mood. It didn’t seem to work as the old man’s scowl grew deeper.

“No one’s allowed to help out. Just sit over there,” he said, pointing towards the loveseat couch.

He shuffled over there, putting his backpack down and sitting on one side of the couch. He resorted to looking at the information Archie has put on the file. He decided to learn more about the public figures of Gotham, the most prominent surprisingly being a billionaire and not a politician or celebrity.

He was in the spotlight for being rich but stayed there for his personality. Bruce Wayne actually has (a lot) more than your average billionaire, but people just call him that because it’s easier. Was and is loved by the public. Nicknamed Brucie. Cute.

He was known as Gotham’s charming playboy, much like Tony, but has since made changes and become a more respected figure in Gotham’s eye. His company, Wayne Enterprises, works on a lot of projects trying to help the less fortunate, but that surprisingly doesn’t get much coverage as when he goes to a social event with his kids.

But they weren’t his kids. Biologically. Except for one. He adopted most of them, and some others are just always around him. Many say they’re adopted in spirit, but not on paper. Another cute point. He didn’t get to read much about them. Mostly because he froze for a second, when he got off course as he saw Brucie’s first son. The man he met in the park. His dead dad. Fantastic.

So his not-so-dead dad in this universe is, once again, not dead, but not only that, was adopted by the richest man in the world. Fan-fucking-tastic. He still has the same name as his dad, but to make matters worse, his last name in this universe is Grayson. He came to one conclusion: Parker luck was at it again. Great job Peter. Really tricked the system this time.

It was when he was reading articles about how the two met that the old man from before called out a quick “Hey” to get his attention. He was holding up a pair of keys, tossing them on the counter before glaring back at the computer screen. He stuffed his phone in his backpack before picking it up and grabbing the keys from the counter, calling out a quick “thank you” before heading towards the room number the man grumbled out before.

834. Good height, apparently at the end of the building. Left side, hopefully facing the backend of the building. It would be harder to hide his crawling-out-a-window thing if he faced the street. It was as he was walking down the hall that he saw what he was guessing was the “cleaning crew.” They were in hazmat suits.

He stopped and stared at them, confused and honestly a little terrified as to why they were in hazmat suits. He tried to shake his head out of the fear. You have super healing abilities Peter. You can live through most poisons Peter. But what if it’s a body? Stop thinking about it!

He continued on his way down, counting out the numbers that he saw plastered on doors. It’s when he was towards the end, as the man had said, that he saw his room. Second to last, left hall, on the right side. Facing the back alley. Hell yeah.

He totally didn’t do a small fist pump before taking out his keys and opening the door. It looked pretty spacious, but he had to remind himself that this was a studio apartment. It was advertised as pre-furnished, so there was a bed frame with a mattress pressed against the wall right across from him.

When he first walked in, there was a wall to immediate left. If he remembers the layout correctly, the other side of the wall was a small room that held the washer and dryer. On his left side though was the living room. It had an L shaped couch facing out towards the apartment. There was also an end table next to him. He set the keys down on the table and tossed his backpack on the couch before continuing to walk in.

He turned around the corner and sure enough there was the washer and dryer staked on top of each other. Past that small room was the dinning room, connected to the kitchen by a small bar area. He turned back to look at the living room seeing there was a TV. The wall that had the tv cut off but was still somewhat connect to a desk that extended from the edge. Past the desk was the bedframe he mentioned earlier.

He walked past the desk and looked at the other side of the wall seeing the bathroom area. There was a door blocking off where the toilet and shower were as well as a small closet space for towels and sheets. In between that closet and desk was  thin but tall shoe rack. And then he turned around to see what laid beyond the other side of the bed. A small walk in closet. And last but not least, the bed. Right above the bed was a window. A pretty big window at that.

Oh this was so cool. He would like to say he shouldn’t be shocked, but he was. He didn’t think Gotham was so bad of a place that a nice studio apartment like this was worth so little. Just how bad was this city. He got a taste of it when he went out last night as Spider-Man. He mostly helped with muggings and harassment, nothing big. He doubts word has gotten around yet, since it hasn’t even been a full 24 hours he thinks. And even if it did, he’d have the Bat Clan on his tail, which was a no no from him.

But speaking of Spider-manly activities, he looked at his phone and saw it was around 9:45 at night. How long was he at the park for? And how long was he waiting in the lobby for? He sighed before taking his shirt and pants off and tossing them on the bed before tapping his chest plate. Archie sent out the nano-fabric and encapsulating himself within the suit. It felt nice. Freeing in a sense.

Even after the events that happened what feels like a day ago but had really almost been two weeks. He could let loose as Spider-Man in terms of personality. He still had to hold himself back with his strength, even more so now, but he could be more carefree and felt less risk of saying his jokes with the mask covering his face. Some would call that self-destructive, but Peter disagreed. It was a release. A way to express himself in the fullest.

He crawled on top of the mattress and propped open the only window his entire apartment had, looking down into the alley below, and smiling to himself as he closed the window behind him, sticking to the bricks next to it.

“Hey Karen. Anything special today?” He asked.

His lenses lit up. “I’ll look out for some bigger things today Peter. There’s some activity about 3 miles north you should check out,” Karen responded, a small holographic map that led to where Karen was talking about was placed over the actual layout in front of him.

He broke out into a full grin, jumping off the building and connecting his web to the edge of the building in front of him. “Time to start a new web in a new city!”

Silence met him.

He called out to Karen, hoping to restore his pride. “Ya, I know that was bad. I’ll do better, I promise!”

---

“So why are we here again?” he couldn’t help but ask. Red Hood is a I work alone kind of guy, so imagine Dick’s surprise when he called Nightwing over to accompany him to a stake out. “You sure you’re not going to stab me to send a message to B?”

The man beside him grumbled, either at the name or accusation, he’ll never know. “If I wanted to do that, I’d ask for Double R.”

“So you do care about me!” he called out, wrapping his arm around Hood’s neck and pretending to mess up his hair instead of rubbing the top of his helmet.

“Don’t go putting words in my mouth!” he spit out, pushing the other off of himself. “Besides, we need to focus. One gang has been stirring trouble in my territory, and while I’m good at my job, I need to get information in a non-violent way this time. Which is where you come in.”

They were left in silence after Dick snickered at Hood’s attempt of covering up his feelings. Even with the mask on, Dick can tell Hood somewhat appreciated the time they had with each other, even if he doesn’t realize it himself. “Changing topics: you make fun of me for Discowing, which was an awesome era by the way, yet you have this pill-head of a helmet on.”

“With the shit going on in Gotham, I need all of me being protected. Leaving parts of my head too exposed is too dangerous,” the man huffed, not at all liking that topic change.

He let out his own huff, giving Hood a pointed look. “Couldn’t you have made it more fashionable? You are kind of the staple of Crime Ally, and all the kids draw you as a red circle head.”

“Only you would care about marketability,” he says, poking at Dick’s head like having that idea is stupid.

“Marketability helps sway public opinion,” he started, but Hood cut him off.

“I don’t care about public opinion.”

“You will one day. You’ll wish you listened to me. I’m always right. Don’t deny it,” he pushed his point with a teasing voice, hoping to get through to Hood if he took it as somewhat of a joke.

“You were wrong with Discowing.” At Dick’s shocked face, Hood let out a light chuckle.

He wanted to retort, but a voice broke through his comms, sounding slightly aggravated. “Blue bird, Pill head,” Hood grumbled at that, “you got some company coming very soon.”

Oracle wasn’t supposed to be watching over them, since this was a personal matter for Hood’s somewhat (very) illegal business that B lefts go under the radar, since he’s doing most of it for good. Even if they disagree on how to help people, they still help each other in some ways. “Good or bad?” Hood asked first.

“Undecided. Helps others but is a possible meta. Could be a front. Somehow heard about an illegal exchange going on near where you two are. Can one of you take a break and try to catch him? Need to bring him in for questioning.” The two looked at each other. Hood let out a sigh as he nodded, directing his head to the direction Oracle relayed over the comms.

Dick jumped off the roof, using his grappler to swing between buildings, trying to get to the decided interception spot first. And he did, hiding on one of the rooftops, waiting for whoever this new man could be.

It didn’t take long to see him coming in the distance. He was using some kind of string, having them stick to buildings and using momentum to swing him forward at incredible speeds. Almost like their grappling hook, yet still so different. He had to be fast if he wanted to catch this guy off guard.

He was about to leap off the building when the masked head turned his way, the eye lenses on his mask scrunching up as if he was smiling before waving with his free hand. He then used that hand to shoot out another string from his wrist and shoot it off at another building, swinging in an arc and changing directions.

While being seen caught him off guard, he wasted no time jumping into action and trailing the man. “O, he’s using some kind of string to move around. He’s using it like our grappling hook,” he relayed back to Oracle. He doesn’t doubt she started a file on this new guy, maybe even pulled Tim into it, so he thought he might as well help out. B is going to want to try and catch this guy as soon as possible once this gets around to him.

“Tim’s trying to extract some that he left behind at a fight scene he beat us to. It’s some kind of webbing, but he’s having trouble deciding if it’s natural silk or synthetic.” Dick nodded even though he knew O couldn’t technically see him. Not unless she was watching through surrounding CCTV which is actually a very high possibility.

The man in front of him kept swinging away in a speed slightly faster than him. Although the family will deny it, Dick has beaten them in every swing race they had, so admitting that the man in front of him is going faster than him is genuinely scary. How strong is he to be able to withstand going such a speed?

The man looked back before taking another turn down an alley. Dick followed, but when he rounded the corner, the man was nowhere to be seen. He landed on the ground, wondering if the man thought he could do a sudden disappearing act. He was about to jump into a dumpster when a cheery voice called out above him.

“Hey dude! I would totally love to play this game of cat and mouse right now, but I kind of have to stop something illegal happening, so can you possibility hold off for like an hour?” When he looked up, the man’s masked head was leaning over the edge.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he replied as he used his grapple gun to get on the roof. The man had already moved away from the edge, standing in the middle of the roof, waiting for him to come up.

“I mean I understand, but we’re on the same side right? Trying to help those who can’t help themselves, stopping bad things from happening. Heroing things up!” Dick took a better look at him and realized something. While he had the stature of a young man, his voice was what made him realize the man in front of him was actually a kid. Probably between Damian and Tim’s age if he had to guess based on the voice alone. Although his stature gave that away as well.

“Sure, but we can’t have random kids who might be metas going out unsupervised and untrained. It’s a risk to the people you might be trying to help and most importantly, a risk to you.” While that was true, he purposefully left out how Dick in fact did not know if they’re on the same side.

“Oh, don’t worry about tha!. I know how to handle myself! And I’m not a kid. The name’s Spider-Man. You see, the Man is very important, because that’s what I am. A man,” he said in the most childlike voice he’s ever heard. Kind of sounds like Tim when he used to get upset at everyone calling him a young boy.

And he’s not at all worried about the part of I know how to handle myself. Has he been out as a vigilante before? If so, how haven’t they heard about him? And how young was he when he started? “Kid, you don’t sound a day over 15,” somehow his lenses made him look shocked and offended all at once, “and no matter your age, you need approval from Batman to work in Gotham anyways.”

The boy stiffened. Batman must be a touchy subject for him. Why? “I think we both know that me asking Batman wouldn’t go well?” What? The kid seemed to notice his own confused face because he continued on. “He hates mutants, or metas or whatever you guys call them, so with my… uh… abilities, you really think he’d even give me a chance? Plus, I don’t want to be part of the weird lineage of Robins, because I don’t doubt that’s the only way he’d let me continue on. Sorry not sorry.”

Dick just stared in silence. Well, he’s not wrong on the Robin part. While he might not make the kid a Robin, he’d still try to keep the kid by his side, although it’s more for protecting the kid than keeping them on a leash. “I don’t know where you got the idea that Batman hates metas-”

“Wikipedia”

“-but, the rule of limiting metas in the city is him trying to protect the city from fights between heroes and villains that do more damage than good.”

“Oooooh, I understand that? While I agree, that just gives me more of a reason to avoid him. Sorry dude, but I don’t want to get kicked out. Plus, this place could use another person looking out for the little guy.” Dick noticed at this, this kid’s posture relaxed. He was tense, ready to flee at any point during this conversation, but he seemed to be getting comfortable. He hoped his own body language was coming across that way as well.

“As much as I agree with the last part, it would work in your favor if you got approval from Batsy. He’s not against all metas. We have a daytime hero, Signal. He’s a meta. Plus, Bats can hook you up with some pretty cool tech!” At that, the kid’s lenses scrunched up but this time as if he tasted something bad.

“No thank you! Your tech is a bit outdated by my standards.” It’s when he says that when Dick notices something strange. The kid’s suit, the fabric of it, is metal. A metal fabric. All of it. By the little he’s seen of the kid, he moved swiftly and easily, yet is covered head to toe in some kind of metal.

Where did the kid get this kind of suit? Is he working from someone? The court of spiders? Wasn’t there a name they would pass down to certain assassins that was spider-themed? He’ll ask Tim or Damian later. But for now, he’s got to focus on how to get this kid in. By what he saw, the kid has a superstrength of some kind if he was able to swing one-armed with a web easily, he’s also got speed if he got on the roof this quickly after making the sharp turn. He also must have a super sense if the saw Dick before he even moved. This will be tricky, but he knows he can do it.

The kid was looking down at the spider design on his suit when Dick jumped into action. He flung one of his throwable taser darts at the kid, but he sidestepped it without looking up. Almost like he wasn’t the one controlling his movement. He looked up, shock evident with his. “Hey man! I thought we were having a good conversation!”

“Sorry kid, it had to come to an end sooner or later” he said before lunging for him.

“It’s Spider-Man! Stop calling me kid!” he yelled out as he dodged, shooting one of his webs at Dick’s foot, making him fall as he tried to pick it up. Not embarrassing at all. He turned around to try see where the kid was, but saw him jumping off the building, a web attached to the building across. “Sorry, but can’t have you interfering with me trying to help others! See you around!” he called out before disappearing around another corner.

He laid there in silence, thoughts running wild in his mind. “Wing, talk to me, what happened,” Oracle’s voice came through.

“He got away. He used his webbing to keep me stuck. I need someone to help me get out.” He was glad no one was around right now to see how red his face was. God, how embarrassing is that.

“Red Robin is headed your way. He’s trying to collect as many samples as he can of the webbing, so he’ll get you unstuck.”

Silence followed after that. He let out a sigh as he continued to lay on the rooftop, appreciating the cool wind against his hot face.

---

It’s probably been about nine or ten days since he ran into Nightwing, and there was an obvious difference after that. After his first act of any night, a bat was soon trailing after him. Or trying to. They weren’t as fast as Nightwing was which makes things easier for him, but it made patrols a lot harder to do. They’re hindering him helping others, which is like the complete opposite of what they’re there to do.

So far he’s met (ran away from) Nightwing, Red Robin, Spoiler and Robin. He’s only talked to Nightwing and Red Robin, if yelling to stop chasing him is considered talking, but the other two he lost before a yelling match could ensue.

But today’s not about Spider-Man business! Today is about Parker business. Although he’s bought stuff with his debit card for the apartment like bed sheets and kitchen utensils, today is a sweet-treat kind of day for him. Buying something that’s not a necessity. He told himself this is the only day since he can’t be senseless with money until he gets the scholarship.

Speaking of, he got a letter two days ago saying his application was accepted and that the test for total acceptance was a month away. Two days before the actual beginning of their school semester. Risky. He only found out about it because he visited the library every other day and was checking his emails. The lady that’s usually at the front desk started greeting him as a regular, but they don’t know each other’s names yet. He hasn’t tried to get a library card yet so that’s probably why.

He put on a some-what nice plain black shirt with a random pair of jeans he left on his bed. He also grabbed the thick jacket he bought recently before he grabbed his wallet and backpack and left his apartment. Having the wallet was a little grounding whenever he started to panic about how far away his world is. While he got a new ID to fit Parker Grayson, he still has his old ID as Peter Parker.

He’s swung through these streets enough that he has a rough idea of places nearby, and there was one café he really wanted to try out. It was called Hidden House Café, and even though it’s not hidden, its a very mystique, nature-y kind of place. It was near the park he went to before, so it wasn’t connected to other buildings and had a lot of plant life surrounding it.

When he walked inside, he was greeted by a cheerful “Hello! We’ll be right with you!” He was looking over the menu, settling on a regular hot chocolate. While he could drink caffeine before, he wasn’t so sure now. He remembers watching a stupid study of someone giving spiders alcohol and caffeine, and he bets he’ll have the same reaction now with caffeine as those spiders did.

He’s honestly willing to test it out, but definitely not right now. When he got his hot chocolate, he sat in one of the corner seats. There was more seating outside the building than inside. With only three tables, two of them being corner tables, most of the space was filled with a counter that blocked off the space for the workers to, well, work. The outside area had around five tables, all of them blocked off from the sidewalk with a white picket fence. It was cute, and he must say, it was a very nice place to relax. Especially with the type of place Gotham is. A nice change of pace.

Others apparently think the same since this place was packed. Customers always came and went, getting a quick drink to-go or something to sit down and relax. He let the sound of this café relax him.

He was absentmindedly sipping on his warm hot chocolate when he heard two voices speak to him. One being his senses excitedly calling out Hi! Hello! Hi! Know them! Hi!, and another voice he sadly recognized. “Excuse me.” He looked up, coming out of his relaxed headspace. And oh, shit he shouldn’t have done that. “Is there anyone else sitting here? I don’t want to be a bother, but all the seats inside and outside are taken so this is only available seat.”

He knew Parker luck was bad, but he didn’t know it was this bad. Richard fucking Grayson, his not-dad, is asking to sit across from him. The man in front of him seemed to recognize him as well, as his smile grew more genuine. He didn’t even wait for an approval as he set his coffee mug on the table, excitedly sitting in the chair.

“Hey! You’re the kid from the park! I didn’t get a chance to thank you for staying with Titus. And apologizing for having that happen in the first place,” Richard Grayson said.

Peter stared at him, shocked first that he is once again talking to an alternate version of his dad. Whose rich and successful. And not dead. You would think he’d gotten used to the idea by now, but his mind is still trying to register the face in front of him. The one he’d really ever seen in pictures. He was too young to have a lot of memories of him, but yet knew exactly what kind of person he was. It was like a trip to the past. “Oh, uh, it was no problem at all. He was good company.”

Richard’s smile grew bigger at that, taking a sip of his coffee after nodding in understanding. They sat in silence for a while, Peter fiddling with the rim of his cup, not knowing what to say or do. He decided to distract himself with pulling out one of the notebooks he brought with him and focus on studying for the scholarship acceptance test.

He knew he’d be fine on most of the subjects, but he didn’t doubt there was going to be one subject he’d bomb if he doesn’t properly study it. History. He doesn’t know how different the history of this universe is to his, especially if there’s a whole city that didn’t exist before. He put pen to paper, writing what he knew of the first 13 colonies. Might as well start from the very beginning.

“What are you doing?” Peter looked up and saw Richard staring at him curiously.

“I applied for the Wayne Scholarship to get into Gotham Prep. I’m not confident in my knowledge of history so I’m trying to study for it.” Is this going to be another way the universe tries to make him suffer?

Look! You never got to spend time with your dad! He never got to yell at your for getting questions wrong when “helping” you do homework (he’s heard stories). So now your not-dad is going to do it!

Thanks universe. “Wayne Scholarship? I could help you with that.” Oh. Maybe not? But it’s then that the constant thought of Richard Grayson being a rich Wayne kid connected that he would definitely know the Wayne Scholarship. Sometimes he can be very stupid.

“Wouldn’t that be cheating?” He finally looked away from Richard and started writing down things he already knew about the world’s history. He’ll look things up and highlight similarities, then rewrite the notes with what’s different and highlight those.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Richard shrugging while taking a sip of his coffee before saying: “Not really. I meant in the sense that I can help you navigate all the privileges that come with them. Like the $200 weekly allowance.”

“Oh, thank you. Although I think I’d rather focus on getting accepted first before planning out how to use privileges I might not even get.” There was a moment of silence while Peter continued to write down things he could remember.

Richard went on his phone instead, but Peter could still see him glancing over at what he was doing sometimes. He decided to ignore the man, trying to focus solely on what he was working on. “You seem like you don’t need that much studying with history if you’re writing all that down from memory.”

He looked up again. Richard just seemed to have a complacent look on his face, once again taking a sip from his coffee. How isn’t that empty yet? “I’m writing down what I think I know and going back through and changing what I got wrong,” he said before going back to his work.

Richard hummed in response before they fell into silence again. As he continued working, he tried to zone out so he could focus solely on what’s in front of him. History. The sound of the people once again started to relax him. Or so he thought. Having Richard’s eyes glance at him every second was not only making the silence uncomfortable, but also agitating.

He should’ve been able to predict when this starts happening, but of course something else happens that makes him want to crawl into a grave. Richard definitely won’t understand Peter’s shame as his phone rings as his alarm went off. An alarm he set to go off to remind him to journal about his parents or Ben and May (although now it has an add on section of Life in Queens/My Earth).

And he knows he can’t tell himself “I’ll do it later” because he won’t. So here he is, putting away his study notebook and pulling out his “memories” notebook as he likes to call it. And while he was doing that, Richard was paying full attention to him. Couldn’t he at least pretend he wasn’t watching his every move?

That was going to make this soooo easy. He decided might as well not write about his parents today and instead about May. He’s tried to avoid writing about her since the memory of her death was still so vivd, but he thought, if his not-dead-dad is right in front of him and doing fine, might as well rip one band-aid off and finally write about her.

He picked the time Tony took his suit away. How angry May was for disappearing, but that anger was quickly replaced with concern and care when she saw how crushed Peter was. He didn’t deserve her. She didn’t deserve to die the way she did. “Are you okay?” Richard’s voice said in a quiet tone. Like he didn’t want to frighten Peter.

“I’m fine.” Why? He wasn’t crying. He wasn’t sniffling. He knew his composer slipped a little but not enough that one should notice a depressed kid underneath. So he looked at Richard, studying him right back. He knew about his own mom and dad. They were CIA agents that worked closely with Shield. Fury told him. So now he’s wondering if this world’s Richard Par- Grayson is involved in something like that.

But he quickly threw those thoughts out of his mind as he continued writing. Trying to remember how May held him as they sat on the couch that night, watching a movie together in silence but with the comfort of the other. “What’s that notebook for?” Richard’s voice pierces through the fog he was trying to create. How many times is this going to happen?

He was about to respond, but then paused. How would one respond to that? He can’t say: I’m writing about the memories I had with your dead sister-in-law because I feel an immense amount of guilt for killing her. It wouldn’t come out well. In a panic to say something to not look like he’s debating lying, he came out with, “This is for writing memories of everyone whose died around me so I don’t forget them.”

…

. . .

.                 .                 .

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? THAT WAS THE NEXT BEST THING YOU COULD THINK OF?!

Peter felt his whole face heat up in embarrassment as the two fell in silence, so he quickly averted his gaze back into his notebook, lifting one of the ends to cover his face. How could one fuck up this badly? This wasn’t even Parker luck, this was his own stupidity. Oh, how he wishes the ground would open up beneath him and gobble him up.

When there was no more sound, Peter peeked over the edge of the notebook, seeing Richard having a look of understanding on his face. But why? Peter tried to remember some things he’s read about this universe’s Richard. He was about to read an article on how Richard met Bruce and remembered the headline: Flying Grayson’s Tragedy Leaves Son as Only Survivor.

Oh.

He thinks he gets it.

Peter ducked his head behind the notebook again, closing his eyes and feeling different emotions. This time in shame and a sense of his own understanding. He opened his eyes and was faced with the words he just recently wrote down.

While I already knew she would be there for me, it was nice having the physical reminder of her arms showing me just how true that was.

Wow, since when did he write such complex and deep sentences? Maybe it’s what grief does to someone. But now he doesn’t have anyone. He killed the last person who was a safety net to him. A true safety net. Not a fake one like Mysterio, or heck even Tony (although his does miss him), but someone who he could rely on no matter what. And then he allowed Dr. Strange to erase everyone’s memory of him. For their protection.

He promised to tell them, promised to make them remember. But he lied. He didn’t want to put Ned and MJ in danger again. He didn’t want to put anyone in danger. Anyone who got close to him. Who knew him. They all have the fate of death.

He slapped his notebook closed, stuffing it in his backpack and quickly standing up. Richard was watching him this whole time, yet somehow still looked to be in his own world. He stood up along with Peter, a slightly confused look on his face.

“I should get going,” Peter rushed out, looking at his dad’s face again. Really taking a good look at him. He looked around the same age as the pictures Ben gave him, but he already made that observation once before. His build was different. This Richard had obvious muscle on him, yet still looked lean. Looked like the gymnast he very much still is and trains as if Peter had to guess.

His dad however looked like your average citizen. He had muscle, yes, but they weren’t as defined as Richard’s. He bets his dad would actually beat Richard in a fight though. CIA agent, remember. But still, the similarities were still there. So vivid even when he only had pictures. So clear.

A clear sign. STAY AWAY!

He can’t get close to anyone. He can’t ruin anyone else’s life. The family this man has, he can’t ruin them. Can’t take away one of their members. He swore to himself then and there that he would stay as far away from the Waynes as much as possible.

Before Richard could respond to his farewell, if that’s what you could call it, Peter bolted out the door.

He had Karen and Archie. He would be fine. And he had Spider-Man. He would be fine.

Chapter Text

After his quick little freak out, he decided he needed to go somewhere to calm down. Or do something to take his mind off of it. It shouldn’t be too much of a surprise that he found himself at the library. He made his way to the computers, the pathway becoming a very normal path for him. It was as he was putting his backpack down on the ground that he remembered what happened last time.

His computer shut down and Archie disconnected from the computer, making him flee in worry that someone tried back-hacking him. He was left staring at the screen in front of him, a bubbled floating around the screen the save it from a screen-burn imprint. He sighed and lifted his backpack into the seat he just occupied as he got up and headed to the front.

If someone tried to back-hack him, it wouldn’t be safe to use Archie from now on. If he wanted to use the computer, the only way to use it would be is with a library card. He’s still going to try to use Archie today to see if it really was a hacking attempt, but if it is, he’ll need a library card to use the computers for when he comes back. Because he’ll be coming back anyways. Investigating whose hacking him and why and all that jazz.

When he got up to the front desk, the lady that always waves to him when he leaves is sitting there looking surprised at his sudden appearance. Now that he’s actually at the desk, he can get a better look at her. She wasn’t sitting in a chair, but sitting in a wheelchair. Her legs were covered by a blanket, her hands paused above the keyboard.

“Hi, sorry to bother you, but I was hoping to get a library card,” he said, fidgeting with his fingers a little.

The women, Barbara by her nametag, put on a surprised face. But there was something about the form of her face that he didn’t believe. Like a muscle being forced into that position instead of naturally going there. He shook the thoughts from his head as she spoke. “You don’t have one? With how often you come in, I thought I just forgot giving you one,” she said, finishing her statement with a laugh.

Questioning him. That’s what he got out of her questions. “No, I would only come in to read but never planned to take any books so I never got one. But I was hoping to use a computer today, so” he said. He faded off the last part, not really knowing how to continue without rambling.

“Oh, I see.” A disbelieving tone. I mean, ya, it’s obvious he lied. If she went around watching to make sure no one damaged anything or was behaving incorrectly then she would’ve seen him on the computer. But it’s not like she’s going to call the police on him or anything. Or maybe he should rethink that with being in Gotham. He’ll take his chances though. “Okay, so all I’ll need from you is an ID and I should get that squared away for you.”

He reached into his pocket and grabbed his wallet, taking out his ID and handing in to her. When she read it over, her eyes genuinely got wide this time. Wait, how did he know it was genuine? He continued to mess with is fingers, running his thumb nail around his other hand’s nail. She froze for a second before returning to the computer, her face still slightly shocked.

“Okay Parker, you have a basic account right now. It just has you general information I got off you’re ID. When you log into the computer, It’ll bring you to your library profile, so you update or add anything you need!” she said, trying to put on a cheerful tone.

Peter tried to send her a thankful smile, but he’s almost 100% sure it came out forced. Well, takes one to know one, so he’s not too concerned about that. He put his ID and new card into his wallet as he took up his seat at the computer, Archie connecting to the computer and booting it up. This time, he decided to look at the profile he made on the free-lance work website.

His account got approved so he can now get hired for random jobs people are looking for. He’s pretty sure this is for gangs to hire one-time lackys for drug runs or something, but he specifically put on his profile ‘NO ILLEGAL JOBS.’ He doesn’t know how well that’ll do, but oh well. He can only pray.

He also put down things he’s good at or important information someone might need. Math and science, working with his hands, strong, stuff like that. He’s mostly looking for people who might need help with rebuilding something or tutoring, which he also put down, but once again, he can only pray.

Another side of this website is people putting up job offers that you could apply for. So you can both be seeked out for a job or seek one out yourself. And because he kind of needs to build a reputation for himself, he decided to start looking for jobs. He put building in the search bar, and before it could load, his screen turned black again, Archie running across the table and up his chest in the blink of an eye.

For a second time, he snatched up his backpack and made his way towards the entrance. He passed by rows of bookshelves before he found the one he usually turns down that’s a straight shot of the entrance. When he turned around the corner, he ran into the body of someone else turning the corner, feeling himself stumble back slightly at the impact.

He quickly looked down to apologize for not watching where he was going, and when he found the boy he ran into sitting on the ground rubbing the back of his head, he all but panicked. “Oh my gosh! I am so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going,” he said as he rushed to help the boy up.

The boy was lighter than he expected and he almost lifted the boy up with how light he felt. The boy was surprised but quickly brushed it off. “It’s all good. I wasn’t watching where I was going either. I should be the one apologizing.” Peter shook his head immediately and was about to disagree, but the boy held up his hand to stop him. “Let me be the one to apologize. Are you hungry?”

Peter was about to shake his head again, when his stomach growled. Wow. That traitor. He’s been somewhat starving for almost two weeks and it chooses now of all times to grumble. He gave a sheepish smile to the boy who gave him a teasing one in return. When the boy turned towards the entrance of the library, Peter decided it would be better to follow and get a meal than be stubborn and refuse. Plus it was a way for him to get out of the library. So a win-win in his mind.

---

When Barabra had a secret little talk with him about what he saw one night and begged him to keep it a secret, he agreed all too easily. A secret case? To keep from the rest of the batfam? Obviously he’s going to agree.

As soon as he saw the kid’s face that night, he immediately thought back to the night his parents took him to see the Flying Graysons. He thought back to the face he saw swinging along the trapeze or getting tossed around by his parents. He thought back to the crying scared and horrified face of a young Richard Grayson as he saw his parents fall from such a height that it killed them.

There were slight differences of course. The boy’s eyes were a dark brown instead of the striking blue Dick had, and his hair was a simple dark, medium brown color unlike Dick’s jet black hair. But everything else he could see with the night lighting made him look like an exact copy. His face shape, his nose, heck, even his build is the same even for someone so much younger.

He clocked Barabara’s weird precautions about the boy as soon as she spoke of them, so he wasn’t surprised she saw the same thing. He was surprised however when she told him that she saw him earlier in the day. He came to library and apparently hacked one of the computers for 5 hours without it being traced.

So a couple days ago, she asked him to come to library and watch out for him in case he came back. Babs was so kind to set him up in the janitorial closet when he suggested to try and back-hack whatever computer the kid gets on if he does come back. She also gave him a comm, even though he suggested she shoot him a text, but no, she had to be extra.

It didn’t work out so well last time, so now he was in the library everyday, waiting for the kid to come back so he could try again. He was already setting up some new codes into all the computers that’ll allow him internal access if another source overrides the main codes of any of the computers. A simple task but one that took time.

Babs gave him a layout of the computers with numbers to identify which is which, so when the kid sits down, he’s not going through each computer to find which one the kid is on. Buy some sheer coincidence, as soon as he finished applying the code to all the computers, Babs informed him that the kid just walked through the door. “He just sat down at computer 12.”

Tim pulled up a screen mirror for that specific computer and sat in silence while the screen saver moved around. “I have the visuals of his screen up right now,” he relayed. As much as he likes working in silence, he knows Babs wanted updates on what he finds.

The screen still had that bubble moving around for a while. “Babs, do you need your eyes checked because nothing is coming up for me.”

“He’s walking towards the front!” she whisper-shouted before turning off their com. He transferred his screen to the cameras feed set inside the library, zooming in on the one with the front desk. There wasn’t any audio, so he couldn’t tell what they were talking about. At some point, he handed over his ID. Babs froze for a second, and while she moved towards the computer, she angled his ID towards the camera, allowing him to zoom in even more and see what she wanted him to see.

When he was able to get a clear image of the ID, he understood why she froze. Shit, he would to. Parker Peter Grayson. The name on his ID. 17 years old, almost 18. That means Dick had him when he was 5?! He would usually make a joke about how he’s got a freaky ass brother, but this definitely didn’t add up for that to be true.

There were a number of reasonings behind this. Parker could be a clone of Dick, but they also used someone else’s DNA; his actual child time-traveled to the past before he was born; or he has the meta-gene where he either has a sped up growth period or can stop time but still physically grows within in. This just leads to more questions like his ID being fake and when he was actually born. Heck, he could even be an alien look-alike.

He shook all these theories out of his head when he saw Babs hand the ID and new library card to Parker who then walked back towards the computer. Tim was ready to call it quits since he has a library card now, but he decided to stay and see what Parker would do. What he might change on his profile or what he might look up.

He saw the mouse arrow appear on the screen, pulling up the guest log-in screen, but as soon as it was brought up, it went away. The screen went black. Again?! He tried to see if there was any coding that wasn’t visible on the sreen like before but nothing came up. The kid didn’t even pull up the schematics to even begin coding to find a back door to the log in. “His screen just went black again! He’s not using the library log-in.”

Before she could even respond, a message popped up on his own monitor. It was telling him there was unseen activity taking place on computer 12, but his screen was still black. “No, his screen is working. And it’s on that weird interface that I talked about last time,” she whispered. That won’t do. He is not proud to admit it took him an hour to finally find a crack in the coding that he believed wouldn’t shut down the kid’s codes this time. He was able to bypass another, weaker firewall set up and was able to see what was on the kid’s screen.

“He’s on a free-contracting website? Why would he need to hack into a library computer to be on that? Unless it’s for illegal activity.” He couldn’t question it too long or even watch long enough to find an answer because the screen went black again immediately before loading back to the guest login screen. On his other monitor, there was a message blinking on the screen reading: 3^rd times the charm!

What. The. Fuck. No way he got out-coded. He doesn’t believe it. Babs was whispering questions into his ear, partially cussing him out as well. The same thing that happened last time apparently spooked the kid because he abandoned the computer and started fast-walking towards the front of the library.

Tim was going to intercept. Obviously. Babs didn’t agree yet was telling him every time he made a turn. Tim went down one of the aisles, hoping he’d cut off the kid before he could get past him. And luck seemed to be in favor as the kid tried turning into the aisle as soon as he was reaching the end.

Hurrah! Although not really hurrah because knocking into the kid sent Tim flying back. Not only does his butt hurt from the impact, but his head knocked onto the floor pretty hard as well. Is he a tank or what? “Oh my gosh! I am so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going,” Parker said, eyes wide with panic and concern.

The more Tim looked at him, the more he saw a mini-Dick. His eyres were lighter than last night, along with his hair, but once again, everything else was an exact match to the young Dick he remembers watching from the stands.

Tim couldn’t help but internally cheer at the opportunity that just landed in his lap. “It’s all good. I wasn’t watching where I was going either. I should be the one apologizing.” The kid shook his head immediately and was about to disagree, but Tim stopped him before he could even begin. “Let me be the one to apologize. Are you hungry?”

The kid’s stomach grumbled in response, and he looked up with a sheepish smile. Tim couldn’t help but grin at this victory. Babs was still whisper-screaming in his ear about keeping a distance. “Don’t get him involved before we know he has to be!” She was insisting, but he quickly turned off the comms while making it seem like he was scratching his ear.

He turned to lead the boy out of the library, already having the perfect restaurant in mind.

---

Peter should mention that while he did his house hunting, Karen was reading off some of the things Archie found, specifically on the heroes and vigilantes of this city specifically. Here’s what he’s come to learn:

-Batman started out as an urban legend. He has since been seen so much that many believe him to be real. The only reason why some still believe him to be a myth is because nobody has got a picture of him. There are drawings, sure, but that’s it. No pictures of the man himself.

-As mentioned before, he has a flock of child-heroes who go through an initiation of the Robin mantel before becoming their own hero. Peter has some concerns, but yet he couldn’t say much about it because look at him. Started when he was 14.

-Nightwing is in and out of Gotham, switching between cities. He was the first Robin. Fan favorite. Probably the most popular. Known to be charismatic and quick-witted.

-Red Robin, who he met last night, was the third Robin. Second Robin is known to be deceased and killed by a villain with the name of Joker. Wonderful. Red Robin patrols around Gotham a lot, mostly doing detective work but helps out the little guys when no investigations are going on.

-Spoiler was the fourth Robin for a bit before turning into Bat Girl. There was another Bat Girl before her but she got in some accident and hasn’t been seen since. Spoiler was only Bat Girl for a little bit as well before becoming Spoiler. Apparently a gossip girl who’s seen teasing the other members of the Bat Clan.

-Black Bat is another urban legend, this one actually being considered a fake. Few stories about them, mostly just being about a black blurr that’s definitely not Batman.

-The current Robin. Many believe him to be 10. Sounds super stuck up and posh and is ruthless with his fighting style. Not much description of him other than his demeaner which many dislike.

The reason why this is all coming to mind now is because the boy who is using food to apologize to him brought him to a burger place themed after the vigilantes of Gotham. It is oh-so-cleverly named: Bat Burger.

Peter wanted to laugh at the ideocracy, but the proud look on the boy’s face made him hold it in. When they walked in, the boy asked him to go sit in a booth while he orders them food. He picked a booth that looked out one of the windows. He liked to people watch, and he didn’t know how this interaction would go, he decided to give himself something to do if they ever had to sit in silence.

It didn’t take long for the boy to come back with a tray full of food. When he sat down across from Peter, he didn’t reach for any food, just sat there and stared at Peter. Analyzing him. Many others have done it before. Tony does it a lot more than he thinks. But just because it happens a lot doesn’t mean he likes it. So he stares right back.

The boy immediately quirks his lip in slight amusement before grabbing the burger closest to him. Peter reaches for his own as the boy takes a bite at his burger. As soon as he takes his own bite, the boy swallows and asks, “so, kid, what brought you to Gotham?”

He choked on his burger. He wasn’t expecting that kind of question. He should’ve guessed it was coming sooner or later knowing that his accent was different than the regular New Jersey one that many Gothamites acquire. “First off, I’m not a kid. I’m eig-” he hesitated slightly. He lied on all his forms saying he was currently 17 to be a normal highschooler. “seventeen. Although I’m turning eighteen soon. Also, I had to move because I had nowhere else to go.”

Not a total lie. He was forced to be here and didn’t have the proper means to get to Queens. And even if he did, he doesn’t think it’ll be as welcoming as he’d hope. The boy spoke up again, “Okay, so you’re not a kid even though you are a minor, and you had nowhere else to go except the city with the highest crime rate in the world, is that correct?”

“I’m almost 18!” he retorted. The boy laughed at his frustration, making Peter even more upset.

“Okay kid, I obviously can’t keep calling you that or you’re probably going to punch me in the face. What’s your name?” He asked, taking another bite of his burger.

“Parker,” he answered. Although Peter could tell the boy seems trustworthy, what with him buying him food and stuff in a city like this, he couldn’t trust himself. He couldn’t trust his luck. He made a promise when he asked Strange to do the spell a second time. Don’t get involved in other’s lives. It’s why he wasn’t planning on telling MJ or Ned about him when they forgot.

Tim looked at him as if he was expecting more. His last name? Who asks for his last name at a first time meeting? Maybe Gothamites are all careful about who they meet. No harm in that he guesses. “Parker Grayson,” he says, pausing a little at the boy’s reaction.

Maybe he was getting too used to other pausing at his last name at this point, but the boy in front of him didn’t seem phased at all. In fact, his response was to reach a hand over the table and shakes his hand while introducing himself. “I’m Timothy Drake, although everyone calls me Tim. Nice to meet you, Parker Grayson.”

The boy got a little shocked at his own little to no reaction. Was he someone famous that people are usually surprised to be in presence. Rich people. But he let the thought once again escape him. They ate in silence for a little bit, Peter not realizing how many burgers he’s eaten but Tim taking it all in. “So, Parker, if you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing for school? Are you going into your senior year?”

Peter swallows the first bite of his sixth burger, wiping his mouth before answering. “Ya, I applied to Gotham Prep through the Wayne Internship. I’m waiting for the test date to see if I get in.”

Tim seemed to lighten up at that. “Gotham Prep? I go there! I can help you get in,” he said.

The reminded Peter of someone else who said that not too long ago. And two things Peter found wrong in that short answer. “If you’re in high school yourself, you had no right calling me kid! How old are you?”

Tim immediately had a guilty look on his face. “I just turned 18, so I have every right to call you a kid! I’m an adult and you’re a minor, so ha!” They playfully glared at each other for a while, neither breaking eye contact for a while.

Peter finally relented and looked away before pointing an accusing finger at Tim. “And isn’t you saying you’d help me get in admit to wanting to help me cheat? I’m not for that.” Peter ended his statement by biting into his burger, showing he was done talking.

“I’m not saying I’ll help you cheat, I meant I’ll help you study,” Tim replied lazily, as if it were obvious. Maybe it was. Maybe he’s too stuck on the conversation he had not even 24 hours ago with his not-dad.

“Thank you, but I think I’m good,” he replied.

The boy across from him just sat and stared at Peter. Analyzing him once again but not trying to hide it this time. Peter gave a questioning look to him, wondering what Tim could be searching for. “You’re not from here are you?” he asked, a serious and slightly accusing tone to his voice. He kind of sounded like Tony when he was trying to show someone he knew they were hiding something. Plus he already knew Peter recently moved to Gotham so he’s definitely asking something else.

He decided to laugh it off. The air around them became too serious too quickly. “I mean I wouldn’t be applying for a scholarship for a senior year of high school if I was. I moved here from Queen’s if the accent wasn’t noticeable.” He made sure to push his accent a little bit more. His accent is actually on the weaker side if he’s being honest. But even without his accent, the way he talks is still vastly different than the heavy New Jersey accents Gothamites use. Wait, was a New Yorker’s accent different in this world?

Tim didn’t seem to mimic the lightheartedness Peter was trying to set. He continued his starting. His analyzing. A quiet questioning if you will. “Parker, how do you feel about gold diggers?” What? What kind of question was that?

He had to take a moment to collect himself after that. “Well, I mean one can see two different perspectives of it. One could be poor and trying to find someone rich to secure their future while the other is just money hungry. There’s always diff-”

Tim put his hand up to cut him off. “In friendships Parker. If someone is trying to be friends with someone else to use that person’s money.”

Another pause. Very weird specificatoin. But he can also see how it’s probably a silent issue. Romantically it’s more relevant but many don’t think about it in a friendship sense unless they’re actively in it. “I never really thought about that before.”

Tim, although slightly, relaxed in his seat a bit more. Is he some kind of well known rich kid? He should really look into the Elites of this world. But why is he questioning that? Technically, he didn’t even want to come here. Tim dragged him here as an apology for running into him. Even though it’s Peter’s fault.

“Honestly, I can’t see any good reason for that. A friendship is about being a close trustworthy person to someone else.” He lied to Ned and MJ. “It’s about being there for them in their toughest times.” He wasn’t even the one to save MJ. “It’s about giving your all to help them and keep them safe.” He dragged them into his mess and barely tried to stop them. “If you’re friends with someone just to take, you’re not a friend at all.” Maybe he is a gold digger. Not in the monetary sense but in every other way that counts. He always put Ned and MJ in danger and lied to them. And he couldn’t protect them.

He couldn’t read Tim’s physical response because he was so caught up in his own head, blindly grabbing another burger and mindlessly biting into it. It was when the boy cleared his throat that he focused again on the present. Tim opened up his mouth to say something else when his phone went off. He gave an apologetic look before reaching into his back pocket to answer.

“Hello to you to,” he said in a very unpleasant voice after a beat of silence. He could technically listen in on the conversation, but he wanted to focus on his burger. “I’m a little busy rig-” more silence. He then gave a quick glance Peter’s away before immediately whisper-yelling; “No! Why would you think that?” He then rolled his eyes. “No I’m no- … It’s the middle of the day. … Jason can suck a dick. … Fine! Tell Alfred I’ll be home in 15.” He then quickly stuffed his phone in his back pocket, once again looking apologetic to Peter. “I’m so sorry but I have to go.”

Peter stuffed the rest of the burger in his mouth before nodding in understanding. He could guess it’s something to do with his family but wasn’t 100% sure. Maybe it was some friend drama. Maybe that’s why he was asking about gold digging friends. That would make sense.

Tim waved goodbye as he ran out, leaving Peter sitting in front of seven more unfinished burgers. He couldn’t have eaten that much if there was this much left right? We shrugged the thought away before digging in.

(He ate a total of 9)

---

Dick was sitting in Tim’s desk-chair when the younger boy got back. He immediately stopped in the door, looking like he was trying to figure out what he did wrong this time. Dick could see his eyes glance at the giant screen behind him. A file he just recently read through. A file Tim was trying to keep away from Dick. A file on Parker.

Tim looked back at Dick, a guilty look on his face. “Tim. Mind telling me why you have a file on a random citizen?” Dick stayed sitting in the chair, his voice even and careful as he watched Tim closely.

He continued standing in the doorway, scratching at the back of his head. “Babs saw him in the library and then I found him sleeping on top of a roof so we’re looking into him out of concern! Nothing more! Promise!”

Dick leveled him with an unimpressed look. “Then why does it have a section titled: Origins? with guesses like time travel; growth or time power; and my personal favorite: alien/super.” There were other theories in there as well like Dick’s secret love child or a clone, but he didn’t want to start a talk like that with Tim.

He had questions of his own. After he saw the kid run away the first time, he genuinely thought he was just scared of meeting someone as famous and powerful as the Dick Grayson. But when he looked back on it, there was more to it. He can recall the look of recognition along with disbelief in the ki- Parker’s eyes. It was more than that. But what.

Tim seemed to also be in thought after Dick’s observation, although for a different reason. He looked like he was trying to come up with excuses. He ridiculed himself internally as he watched Tim struggle to find an answer.

He sighed, pushing himself out of the chair and moved to sit on the edge of the bed just a couple feet away from the giant monitor. He patted the space next to him, signaling Tim to come and sit in that spot. Once he did, they both sat in silence for a little bit, staring at the wall in front of them. “Tim. I know why you’re doing this.” Tim stiffened beside him. “I’ve met him twice already.” Stiffened even more. “Just leave it, okay? I’ll look into it, but I don’t want him getting dragged into this unnecessarily.”

Tim seemed to lose all tension at that. He mumbled out a quiet “Me to” before sighing and flopping back onto the bed. Dick followed soon after, turning his head and watched as Tim spaced out looking at the ceiling. “He’s suer smart you know,” he continued on. “He’s been able to hack into the computers at the library to this weird interface, but not to do anything illegal. He’s just doing like normal people things. He’s buying things for a house, getting jobs. I don’t know he’s hacking into the computers to do it instead of just using the computers as they are.”

Tim continued on a rant about Parker’s potential and his skills surpassing both his and Bab’s. Dick listened with both attention and fondness. He knew Tim could get passionate about cases in an unhealthy way, but sometimes when Dick watches Tim be in the zone, it reminds him of a younger kid passionate about a specific interest and it always made him feel warm inside.

They promised to keep an eye on Parker and help him navigate High School once he got in (it was obvious he was going to get it). They also promised to keep this between them and Babs. Why risk telling the other when they want to keep him out?

Neither of them had patrol that night and most of the others were out of the house for patrol or other reasons, so Alfred was the only one who was able to see them asleep in each other’s arms. He promised their sleeping forms he wouldn’t tell a soul, even if he has a new picture in his phone.

---

Peter decided tonight that Spider-man was going to do something different. He’s been going around helping minor mishaps and occasionally stopping a drug exchange between gangs, but he got some information last night that he needed to poke his head into, as badly as that usually goes.

He doubts the bats know about it since nothing has been done yet. While intercepting a drug mule from selling drugs, he overheard something concerning. “You better not fuck this up tonight. If you don’t get rid of everything and the money doesn’t match up, boss-man won’t be happy. It’ll be your fault if this deal goes badly.” He also made sure the kid turned himself into the police as a form of protection in case the guy was going to look for him to hurt him.

So, a deal’s happening soon, maybe even tonight, and showing their drug runs are high-selling and run smoothly are important. It could just be whoever the boss-man is trying to look good or seem like they have more control, but if his senses are correct in gut-feelings, then it’s a big meeting between what Gothamites call the Rouges Gallery. Very, very important indeed.

He started his night by going to where he knows most gangs hang out, hoping to over-hear something about a meeting going on soon. The bits and pieces of information just confirmed his thoughts on it being a Rogue Gallery meeting. He was still snooping around, stopping the occasional mugging along the way, when he heard some men talking in a nearby corner. He jumped up on one of the roofs, peering over to see if he can get an identifier for which gang their in if they’re in one.

They each had a patch on a leather jacket, the patch looking eerily similar to the bat’s logo. Did he not trademark it? There was a slight difference in the shapes. Or more so an add on. On the bottom part of the simple bat silhouette, there were four vertical lines, making the image as a whole look partially like a skull.

Was the leader trying to get the bat’s attention to fight him or something? He’s seen the leather jackets around but assumed they were normal Gothamite night-goers. But now he’s second guessing it because he does in fact remember small red patches located somewhere on the jackets.

“Do we know why he’s going this time?” one of them asked in an almost boorish tone. This guy was standing casually next to a dumpster, smoke in hand and occasionally swapping which leg he rested his weight on in a comfortable manor.

The other guy had his back rested on the wall, smoking his own cigarette. After he took the first iitial huff did he respond. “Janky believes he’s going for information. He’s not a broker so who knows why he needs it. We’re good on weapons and supplies so we’re good on that front.” Another puff.

“Does the Gallery know he goes for just information sometimes?” Standing asked.

Wall guy shrugged. “Aren’t they all. And even if they know it’s for a different reason than all of their, no one would dare lay hands on him. As much as him and the Bats go head to head, they still help him.”

Who is this guy? A Rogue the bats will help? He decided he’s going to keep an eye out on the Red Patches as he’s dubbed them in his mind. He was about to leave when a voice called out to him.

Behind! New! DUCK!

He immediately dropped his head down as soon as a gunshot rang out. He heard it pass above his head quickly before hitting the taller building wall in front of them. It didn’t travel as fast as a bullet would and didn’t pass through the air the same either, even though it was still at a dangerous speed. He quickly turned around, tense and ready to dodge if need be.

The man standing across from him still had the gun poised in his direction. He couldn’t see what his face looked like for his whole head was encapsulated by a round red helmet. It kind of looked like a man with a pill-head. “What pleasure do I owe that I have the Webslinger eavesdropping on my goons?”

Oh, so this is Red Patch’s boss. He glanced down at the man’s chest, and sure enough, there was the bat-skull design. It looked painted on the chest plate the man had on, covered slightly by the leather jacket he on. Is his schtick being a biker or something? Is he like an unofficial part of the bats or something? Why would they allow a Rogue to join them and use their symbol? Is it like some kind of weird family dynamic?

Wait. What did he just call him? “I’m sorry, what did you just me?” he asked.

Pill head cocked his head to the side, showing his own confusion. “Webslinger?”

“Why are you saying it like it’s my name and not a nickname in like a mocking way?” he asked, a little scared of the outcome. He hasn’t really looked that much into the news recently, mostly focusing on getting his history of this world right and getting info on the Waynes.

“Isn’t that you name? It’s what everyone’s calling you. Wait, did you pick out a hero name but never told any one so the public picked one for you?” Pill head asked.

Fuck that’s probably what happened. He never thought about having to restate his name because he was so used to everybody already knowing who Spider-Man is, knowing that would stick around until after the memory wipe as well. He groaned his frustration, slapping his hand on his face and repeating “stupid, bad spider, you dumbass.”

When he finally collected himself, he looked back at Pill head, deciding he should introduce himself with his actual hero name. “As cool as Webslinger sounds, only my friends call me that. The name is Spider-Man!”

There was a short silence before Pill head responded. “Aren’t you a kid?”

“I’m a man!” he yelled out all to quickly. Even without seeing the man’s face, he could tell he was giving Peter an unimpressed look.

“Okay Spider-Boy. I like Webslinger better but whatever.” The man shrugged away the topic like it was unimportant. “You still haven’t told me why you’re listening in to my men.” It was then that he remembered the man still had a gun pointed at him.

“I heard some goons talking about a meet up for the Rogue Gallery and was trying to get more information,” he said. Usually he’d think of a lie to get himself off one of the bad guy’s radars, but if Pill head was working with the bats, he shouldn’t be in too much trouble for telling him his motive.

DUCK!

What the hell! He ducked in time while another gun-shot rang out. “What was that for!” he called out. Well, there goes the safety net of the bats.

“I’m part of the Rogue Gallery, dimwitt. Why would I not shoot at someone trying to interfere with the meeting?” Pill head said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. It kind of was, but apparently his hope outweighed his critical thinking.

“I thought you worked with the bats?!” he called out.

“That’s complicated. And even if I was on their side at the moment, they want you brought in, so I would’ve shot at you anyways, even if it goes against their ‘moral codes’ or whatever.” He could just hear him air-quote moral codes. Definitely family drama then.

Well, that didn’t make him feel safe right now at all. He knew to steer clear of the bats, but he thought they would respect that too if they just kept themselves apart.

DUCK!

 Again?! He ducked and rolled the side as multiple gunshots rang out, flipping around and dodging every single one. It was easier than usual since the bullets were just a little bit slower. Does physics work differently in this world? No, he would’ve felt it while swinging. What is it then? He only stopped when he heard a continued clicking sound coming from the gun. Out of bullets.

“I think it’s safe to assume you don’t want me here. Bye Pill Head!” he called out as he jumped off the building, connecting a web to a building to launch himself away from there.

As he connected his second web to a building, his senses called out again.

Catch!

Catch? Catch what? His web snapped, broken by a bullet that came from the building top. Oooh, catch himself. He quickly connected another web to a dimly lit light post, crouching on top of it to keep his body-mass centered.

When he looked up, Pill head still had the gun pointed at him from the distance and took another shot. Except this time, he didn’t dodge. With the slower speed and his quick reaction time, he was able to catch the bullet. And while it burned his fingers a little, he was finally able to see what the man was shooting. Rubber bullets! Cool!

Pill head was standing on top of the building, his body language portraying his shock. As much as his senses were literally screaming at him to run and escape he couldn’t help but laugh in the man’s face. This seemed to bring Pill head out of his head as he straightened up once again, gun still pointed at him. “Unlike you, I know that name is just making a mockery of my protective helmet,” touchy subject it seems, “and my actual name holds importance to both sides of Gotham.” He waited in silence for a bit, trying to let suspense grow. “The name’s Red Hood.”

More silence. “But even you said it’s a helmet.”

Gunshot. He seemed to know Spider-Man would dodge it as he aimed at any place around him seemingly out of frustration. “What is it with bratty vigilante kids these days! It doesn’t matter! Don’t you know who I am?” With the gun still pointing at him, Red Hood put his other hand on his hip, very much contradicting the whole I’m an evil crime lord and you need to fear me persona.

“Look dude, I just moved here recently and I’m still getting accustomed to this place’s heroes and villains so don’t take it personal!” he called out, for some reason hoping to reassure a villain that their name does precede them, just not with him. For obvious reasons only he knows about.

Red Hood slapped his head, or helmet, with the hand that was resting on his hip, mumbling something about being too tired to deal with this today. “You know what, we don’t need to keep talking about this,” and another shot.

Peter shot off, swinging in between an alley further away than Red Hood seemed to expect. He thought he did a successful and quick get away, but when he heard a motorcycle’s engine rev up, he knew this might be tougher than expected.

Welp, he always loved a good chase for some reason.

Chapter Text

Peter should’ve guessed that a person, much less a morally questioning crime-lord, who uses a motorcycle as their form of transportation would know how to utilize the vehicle well.  For example: having boosters on it, mini guns he can fire, and his favorite ability, scaling a fucking building!!!

If they ever get on good terms, he’s for sure asking Pill Head (he decided to stick with the nickname) how he did that. To have wheels that withstand the friction and turn-ratio of moving that fast as well as suctioning to a wall. Maybe he should get his own motorcycle.

He was able to lose Pill Head two times before, using a tuck he had to slide under as a distraction to quickly shoot off in a different direction but was quickly found again because he’s never really worked in Crime Alley and didn’t know the ins and outs like Pill Head did.

The other time was actually through pure luck. He rounded the corner on one street and when Pill turned, there was a small puddle his tire ran through, making his front wheel hydroplane and made him shoot off into a nearby alley. He was able to catch himself though as he seemed to find Peter rather quickly.

Now he likes to think he’s pretty humble, but he must say he has applauded his stamina more than once. Right now, however, he was getting tired. Pill Head started shooting at him not too long ago, and while he wasn’t too concerned about getting hit by rubber bullets, it would still be a pain in the ass to deal with.

He was trying to figure out a way to lose Pill Head when he felt one of the bullets hit his right shoulder, hitting right where his rotator cuff is. He could feel his shoulder start to internally bruise from the contact, making it harder to move.

He swung around a corner, shooting up onto one of the rooftops and dropping down flat so his silhouette isn’t shown when Pill Head rounds the corner. As he laid on the grown, he gripped his shoulder tightly, trying to use the pressure to keep the swelling down. While swelling technically helps in the long run, he needs his shoulder as mobile as possible and having it twice its original size definitely wouldn’t help.

Hi! Shot!! Shot!!

He felt his ankle tingle a bit, quickly lifting his legs up as another shot rang out. He quickly jumped to his feet, looking over and seeing Pill Head with his gun once again aimed at him. Although this time there wasn’t any talking in between the shots.

Both parts of his senses – the talking and the tingle – kept him on his toes as the shots rang out one after another. If one were to be sitting at the edge of the building, it would look like Peter is trying to show of his acrobatics skills to Red Hood. His shoulder kept screaming at him whenever he had to use that arm if no other limb was available to hold him.

Behind! Duck! Hi! Friend! Duck!

What? He let his body be controlled by his senses as he simultaneously dodged a bullet aimed for his other shoulder and ducked out of the way of a body trying to kick him from behind?! What the hell?!?! He let his shock fade as he stood back up, no shots ringing out now as the person that came in from behind now stood in the way of Pill Head, facing Peter with a fighting stance.

And he didn’t seem happy about that. “Move! You’re in the way of my shot!”

The new person, who he’s quickly made out to be Red Robin with the few (many) quick encounters they’ve had, turned around, glaring at Red Hood through his domino mask. “What shot? He’s been dodging every single one.” Another shot rang out and Red Robin arched his back, his hand flying to his lower back and pressing into it hard. “What the fuck Hood!”

“Language.” Peter almost laughed as he and Red Hood said it simultaneously.

“We’re on the same side!” he started slowly stepping in a circle, his hand still pressed to his back.

“I didn’t agree to this you know!” Pill Head called out, his gun now following Red Robin. This interaction just made solidified that Red Hood does in fact have some sort of alliance with the bats, even if it’s not fully consensual.

Red Robin groaned out, still writhing in pain. “And you think I did? I was the closest one to you, Ass-wipe!”

You know what, that’s probably his que to leave. Looks like there’s some unresolved friction going on that doesn’t involve Peter’s terrible therapy advice. He slowly makes his way to the edge of the building, barely listening in to the two arguing.

When he looked back over at them, he saw the two literally bashing heads with each other and Pill Head yelling at Red Robin. “If you weren’t such a fucking twer-”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but as fun as this wasn’t, I think it’s my time to go,” he called out before leaping off the side of the building and shooting a web away, using his left arm to sling shot himself away. He could faintly hear them arguing with each other about letting him go instead of actually chasing after him, so he counts his escape as a win!

---

It took longer to get to his apartment than usual, trying to savor his other shoulder as he swung using his left arm only. “Karen, what’s my healing rate at? I just ate a whole lot of burgers so it should be up significantly.”

He couldn’t feel his swelling go down so he was thinking the injury might be worse than he originally thought. His body should be reacting to it rather quickly so it staying as swollen and sore as it is now, is quiet concerning. “The rate of your healing is at about 68%. A few burgers for one meal isn’t what’s going to bring your healing factor up. You need a healthy diet with lots of calories consistently.”

Peter internally sighed. If only it was that easy. He took for granted all the meal kits Tony sent to May for both of them, excusing them as a proper meal plan for Peter and his abilities. Or at least he thought they were an excuse. Apparently, it was the truth. Who would’ve known.

He continued swinging around, letting his right arm hang limply by his side. When he saw his apartment building in sight, he let out his sigh, but this one in relief. He went through the alley, sticking to the wall closest to his window and double-tapped the control pad, his suit being sucked back into Archie. His clothes fell free, looking a little wrinkled but nothing to be embarrassed about. There wasn’t anyone watching him anyways.

He slid his window up, crawling inside and all but jumping onto the bed right beneath him. He let out a groan as he felt something press into his back that wasn’t his mattress and blanket. He quickly crawled off the bed only to step on something else. He looked at the floor, quickly side-stepping all the broken wood by his bed. Wait. Broken wood? He looked back up on his bed and saw some of his trash littered there along with more broken wood pieces.

He followed the debris from his bed to the ground and out into his living space. His door was gone. His. Door. Was. Gone. Bits and pieces of it remained on the hinges but that was all. Actually, that’s a lie. His door wasn’t gone gone. Off the hinges gone, yes, but he saw his broken door laying peacefully by his dining room table that was flipped over.

His couch was torn through, his desk drawers were pulled out, some broken. His nightstand is what he landed on. He walked into his closet and saw his clothes thrown on the ground along with some of the shelves and, wait, drywall from the wall and ceiling?! What the heck!

He had a sneaking suspicion of what was happening. He continued looking around the apartment, seeing everything trashed (he knows they forcefully broke his plates because they were plastic and don’t break when crashing). As he got a better look of his apartment, his suspicion was becoming more and more fact. Someone broke in (that was obvious) but not to rob him. They were looking for something specific.

But what? He can’t think of anything he’s done that shows something of great need. Maybe his phone because it looks different? But that’s something so minute, how could someone trace him to this apartment just for that? Was it him specifically? But why? Is his theory of transporting into an already existing body true but the person he’s inhabiting is wanted by bad people?

He didn’t realize he was pacing and zoning out of his senses until he stepped on one of the wooden shards, a small piece sticking out of his heel. He limped his way to one of the only dinning-chairs still standing. He sat down and plucked out the wooden piece, throwing it on the ground out of frustration.

This day keeps getting better and better. He sighed, letting his head fall into his hands. He doesn’t know how long he stayed like that. All he knows is that when he heard strange noise, not from his neighbors, coming down the hallway and he stood up, his back was aching from arching over for a long time.

He continued to stand in silence as he heard the noise come closer, trying to listen in. His senses were already enhanced before, but not by much. Coming here definitely made it more obvious, but he still struggled with focusing in on certain noises or specific directions.

Heard someone sigh as they were walking, two more pairs of feet following them. “And how do you know we’re not following some absurd speculation?” he asked, sounding tired and angry. Not a good mixture.

One of the pairs of feet shuffled closer to the first guy, saying in a whisper Peter had trouble picking up. “If you s-    -icture, yo-        -all it a spec-    .” Pretty easy to decipher that. If you saw the picture, you wouldn’t call it a speculation.

The first guy groaned. “And you 100% believe Hunter?” the first guy asked. If Peter remembers correctly, Hunter was the name of the old man working the desk up front.

The second voice answered, voice clear this time as they were closer. “When has he been wrong?” They continued walking. Peter felt his muscles continue to wind up, ready to snap and flee if need be.

“Room 834?” first guy asked. Fuck. The second guy just hummed in response signaling the first guy was right. Fuck for sure. He quickly ran to his window, small stab and debris be dammed. He lifted his bedframe and took out his backpack before setting the bed back down and jumping out the window. He bought a second backpack two days after moving in, filling it with simple things he would need for going out but nothing too important. His original backpack held everything he needs and has kept it under the bedframe knowing it was too heavy for most to lift. Thank God for his paranoia.

When he jumped out the window, he jumped up and towards the roof of the building across from him, climbing up to the roof and once again, lying flat at the top to hide himself in case they take a glance outside.

He tried to keep his focus on the voices as he heard them walk into his room.

“Fucking hell! It’s a mess in here!” guy number one exclaims. “Weren’t our men supposed to capture him, not tear up the place?” So they’re looking for him specifically. But why?

“They reported they thought he was hiding within the building,” guy number two responded with a slight hint of fear in it.

“So they tear up and rip apart every inch of it? If he was gone when they looked, they should’ve kept it nice to not scare him off! We need to wait for him to come back and ambush him,” first guy said.

He heard them move towards the chairs he was just previously sitting on.

“He was here,” the third voice finally spoke up. It was in a gruff tone and horse, but not with lack of use. More like a sore throat or something.

“How would you know?” voice number two.

There was some movement before he spoke up. “This woodchip has fresh blood on it.”

Oh fucking hell! He can’t remember the last time he cussed this much internally, but this night seemed appropriate enough for it. He heard more movement in his apartment before the first guy yelled out “Find him! Now!”

Well, this was looking like it was going to be a long night. He groaned as he realized he’d need to look for shelter, preferably without a deskman who would sell him out for something he doesn’t even know.

---

It’s been two nights sleeping on rooftops again, hoping Red Robin doesn’t find him again, when he got a notification on his phone.

Nuance: you have 1 hire request!

Some money?! Yes please! He opened up his phone, going to the website and checking who wants to hire Parker Grayson. When he opened his Inbox, he had that one message sitting at the top. It read: DW requested to hire you for the following job: Tutoring! Tutoring? It’s summer. Unless it’s for summer school. He shouldn’t judge.

He opened the request, reading what DW wishes to study (science), his schedule, best learning methods, all that fun stuff. At the very bottom, there were two buttons he could press. Accept or Decline.

If he accepted, he’d have to leave in two hours to meet DW at the library, so right when it opens up. That’s the only downside he can think of because he didn’t have any other clothes with him at the moment and the ones he’s wearing are starting to stink.

It wasn’t much of an internal debate as he pressed Accept, sending a message to DW that he’s free all day and can help him study for as long as needed. He then picked up his backpack and made his way to the library.

It took probably around half an hour to get there so he waited on the rooftop. Let’s just say, it wasn’t as comfortable as the other roofs he’s slept on. It was slanted to a degree that could be considered unnerving, but he was able to stick to the roof where it wasn’t concerning at all.

He took the time waiting to look through his backpack to make sure he had things he might need for tutoring. His phone that he’ll try not to use, check. Empty notebooks he was planning to use for Spider-Man things, check. Extra pens, check. Even with how he’s on study/learn-mode almost all the time, he never really uses things to get a good experience of studying unless it’s in a lab. Even then, none of it was his own things.

He shrugged to himself as he zipped up his backpack and laid down along the roof. He felt the sun beating into his skin and his shoulder throbbing, although much better than two nights ago. He swears he wasn’t dozing off when Karen woke him up with one of the loudest alarms he’s ever heard. He quickly slides down the roof, sticking to walls as he pretended to parkour his way down to the ground. You never know whose watching.

He walked around to the front, pushing open the library doors and immediately feeling the warming system take effect. Even though he felt the sun on his skin doesn’t mean it wasn’t freezing outside. UV is a weird thing.

When he actually paid attention to his surroundings, he saw what looked to be a 12-year-old kid arguing with Barbara in hushed voices. He gave them a curious look before starting to walk over. His movement apparently caught Barabara’s eyes as they widened before turning back to the kid and very harshly whispering “He’s coming over. We’re talking about this later!”

What was that about? It took a couple more steps until he was there. “Hey Ms. Barbara-”

“Just Babs”

“Sorry, Ms. Babs-” she rolled her eyes, with a smile on her face, at this. “I’m going to be tutoring someone today and was wondering where it would be best to do so?”

Babs opened her mouth to answer but the kid in front of her beat her to it. “I’ll show you,” he said in a very monotone, polite sounding voice. He didn’t wait for any response as he started walking off. Peter turned towards Babs, questions swarming his head. She just let out a sigh before nodding towards the boy, a signal Peter took as it’s alright, go follow.

So he did. He had to walk quickly to keep up with the kid, following him up two flights of stairs and around what felt like the entire perimeter of the building. They finally ended up at a door with the number 12 on it. “This is study room 12. It’s always booked for me.”

Peter looked down at the kid. “If it’s yours, I don’t want to take it away from you. I don’t know how long I’m going to be here for. Plus, I need to go wait for the person I’m tutoring to get here so I can just ask Ms. Babs so it’s not any trouble,” he said.

The kid just gave him a blank stare. To try and ease the uncomfortable atmosphere, he pulled out his phone to check the website for any messages from DW. Nothing yet. He sighed before putting it back in his pocket. He looked back at the kid who was now eyeing his pocket. Right. Weird phone.

“You don’t need to wait on him.” The kid’s focus was now on him. His face went back to being blank.

“What? That would be rude of me to just leave. And I need to ge- wait. How’d you know it was a guy?” Oh no. Peter wants to just drop dead right now.

“Nice to meet you, Parker. I’m DW, otherwise known as Damian Wayne. I don’t have much time so I’m hoping we can accomplish a lot in a little amount of time. Is that okay?”

Not another Wayne. He really, really, wants to die right now.

Chapter Text

It was any normal day of snooping around his siblings’ room when he finally got to Tim’s. Damian likes to stay away from there as much as possible to not cause any more unnecessary drama than need be. As much as he dislikes Tim, he’s come to terms with keeping the pissing-him-off to a minimum only to cause the least amount of drama within the family. He knows they already have enough of that.

But he sneaked in anyways. He knows stuff is going on, and he knows Tim is either involved in it or is knows more about it than anyone. And Damian hates being let out of secret cases. So when he snuck in, he headed straight for Tim’s third monitor.

He kept all his secret stuff on his third monitor because it’s connected to a separate tower, holding more information, including his secret files. He didn’t have a password for this monitor because it would show he has something to hide, so it wasn’t that hard to access either. It wasn’t hard to find the file as it was the most recent one opened. It was titled: Parker Grayson.

Interesting.

It didn’t take much convincing (none at all really) for him to decide it was okay for him to open up the file. It didn’t have much in it which is a little surprising. There were legal papers that showed that this Parker Grayson is a real living person but nothing other than that. No yearbook pictures, no awards at any schools, nothing within the community. Just a very simple paper trail of legal papers.

There were things around now that had more evidence of his actually existing. For example, pictures from CCTVs from the library of this kid, though bad quality. A video of Tim finding him sleeping on a roof one night. And then there was a link Tim put as evidence of existence. He clicked it, taking him to a Hire Me website.

Not looking good so far because people usually use this site to freelance some drug runs or worse to get some quick cash. But looking deeper, he noticed that wasn’t what Parker’s page looked like. It was very obvious that he didn’t want to be hired for that kind of thing. If the NO ILLEGAL JOBS text as the first thing on his description wasn’t enough, then the detailed layout of his skills and how he wants to use them helps out. Basically, he’s willing to help others out with hard labor that’s - once again stated - not illegal, or tutoring.

Usually when he finds out something like a secret case and gets the details of it without permission, he’ll sit back and watch as whoever works on it try to dodge questions from the family. It’s fun.

But with this. This is something he feels compelled to work on. Definitely behind Tim’s back as well. And apparently Bab’s back too as there seems to be a lot of notes from her in this file. Mostly just what she’s seen from him at the library and the one-night Tim found him on the street.

There’s no profile photo on his profile (looking more deeper, he realized the website is called Nuance), so the only images that were kept in this file were those captured through videos. So far away making it bad quality, or too dark to make out most details.

When he realized there’s no clear pictures of this Parker Grayson, he made a hard (read: super easy) decision to meet him in person. So he did what anybody would do. Hire him. He decided to say for tutoring because it would be believable if someone around his age asked for school help instead of manual labor help.

With the request sent in, he clicked out of the file, set it back the way Tim does with erasing the time spent, and went down to the bat-cave to suit up for the night.

---

After the scolding from Babs getting interrupted by Parker and successfully leading him away from the overbearing women, Damian thinks this whole introduction thing is going well. The surprise factor, the forced interaction, the stress. Oh, how he loves testing others with uncomfortable situations.

Parker was standing in front of him with a look of dread on his face. “Damian Wayne. I thought you were like super smart or something. Why would you need tutoring? Especially in the summer?” he said, the confusion seeming to beat out the dread. Although another emotion started to take over the boy’s face. Anticipation. Although it wasn’t a good kind.

“I am. I am already completed most of my units for my GED. The only reason I’m still in school is for one more subject and to complete my elective units.” As much as he would like to say he said that as an excuse and already has all his credits, that is very much not true.

Parker looked a little stunned at the honesty too. Does he already have a reputation in Gotham as the untruthful son of Gotham’s prince? Just great.

Parker didn’t give him a look as if he disbelieved him though. Or really even surprised that a truth was said, which was Damian’s original though on his look. More just shocked at the situation. Well isn’t that disheartening. “What subject is that?”

As much as he wished it wasn’t true, the subject he still needed to finish was: “Science.” Parker’s eyes seemed to light up from that. Damian wanted to say he was surprised, but like father like son. Richard had an affinity for science, and that seemed to be the case with Parker. “I have an engineering class I can never pass because ‘don’t follow the teachings.’ Basically, I’m too smart for the class and they don’t like it.”

Parker’s eyes seemed to light up even more. Oh no. What did he get himself into. “Well science is my favorite subject. Although I’m studying bioengineering, I do know enough about technical engineering to help you.”

Bioengineering? That’s such a niche topic. Damian ponders on how the spark of such an interest came about as he opened up the study room. Parker easily walked in, completely different from the tenseness he had walking into the library.

As soon as Damian closed the door, Parker turned to Damian, looking like a completely different person. “So you said you were too smart for the class? What do you mean by that? Like how is it hindering you?”

“My answers and creations are “too advance” for the class and because of that, there’s no way to properly grade me.” It was so stupid. If there’s something that’s considered advance for the class, shouldn’t it be an automatic pass?

Parker nodded in understanding. “You think if there’s something that’s considered advance for a class, it should be an automatic pass, right?” What the fuck? How did he get that spot on? Erase that, it was obvious. Once again, like father like son.

All he could do is nod in response. Parker’s eyes lit up once again. “Well, that’s exactly your problem. How is she supposed to grade your understanding on one of the basic topics when what you’ve built or answered is something that doesn’t focus on that topic. You understand?”

He does, but at the same time he didn’t. “Wouldn’t they see that I already know the topics of their basic teachings if I’m presenting advance material?”

Parker shakes his head. “What if you're missing the actual basics? Imagine it like sports. I’ll use baseball as an example. Imagine you have this insane batter who keeps hitting balls out of the park. Home run after home run. But that’s all from strength and not from technique. One swing, his back snaps due to not knowing the basic techniques of swinging. Same with engineering. You might have something that in theory would work, but that’s only in theory because you don’t understand some basic structures of engineering that might seem obvious after learning them, but you wouldn’t know about them unless taught to you.”

Damn, this boy knows how to rant. And as much as he would hate to admit it, he understands. Damian didn’t know exactly what to say. There wasn’t really anything he needed out of this “tutoring session,” and yet he got the help anyways. But even then, they still have 50 minutes with each other. He debated interrogating Parker, but the kid looked smart enough (or psycho enough) to keep the topic on school and studying.

“Well, you seem to understand the importance of knowing the basics and why you should show you understand it. Is there anything else you need to study for or help understanding? There shouldn’t be much because school isn’t even in session yet.”

What? Parker is trying to end the study session. Saved him from looking like more of an idiot. “That’s really the only thing I can think of. I thought this would take more time. Seems like my time management needs some work. My father would like me home as soon as possible, so I might as well use this extra time to sneak around town and go shopping. I’ve been meaning to get some sweets, but Alfred is strict about diets, so now’s my chance to sneak it in.”

Parker’s little spark of study-time seemed to fade, back to timid, jumpy Parker. “You said you need help with time management. You want me to try and help you? I used to be shit-” wow; he curses? “But I’ve learned, and it’s helped me a lot!”

Wait. Why was it kind of depressing to see that spark go? “I just overestimated how much time this was going to take.” He headed for the door that he opened just minutes ago. He really over-estimated how much time this was going to take.

He kept the door opened to let Parker through. As the boy walked past him, another thought of how depressing he is pierced his head. Oh fuck it. “Parker. Would you like to join me if you have nothing else to do?”

That spark came back instantly, but still with some hesitation. He didn’t get much time to decipher since Parker quickly masked it with an overly positive smile and agreement. That’s some unboxing for another time.

---

If you’d ask Dick if he’d find himself at the library talking to his ex-girlfriend about his possible child, he’d tell you to go to Arkham because what kind of sentence is that? Yet here he is. In the library. Talking to Babs. About Parker.

“Tim has his suspicions. Mainly that he has the meta-gene, and it has something to do with time,” Babs says with a light chuckle to her voice. He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of his own.

They sat in silence for a little bit, as they mostly did this whole conversation. It was hard talking about a possible child. Especially when they don’t know the origin. Babs tried talking about figuring out a way to do a DNA test, but he quickly shut that down. Even if the kid wasn’t his, it was already in his mind to help him (take care of him).

“Babs. He doesn’t want to be around me. The two times he saw me, he ran. That’s got to mean something. Right? What could that mean?” The only response he got from her was a shoulder shrug. “That’s not helping.”

“I’m sorry Dick, but I really don’t have an answer.” She looked just as tired as he did, although probably for separate reasons.

He put his head in palms, rubbing his eyes before running his hands through his hair. What was he going to do? He knows the possibility of Parker being his son is low. What with him having to be a tween when Parker was born? No possible way. But there was something at the back of his mind telling him it’s his son. Urging him to take him in and take care of him.

“It’s physically impossible for me to stop thinking about him Babs. I can’t. He’s always on my mind and I don’t know what to do. I wish I could just take him to Bludhaven and help him, but I can’t. What if he has family here or something?” His mind started going down in a spiral about Parker’s situation and history and all the possibilities.

She let out a long sigh, seeming to debate something. Her mouth opened, then closed, then opening again, before closing one more time. “Just spit it out.”

“Tim was doing patrol one night and found Parker sleeping on top of a roof-”

“What?! And you never told me? Babs, we need to help him if that’s the case!” His energy seemed to come back tenfold.

“Calm down, he got a place like two days later or something. Tim tracked his activity and saw a purchase for an apartment. He’s got room and board.”

“But he’s by himself! He doesn’t have anyone to rely on. We need to get to him now!” He was pacing the place now.

“Against his will? That sounds a lot like kidnapping.” Another small little chuckle.

Dick shook his head, his body language all serious. “This isn’t funny. I need you to help show him that I’m not a threat or something to be scared of. I just want to help him.”

Babs’ face fell slightly as she watched him pace back and forth. “I know. But it’s going to take a while. Especially considering he just walked past you and scurried out the library as soon as he saw you.”

“What?” He spun around so quickly, only to watch as the doors close.

“But! He just left with Damian so that’ll probably help him view the family, hence you, in a good light!” she said, hoping that it might help relieve at least some stress from him.

“What?!”

Maybe not.

---

Damian piled the trash from his hands into Peter’s, pulling out a hand cloth from a hidden pocket and ever so gracefully wipe his hands. They just finished a burger from a retro styled restaurant, which they took to go. He offered they walked around the huge mall which Damian didn’t seem opposed to.

As they continued walking, he spotted a trash can up ahead and shuffled his feet to throw away the trash. Damian had bags hanging from his arms, swinging around with each stride the young Wayne took. Peter thought he would’ve been more so opposed to hanging out with a Wayne, much less the biological son of the Prince of Gotham himself. But something in him, probably his quiet senses urged him to befriend the kid.

When he shuffled back over to the boy, he turned towards Peter, that flat look on his face. From what Peter could tell, you can only read his emotions through his eyes. Tough, but nothing to back away from. His eyes seemed to portray a sense of complacency. “Parker. It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you the real reason I hired you.”

Ah, yes. The obviously hidden truth. Part of the reason he originally didn’t want to go out with Damian, but once again, those senses convinced him otherwise. “To meet you brother’s possible son? I figured.”

The first time Peter “read him” as he likes to call, Damian’s eyes showed slight shock, then understanding. It seemed to take that one time for Damian to understand the Peter can just read people easily, for now, he just nodded his head like he expected Peter to finish his thought.

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep this hidden from my family. I didn’t come to get answers. Just to assess you in case it was something that had to happen.” Truthful indeed. Although it looked like there was something else he wanted to say. So he kept quiet as they continued to walk to the exit of the mall. “You’d be welcomed with open arms. Maybe. I can think of only one person who might be opposed, but not because of you or who you might be. I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Big!

Big? What’s big? Is something big coming and they need to duck? No. He’s learned enough times that his senses would’ve told him to duck if that was case. Then what’s big?

He looked back down at Damian and saw slight color on the boy’s neck and ears. Oooooh. Big moment. For him. He probably doesn’t express stuff like this before. He couldn’t help but smile to himself. Oh how precious this boy looked right now. He couldn’t help but ruffle the kid’s hair just to tease him.

Damian sent a glare his way. So he’s not afraid to share his distaste for someone or something. Noted.

“Give me your phone.” What? Damian held his hand out, waiting for Peter to hand over his phone, probably not expecting a model that didn’t belong to this universe. “My arms starting to hurt.”

He sighed, pulling out his phone and putting it in the young Wayne’s hand. His eyes showed his confusion as he looked at the thinner phone. With Tony’s arc-tech, energy was more accessible, and technology started evolving faster and faster. The technology of this world wasn’t as advanced, leaving their phones chunkier than Peter’s.

He already logged into his phone so Damian just went straight to contacts and put in his number, leaving the contact as Damian Wayne. Simple. Demure if you will. “Call me any time you need anything. Or want to do anything. I’ll do the same back. Mostly for tutoring.” That got a chuckle out of Peter.

They both gave a simple goodbye as they parted ways, Peter just walking around. He started thinking about the stuff he left at the apartment and debating actually going back to retrieve them. He’s been out for what, two, three nights? They would wait at least two nights and when they see he’s not coming back, leave. Right?

He gave it that fuck-it mentality MJ tried teaching him about and headed back to his apartment. Maybe this wasn’t a case she would say fuck-it to, but it’s what he’s doing.

When he got into the building, he gave a glance to the old man at the reception, different than the one who used to always greet him, and gave a quick nod before going into the elevator. He clicked the 8^th floor and drummed his hands against his thighs to an imaginary song.

As the doors slid open to his floor, his senses went crazy.

Duck! Back! Attack! Dodge!

He felt the tingling near his head, so he ducked but listened to his senses and moved back as well. Someone lunged at him with a fabric bag, aiming for his head that was no longer there. He watched as the man’s eyes went wide from the body that was no longer there.

Another body entered the elevator, immediately going for Peter. He quickly dodged, pushing his way out of the elevator. He turned to his right, knowing the stairs were in the door next to the elevators. He pushed opened the doors, thinking about running down, but ultimately decided to go up.

Now, he usually gets pissed when characters do that in movies and shows, BUT he swears he has good reasoning! 1) he’s pretty sure the receptionists work for them, and 2) he remembered he got some cool new powers he wants to try and use.

He heard discombobulated voices below him, and he wanted them to follow him, so he looked over the railing with a scared look on his face. When they saw him, they immediately continued the chase. Peter sprinted up the steps, definitely using his strength to push himself up the stairs fasters.

As soon as he burst through the rooftop doors, he turned the corner on the other side of the door, and shut his eyes, praying that his plan works. He heard their footsteps get closer, his senses heightening but not alarming him of incoming attacks.

The people chasing him burst through the door, sprinting onto the roof. He didn’t hear any signs of them spotting him, so he quickly felt his way back inside the stairwell as the door slowly closed behind him.

He let out a long, quiet breath and opened his eyes. He looked down at himself, seeing that he was in fact visible now. It sucks that he’ll never get to see himself being invisible, but whatever.

He quickly but quietly went down the stairs, back to his floor. He put his ear on the door, listening to know if anyone else was on the floor waiting for him. When he got confirmation that it was all good, he opened the door, making sure it closed quietly.

He quietly sprinted to his room, ducking under the caution tape and looking through the debris of his apartment. He pulled some the things he initially came for (food), along with blankets, pillows, and anything else that could be used to make his sleeping situation comfortable.

Once he packed everything, he quickly webbed it to his back, pulling on his mask just to not give out his identity, and head out, going out the window he hasn’t really had the chance to get familiar with. Well, time to set out to find a new housing plan.

---

The first thing he sees when waking up is a dark room. He just laid there, staring at the dimly lit ceiling, the light probably coming from a window. Even though it felt like he came out of a deep sleep, he felt tired. He closed his eyes, hoping for sleep to find him again, and it did.

When he woke up again, the room was brightly lit. To a point it was blinding.

He heard a soft gasp beside him and tried to turn his neck to see who it was. It was at this moment he realized he couldn’t move his neck. He couldn’t move his body. What was going on?

A soft but rushing voice brought him out of this serious dilemma, making him focus on what was being said. “He’s up! His eyes are open, he’s looking around!”

Shuffling feat came rushing into the room, and a face peered over him, but he could already guess who it was. He recognized the voice. It was Pepper.

“Tony! Are you feeling any pain? Are you hungry? Thirsty? What can I get you?”

“As much as I love the attention, I need a recap on what’s going on.” He felt his bed start to move, shifting him into an upright position. The movement made him grit his teeth in pain, sensitive skin rubbing against things.

Pepper looked to her side, eyeing what he can now see is a small group of doctors and nurses. They gave a small nod, Pepper looking back at him. “What do you last remember?” It was said with a caution. Like she was scared of what the answer was going to be.

“Well, I remember doing a tug-a-war with a giant purple titan, but everything blanks out after that.” His head hurt even trying to think about it.

The doctor that was at the front of the herd stepped forward, getting more into his point of view. “That’s perfectly understandable. You went through a great trauma that effected your brain, along with the adrenaline pumping which has been known to make people go on autopilot.”

He wanted to nod in understanding but couldn’t. His eyes moved back to Pepper, watching her face. “Did we win? Did I do it?” She nodded with a soft smile on her face.

He felt his body relax, not even knowing it was tense. He looked at her again and realized there was still a deep sadness in her eyes. His own eyes must’ve given him away because Pepper looked away, seeming to want to say something. He saw the doctor nod out of the corner of his eye again. “Tony. You won’t be able to be Iron Man again. Your injuries are too severe, and you won’t heal properly.”

That wasn’t a problem. He already retired after the blip. He can do it again. His cabin with Pepper and Morgan. Maybe inviting his friends over sometimes. God knows he missed them even if he’ll never admit it. Maybe Morgan can meet Parker and Harvey now that he’s got them back. Get some protective big brothers or something. And he said as much. It wasn’t a problem.

“But it is,” she said with a quiet voice. “Tony. Peter’s missing. Stephen told he was taken while fixing up a situation that happened.”

What? No! That can’t be. He just got him back!

He doesn’t care if he can’t move. He has to visit that stupid doctor himself. To fix him up and to find Parker.

Chapter Text

After the whole fiasco of his old apartment building, Peter stuck strictly to staying in the alleys, crawling near the roofs of the building but not enough to be out of the shadows. He always kept his mask on in case he was spotted, along with throwing the people chasing him off his trail. Although it would be useless if they somehow figured out he was Spider-Man – or Web-slinger as they like to call him – and that’s why they’re chasing him.

He was debating where the find a place to live. Once he graduates, he’ll be able to apply to out of state, or just out of city colleges, and escape this place, but for now, he needs somehow to house him. For almost a year. Without any problems. Like that’s not impossible in this place.

He can’t stick to rooftops because of vigilante patrols. He can’t go in the alleys because of the constant need to keep an eye on his stuff. Can’t go back to apartments because there’s an actual reason why rent is so low. He needs something that can’t be found unless being found. Even with someone looking for him.

He kept calling walls, readjusting the straps of his web sack that held his Gotham-Life, and continued towards the west. At least according to Karen. It felt like forever until he came upon a bridge. A long bridge reached across, about the length of the Golden Gate Bridge. Karen pulled up a simplified map of Gotham, showing that the bridge he’s looking at connects the island that Gotham is, to the sliver of mainland that is also considered Gotham.

Most of that is just forest and rich people’s houses. Probably where his not-Grandpa lives with his clan of non-biological (except for one) not-uncles/aunts. He let out a long sigh before leaving the shadows of the alleys and walking towards the bridge. He looked around to see if anyone was watching, and when he only saw a couple cars entering or exiting the bridge, he deemed his idea a good one.

He started walking down to the edge of the scenery, looking out at the expanse of water separating the mainland from the bustling city. He couldn’t help but wonder if the events that happen on the island effects whatever happens on the mainland. Guess he’ll never know.

He hopped over the edge, sticking to the other side of the wall, and climbing to the under-beams of the bridge. As he scaled further and further to the middle of the bridge, he felt his body shiver. But it wasn’t from the temperature. It was a weird feeling he couldn’t quiet discern yet. He kept going, moving closer to the middle of the bridge.

Move up.

Move up? He shrugged to himself as he climbed up, moving more to where the beams connect to the surface of the bridge. His senses kept chanting move up until he was almost flat against the top of the underside of the bridge. His body kept shivering, making his confusion skyrocket. It was weird, but it felt… nice.

It felt dewy, breezy, dark. It felt right. He didn’t feel the vibrations in his throat until Karen pointed it out. “Peter. You’re purring.” What?!

“Although not heard or known by most, male spiders can purr, although it’s mostly physical. It’s a form of courtship, but if something really pleases or relaxes a spider, they still purr.” Well there’s something else to add into his journal of things that’s changed about him. “These conditions would be close to perfect for spiders to set up their web except for the food source. I’m thinking your senses are more than pleased in this spot of housing.” Another thing.

While it was his plan to somehow set up shop under the bridge, he didn’t think his senses would actually prefer this. It seems this situation has turned into a win-loose situation instead of a straight up loose-loose situation. Yay.

He sat along one of the beams, leaning against one of the vertical beams, trying to think of how he’d actually make this work. Karen, reading his mind like always, pulled up the wheel of all the different kinds of web-shooting options he has that he totally memorized. The wheel spun for a bit before finally landing on one: Permanent Webs. Webs that never dissolve without one of his other creations.

“Karen, you’re one smart AI, you know that right?” he said in excitement as he unraveled the pack on his back. He connected it to one of the beams before starting off on his new creative journey of becoming an architect. He even released Archie at one point to help him, the mechanical spider having its one little slot for web-fluid, not intended for times like this.

It took until daybreak for the surrounding webbing to create a nice little pouch to live in. It might look weird to boats passing under, but then he reminded himself that he’s never seen many boats go past the harbor. When he tried to snuggle into his temporary bed, he kept moving around, realizing how restless he was. He looked back over to his mask which was resting on the pile of stuff he stuck to the corner, the webbing he initially used for that almost gone.

He grabbed his mask, quickly pulled it on over his face, then slipped out the small hole he created as a hidden entrance. He swung towards the island, taking a deep breath as he flung himself into the streets of Gotham once more.

———

He felt a slap on his head, pulling his attention away from his phone to stare daggers into the perpetrator. Bruce apparently thought it would be funny to do a hit and run as he continued his path to the bat-computer, pulling up the case they’ve been working on. The one that pulled Dick out of Bludhaven.

Either Bruce had a hidden machine, or he knows someone that can read if there’s a rip in their universe. And not a rip like universal matter that’ll change how the universe continues to grow, but like their singular universe out of many others. And he mentions casually in conversation when bringing the matter up to Dick. Ya, totally not a huge bomb that they’re one out of many paralleling universes.

Anyways, whatever it was told Bruce that there was a small tear in the universe, but quickly patched up again. And he believes that something, or someone got through. He was able to track them for a little bit and the’ve been hiding out in one spot, but went out a little bit at night.

When they went out to try and scout the place the person’s been staying at, everything was gone. No trace of them except the multiversal matter that is something that connects to people when they travel between universes. He wants to try that. They’ve been trying to track the person but nothing’s come up after that.

They think it’s that new vigilante, Web-slinger – or Spider-Man as Jason said he likes to go by – but their patterns don’t match up. Dick continued to watch Bruce re-read and nitpick the words on the few reports they have, trying t find something hidden in the words he should know by heart. He shook his head and looked.

Dick was called in both to look into who the universe-traveling being might be, as well as trying to bring in Web-slinger. Even if it’s not the man they’re looking for, he might know something since he showed up around the same time.

Speak of the devil, Dick got a message from Babs that the spider-boy was out and about. During the day. Not weird at all. She asked him to go out to focus on catching him. Usually Duke’s in charge of day-time activities but focusing his attention on a slippery vigilante would do more harm than anything.

Dick called out to Bruce informing him of his assignment, only getting a grunt in response. Ever the communicator. He suited up, organized all his gear, then grabbed his car and headed out into the city.

He didn’t have trouble tracking him down with Babs, or at the moment, Oracle, directing him based on what she sees from CCTV. The kids already stopped a mugging and a bike theft. Oracle said he hasn’t even been out that long. Although the more concerning thing is that these events are happening in the morning, aka day time. No wonder Signal was needed in the day. He’s still going to tease him about having the easy opening shift.

He abandoned the car at one of the underground garages near one of the bridges, depending on his grappling skills to chase after Web-slinger. He found the young vigilante sitting on an edge of a roof, nibbling on a churro while talking lively to himself. Although it sounded like he was on the phone with someone the way the conversation was going. Does he have comms. Is he working with the person who tore into the universe?

Before he could even take one more step to the kid, he turned around, his mechanical eyes wide and mouth hanging open slightly, cinnamon coating his lips. He couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at the sight, making Web-slinger’s eyes squint down more into a confused look, his head tilting along with the expression.

The kid stuffed the rest of the churro in his mouth before quickly wiping off the crumbs and fully pulling down his mask. “Nightwing, hey, how are you doing?” the kid asked, his voice muffled by the churro in his mouth. Before he could respond though, he seemed to freeze on the spot, his eyes going wide once more and his hand coming up to has face. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! Did you want a bite? I can totally go grab you another one! Jerry won’t mind, especially for you!”

Did he swallow that quickly if he was able to say all that clearly? Damn. “No, I’m good on a churro. Thanks for the offer though.” He knows the vendor’s name? Either he’s very sociable or he’s not hiding the fact that his civilian identity knows the man. Both are very real possibilities. “Who were you talking to earlier?” he asked instead.

He went back to the confused eyes, although they quickly went away in understanding, not having to think about it much. “Oh, that’s just Karen. My mentor created her for me so I don’t go around and fuck things up when he wasn’t there.” There was a small moment of silence before his mechanical eyes seemed to move as if he eye-rolled for a reason unknown to Dick.

“Your mentor?” Ever the detective.

Dick didn’t need to watch the eyes to see that he didn’t like the question.His whole body seemed to slightly curl in on itself unknowingly. “Ya, although he’s not here anymore. Kind of on my own now. Trying to carry on his legacy.” He tried to let out a joking laugh, but it came out sounding forced and painful. Touchy topic, got it.

His own body language seemed to have portrayed that since Web-slinger immediately jumped to assure Dick that it wasn’t that big of a deal and he’s not that affected by it (he could tell it was a lie). “So, what are you doing during the day? Isn’t it usually Signal whose working daytime? I was hoping to meet him.”

Dick sighed, knowing his answer will most likely lead to another chase. “You’re actually why I’m out. Signal can’t focus on bringing you in and being the only hero out during the day, so I got called in to talk with you.”

“Talk? Not chase? Are you sure about that?” Exactly what Dick was thinking. He’s been trying to prepare how to start this whole confrontation. Every other time has been both of them saying hi to each other, Dick jumping at the kid, and then a chase.

“Yes, a talk. We’ve been trying to bring you in to talk with you, but if you won’t come in, I’ll just sit with you. Is that okay?”

Web-slinger seems to ponder on all the possible outcomes. Dick tries to relax his body as much as possible, trying to show that he’s not thinking of capture or chase. It seemed to work as Web-slinger nodded and sat back on the ledge of the building.

Usually Dick would be concerned about the risk, even if they were trained assassins like Damian, but his worries were eased a little more knowing Web-slinger can stick to walls. He’s seen it as the kid has escaped him before. But there is still a slight worry that he knows will never go away.

Even then, he walks towards the edge and takes a seat right next to Web-slinger. “First things first. What should I call you, because repeatedly saying your name in my head takes too long.”

That got a laugh out of him. “Everybody just calls me Spidey. Short and sweet, and won’t get mixed up with anyone else.”

Dick physically felt himself do a mental face palm. He was just remembering how Jason told him Web-slinger wants to be called Spider-Man. That’s going to be hard to get right. “I don’t know, I kind of like Web-slinger. Any way to shorten that?”

He reeled back as if disgusted by Dick’s opinion. “Sorry not sorry, I’m never going by Web-slinger. I love that the city is accepting me and naming me and all, but I just can’t accept it.” Wow, he’s humble. “It’s the stupidest name I’ve ever heard! Like Spider-Man roles right off the tongue, easy to make nicknames out of. Cutesy to not scare of kids. Web-slinger sounds too country and serious. I’m not shooting guns with web-bullets! I’m not a web slinger!” Never mind.

Dick watched in slight horror and amusement as he went on a rant about keeping his preferred name and killing his “Gotham-given name.” It ended with a passive statement: “Even if everyone in the world hates him, he’s still going to be you’re friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”

There’s definitely something more going on with that name. As if it’s connected to a lot of good that’s been done. Could this be his mentor? Is he taking on the mantel? He’ll look into the name when he gets back to the cave.

“That doesn’t answer my question. What do I call you so I’m not waisting thought time?”

“I’m okay with you calling me Spidey. It’s usually only reserved for those close to me, but with how many chases we’ve been on, I’d say that’s close enough!” What a weird way to gauge a friendship. But he’ll take what he can get.

“Okay Spidey. Now to topic number two. Do you know what multi-dimensional travel is and have you ever done it?” He froze. That’s a yes. That’s a definite yes.

———

The talk was surprisingly insightful. As the story goes, Spidey himself hasn’t traveled through dimensions. Said that was most ridiculous thing ever. Also said: “It would be cool if it existed but alas, we’re stuck in a time where technology isn’t that advanced.” Felt like there was a hidden meaning but he elected to ignore it.

But back to the story, Spidey said he fought someone once who claimed to be from another dimension where their earth was burned by elemental creatures and came over to our dimension to burn this earth to. Turns out the creatures were all holograms from robots or something and the guy never traveled dimensions.

The reason why the talk was insightful was because it helped him read Spidey a lot more. The kid may seem like an open book when you ask him a question, but Dick could tell he was hiding things. Wording things a certain way to sound like one thing but mean something else.

Dick got to work updating the Web-slinger Spider-Man file, logging the whole conversation along with notes on his actions and possible hidden meanings. Once he finished that, he decided to scavenge the internet to see if he could find anything on a previous Spider-Man.

A lot came up actually. And a superhero at that. A teen superhero with an almost identical outfit. The only thing is. This hero was a movie character in an almost completely unknown movie franchise. Did this kid base his whole vigilante persona around a movie character?! Is his mentor a fucking fictional character?

Dick sighed as he added the information to the file, wondering how the heck he got to where he is now.

Chapter Text

Peter didn’t even realize how much time has passed since he arrived in Gotham. It’s been a little over a month since he’s arrived and already so much has happened. He met his dad of this universe along with uncles he’s never had before. Finds out he’s actually the son of the richest man in the world. Applied to said father’s school that one uncle will be going to with him. Made friends (maybe) with that uncle. And all of that is just within his “family life” of Gotham that he shouldn’t even have.

Outside of that, someone’s been trying to kidnap him, he might have another friend if he runs into him at the library again, stole some money from the richest man alive (and totally didn’t have a break down when he realized he basically stole from his uncle, it just solidified that he’s never meeting his Gotham family), and has earned some of his own money by helping some people around the neighborhood with fixing things in their house, their cars, food stands, or anything else that’s not important enough for other companies to pay attention to.

And that’s only as Peter Parker. Now with Spider-Man, he’s dealt with many things, although most of them being minor. He’s connected with the community as a different person, although using his Peter knowledge to us. He’s also helped the bat-clan (without their knowledge) capture one of the villains from the rouge gallery. He doesn’t know who or how important they were, but it seemed to take some stress off of them. Did some more cat and mouse with them, had some nice talks to.

It felt eventful, yet like more stuff should’ve happened to fill up the time. The reason why he’s reminiscing about the time spent here is because he didn’t realize it was the day to go take his testing to get admitted into Gotham Prep. And this was a slight problem because he hasn’t given himself time to study other than the occasional cafe visit. He tried to steer clear of the cafe after running into Richard, but alas, he could only focus on that kind of study.

Well, he trusts his knowledge of most things so he shouldn’t be too worried. He left his little cocoon of webbing a couple minutes ago and has been walking wherever Karen’s been telling him to go. He never mapped out where his new crib is to the school and he’s starting to wish he did. Although his stamina and strength are higher than most, he hasn’t been getting good nutrients to keep those up.

He hopes he runs into that Tim kid again if he was as nice as he was last time. Although that kind of goes against the whole talk that Tim they had before Tim left. Once he gets the scholarship money, he’ll be more than set. And he can pay Tim back whenever he sees him next.

Karen let him know he was about ten minutes away from the school when he turned a corner and almost got ran over by a speeding motorcycle. How they were driving on the sidewalk, he didn’t know, but they came to a complete stop after swerving him (which wasn’t needed since he moved out of the way in plenty of time).

They turned around, staring at him through their helmet. With them stopping, he expected some sort of quick apology before they continued to rampage the sidewalks, but they just continued to stare at him as they sat upon their bike. He decided to just give a quick nod with a mumbled “sorry” before starting his walk again.

As he turned around, he heard the guy call out. “Wait!” When he turned back around, the guy had his helmet off, looking at him with an emotion he can’t read. The first thing he noticed about the man was white tuft of hair at the front of his hairline. It looked like a hairstyle some singers used that he’s heard been referred to as Oreo hair. He always expected them to look bad but whoever has it usually pulls it off, including the guy in front of him. Was it inspired? Who knows.

But the other thing he noticed was a large but thin scar on his left cheek. If he had to relate the look to anything, it looked like an uppercase “J.” It didn’t disfigure his face in any way though. It was noticeable, but not something that drew your attention everyone time you might look at him.

He gave a confused look to the man, wondering why he was stopped. When he continued to stay silent, he decided to speak up. “I’m sorry sir, I wasn’t paying attention. I’ll be on my way.” He was about to turn around again when the man hopped of his bike and walked towards him, his mouth agape in silent wonder but still not uttering a word. “I’m sorry, but I really need to get to my destination. I can’t be late.”

That seemed to shake him out of whatever delirium he was in. “Oh, sorry. If you’re running late, I can drive you there. I’m not in a rush.” That’s not a concerning offer. Strange old man who looks to be enamored by an 18-year-old offers to take him for a ride with no one else around. He can just see the words blinking brightly above the situation. The man seemed to understand his hesitance though as he offered: “I know that seems strange but think of it as an apology ride. For almost killing you.”

It was his turn to stare at the man as he contemplated the situation. He didn’t feel any animosity from the man, nor any ill intent. Maybe he really did just want to apologize for almost killing him. He pulled out his phone to check the time, saw he would be two minutes late if he continued walking, and saw a message pop up from Karen: Trust your senses.

If he gets kidnapped, he’s blaming Karne. He showed his agreeance, nodding as he walked towards the man. In response, the man pulled out a second helmet and held it out to Peter, holding his own under his arm. “Where are you rushing to?” he asked as Peter grabbed the helmet.

“Gotham Prep.” He doesn’t know the reputation of private school kids here, but he knows it wasn’t the best back in his universe. Most people thought kids from private schools were stuck up snobby rich kids. And honestly, he kind of agreed. But Midtown High, the school he went to, was known for its smarts and academics. Even their sports were good. Yes, they had their snobby rich kids (flash), but even they were on the higher end of the academic average of Queens.

The man in front of him just nodded his head, no judgement on what kind of kid Peter might be. They both pulled the helmets over their heads (the smell was very delightful), and the man helped him get up on the bike.

He never told may, but Tony gifted him a motorcycle once, along with a training course that’ll easily help him pass the driving test for cycles. He’s never driven it after getting his license, but he knows how they work. And because of that, he decided to wrap his arms around the man in front of him. Even with his stickiness and core strength, making the driver uneasy and scared that his passenger isn’t hanging on will make them be more likely to crash.

Remember when he said he had ten minutes left to get to the school? They got there in two. He probably drives the equivalent of the Winter Soldier. Peter never personally saw the man ride a motorcycle, but he’s heard stories. He hopped off the bike, the man following suit, and they both took off their helmets.

Before he could say his thanks, a loud voice called out to them. “What the fuck are you doing here?” It was angry but also in slight disbelief. When Peter turned around, he saw Tim angrily walking towards them, face red in the same anger his voice portrayed.

The man’s own eyes portrayed slight anger but more in an annoying way. What is going on here? “Parker, come over here. Now.” Okay, definitely something greater than a disagreement or something. He looked between the man and Tim, seeing that neither of them was looking at Peter, but glaring at each other. He set the helmet down of the seat of the bike and walked towards Tim.

The boy quickly stepped in front of Peter, seemingly trying to protect him from the man? “Tim, it’s not that serious, what are you so pressed about now?” the man asked in a lazy voice.

Tim seemed to bristle at that. “You know what you’re doing. Leave this alone. It’s not your thing to stick your ugly nose into.” Harsh.

The man just rolled his eyes in response. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I almost ran the kid over on my way to work and felt bad, so I drove him where he wanted to be. Nothing more, nothing less.” There was an undertone in his voice that gave away that there might be more to this kind gesture than that.

Tim seemed to agree as Peter saw his body tense up. They had a stare off, Tim glaring holes into the man and the man just staring as if Tim is an annoying little bug that won’t leave him alone. “Goodbye Tim. Talk to you later.” The man broke the eye contact as he turned around and put the spare helmet under his bike seat. He put on his own helmet, looked back at the pair, then sped away from the school.

Tim, still tense, turned around to face Peter. “Sorry for that. Him and I don’t have the best past.” You don’t say. Peter just shrugged in response, showing that it was okay. Yes, he was a little turned off by the interaction, but it wasn’t anything he would judge either of them for. It wasn’t his fight. It wasn’t his past.

Well, maybe it was something he should think about. Is this the past that made Tim ask him the question about gold-digging friends? Maybe he should involve himself in this. Only to help Tim. Obviously.

They both turned to the entrance of the school, walking towards the giant doors that aren’t at all intimidating. “Do you know where you’re going?”

Good question! He didn’t. He never even really thought about not knowing where he would need to go for the test. Speaking of, why is Tim here? If he has enough money to ask about gold-digging friends, why would he need to go take the test for the scholarship.

“No clue. Although I do have a question.” Tim nodded to show he was able to answer. Peter followed him as they walked through the halls. “No offense, but if you’re family is rich, why are you here to take the scholarship test instead of paying the tuition fee?”

“That’s not offensive at all. My uh, stepdad, I guess, says that I shouldn’t get a free pass into an academically acclaimed school just because I have the money.” Wow. Who knew rich people about how their money affected people? Somewhat.

And he vocalized as much. “That’s, kind of smart. It’s a nice push.”

Tim nodded along with him. “And if we do get accepted, he recommends that we use the money to help other scholarship students or donate to charity, but ultimately the decisions up to us.”

“That’s nice of him. I’m guessing he’s a first generation or something?”

Tim shook his head, a sad smile taking over his face. “No, his family is known billionaires, dating back yeeeeaaaaars. His grandfather was super obnoxious, but his parents were super kind, always treating the staff with the upmost respect. Luckily, he got his parents genes and not his grandfather.”

“Lucky indeed. I’m guessing most kids who go here without scholarship don’t have parents like that?” Peter asked, already getting a sense of what school might be like if he gets accepted.

“Unfortunately. There’s a few, diamonds in the rough as some people refer to them as, but still very few.” Peter just nodded along, taking in the information. “What about you? Don’t think I haven’t seen that ultra-futuristic phone sticking out of your back pocket, along with earbuds I’ve never seen before. To get stuff like that, you must be rich.”

It was Peter’s turn to chuckle. “Quite the opposite. I’m actually super broke right now. Long story short, I’ve had multiple father figures in my life, one of them was a rich engineer and made these for me, but he never patented them.” Not a total lie but definitely not remotely close to the truth.

Tim nodded in response, both walking in silence as he continued to follow Tim. They turned one more corner and stopped in front of a door. On the top of the door, there was a sign that read “Group #3.”

Tim walked in with confidence Peter thinks he’ll never be able to replicate unless he’s under the mask. There was a little table near the door that had three different papers on it. The first one was a sign in sheet where kids had to hand in their IDs while singing their name. Peter set his down in the pile after Tim before signing next to the line labeled Parker Grayson. There was also an electronics bin for kids to put their phones and stuff.

When he moved over, the two piles consisted of a booklet of questions and the other being a scantron to write in the answers. Both had printed names to signify whose paper and scantron belonged to who. It didn’t take long for Peter to find his as it was close, but Tim shuffled through the papers for a little bit before finding his.

Each table had a pile of scratch paper and three pencils. They also had names laminated and tapped onto desks, spacing them out so kids aren’t sitting next to each other. They really went the extra mile to make sure people don’t cheat. Even midtown wasn’t this strict.

He sat at his respective seat, Tim being behind him. There were instructions on the board that he didn't read until he sat down:

1. Keep everything faced down until start time
2. No electronics on you until you leave the testing area
3. Use only the materials given to you
4. No talking
   1. No questions allowed
   2. No communicating with peers
5. 2 bathroom breaks allowed – raise hand for proctor's approval
6. Go at your own pace

Not too strict. And he understood the no questions rule. This was a test to gauge a student’s educational level and if they’re getting the answers by asking questions, which isn’t wrong at all to do, it’s just not an accurate way of getting someone’s educational understanding.

About three more kids walked in before what looks to be a teacher. He didn’t say anything as he picked up the basket of IDs and phones along with the check-in list, then went to the desk and sat down. As he took a seat, he turned on the projector, showing a timer counting down from a minute. “You have a minute to get yourselves set up and settled.” After that, he clicked something on the computer and the countdown started. “Once this starts, you can flip over your papers and start working.”

He sat in silence for that minute, listening as others shuffled the things on their desks and got comfortable in their seats. Once the little beeper went off, he flipped over the booklet, opening up to a history section. Well, this is starting off amazingly.

---

Tim counts himself as someone pretty smart. He figured out who Batman was by figuring out who Robin was first. He’s solved cases some of the world's best detectives couldn’t solve. And alongside that, he’s the go-to information finder within the family.

So, he decided to challenge himself today. He was going to gauge Parker’s intelligence by watching him take the test. There were very simple and easy questions, and others that were near impossible to answer. Someone questions are expected by the board to be unanswerable, all of this to see where a student’s knowledge lies.

But Tim was going to find that all out just by watching the boy. He was sat in the back, luckily enough, as Parker was sat near the front. He worked on his own booklet, confident in his knowledge to take time away to watch the boy.

His body language showed distraught as soon as he opened the booklet. Why? He seemed to be wicked smart with how he hacked into the library computers. Maybe he’s only good with coding. He decided to focus on his own booklet for a while, just to get it out of the way.

In what he guessed to be two minutes, he looked up and saw Parker’s body focused and at ease. He was calmly doing problems on the scratch paper, most of the time not even looking at the paper. He looked in the zone. Like whatever he was working on was child’s play. Maybe it was. He might just be on the easy questions. Ya, that’s what it’s got to be.

We went back to focusing on his booklet, easily going through the subjects, taking small glances at Parker each time he’s finished with a section. About an hour passed when he looked back up to focus on Parker more intently. He seemed stuck again, completely different than how he looked while Tim was taking glances. He pretended to yawn to be able to peer around his body, seeing that he was back to the front.

Smart. Skip what he didn’t know and wait until the end to focus back on them. And apparently that was the front section. He didn’t know exactly what subject that is because each booklet is laid out differently with questions being slightly different than each other.

He finished the rest of his booklet in about 15 minutes, completing the English section before getting up to hand in his scantron and booklet. The first in the room to do so. Not a surprise honestly. The proctor searched for his ID, checked it and marked something next to his name, before handing him his ID and the phone basket.

As he was walking towards the door, Parker got up with the booklet and scantron in hand, placing it on the same table Tim did. He got his ID approved, took his own wonky phone out of the bin, and then walked up to Tim, a sad smile on his face.

Why sad? He was the second the finish. Doing 63 questions in a little over an hour is amazing, especially with these kinds of questions. Maybe he left the harder ones blank and that’s why he finished early. He couldn’t get a good reading on how Parker did. He originally thought he aced the test, his intelligence close to rivaling his own, but with that reaction and how he acted at the beginning questions, maybe he wasn’t as smart as Tim thought he would’ve been.

Well, you live, you see, you learn. He’ll know if Parker made it two days from now.

---

He feels like shit. Don’t get him wrong, he flew through the math and science questions with ease. Struggled a little on the English section, but only the really tough questions. He was stuck on History. The first question talked about an event he never heard about before. With people he’s never heard of. There were a few events that he thought he knew the answers to, but the options showed that it most likely didn’t happen in this world the same way it happened in his.

He's probably going to be stuck with the freshmen class if he gets accepted at all. He knew Tim was watching him the whole time, his senses telling him every time he focused on Peter. Wasn’t stressing him out at all. They walked in silence to the entrance of the school, Peter following Tim as he wasn’t paying attention to when they walked to the classroom.

When they got to the entrance, there was someone sitting on the steps in front of the door, their head resting in their hands. When they heard the doors open, they quickly flung their head in Tim and Peter’s direction, an annoyed look showing on his face. Damian. “Have you tried calling Richard? He’s not picking up. I don’t want to be sitting on these dirty steps anymore waiting for Duke.”

They know each other? How do they know each other? Is it rich kids being friends with each other? It has to be. But then that begs the question, why is Damian here? Tim just sighed as he walked up to Damian, plopping down next to the boy. “He’s probably busy. Just try to be patient for once, will you?”

Damian just grumbled as he turned back around, putting his head back into his hands. Parker just stood there, unsure of what to do. “Uh, thank you Tim for walking me to our room. See you around maybe? Good to see you again Damain.”

Tim was about to cut Peter off, but when he heard that Peter apparently met Damain before, the boy flung his head around to the younger, a look of shock and anger clear on his face. Damian ignored the look, standing up and fully facing Peter. “We can drive you home you know. You don’t have to walk.” Tim, although still glaring at the younger boy, nodded his head in agreement.

“That’s okay. It’s like a five-minute walk. That’s like a one second drive.” Obviously, he’s not going to tell them he lives under a fucking bridge. And also, the fact that Richard, who we all know and like, is picking them up just solidifies that he will in fact not be going home with them.

Before Damain or Tim can refute, the doors opened up again, revealing a young man with dark skin and a tired smile walking out the door. When he saw the boys on the steps, he called out, “I’m not last! Steph owes me $20!” He continued walking towards them until Peter seemed to come into his view. The boy paused, fully turning towards Peter with a slight shock on his face.

Does he have pencil marks on his face? Is his hair messy? Why is he staring at him like that? He didn’t have time to think about it as he felt himself go stiff. His body started shivering all around, letting him know something was wrong.

The others went a little stiff too, noticing his change in body but not knowing what exactly it was. How could they read him that well? It took a while, but he heard the new part of his sense speak up.

Behind! Bad intent! Bad!

He wanted to look back so bad. His body was begging him to, but he wouldn’t allow it. If he moved to see and dodge whoever was there to attack, it would let the others know something was up. He stood rigid in place, unable to move.

He heard the pause in the extra breath he didn’t notice before. He noticed the footsteps trying to be quiet turn into rushed steps. He heard the yell of warnings from the boys in front of him before he saw darkness take over his vision. The attackers put a bag over his head, holding a hand over his nose and mouth while pressing down harshly, trying to cut off his breathing.

He was able to hold his breath for a long time, usually able to fake passing out to trick enemies who would occasionally get their hands on him. As he pretended to struggle, he heard fighting happening with the boys in front. The attacker seemed to use the fighting as a way to run off with Peter, dragging him across what he believed to be a lawn.

He started to feel dizzy. His vision starting to spot. How? He was able to hold oxygen longer than most so this shouldn’t be possible. As he started to black out, actually struggling but his strength wasn’t listening to him, he came to realize. He hasn’t been getting the nutrition he needed and hasn’t been back to his full self. His stamina was down, his strength was down, his healing was down. His lung strength was down. And he was passing out. Fuck.

---

Tim noticed the difference as soon as it happened. When Parker’s body froze up, his senses seeming to be more alert. His body twitching slightly as well. And before he could even utter a sound, two bodies came around the corner that Parker was standing near, pulling a sack over his head and pressing their hands where his mouth and nose were.

While they were taught not to attack when in their civies, all three of them were immediately posed to fight. Damain immediately jumped to rush the guy that has a hold on Parker but was distracted by another guy coming out, dressed in the same outfit as the one holding Parker.

They wore all black, long-sleeved shirts and loose black pants along with black ski-masks covering their face. Basic thief outfit if you will. As Damain was taking care of the other guy, he and Duke rushed after Parker, but was also intercepted by other fighters. They seemed to come out of every corner. How many men were here to kidnap them? They all had sacks with them, their fighting obviously showing they were aiming for knock-out.

As they were fighting, Parker was getting dragged around the corner, quickly getting taken out of their sight. Once he was gone from Tim’s view, the doors to the school opened, revealing a tired looking Steph who seemed to immediately become awake at the sight of the fight. Without questioning it, she jumped right into the fray, knocking out the men left and right, letting them inch closer to Parker.

They were able to round the corner, Tim only having three more men to deal with, when he saw what looked to be an unconscious Parker get dragged into a white van. It had stuff on the top of it that made it seem like it was some business van for mechanics. They quickly shut the door, allowing Tim to see the license plate.

08SKZ134

He chanted that succession in his head, implanting the numbers and letter so it would be impossible to forget. He was able to somewhat quickly deal with his three attackers, leaving them disoriented and knocked out. When he looked for the others, they seemed to be finishing off their own attackers with no issue.

Steph was starting to bruise on her right cheek, Duke putting pressure on his right shoulder, and Damian. Well, he looked completely fine. Angry, but fine. “What the fuck was that?!” Steph called out, starting to put pressure on her face after knocking out the last goon.

“A mini-Dick look-alike just got taken,” Duke oh-so-helpfully explained.

Tim couldn’t help but sigh at how outlandish this situation seems. Steph’s faced morphed into a mixture of shock and confusion, looking at Tim for an explanation. “A little over a month ago, Babs saw a kid who looked like Dick, just with a different color palette. That same night, I saw him sleeping on the roof. Long story short, we’ve been trying to follow him and trace his past, but nothings come up so far. As weird as it may seem, we think it’s Dick’s kid. And the way he’s acting about it to just seems to solidify that theory.”

“He looked our age!” Duke called out in utter shock. “Dick would’ve been, what, 16?”

“14” Damian cut in.

“14!! That’s impossible, right? That has to be impossible.” Duke started pacing back and forth, his confusion seeming to control his mind and body.

“So, you’re telling me that this group of goons just kidnapped Dick’s possible son?” Steph asked. Tim and Damain just nodded in response, Tim forgetting how desensitized to this whole situation he was. Not the kidnapping, but Dick’s possible son.

And speak of the devil, rounding the corner comes Dick’s car, the older man bopping his head to the music they couldn’t hear. As soon as he pulls up, he parked the car and jumped out a wide smile on his face. “Who was last this time! Cass and I have a bet.”

“Parker got taken.” And don’t think Tim didn’t forget to question Damain later on how he knew Parker. Seemed to be friendly with him to.

Dick’s face immediately dropped, an angry passion taking over him that Tim’s only seen a few times. It’s scary, but it’s rare. The four of them immediately ran to the car without being told, Dick starting the car before he could even close his door. Without checking if everyone was buckled in, he started speeding off back to the mansion, eyes focused on the road in front of him. The whole ride was silent, different emotions swarming through the five bodies inhabiting the space.

When they pulled up into the cave, all five of them jumped out of the car, rushing to put on their suits. While Tim was pulling up his pants, a voice echoed throughout the cave. “You guys shouldn’t go out.”

It sounded like Babs, talking through the speakers while she’s at the library. It honestly like she lives there. “And why’s that,” Dick’s irritated voice comes out. When Tim looked at him, his movements of putting on his suit haven’t slowed. His rushing was hindering how smoothly he could get his suit on though.

“For a multitude of reasons. But the main one being that it’s going to let the capturers know exactly who the Bat-clan is.” This paused Dick’s movement. His eyes stared at the ground, slightly moving around and showing that’s not what he’s actually focused on.

He was thinking about something. Contemplating and trying to piece together what Babs said. “Why?” he said after a moment of silence.

Everyone else already stopped their movements, waiting on her answer. They heard a sigh go through the speaker. Intentional considering she controlled when her voice could be heard. “They were after all of you guys. Not just Parker. They had multiple sacks for multiple heads, jumping out when Wayne’s kids were gathered outside.”

“What if they’re just child traffickers?” Steph asked.

“They would’ve attacked Damian as soon as he walked out. But once Duke was out, they attacked” – Steph hmphed as if being left out of a kidnapping was insulting – “and Parker was closest to them, so they got him first. Which they got lucky with considering he has no self-defense training that we know of.”

Tim watched as Dick’s eyes turned from focused to anger once more, and some kind of guilt. “They still drove off as soon as they pulled Parker into the van. They didn’t try to wait longer for the captures to get us. If they want a Wayne kid, why drive off with the non-official Wayne?” Tim asked. It didn’t make any sense. Unless they were okay with bagging the possible-Wayne. He came across as comfortable around him and Damian so it’s not a far-off speculation they could’ve made. Like a hidden Wayne.

There was a pause. No sound coming from Bab’s side until there was a very obvious click. “I just sent something to the Bat-computer. I got it sent to Bruce’s work email a little over a minute ago.”

They all turned their heads as Bab’s pulled up what looked to be a video onto the Bat-computer. It started out with a passed-out Parker, sack off his head, and on the floor of the van. It seemed they started recording as soon as they drove away if they had already sent it to Bruce.

The video just played Parker rocking back and forth on the floor, moving along to the movements of the van. After a couple seconds, the camera panned to one of the men in the masks. “Hey Brucie! Not to alarm you or anything, but in case you didn’t know, your golden child Richard has a secret child! A pretty old one at that. Any who! The reason why we took him was for hostage, if that wasn’t obvious. Ransom if you will. We want 1 million dollars by the end of the week. Not for your convenience, but ours. If we don’t get the money, we’re going to announce to the whole world about your whore of a son. And then we’ll have no use for him after that and just kill the boy. And you wouldn’t like that, right? So, 1 million, end of the week. Bye Brucie!”

The video panned back to Parker, coming in closer to his face and showing just how similar he looked to Dick. All the faces in the room turned to Dick, his face red with anger. Not at them calling him a whore, not at them insinuating that he did the deed as a tween. No, at the fact that they had Parker. Tim knew he could care less about his reputation. He never cared about that when family was a bigger issue.

“I don’t care if it’ll give our identities away. We go now.” His voice was cold and authoritative, not allowing for any disagreements or arguments. He continued to pull his suit on.

“Listen to Babs. We wait this out.” Tim jumped a little at the surprise voice. They all looked up, seeing Bruce looking at them from the railing of the stairs that led up to the mansion. His demeanor was calm and relaxed as he continued to walk down the stairs, glancing at the screen that was stuck on the close up of Parker’s face. “We need to plan this out so it doesn’t turn into a messy situation that could get someone hurt. They’re not afraid of killing him so we can’t be hasty about this.”

“Bruce. He hasn’t been trained in how to deal with kidnappings. He doesn’t know ho-”

“I don’t care. I’d rather him be beaten up and fixable than dead because of not having a plan.” The cold words seemed to pour a bucket of reality on Dick as his demeanor went from agitated to tired. His body slumped over, his head dropping back to the ground. “We’ll gather whatever information we can and get to him as soon as possible. Okay?”

Everyone nodded their heads, agreeing silently to not stir up more of an argument.

Chapter Text

It’s been about a week of bedrest for Tony, and he has felt absolutely terrible. While he was unable to move, instructed by his doctors as well as physically being unable to, the stories of what happened after he did the snap were told to him whenever he was awake.

Cap going back and returning the stones and then coming back as a really old man. What happened to Wakanda and what happened to Thor. There are new heroes out and about that they’re trying to track down and apparently some big machine-like being that was breaking out of the crust of the earth called a Celestial. Fun.

Although all that happened in the small time after he fell into the comma, he only really replayed one story over and over in his head. Peter. He went through so much with no help from any of the avengers except from a fake Nic Fury and beings from different dimensions. This world failed him. His own world failed him. The world Tony himself brought back just to get the kid back, it all failed him. And Tony wasn’t there for any of it. And now the kid’s gone.

As he laid in the hospital bed, neck stiff and cracking with a million-dollar view of the hospital room ceiling, he came to a decision. One that he was contemplating once he got the full story. Day by day, he was getting his strength back. Even if it was just moving a finger, he was still moving. At this point, he was able to move his whole body minutely. And as much as this plan would cause him pain and time, he believed being able to move his body was a sign enough that he should do what he was planning to.

He slowly moved his hands to rest beside his torso, slowly tightening his muscles to allow himself to push up his body weight. The strain of muscle movement along with the moving and cracking of his charred skin didn’t help, but he pushed through. When he was finally sitting on the side of the bed, panting and sweating like a dog, he realized that not only would he have to walk to the wheelchair that’s on the other side of the room, but he would need to unfold it and wheel it himself.

He was rich. Couldn’t they have gotten him one of those wheelchairs that roll with a joystick? Heck, what about one that reads your mind and knows where you want to go? Even if that didn’t exist, they had the money and tools to build one.

It felt like an hour until he got to the wheelchair, leaning against the wall to unfold it. He let out a huff of a laugh at the message taped to the backrest of the chair. Don’t even think about it. There’s a tracker. – Pots

He got this far, why stop now? He tore off the note, sticking it onto the wall, before plopping himself in their chair, groaning at the pain of the movement, impact, and his muscles relaxing. He sat there for a good couple of minutes, letting his body relax in the new position for maximum comfort.

He took a deep breath, readying his arms on the wheels. As he let out the breath, he started rolling the wheels, gritting his teeth at the pain of his cracked skin moving. He was able to roll out of his room, his arms once again getting used to the discomfort.

He couldn’t help the smirk that formed on his face as he started rolling his way towards the exit of the hospital. Who cares if there’s a tracker in there! It’s like 1 am, they’re not going to know he’s gone until he reached his destination.

“Anothony Edward Stark. Just where do you think you’re going?” Or so he though.

---

The first thing he feels when he wakes up is cold hard cement on his cheek. He can’t actually see it; you know, with the blind fold covering his view and everything. He heard voices and could feel them around him. There footsteps vibrating through the floor, allowing his senses to have a better reach. Maybe should do this more often. Just lay flat against any surface. Seems to be making his senses stronger.

Something he didn’t need his senses to tell him were that his hands were tied behind his back. With duct tape. Armatures. He gets it, he put up a weak fight against the kidnappers but come on! It’s just insulting at this point.

He laid there as still as possible. Hoping to gather information through their meaningless chatter while they think he’s still lying there unconscious. He didn’t get much before someone, somehow, guessed he was awake. That guess made them think it was pointless for him to wake up anyways and pour cold water all over him. With only having his nostrils available for breathing, if it was any other people, they very much could’ve basically drowned with the amount of water that went up his nose.

He was able to hold his breathing for long enough to snort out the water, getting it out of his airway as quickly as possible. Only after that did they decide to pull his blindfold down and tear the duct tape off his mouth. There goes the mustache he was growing in.

He put on a terrified look, hoping he came across weak and helpless. He saw three men looming over him, two of them looking bored while the third looked excited for some reason. Child predator maybe? Not scary at all.

“Wakey, wakey mini-Dicky!” Okay, that was just super weird and brought down his scare factor to 1. “We need you up and ready to perform your lines!” he said in a sing-song voice. Brought it down to a 0 now. If he keeps it up, he’ll probably hit an all-time record of being in the negatives.

One of the other guys smacked him across the head, an annoyed look on his face. Okay so it’s universal. Not just him being an asshole. The other non-emotional guy left their little pack of three and moved out of Peter’s viewpoint. The one in in front of him start speaking; he’ll call him Non-Emotional #1, NE 1 for short. “We just need you to read a couple of lines and then we’ll be done with you for today.”

“Yay, I’m finally fulfilling my dream of becoming an actor” he said in the most monotone voice, then put on a fake shocked look when NE 1 looked at him with irritation. “Oh no. Did I say that out loud. My, what poor etiquette I must have after being kidnapped.”

Usually, one is told to not rile up one’s kidnapper, but not only does it make it more of an option for them to not chase after him if he were to escape, but it gets them angry enough to not have any rational once he starts actually fighting back. Thank you, Natasha (even if she doesn’t agree with the way he’s doing it).

He heard NE 2 coming back, draggling along what he’s guessing to be a chair. And he guessed right because NE 2 harshly lifted him up and basically threw him onto the chair, making sure his hands were behind the backrest. He used more duct tape (really?) and wrapped his arms and legs to the actual chair this time, thinking that would hold him down.

As he was getting tossed around, Emotional-Guy (EG) was setting up a tripod with the camera before pulling out a huge flip through sketch book thing. A script basically. Once he was all snug in the chair, they turned on the camera, centering it on his face.

“Read” NE 1 said, crossing his arms and glaring at Peter, seeming to watch his every move.

EG flipped the first page to show the first line of words.

Peter sighed, doing a quick read through and knew this was going to be a fun experience. “Dear Mr. Wayne. You may not knowle who I am-”

“Knowle? Stop fucking around and read what it says,” NE 1 said in a somewhat monotone voice.

“I am,” he responded back just as monotone.

NE 1 turned to the pages, reading the misspelling and his face once again contorted into an irritated face. “You know what it’s supposed to say.”

Peter just rolled his eyes before looking back at the paper. “Dear Mr. Wayne. You may not know who I am, but I will beacon someone impo-”

“Become.” He gritted out.

“I’m just reading what it says,” he replied back, on obviously fake look of innocence on his face. When he got no response, he turned back to the papers. “But I will become someone importance- Okay, I was going to do this to piss you guys off, but this is actually a little ridiculous.”

NE 1 turned to EG and glared daggers at him. “We literally typed it out with the correct spelling. How the heck did you fuck it up that much!”

“I have dyslexia!” he cried out, hiding behind the giant pages. Peter wanted to laugh but didn’t dare to so the attention isn’t back on him.

After a little more back and forth between the two, NE 1 directed his glare onto Peter. “Read you little prick.”

“I’ve been reading it, why are you getting mad at me?” The sweet satisfaction of riling them up.

“Fine then. Improvise. I don’t give a fuck. Just don’t read exactly what he wrote.”

Sweet, sweet freedom. “Dear Mr. Wayne. You may not know who I am, but I will become someone important. My name is Parker Grayson, and if you haven’t guessed by now, I am believed to be your adopted son’s secret love child only because I look like him and we happen to share the same last name. No DNA test or anything, just kidnapping me on a dream to get money. So, I-”

“SHUT UP! JUST FOLLOW THE SCRIPT!”

Now he’s yelling. That’s a win. “Fine,” he said before scooching in his seat to look like he’s getting more comfortable, just pissing off NE 1 even more. “I am Dick Grayson’s secret child. As I’ve been unsuccessfully hidden away to protect the Wayne family name, I have been kidnapped by idiots and they think they are sending serious threats so-”

This time it wasn’t any yelling that made him stop speaking. NE 2 walked up behind EG, pointing a revolver at him with a stone-cold expression. Even though he could avoid any fatal injury from a bullet, the kidnappers don’t know that and if he wants a chance at catching them off guard and beating them, he has to play the weak one.

NE 1 spoke up, his voice bringing out a cold anger, showing he isn’t afraid to order the gun shot. Although Peter knows he won’t. it seems like they need him alive for the next two days if they plan on doing daily videos.

With a fake shaky voice, he read what was on the paper. “Dear Mr. Wayne. You may not know who I am, but I will become someone important very soon. My name is Parker Grayson, and if you haven’t guessed by now, I am Dick Grayson’s secret child. As I’ve been unsuccessfully hidden away to protect the Wayne family name, I have been found out and I am now here to let you know that we are not sending any idle threats. My identity will be exposed to the world unless you pay the total sum of 1 million by the end of the week. You have 2 days left.”

NE 2 holstered his gun while EG flipped the cover over the paper, setting the giant pad of papers on the floor.

“Honestly, you’re kind of low-balling it. 1 million? Really? From the richest guy in the world? That’s like one cent to him.” He wiggled around, trying to make it seem like he was trying to find a comfortable sitting position.

“Then he wouldn’t mind paying it,” NE 1 said as he shut off the camera. He took out the SD card and gave it to EG. “Fix it up and send to Brucie.” So even villains call him that? Who would’ve thought.

---

It’s been almost a full day since the kidnapping of Parker, the mansion tense with anticipation on what to do. Dick has been downstairs, using any resources on the bat computer to try and find the kid’s location. The only thing he was able to get was where the van was last seen on CCTVs. They were going under a bridge and never resurfaced from any exits.

He tried pulling up any camera dashcams that were in the same tunnel around the same time, but looking through all the footage was tiring him out. Nothing was coming up. “Dick,” a soft but still somewhat harsh sounding voice said behind him. It surprised Dick, but he didn’t show it. “You need to get some rest.”

“No, I need answers,” he answered back, not taking his eyes off the dashcam from one of the man cars. His eyes were flitting back and forth, trying to take in the look of every single car passing by it or driving with it.

“Even once you get answers, you won’t have the proper energy to go and help him. Get some rest.” A broad hand rested on his shoulder, grounding him a little bit but not enough for him to take his eyes away from the screen.

“Bruce, I don’t want to hear it. Especially coming from you.” It may have been a little too harsh, but he wasn’t in the mood to make sure he was coming off as the perfect son everyone thought of him as.

“You need to hear it, especially coming from someone like me. I know what it’s like. Don’t put yourself through it.” The hand then squeezed his shoulder, making Dick close his eyes and turn away from the screen. When he opened them back up, he saw Bruce staring at him with caring concern. He’s used to seeing him put on an act, either as Batman or as Brucie: Gotham’s Prince. And it’s so easy for Bruce to fall into those roles. It’s been so easily for Dick to read and deal with those different masks, but he’s always struggled with Bruce not having a mask. It’s easier to deal with fake emotions on both sides than true emotions.

He gives it a try anyway. “I don’t know why I care so much about him. He’s not my son as far as I know. I swear I never did something like that while I was that young.”

Bruce let out a low chuckle at that, laughing at the fact that such ideas was even a question. “I believe you. But we can’t rule out the fact that he still might be yours.” Dick raised an eyebrow in confusion, looking for a clearer explanation. “Tim has some theories, and not all of them are too outlandish. Secret love child with meta-genes that allows him to manipulate time somehow, is a clone, a dimensional hoping being, maybe even traveled from the future. Possibilities are endless. But he could also just be a regular kid who happens to share the same and very common last name with you, while looking somewhat like you.”

Dick nodded along, feeling better about having his dad believe that he wasn’t horny as a pre-teen. But there was still a heavy feeling on his chest. “I just don’t understand why I care so much about him. I’ve talked to him twice, I think. And he seemed to always try and run away from me.”

This got another chuckle out of Bruce, a bit lighter this time. “Reminds me of some other kids I know. They seemed to lighten up after a bit though.” It was Dick’s turn to laugh now. “It’s all about showing them they can trust you. Each kid is different because of the different experiences they’ve all had. Good and bad.”

“His seem to be pretty bad.” Bruce nodded along to have Dick explain. “He’s mentioned how a lot of his loved ones have died. I’ve checked video feeds Tim and Babs have kept and he seems homeless or at least in a really shitty environment.”

“So, you want to help him have a better environment? Get him on his feet?”

Dick shakes his head. “It’s more than that, but I don’t know what. Why is this so hard.”

Bruce moved his hand from Dick’s shoulder and started patting his back. “It’s easier than it may seem. You have me to help you, and I have all kinds of experience. And you have everyone else in this household who would do anything for you. They seemed to already like Parker anyways, so I’m sure he’ll be welcomed with open arms.” A soft smile was plastered and both their faces, seeming to come to a new sense of understanding with each other.

A ding was sounded out through the entire bat-cave, drawing their attention to the screen. A notification of a video message sent from the same number as before. Bruce pressed a button on the control panel before speaking up, “Babs, you getting a location?”

“Working on it,” came her voice loud and clear from the speakers.

Dick looked up at him confused. “We sent back a message asking for video proof that he’s alive so we can track where they’re sending it from.” How did he not think of that.

As they were opening up the file, a stamped of feet came rushing down the stairs in a matter of seconds. “We heard the notification,” Steph said in a rushed voice.

Dick couldn’t help but laugh at that as he opened it up. It started with a freeze frame of a drenched Parker looking at something behind the camera. When they pressed play, a low voice could be heard from behind the camera. All it said was “read.”

Parker, seeming to not have a care in the world, sighed and his eyes switched over to the other side of the camera. “‘Dear Mr. Wayne. You may not knowle who I am-’

“‘Knowle? Stop fucking around and read what it says,’” said the same voice that spoke form the beginning.

“‘I am,’” he responded back just as monotone as the other guy.

The interaction continued like that, at some point getting the kidnapper to scream in furry. Shoot him in the foot if he was seeing things, but Dick’s pretty sure Parker was proud of pissing them off. Wow this boy has no survival instincts. He decided to piss them off some more, but randomly stopped, his eyes going wide, and fear finally being shown. He was being threatened.

His voice seemed to shake as he re-read what was intended to be said. “‘Dear Mr. Wayne. You may not know who I am, but I will become someone important very soon. My name is Parker Grayson, and if you haven’t guessed by now, I am Dick Grayson’s secret child. As I’ve been unsuccessfully hidden away to protect the Wayne family name, I have been found out and I am now here to let you know that we are not sending any idle threats. My identity will be exposed to the world unless you pay the total sum of 1 million by the end of the week. You have 2 days left.’”

The video finished with Parker relaxing a little bit before making another snarky comment and the video ending then and there. They obviously didn’t mean to send the whole video, but it seemed to bring some tension off of everyone’s shoulder. “Are we sure he isn’t Dick’s son?” Tim joked, earning a punch from Duke.

“I got the coordinates. Sending through to you know.” As soon as she finished speaking, another ding went out, showing a notification for coordinates from the where the message was sent.

“Alright everyone. Once we get there, we have to make sure Parker isn’t in any immediate danger. Got it? Suit up and head out!” Bruce called out as he walked to his display of bat suits.

Dick went to his suit, quickly pulling it on and attaching all his gear before meeting Bruce at the Batmobile. They both got in, nodded in understanding of what future event will possibly be happening, and then sped off to the direction of the coordinates.

---

NE 1 and EG were talking checking to make sure the video was sent through and discussing the next course of action while NE 2 was trying to disconnect Peter from the chair. His guess was that they were going to move to another location, so they’re not caught because of coordinate tracking. Seems smart, actually stupid.

Even if you leave after sending something, there’s still tracks and traces you leave behind for the people chasing after you to actually find them. But he doesn’t want this to turn into a wild goose chase. So, he did want any super-powered kid would do. Tried to break out of his restraints.

He already broke out of the duct tape from his legs. It was a bit of a struggle, but he was able to find the weak spot and used enough force to basically slice through the tape. Silently to. He loves science.

It was when his arms were unwrapped from the chair (taking some arm hair away with it) that he did the same with the tape around his arms (taking away more arm hair). He used the surprise from NE 2 to quickly sock him in face, hitting hard enough to make him pass out but soft enough to not cause any many injuries or long-lasting damages. Thank you, Natasha pt. 2.

Before his body could hit the floor, the grabbed the chair and chucked it at NE 1. The sound of NE 2’s body hitting the floor caught both their attention, but only turned to be facing a chair flying at their face. Usually, he’s not so reckless with how he fights, but needed to get out of here before anyone finds out he was able to escape on his own. Especially with having video footage of him looking scared and weak while being tied to a chair.

So instead of doing his initial escape, he went to each of the three men, checked if they were passed out (they were, easy ahh fight), and then searched the room to try and find the duct tape they used.

He found it tucked away under a pile of jackets and quickly grabbed it, running back to the chair. He quickly put it back up, setting it up in about the same position as it was when he was being recorded. Before he sat down though, he realized he needed to do something to himself to make it look like he has a reason for being unconscious.

He looked around in a slight panic, decided to grab the hand of the unconscious NE 2. He wrapped the man’s hands around his throat and pressed hard, choking himself with the force of his own grip. He didn’t stop until he was seeing stars, knowing that should be enough to create a giant blue and purple bruise.

He ran back over to the chair, picking up the duct tape and taping his legs back onto the legs of the chair. He started taping his hands to the side of the back rest, not really caring if it wasn’t the same set up as what was being recorded. It’s not like whoever watched it was going to analyze how his arms were positioned.

He heard a soft roar coming up gradually from outside. His panic started shooting through the roof. How fast were these people? He knew Bruce Wayne probably had powerful people in his grasp, but to respond this quickly? Especially to a possible bastard grandson? Crazy work if you ask him.

He used one of his webs to help wrap his other hand up before pocketing it in his mouth and then spitting it out as far away as possible. It landed on EG’s back, looking like a web design on his black leather jacket. Nice. Totally what he was aiming for.

He was able to shimmy the blindfold back over his eyes, falling on his side in the process. You know what, that’s going to help in looking convincing, so he’ll take it. Whatever bruise he has should still heal faster than the normal pace.

He heard the soft rumbling come to stop, light, almost undetectable footsteps quickly surrounding the placed. His heart was beating a mile a minute, his adrenaline not going away. He tried to slow his breathing down, but it was going very, very slowly.

There was light whispering happening, so quiet he couldn’t catch any of the pronunciations. Until one loud and commanding voice called out: “All clear.” Multiple heartbeats became clear to him, most of them jumping down into their vicinity.

He tried to slow his breathing again, chanting in his head to calm down. He heard 2 pairs of footsteps shuffle towards him. He’s glad he put the blindfold over his eyes or else he wouldn’t have been able to hide his pupils trying to track the sound of movement under his eyelids.

He heard a short gasp as his senses started going off, tingling along his neck. He was prepared for the touch, able to stay as still as possible and not flinching from shock. 1 pt to spidey senses.

“He’s alive,” the voice that was positioned behind his back stated, low and clipped. No emotions being given away.

The person in front of him moved his finger along his neck, seeming to trace whatever mark was there from the hands. “To use this much force on a kid. Was this a planned ransom or some criminals trying to make some fast cash?”

The voice was familiar, but he doesn’t know why. “There’s only three bodies from the criminals so I’m assuming a desperate attempt at getting money.”

“But what about the amount of people the others fought off? Desperate attempt for money wouldn’t include that many people?”

The other guy seemed to hum in thought. “We can figure that out later. For now, we need to make sure he gets the proper medical screening. We don’t know what else they did to him.”

The one in front hummed in agreeance. Another voice from farther away, seemingly standing over NE 1 and EG spoke up, “Do we know who did this? They just left everyone unconscious. Didn’t seem like they came here for anything.”

The voice behind him spoke again. “You guys start an investigation; Night Wing and I will bring him back to Agent A to get him checked out and fixed up.”

Night Wing!? Like leader of the Batkids Night Wing?! Does that mean Batman is here? Is it the guy behind him? If he goes back to their cave, he’s fucked. They might do DNA or whatever and see he has powers and kick him out or kill him. But he can’t give away that he’s been pretending to be unconscious this whole time.

And now he’s being picked up. Fuck. What is he going to do? He felt himself be carried bridal style, feeling the cold outside air slap him in the face. He still didn’t flinch. 2 pts to spidey senses.

There was some shifting as he got put into what he assumed to be the backseat of a car, having a blanket or jacket or something be put under his head. Senses made the area around his eyes tingle before he felt someone start pulling at the blindfold. Now he started to chant to relax his eyes.

He tried to come across as relaxed as possible even though he was internally freaking out and trying to plan an actual escape this time. “He looks so calm for what he just went through.” Night Wing said. He was now positioned above his head, probably looking at him through the car door. Not creepy at all.

“Probably because he’s unconscious.” A new voice spoke up.

“Jesus! Signal, maybe let us know when you’re behind us?” Night Wing said.

“Did I just sneak up on you?! I did! I just snuck up on you! Oh, I’m never letting you live that down. Just you wait Blue!” It sounded like someone was jumping around and clapping their hands. What the fuck is going on.

Night Wing closed the door before rocking the car by getting into the passenger seat. Back voice, probably Batman, already got in the car, starting it as soon as Night Wing sat down. They started driving away, Peter keeping his eyes closed the whole time.

He’s so fucked.

Chapter Text

For breaking the laws and going as physically possible his bike would let him, the drive back to the cave felt like forever. Or maybe it was waiting to actually get on the bike.

Before he was able to leave, he had to wait with Signal and Spoiler (worst kids to leave behind with villains) until the Gordon showed up to give a run-down on what happened, along with controlling media coverage of the events. A simple drug bust in daylight is what they’re saying. The dealers tried to do it during an unusual time to try and avoid the eyes of enforcement. That’s the story.

Luckily Gordon seemed to control how many journalists and news outlets showed up as barely any were covering the scene. The three of them were “surprisingly professional” as articles would later come out saying, only because they were trying to wrap up as soon as possible to get back to the cave.

So now here he was, what felt like an hour later, finally zooming into the cave. As much as he care about his equipment, he’s not as much of a stickler as Jason and didn’t care if his leg stand landed right. And if his bike fell over while he ran to the med bay, he was too anxious to care.

As he was running, the images of Parker were flying through his mind. He didn’t get a good look as he was taking care of one of the assailants, but he did see looked rough. The boy was blindfolded and looked drenched, along with a giant blue and purple bruise around his throat. He never got to inspect closely to see any other injuries on him, hidden or not.

When he burst through the medbay doors, four heads whipped around to look at him. Alfred was the only one not glaring at him initially. Bruce’s and Dick’s faced calmed as soon as they realized it was him, but Damain kept the glare focused on him. No surprise there.

He ignored the glare from him as he walked towards Parker, wanting to see if he’s okay. The bruising around his neck is darker than he remembered. Either he just didn’t see it clearly the first time or it’s gotten worse, which means he was choked a little before they got there. He knew they should’ve left earlier.

Parker, although looking worse for wear, seemed to be sleeping like a baby. His face was relaxed, eyes comfortably shut, and breathing steady, although still a little raspy. He saw he was mostly already stitched up, bandages lining his body and wrapping around his wrists and ankles. Probably from rope burn.

Alfred cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention. “Dinner will be ready in a minute. Come upstairs to help me set up the table. All of you,” he said, giving his pointed stare at Dick.

They all quietly shuffled out the bay, following one another in a loose line up the stairs to the manor. “How do you think they know he’s Dick’s?” Damain spoke up, having the mentioned man tense up a little. Tim couldn’t pick out the reason why but he made sure to watch his movements more closely.

“DNA testing, they knew his mother, speculation. We’ll look into it,” Bruce said with the same stoic voice, his mind still not out of the batman mindset even though the mission was completely quickly.

Which brought a question to his own mind. “Who do you think was there? I mean, how could the kidnappers be knocked out and yet Parker was still tied up and unconscious?”

A voice spoke up from below the stairs: “It had to be Webslinger. Some of his webs were left at the scene. It was stuck to the back of one of the kidnappers.” It was Steph’s voice. He looked over the railing, watching her as she started to run to catch up to them. “Don’t worry about Signal. He’s talking with Gordan and the press. Promised he’ll be home before dinner.” Alfred just hummed in response before continuing to head up. They all followed as they continued to speculate about the kidnapping.

So far the idea is:

                  -some scums who tried to pull a quick one on the richest man in the world for some quick change

                  -no concrete evidence of Parker being Dick’s son

-they need to somehow give Parker self-defense lessons

-Webslinger was involved somehow

-it might not be as simple as they thought

It was decided that whoever next ran into Webslinger would ask him about the situation. He might give something away to let them know if something really does go deeper. The thing that was confusing Tim was if they were just run of mill criminals who tried something new, why were there so many goons trying to kidnap all the Wayne kids?

Conversation stopped as they all heard the front door slam open. Duke was home. It took less than a second for him to come running into the dining room, eyes wide as he seemed to be high on adrenaline. “I didn’t tell Gordan about Parker and press believe it was a drug run. Where is Parker?”

“In the medbay.” Alfred answered calmly, completely opposite of Duke’s rushed speaking. He went back into the kitchen, finishing up what smelled to be a beef stew. Homely.

“Do we know yet?” At this, everyone gave him a confused look. He rolled his eyes in response as if the question was the easiest thing to answer in the world. “If he’s Dick’s?” Never mind, that probably was the obvious question.

Bruce answered this one. “The test is running right now but it’ll take a little bit longer. Probably in the next hour or so.”

“Isn’t it just checking for similarities within his and Dick’s DNA? Why would that take an hour?” Steph asked.

“They’re probably running a diagnostic on all of his DNA. It is a theory that he’s a meta with powers that involve time. I wouldn’t doubt they’re running another program alongside DNA reading to find if he has the meta-gene.” As Tim voiced his hypothesis, Bruce and Damian nodded along. Even though he’s already gotten enough praise for his deductive reasoning, it feels good when anyone in the family acknowledges it, even if subconsciously. He always uses it against Damain whenever they have a fight.

Duke had an uncomfortable look on his face, but before he could speak up, Alfred came into the room carrying a large pot and setting it down in the middle of the table. Everyone found their respective seats, knowing the unspoken rule of sitting down once dinner is being served.

“How are we going to break the news to Parker?” Damain asked this time, putting the dining napkin in his lap. Alfred continued to bring out some appetizers and sides, including steamed rolls and creamed corn.

“Just tell him we saw the videos and we’re taking him in,” Steph said as she reached for a roll. Dick lightly slapped her hand away, giving her a small glance telling her to wait. She rolled her eyes in response and leaned further back into her chair.

“That’s basically kidnapping him,” I replied, incredulous at the idea that they think they can just take someone. Although he has to remind himself that it’s nothing new with this family. He was an outlier.

“Tim’s right,” Dick stated. Is it ‘praise Tim’ time? He’s not complaining but still. “We don’t even know if he would want to stay here.” There was a hint of sadness in his voice. Most definitely an underlying thought that’s not just about Parker wanting to stay with them, but probably an uncertainty of whether Parker wants Dick. He made an executive decision then and there that he’ll never have kids.

Alfred went to stand in his usual corner, another silent signal that dinner is now ready to eat. Conversations flowed easily between them. Sometimes splitting up into one to one or small conversations, other times coming together for a whole table conversation. Parker would be brought up sometimes. Overall, the dinner was nicer than usual. No food throwing (surprisingly) and no knife stabbing, so a success in Tim’s books.

While most of them were helping clean up the table, both Tim and Damain headed back down to the bat cave. It was their shift tonight, plus Tim could tell Damain was jumpy but in an excited way. Once it was mentioned that Webslinger might’ve been apart of the kidnapping, Damain seemed ready to go out all night.

As they made their way down to the batcave, Tim came to a realization. They never took off their suits. They never forget to take off their suits. He could worry about that later because he saw a blinking red sign on the giant monitor. Someone tried to get access into their files.

“Tim,” Damain’s voice called out, a little frantic and farther away than time should’ve allowed. He rushed over to where Damain was, looking past his shoulder into the medbay. Parker wasn’t there. The medical bed he was left on was vacant, leaving only a ruffled up blanket, an oxygen mask, and a pulled out IV tube.

“Go tell Bruce. I’ll check the cams,” Tim ordered out as he rushed to the monitor. There should’ve been an alarm going off in the house if he got out. They have security measures to make sure no one gets in or out of the property without anyone noticing.

As he quickly pulled up the camera feeds, he found the feedback to only show static. He rewound the feed to right before they all left to go upstairs. He watched both videos that showed inside the medbay and around the monitor. It took a solid 20 minutes of Parker just laying there before the feed went static. Nothing showing up from around the monitor as well.

“Babs, did you see anything?” he asked out into the air as a stampede of foots came running down into the cave. Dick the first of the group ran straight to the medbay, searching in impossible hiding spots to try and find the boy.

No response from babs. He quickly got to work, getting to the coding and looking through all the programs set up. Once he got to their direct feed, he started to looks for what could’ve changed in the feeds. Bruce pulled him away from the monitors though, cutting him off from his searching.

“You and Damain go out and look for him. I’ll fix the programing and coding,” he such with a firm voice, leaving no room for arguments.

“I’m going with them,” Dick spoke up as he came out from the medbay.

“No. You’re staying here and going through the results with me,” Bruce responded. Tim looked back at the giant screen, and amongst all the codes on the screen and the bright blinking red sign behind all that was a small notification that the DNA reading was finished.

Well, time for him to become a Bruce and kidnap a kid. Tim and Damain both rushed out of the cave, both knowing which way they planned to go to find the possible son of their brother.

---

As soon as he heard the giant metal door leading to wherever he was taken close, a piece of his suit slowly crawled up his neck. It kept itself near his back, hoping to keep out of site of the possible cameras in here. As his suit kept slowly moving, he felt Archie crawl out from the bottom of his shirt onto the bed he was positioned on.

With his eyes still closed, he couldn’t see what was happening, but could feel the little taps of Archie’s arms through the small vibrations they caused. After a couple more seconds, the piece of his suit that was extending finally reached his ear, putting in a piece small enough to not be noticeable but still allow him to listen to whatever Archie and Karen say to him.

It didn’t take long for Archie to find the main console for most of their programing and coding. Score. They need to organize more and space things out because having it all in one spot is dangerous. Archie was searching through the codes for the feedback from whatever cameras they had. It took a couple minutes but he soon found it.

One click of the delete button cut off the whole feed, Peter jumping up quickly and blinking his eyes in fast recession. He stumbled around the bed a little bit, his legs not used to the weight after playing dead for so long. He pulled out the IV from his arm and took off the oxygen mask, laying them carefully on the bed.

When walking out of what seemed to be a medical room, he came face to face with a giant monitor on what seemed to be a rock wall. What? He saw Archie still connected into the programing, seemingly trying to block some other stuff out.

Karen told him he’s changing some more codes in case there are any back-up surveillance and to get those deleted since he already got up. There was also a system connected to this computer that had access to everything, and Archie cut them off from it as well. Peter felt pride in Archie for blocking out what could’ve been a hacker. Very bad for the bat clan.

Once they were all positive that his sneaking out wouldn’t be caught until they don’t find him there, Peter finally allowed himself to look around. And what he found shocked him. It was a literal cave. A cave with a bunch of resting at the top. And he thought he was being too judgmental of how into the bat schtick this guy was.

Although he couldn’t really blame him. It is really cool when you think about it. He crawled along some railings and along the walls, checking out some of the cool hidden places in here. Like the garage. They had cars in here dedicated to some of the members, all with 100% illegal modifications. Tony would be so jealous.

He fought off the feeling of sadness and guilt by trying to continue to look around. As cool as this place was, everything just kept reminding him of Tony. The display of suits (cool but very much resembled Tony’s), the engineering room (he geeked out at all the stuff but still reminded him of the space Tony gave him at the tower), and an accumulation of all the small things placed throughout the cave. Although the lief-sized dinosaur was something Tony didn’t have.

He found his backpack stashed somewhere and felt relieved to see that it hasn’t been gone through. The he left, feeling a sense of sorrowful nostalgia, and started to swing his way back to his lovely home under the bridge. His suit deployed along the way, in case there some unaccounted cameras outside that didn’t connect to that monitor specifically.

The swing home was nice and relax, allowing his mind to wonder from Tony to the life he had here and what’s happened so far. It doesn’t feel like a lot but at the same time, it feels like an indescribable number of things has happened. Maybe he’s just used to it. Of all the things that affect his life. It’s normal for his life to be turned upside down wherever he goes.

When he got back to his cocoon of a house, he immediately flopped onto the space he made specifically to be his bed (he went stupid crazy with the amount of webbing to make a comfortably padded space). And just when he was about to fall asleep for real, a notification rang out from his phone.

He reached inside his backpack, taking out the device and checking what notification popped up. Two notifications were there actually. One from less than a minute ago, and one a couple hours ago.

The first read out:

Damain: where are you?

He stared shocked at the text for a bit. He didn’t leave that long ago and the bat clan must’ve just found out about him going missing. The Waynes and the Bats must be closer than he initially thought. He’ll have to look into it another day.

The other notification was a reminder. For tomorrow. For his uniform fitting. He groaned as he lightly threw his phone to side, faceplanting into the pillow he took from the apartment. He let himself fall asleep to the sound of cars driving overhead, letting the rhythm rumbling of the bridge foundations rock him to sleep.

---

Although finally getting some sleep last night, his body felt a lot slower and heavier than usual. His arms were sore from all the swinging he was doing, but the small voice in the back of his head told him it was better to stay off the ground for now.

His swings weren’t as precise as usual, and he was miscalculating his swings constantly. When he finally saw the school in the distance, he felt his body get lighter, giving him an extra push to swing into a nearby alley.

Once he landed there, he quickly deactivated his suit, having it crawl back into his hidden chest plate. He quickly took off his shirt, allowing the freedom of detaching the chest plate. When out of contact with his torso, it folded up into itself and just looked like a small flat piece of technology shaped like a spider.

He quickly stuffed it into his bag, pulling his shirt back on, and walking out of the alley. It didn’t even take a minute for him to walk to the entrance of the school, but he stopped before ever actually entering.

He could voices in there. Obviously there would be voices, but very specific voices. They belonged to Tim and Damain, along with the other two kids that he met before his kidnapping. And they were talking about him.

Mostly about how they need to keep waiting for him with the occasional, “how to bring him home.” Yay, more kidnapping.

He looked around and when he saw another person about to enter the building, he quickly stepped behind them, hoping that the boy’s body would cover his own. It seemed to work as they didn’t pay the kid in front of him any mind.

He starts to navigate the halls of the school by himself, trying to find the room he was scheduled in. It didn’t take too long luckily, for the classrooms being used for the fittings were relatively close to the front.

There was a small line forming through the door. He stood behind a blonde haired girl who was constantly fidgeting with her phone. Going back and forth between apps and occasionally looking up to see if the line moved at all.

Everyone else in the line seemed to be nervous to, either fidgeting with their hands, picking at things at their clothes, or tapping their foots quickly against the floor. Why were people nervous today?

He was about the ask the girl in front of him when he felt a tap on his back. When he turned around, he saw Damain standing behind him, arms crossed and face barely unreadable. The only thing he could see was slight annoyance directed at Peter. Why was he annoyed with him?

“Where were you?” the boy asked, eyes not moving off of Peter’s face.

“What?” he asked, shocked at the blatant tone of annoyance in his voice. Okay, so he’s not trying to hide it.

“Where were you?” he asked again.

“I don’t know what you mean by that,” he responded back. He has a good guess by what he means, but it somehow felt wrong to answer such a vague question.

“What was the last thing you remember after all the events that happened,” he stated more plainly, acting as if expanding his own question was too much to ask for.

“Oh, uh.” Lie, Peter. Lie! “I just remember passing out after one of the men choked me, and then waking up back in my, uh, room. Honestly thought it was some weird dream at first but by your reaction, I’m guessing it’s not.”

And the reaction he was talking about was Damain’s wide eyes and utter, unfiltered shock that contorted his whole face. The clearest emotion he’s ever seen on the boy. “You just woke up? You don’t remember anything in between? No one coming in and beating the men up? No weird vigilante or anything?”

He pretended to think about it before shaking his head. “Pretty sure I was out cold before anything could’ve happened.” A skeptical look came over Damain’s face. Was he too laid back when answering? He forgot to be traumatized from the experience. Another lie! “Don’t worry about anything. I have pretty good luck with things like this. It’s like I have some guardian angel or something that likes to interfere, haha.”

That laugh came off a little too nervous. Great job Peter! He turned around to face the font, only to realize the line went up. He quickly shuffled through the door, standing behind the girl once again. He was now third in line, making a firm decision to pay attention to the front of the line. Totally not to purposefully ignore Damain.

He could feel the judgment coming from Damain’s gaze, even without seeing them. It didn’t take too long for him to get to the front. As his name was being called, Damain tapped his shoulder again, gaining his attention. “Are you sure you want to do this with the bandages and the giant bruise on your neck?” he asked with such a monotone voice.

Peter felt his face go flush. He took off his chest plate to hide being a vigilante, but never thought about all the unhealed injuries he has over his body. While his healing factor took care of a lot of the minor cuts from being thrown around, it’s still taking longer than normal to deal with the bigger injuries like bruises or rope burn (all mostly his fault).

He quickly turned back around, making his way to the person who called his name and following her back into a closed off space. The whole procedure was quick. They quickly had him try on some blazers and pants, taking notes on how to tailor them, along with a button up and some shoes. They didn’t ask about how beat up he was, simply ignoring them to do their job.

Once everything was finished, he pulled his shirt over his head, zipped up his pants, and all but ran out of the building. Luckily he didn’t run into Tim or anyone else connected to Waynes as he was leaving, allowing for a somewhat relieved sense to fall over him. He was starting to walk back to the ally when he felt a slight chill go up his spine.

Watching

Someone was watching him? His senses didn’t let him know if whoever was watching him had any bad intentions or he just caught a random person’s eye. He thought turning the corner would make it go away, but it stayed on him. Not good.

Still no animosity, but if he had eyes tracking him, he couldn’t put his chest plate back on in the ally. Well, he’s used to disappearing. You know, with the whole magic act and everything. Hahaha, definitely not the time to think back on still somewhat recent trauma.

He continues to walk down a couple blocks, minutes passing by as quickly as the cars driving down the street. As he turns a corner, he tries to side eye the sidewalk, but there’s too many people in this area to see anyone specifically watching him.

He keeps walking, letting another couple minutes go by before pretending he has to answer a phone call. He pulls it out, quickly opening up a line to Karen. “Direct me through the streets. Someone’s following me,” he whispers as he walks.

A couple seconds go by before she speaks up. “Walk straight to the next intersection. Walk across at the last second.” He did as told, quickly redirecting his direction to walk across the street, dodging cars as they honked at him to get out of the way. Jaywalking probably wasn’t something new here.

As he got to the other side, he did a quick little look back and saw someone looking at him from across the street. They had a hood covering they’re face, casting it in a shadow, but there was no doubt that they were watching Peter. No need to hide that he’s trying to get away now.

He ran down the street, not caring to look back to see if the man chased after him and followed Karen’s instructions. Sneak through an ally, take random turns. Maneuvers like that.

Somehow, he still felt like he was being watched. Was it that same man? He took another look back before turning the corner, not seeing anyone behind him. Before he could turn his head around to see in front of him, he bumped into someone, almost stumbling back. The person he bumped into caught him almost as soon as contact was made, leaving no time for Peter to find his own balance.

When he looked up, he saw it was the man that was following him before. Well fuck.

He immediately pulled back, getting out of the man’s grasp. Which was strange because the man didn’t try to hold onto him. It didn’t even take a second of studying the man’s face when he realized who it was. The scar in the shape of a J stark against his pale skin.

“You?” he called out, confusion and accusation in his voice. Yet funnily enough, the feeling of being watched went away. And it definitely wasn’t because he was interacting with the person who could’ve caused those feelings. Someone else was watching him.

He tried looking around, seeing if anyone else suspicious looking was in the area but nobody stood out. Actually, nobody was around. What? Not creepy at all.

Jackson, that was his name right? He grabbed Peter’s attention, starting to drag (lead) him to a motorcycle resting on the sidewalk. With the reaction Tim had to seeing this man last time, Peter doesn’t know if he is trustworthy.

To be fair, no one in Gotham is trustworthy, but that doesn’t mean he’ll just go with this man. He hasn’t even given an explanation on why he followed Peter and why he’s dragging him to the motorcycle. It’s like a more civilized kidnapping.

When Jackson let go of his arm, going to grab the helmet off the bike, Peter booked it. He ran as quietly as he can, running back into the alley. As soon as he turned the corner, he basically ripped open his bag and pulled out the chest plate, throwing it onto his body, clothes be dammed, and activated the suit. Without the feeling of being watched, he had no anxiety in being caught.

Almost as soon as he started swinging, the man yell out a quick “fuck!” before the sound of the motorcycle starting up was heard. He kept swinging. Soon he saw the motorcycle rounding the corner but didn’t have any worries of being caught. He had his suit on.

And yet as he swung, the motorcycle started following him. Peter groaned under the mask. Can he get a break? He looked back to see Jackson following him, but instead it was Pill Head. Pill Head?!

He stops and turns around, resting on top of one of the stop lights. Is he getting Déjà vu? The man stopped his bike a little bit away from the light. It was still somewhat day time and yet there were no cars out on the road. It’s something he’s noticed without actually noticing. There are very little cars out and about.

“Hey Pill Head, what’s up?” he called out to the man on the motorcycle. The only response he got from the man was a revving of the motorcycle. “Hey, I thought we were friends. Aren’t you happy to see me?”

At that question, Pill Head pulled out to handguns that were resting on the side of his bike, close to his thighs. There was almost no time to react as he started shooting. But he’s Spider-Man so he knew he was about to get shot at. He immediately dodged by falling backwards and shooting a web to a building on his side. He let himself be slingshot-ed to the street parallel to them, trying to escape the man.

The motorcycle immediately started up and followed him, but Spider-Man was quick, taking turns quickly onto different streets instead of going down one road. One, it would be easier to lose his tail as he changes direction constantly; Two, it slows down his tail as it’s not easy making sudden turns on a giant bike; and Three, it’s fun to show up behind them and see them disoriented.

But as he swung around a building to show up behind Pill Head, his senses were screaming at him to dodge.

Infront! Round Corner! Watch Out!!!

But he couldn’t do anything about it because his momentum was too strong that if he were to change it, his shoulder would most likely dislocate. So, he braced for what he guessed was the rubber bullet.

And yet he felt the wind knock out of him. What the heck? He felt himself falling as he tried to regain the oxygen pushed out of his lungs, disoriented as buildings kept whipping around him. As soon as he felt the air rush back into his lungs, they went right back out as his torso crashed onto the curb of concrete sidewalk.

He still didn’t know what knocked him out but he tried to get himself orientated quickly so whatever happened wouldn’t happen again. As he rolled over to push himself up, a shadow fell over him, quickly followed by a foot pressed against his back. He could push it off easily, but his senses weren’t telling him he was in immediate danger and he needed to give himself time to collect himself.

Pill Head started speaking, but it wasn’t directed at him; “That was unnecessary.” It was said in a strict and somewhat menacing tone.

A kid’s voice, modified by a voice blocker like Pill Head’s, snapped back: “Everyone said he’s tuff and yet he keeps getting away. I’m using the necessary force needed.” There was a little more bickering where some information was being thrown like it was nothing.

Pill Head used to work with them under Batman who they love to call “B.” Pill Head is only doing a temporary team up with them for him (he feels special) yet he disagrees with the reason why. The reason why isn’t specified. And lastly, they hate each other. He felt Pill Head’s foot loosen up on him and he used it as a quick escape, sliding out form the foot and quickly webbing a building to shoot off away from them.

A chase ensued immediately. It was harder keeping whoever the kid was off his tail, only getting glimpses of him in the well-known Robin colors. Okay, so now he’s meeting the youngest addition to the Bat Family. He can’t remember if the kid was there during his rescue since all he could really pick apart were modulated voices.

The kid was a little spider-monkey as he dodged every web Spider-Man threw at him. He knew there was no chance at talking or quipping like usual. The pain in his back was still very prominent and he needed to focus on the escape. The lack of oxygen made him a little woozy so he was doing the best he could.

By some divine intervention, he was able to trick Robin into thinking he went into an abandoned building and was able to get quiet a few blocks away and change back into Peter Parker. So right now, neither identity is safe. Nothing new.

He kept to the shadows and slightly used his abilities to be able to get back to his bridge without any issues. He immediately crashed on the webbed-bed and let himself fall asleep to let his body’s energy focus on healing.

---

When he woke up, his back still ached but it wasn’t as stiff as before. He could move around with little to no pain. Good, because he planned to go out that night as Spider-Man and try and track down who kidnapped him.

Ya, technically he didn’t have to because he knows the reason why and he knows the Bats are on it, but then that just leaves him susceptible to more kidnappings if they’re running out and about.

So after changing into his suit with the safety of his home, he went back to the crime scene. His senses were telling him that no one was around so he had some fun with it and stalked in the shadows, overexaggerating how he believed Batman to move. He wouldn’t know how the man-of-shadows actually moves since he never actually met the guy one-on-one. And honestly hopes he never will.

He continued and amped up the theatrics the closer he got to the school. As he came across the building, he immediately jumped to be resting his back against one of the side walls. He pressed the center of his suit to release Archie, whispering out a command to the robotic spider.

As Archie went to scan the outside area near the doors and the surrounding areas to see if there was evidence left behind that no one has picked up the last two days, Peter went to the roof to find a way into the School building. As he scaled the roof, he found a couple skylights leading to the halls of the school.

He easily opened the closest one to him, slipping inside and sneaking his way to the security office. Usually there’s another door that leads to a CCTV monitor room but it was all in the giant room. He was able to quickly find the main console. They literally labeled it. And he thought a Prep School housing the richest people of Gotham would have tighter security but he seemed to have assumed too much.

Since the incident only happened two days ago, it wasn’t hard finding the recorded event of what happened out in front. He took out his phone and a cord connector, plugging it into the console and putting a copy of the videos plus some others that might be helpful into his device. When it was 18% uploaded, Karen spoke up, and scaring him a little bit. But he wouldn’t admit that.

“Archie is currently playing dead.” Well that’s not good. Peter made sure to add a feature to Archie that if he ever gets caught or senses a presence other than Peter, he powers off and deletes all programing in him, making him a robotic corpse. All info immediately goes to Karen though so nothing can get lost.

The only thing that stays on Archie is a tracking device. It’s not well hidden but usually whoever gets Archie doesn’t find it fast enough to beat Peter from getting to them. But that might not be the case this time as he has to wait for the upload to finish.

It feels like a millennia before the upload completed, but as soon as it did, he unplugged his phone and sprinted out of the building, going back out through the skylight. The GPS of Archie’s tracking device shone brightly in his goggles, showing him the straightest path towards the spider-bot.

It didn’t take long to catch up, especially because he had tunnel vision and just went as fast as he possibly could with jumping buildings and slingshot-ing himself. But as he caught up, eh saw the person, only a black outline, also sprinting and jumping around buildings. Moving fast but gracefully.

He was able to calculate the man’s movement and silently pushed himself off a byildin to intercept the man. But as soon as he got into range, the man, without warning, turned to the side and dodged Peter, both of them stopping in their tracks.

“Rarely have others been able to dodge me. Have I really gone down in skill that much?” he asked himself with a playful voice. He used those moments to assess the man in front of him. He was still covered by the shadows, no colors on him showing through. But his build was very lean accounting for his graceful movement earlier.

He didn’t need to assess further when the man spoke back. “Rarely have other gotten that close to getting me by surprise. I must say, I’m impressed.” Nightwing. And his guess was correct when the man stepped out of the shadows.

Peter let his body loosen to seem comfortable and carefree. And it seemed Nightwing noticed when a small smile went across his face at the motion. “Sorry to drop in so rudely but you have something that belongs to me and I couldn’t tell who you were from such a distance.”

The other just shrugged in response. “I understand, don’t worry about it.” Yet he made no movement to give back Archie.

They both stood on the roof of the random building, waiting for the other to instigate something. And it seemed to all depend on Peter what and how it would go. So he played the defeated man. He sighed and slumped down, sitting on the cold concrete roof that rested atop every regular-looking building in Gotham.

“So is there a reason you aren’t giving it back?” he asked, turning towards the still standing Nightwing. Peter’s a little surprised that the older didn’t follow his lead and sit down as well but you can’t always win the see-into-the-future contest.

“Well, it was at the scene of the kidnapping, along with your webs at the place the kidnapped was held. Even you’re not stupid enough to try and defend your position right now. Even if you’re innocent, we have to take into account your involvement.” He was still standing, watching Peter as he continued to stare out at the other buildings across from them.

And fuck, he was right. Maybe that’s why Red Hood and little Robin were being rough with him earlier. They needed him in as a witness. He let out another sigh, real this time. “Can you take a witness statement now?”

Nightwing laughed, finally sitting down next to Peter and relaxing his body as well. Peter could tell it was fake relaxation like his own. “I can’t guarantee it’ll grant your freedom.”

Peter couldn’t tell if that was said as a joke, or an actual warning masked as a joke. Whatever, he can still evade them for as long as he’s here. “First and foremost, you won’t find anything on the spider-bot—”

“—And I thought B was cliche”

“Hey! I wont’ stand for this slander!” he called out, making Nightwing let out a little chuckle before motioning for Peter to continue. “Anyways, I programmed it to delete all files if caught other than a tracking device because it isn’t connect to the robot’s programing. It’s basically a robot corpse.”

Nightwing stopped him before addressing him himself. “How do you even know I have it? I could’ve just scavenged it and taken the tracking device.”

“You’re not stupid enough to do that. And you wouldn’t have found it and traveled this far all at the same time.” Nightwing made a face that basically told him touché and so he continued on. “In terms of the webbing, I caught wind of suspicious activity that happened to be the kidnapping and attacked the people. But when I heard you guys coming I fled for an obvious reason, and also because I knew the boy would be better in your care.”

Nightwing seemed to wince at that. “Ya, well, that doesn’t seem to be the case. He escaped the same night.”

Time to act surprised. He jerked his body towards the older man, widening his eyes for the mask and screaming out a startled “what?!” His surprise-ness seemed to surprise Nightwing as the man jumped from the noise.

“We were having a team-meeting about the whole event and what to do with the boy, but then we went back down and he wasn’t there anymore. The cameras aren’t working and we can’t seem to find the reason why” As depressed and stressed as the older vigilante seemed, he couldn’t help but give himself a pat on the back.

“So never leave a kidnapped child with you lot, noted.” That seemed to make him worse as he slumped into himself. Not more joking about it, noted. “Do you think he was kidnapped again?”

Nightwing turned to look at him, a curious look on his face. “No. And we didn’t rule you out as the mastermind either.. But you’re seeming less and less like a kidnapper or bad guy every time I hear something about you.”

Another pat on the back. “Just trying to be your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man!” Another look from Nightwing. But this time the hero didn’t speak on whatever thought he had. “I know Big Batty doesn’t like people like me and tries to chase them out, but this is the only place I can be at the moment. And all I want to do is help.”

More thoughts swirling in the man’s head. “I can’t seem to figure you out,” was the only thing he said.

“All you need to know is that I’m awesome. And no matter what’s happened, you can always ask me for help.” He puffed out his chest and made sure the giant grin on his face was heard.

He laughed in response. “How did someone so bright end up in such a dangerous role in the world with skills that take grueling time to hone.”

He shrugged in response. “I could ask you the same,” he replied, hoping to show his resistance to the topic.

“I asked first.” So they’re doing this.

Another real sigh. He let himself lay back. This seemed to be a real truce they were having, and if he was wrong. Well, Nightwing better hope he isn’t wrong. “You have enough bad thigns happen to you that make you want to stop them from happening to others. And then you deal with worse and worse that you learn more and more to protect against those higher threats. Like hypothetical aliens invading New York, or a super-robot taking over all electronics to destroy the human race. Or even just some desperate guy blindly shooting a loved one and taking them away from a loving family.”

Shit, he probably said too much. Well, it’s not like he can go back and shove the words back down his throat. Silence settled between the two of them as they separately went through the words just spoken. God how he wishes he could also read minds.

“Those are some scary hypotheticals,” was all that was said.

He couldn’t help himself let out a sarcastic chuckle. “Probably nothing close to what you all have dealt with. I’ve read up on all you guys have done.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that they’re all scary. Just because you’ve dealt with something big doesn’t diminish the struggle a small thing can give you.” Damn, so they’re getting deep now.

“But it changes people.” He could see out of the corner of his eye the older nodding in agreement.

“Where are you from again?” And now its interrogation time.

“You wouldn’t know even if I tried explaining it to you. I will tell you this though. I’m only here trying to help me and someone else get back, and if that’s not possible, then make a good living for the both of us.” He decided a while ago that it’s better to hint at his two selves as being separated, even before their speculation because he knew it was bound to come. They both show up at the same time with no explanation of where and how and now both of them are on the bat’s radar.

“So you know the boy?” Okay, maybe he led it on too quickly.

“Yes, but he only knows of me. He doesn’t know me really and I plan to keep it that way. I’m here to protect him, while finding a way to get us back.”

“And does he know this? What importance is he to you?” He is prying into Parker more than he would’ve thought.

“Like I said, he only knows of me. Interrogating him about me will only get you my name, which you already have. He doesn’t know why he’s here but all I know is he wants to get back as well. He’s someone important to someone important to me.” Tony needed him back home. Pepper is too busy with Stark Industry to tend to him and Happy hasn’t been allowed normal visitation after making a scene (he thought he saw Tony’s hand twitch).

“What if he becomes someone important here? Then what?” Oh. That’s… a question alright.

He silence seemed to satisfy, or at least answer, the question. Nightwing stood up and held out his hand to help Spider-Man up, to which he took up the offer. “Get home safe spidey, and look after him. But I can’t promise we wont’ be doing something about the both of you.”

A great way to end the night. In a semi-menacing threat yet still an encouragement. At least he won’t have to fight his way out of this interaction.

---

As he watched the young vigilante swing off, he allowed himself to finally relax his body, despite the appearance of it he gave to the spider boy. Investigation leading to random interrogation usually would help his case and further the evidence he has, but instead he got nothing.

When he reached into his utility belt to retrieve the spider-bot he gathered from the lawn of the school, it wasn’t there. All that was there was a thin little string of synthetic web showing that Spider-Man was able to sneakily get his gear back.

He should’ve been able to see it earlier or at least guess. The kid did the same thing as him. Show a relaxed exterior yet be ready to jump if needed. How long has he been at this to be able to do such a thing and hide it so well?

He tried to get some answers tonight but there wasn’t much. Only that Spider-Man and Parker seem to know each other, but the extent of that is unknown. And now Damian’s theories of where Parker came from is now pinned onto Spider-Man. While it was quickly questioned if the two are connected since they arrived around somewhat the same time, they never investigated it. But it seems they had to.

He made his way back to the manor, his night out focusing solely on figuring out the people behind the kidnapping. The men who did the dirty work weren’t talking and had to be sent with Gotham’s PD despite the request of Batman himself.

So with his “witness statement” acquired, he made the decision to call this patrol over and spend the rest of his vigilante time with piecing together what he knows and reading between every line possible of what the Spider-Boy told him.

It didn’t take long for him to reach the entrance of the cave, almost immediately being bombarded with questions from the rest of the Wayne’s that weren’t out tonight. But before he could speak a word, the news station on the monitor caught his attention.

The segment description was running along the bottom of the screen, reading:

DAYTIME DRUG DEALERS FOUND DEAD IN POLICE CUSTODY. SUSPECT OF MURDER UNKOWN.

When he wasn’t responding to any of the questions from the family, they turned to see what he was looking at, the cave going quiet immediately other than the sound of the bats fluttering their wings.

The news reporter was relaying the information they had, which was close to nothing, and how any further information the police have isn’t being shared with the public at the moment.

Just what was going on surrounding Parker?

Chapter Text

It took a lot of convincing for Pepper to let Tony take a “breath of fresh air” out of the building. She made sure he knew “not to do anything stupid,” and that “it’s more complicated than it seems.” Either way, he was going to figure what was complicated and how to fix it. If it’s by using the time machine again or strangling the Doctor, he’ll get the kid back.

Escaping the hospital on a wheelchair isn’t easy. And then wheeling himself across the city to the New York Sanctum with his basically paralyzed arm while trying to keep his identity hidden was an accomplish he thinks beats any prior Iron Man feat. He shook that thought away almost immediately. While trying to keep his emotions up with humor, he shouldn’t be lying.

He took a calming breath and lifted his hand to knock. As his hand moved towards the door, it slowly creaked open, allowing Tony to see inside the … frost covered interior? He felt his chair slightly lift up and be placed inside before the doors swung shut behind him.

“Tony, what a surprise,” the wizards voice rang out as he slowly descended the stairs, hovering them of course. He was about to ask what happened in here when the man tried to do a simple landing but slipped on the ice-covered ground. He groaned as he caught himself, as if the act was something he got used to but was still annoyed with. “I’m not explaining what happened here again and I know you have questions other than that.”

“Where’s Peter,” he asked. Looking at the sorcerer in front of him, he could see the immediate change in demeanor.

“I knew the question was coming but I’m still unprepared to answer it.” That doesn’t sound good.

“What happened? Pepper told me he was taken. What was the situation?” Stephen’s sigh brought him out of the small panic he was feeling. It was probably the medicine Pepper made him take before he went out.

Stephen did his little magic tricks and floated him into another room. He feels like he should be offended but with the long roll he just did, he’s a little relieved. They sat down at a little coffee table in a not-so-creepy room with a lot of relics.

“What do you know about what happened after the final fight with Thanos?” he asked. He knew Strange was a Neurosurgeon before and that he worked with brains, but why is he starting to sound like a therapist?

“That it’s been a couple years. And that Peter is missing.” Another sigh from the wizard.

“Tony, a lot has happened in your absence. Especially with Peter.” And so started the rant. How Peter got recruited by Fury, how the glasses he gifted the boy were the main cause because he didn’t feel worthy, how Mysterio tricked everyone and turned Peter into the bad guy and released his identity. All of it. The first spell, the alternate-dimensional beings, May being killed.

“As the rift between universes grew wider, he decided to sacrifice his identity to fix it. Asking that everyone forgot who Peter Parker was so that there would be no one able to go through the rift and fight my sealing spell. I was hesitant but agreed. As I started both spells, something was able to get through the riff and immediately snatched Peter, dragging him through to another rip. And before I could do anything, the sealing spell was completed.”

Tony, in utter disbelief of what the boy had gone though, felt his body fall back into his chair. But something was nagging at him. “If you did both spells at the same time, how come only one completed?”

“When Pater got dragged through the rip, the spell to forget him didn’t have anyone to latch onto. As much as it would’ve affected everyone’s mind throughout every existing universe, it was only latched onto one singular dimensional person, and when leaving his dimension, it didn’t finish.”

He had the urge to run his hand over his face, to try and take away the nasty thoughts swirling around, but his body protested. Leaving him feeling the helplessness all over his body. He couldn’t do anything.

“I’ve been studying the spells used and seeing if there’s a way to locate and bring back Peter, but it’s been rough.”

They sat in silence for a bit, both staring off into space and thinking their own thoughts. “What do you need from me?”

Stephen sat up immediately. “Tony, I can’t ask that of you. You just woke up.”

“I don’t care. I’m getting him back.”

---

When the news showed the outside of the scene; one of the police department’s holding cell had been broken into by having the side wall blown up; Dick immediately jumped to his feet. He turned off the computer and immediately went to restock his gear. He didn’t lose much but he needed a new grapple gun because the one he had was running low on juice.

The rest followed suit, either running to restock like Dick, or put on their suits since they were off duty tonight. Just because someone is off duty doesn’t mean they go to bed at a reasonable time even though that was the reason there was shifts.

They all headed out as soon as they were ready, not waiting on the others. It was normal that they would all catch up to whoever was first and match their pace to arrive on time. The only times they have shown up separately is when a small matter comes up that they have to take care of.

But luckily, it was closer to the end of their usual shifts, so no wrong doings were going on. This allowed them to get to the scene in record time, probably because Dick was the ringleader this time.

There were still news anchors at the scene but none of them were actively reporting. At least that was the case until they showed up. Some rookie reporters tried coming up to ask them questions but more of the veteran on-scene anchors knew it was pointless and getting the best camera shot with narration is how they improvised.

The police officers didn’t try to stop them either as they entered through the blown-out wall. Tim was already on the case of recovering samples of the rubble while Cass and Damian went through the cell doors to scope out the rest of the scenery.

Bats, Tim, and Dick were left to investigate the cell itself. While it was close to morning, it was still dark out. None of the streetlights could reach the inside, even with the blown-out wall. Dick activated his night vision mode and looked around. Nothing. He turned around and immediately froze at the sight.

“Red. B. You need to see this,” he prompted. They both turned to look at what made Dick speak up.

One the wall, there was a message, dripping in some dark and thick liquid. One could only guess was blood. But the message wasn’t just your average words. It was a drawing. A simple drawing of a spider. Simple yet grotesque.

Before he could dissect the details of it, B’s voice echoed in his earpiece as he spoke next to him. “Back to the cave. Emergency meeting.” And with that, he turned and left. Dick and Tim followed after him and tried asking him what was so important that they couldn’t discuss it at the scene. But they got no response as he got into the Batmobile and threatening Tim that if he didn’t get in, he’d have to swing back.

Dick immediately took to the buildings, grappling his way back. Once everyone arrived, Bruce directed Babs to pull up the image that was captured through their masks. When the bloody image showed up, the others who haven’t seen it stopped their side conversations.

“Sorry but why is this so important to call an emergency meeting?” They’ve seen enough bloody messages for this to be a normal occurrence.

“Bringing in Webslinger is our top priority at the moment.” Chaos erupted. Questions thrown around about explanations and proper reasoning, others about strategies. Bruce was able to calm everyone down before getting more into detail. “He is very heavily connected to this case that has now caused and breaking-entering-murder-”

“-I can personally attest that Webslinger did not murder anyone tonight. He’s not our main subject,” Dick said after standing up from his seat. He literally got the witness testimony today, along with the fact that he got it during the time the break in happened.

Bruce stared him down, commanding him with his eyes to keep silent. “The webs on the kidnapper and in the layer, along with the spider drawing made out of blood. Even if he wasn’t the one doing the murdering or the kidnapping, he is still involved and has heavily interfered with our work. He has been on the loose as a low-risk outlier but that has since changed. I want him caught as soon as possible.”

Well, this is sure to bring some chaos.

---

With it being the first day of school today, most would think Peter would be more excited to walk through the front doors of the giant building. But instead, a giant yawn made its way out of his mouth, covered up by the sleeve of his jacket. If anyone asks, he did not stay up all night trying to listen in on the Bat-family conversation.

When grabbing Archie back from Night Wing, he placed a little tracking and listening device into his suit. Mostly for future uses to avoid the vigilante any other night, but tonight it seemed to come into use.

After a few more crime-stopping and lifesaving, he decided to be a nosy little arachnid and listen in to whatever the blue-birded hero was doing. But he tried to listen in, there was static. He got no feedback of the tracker being detached though.

After a couple minutes of deep coding, he found the issue. Wherever the vigilante was, it had a tech-blocker sort of thing that would block any signals unless it had a specific passkey within the coding.

It took probably half an hour to get an idea of what it the passkey was and then when he was able to upload the added passkey, there was another issue with the upload since the tech-blocker stopped that signal. He had to manually hack the blocking signal which probably took an hour and then wait for the passkey upload to actually go through. Once he was finally in, he caught the end of a conversation the Bat-fam was having about him.

So not tooootally wasted time. Did it keep him up for the rest of the 3 hours he had of that night? Yes, but it simultaneously kept him up to analyze and plan for the future, so he had little to no chance running into the dark lord and his minions.

But that seemed to come and bite him in the ass because he almost grabbed another student’s new uniform when coming to pick up. They repeatedly called out to him as he walked away with a Sydney Butcker’s uniform pack.

He changed, feeling a little tight because of the tailoring not fitting to the chest plate, and walked to his first class. The only other kid who was in the classroom was a boy who looked around his own age. Either he was a transfer student, a freshman who looks really old but got put in a high-level class, or he just got here super early. The student didn’t look up at Peter’s arrival which meant no starting interaction to try and make a friend.

The teacher waved Peter over, pulling out a couple sheets of papers. “Name?” she asked.

“Parker Grayson,” he stated. He could feel how fast the eyes of the student landed on him. Now he wants to notice him?

The teacher didn’t even try to hide her assessment of him. She looked down at her papers before pulling out another mini stack and handing it to him. “Your class schedule, school syllabus, and any other information you may need for this upcoming school year,” she said as if reciting an over said slogan.

Having a school syllabus instead of one per classroom is a new thing for him, but with being part of a school for the elites of this country, it shouldn’t be a surprise that they’re also strict with the teachers and how they operate as well.

It was the mostly the same syllabus that every teacher in the world has. No late work. No extra credit. Trip plans according to grade level and class type. Overall classroom rules that are monitored by cameras in the classroom (not weird at all). Basically, a lot of stuff that didn’t matter to most until end of year and they’re trying to work around the syllabus to get their grades up. Who knows. There’s always corruption in the world with the elites; he doubts that such social structure doesn’t exist here as well.

As more and more students walk in, more and more eyes jump to him and give him an assessment. Some out of hatred, others as a caution, few as entertainment. He also doesn’t doubt that his name is going to get him popular around this school one way or another. Wish he knew about the elites enough to not pick his old family name. But here he is.

Another thing he noticed with students were the ties. Everyone wore a necktie, but they were separated by color. Red or blue. And the people seemed to be separated by such a small indicator. He looked down at his tie and saw that he was wearing a red one.

He had a guess as to why the tie colors were different, but the small amount of pride he had didn’t want to admit it out loud. Mostly because of how embarrassing it is for the school to use such a tactic as a way of segregation, even if they had a good reason lined up.

Once the school bell rang twice with a five-minute interval between the two, the teacher got up out of her seat and walked to the front of the room. “Hello new students of the esteemed Gotham Academy. I will be your home room teacher for the rest of the year. On your schedule, you’ll see that home room lasts only 30 minutes. That means you all have 30 minutes of schoolwork time at the beginning of the day. If I see anyone doing something other than schoolwork, I will give you something to do. That doesn’t account for this first week and this first week only. Enjoy your time here at Gotham Academy.”

Another prepped speech. Is each teacher handed a script each morning or something? He just mentally shrugged as she went back to her desk and left the students to mingle among themselves. Peter looked around to try and find others to talk to. There was a boy with the same color tie as him on his left.

He hated to follow along with the visual separation the school initiated but if he wanted an easy school life, he had to play along. “Hey, uh, I’m Parker. What’s your schedule like?”

The boy just looked at him before pulling out his schedule. Peter looked over it hoping to have some connection. Even just a lunch would be fine. But there was nothing. “Man, it looks like we don’t have any classes together.”

The boy, who never said his name, snatched back his schedule, mumbling a “bummer” before going back to his phone. Okay, that was such a nice interaction. The rest of the kids around him wore the blue ties, and as much as he would love to test his luck, he didn’t want to already be labeled as a social outcast. New universe, new him.

So, for the first class and socializing time of his first day of school, he sat in silence. Once the 30 minutes were up, he grabbed his backpack and shimmied his way out of the classroom through the herd of students already forming. He already remembered the first couple of classes – the first one being English - and where they were located, the only problem was actually finding it in person.

It took a while, but most other students seemed to know where they were going so the halls cleared up pretty quickly. He had a minute left to spare when he entered the classroom. Looking around, most of the seats were taken up. He was ready to head to the closest isle seat, but some waving caught his attention.

When he looked up, Tim was there, waving at him with an excited look on his face. Oh great. He tried to put on an easy-going smile while mentally preparing himself for the questioning similar to Damian’s that should be coming up.

There was an open seat next to the boy, and on the aisle to. It’s not close to the front but he can’t win at everything. Tim was sitting in the middle and there was a blonde girl who seemed to be studying him pretty intently sitting on the other side of him. Tim motioned for him to sit down, so he did.

“Hey Parker. How was your homeroom class?” What? That’s it? I guess he’ll take it, but it’s a little weird.

“Not that exciting. Everyone just kind of sat around for 30 minutes on their phones,” he said. As he was thinking about it, the ties came to mind. And he couldn’t help but look down at their ties. Red.

Tim seemed to notice him looking at his tie. “Ya, it’s a stupid thing the school does. Blue ties are for paid entry, red ties for scholarship. They say it’s to show who earned their place, but it’s obviously meant to be a classist act.”

“Ya, I kind of already guessed that. But why do you have a red tie?” he asked.

“Don’t you remember me coming out from testing day?” he asked casually. But almost immediately his faced dropped to guilt. And the girl next to him slapped him on the shoulder. “Sorry, I’m sure you don’t want to talk about that day.”

Oh. He was trying to save him from have a trauma response. “Oh, no, don’t worry about it! I get into trouble like that a lot more than you think so it’s honestly fine.” Probably doesn’t help him worry any less but it will hopefully stop him from being so cautious.

“For someone who said they get into trouble a lot, you don’t seem to have the skills to help you out in those situations,” the girl butt in. Before he could even ask how she knew that Tim elbowed her back. “I’m Stephanie by the way. I walked out as you were being dragged away.”

Peter noticed she had a red tie on as well, which brought him back to the initial conversation and out of the awkward conversation about to happen. “So, about the tie?”

“Oh, right! Basically, Bruce challenges us to get into Gotham Prep with our brains instead of our status. But knowing the board, they would’ve passed us even if we failed. But Bruce took care of that as well and actually paid them to score us correctly,” Tim explained. Wow, he’s either the best Dad in the world making his children earn their success or he’s just being unnecessarily hard on them.

“That’s… something” was the only thing he could come up with.

Tim and Stephanie just nodded in response. “Wait, I wanna see your schedule,” Steph exclaimed. Almost as soon as the paper was out of his bag, Steph reached over and snagged it out of Peter’s hand. Tim just rolled her eyes at the antic, giving an apologetic look. She quickly looked over his schedule and a bright smile took over her face. “Tim, we all have lunch with him!” she exclaimed.

Tim himself seemed to brighten up at that. Steph handed back his schedule as she continued on. “You have each class with at least one of us, except your homeroom for some reason. So, if you ever need help for any reason at all, just come to us. I don’t know who you know but we can all introduce ourselves at lunch if yo-” Peter started blocking her out as she continued to ramble on. Tim seemed to be doing the same.

After class, Tim and Steph wouldn’t leave him alone as they walked him to his next class, Science. When he got to the door, Steph basically gave him an order of finding them at lunch, repeating directions of how to find them.

He basically begged them that he understood and for them to head to their class. Once they were gone, he walked inside and let out a quiet sigh. When he turned around, his eyes were immediately caught by the only familiar face in the room. Damian.

Oh, what was his luck with his schedule. He knows Steph said “you have each class with at least one of us,” but he assumed it meant their friend group. Is Steph part of the Wayne family? How many kids does this Bruce Wayne have?

Despite his assumptions, the class went by pretty smoothly. Damian didn’t talk to him at all, although a few glances were caught, but nothing awkward. He sat away from the boy, probably wished upon by the younger as well.

After this class was lunch, which felt like it was too soon, but then remembering that they only had half their classes today, it made a little more sense. He could barely take a step out of the classroom before someone called out his name. He turned around to see Damian slinging his backpack on. “Not waiting is a little rude,” he stated out very bluntly before walking past him. Talk about not waiting.

Peter was a little confused as to why he had to wait and then follow the younger, but he did. He should be able to split soon so he could grab some food and then find a secluded place to eat.

As they continued walking, they finally reached a giant auditorium looking room. Upon Damian opening the doors, he saw it was just a giant, spaced out cafeteria with tables and seats put out like a fast-food restraint interior. Fancy in his eyes, probably cheap in most of the other student’s eyes.

Damian just kept walking, not even looking back to see if he was following. As Peter continued to follow, he felt eyes following him. He shouldn’t be surprised news of him spread around already, but it was still unsettling.

When they got closer to the table, Steph basically cheered out a “Parker!” as she stood up and waved towards the two walking closer to the table.

Now all eyes were for sure on him. He carefully sat down, very aware at the absence of food in front of him. He was very much looking forward to the unlimited amount of food he could get because of the scholarship, but it seemed the Wayne group had other plans. “Where’s Duke?” Damian asked.

Duke? Is that the other boy who he saw when he got kidnapped? He wouldn’t doubt it. “He got held up in class. He thinks the teacher is going to try and get on his good side to get on Bruce’s good side,” Tim answered.

Steph just snorted in response. “He should know better,” was all she responded with.

“Well, he’s still kind of new to this, of course it would be hard for him to be upfront,” Tim reasoned. Wait, are they talking about Duke?

“I’m newer than Duke and I know better,” seems like it. But why are they berating Duke?! It’s not his fault someone’s trying to take advantage of him.

Tim once again rolled his eyes. Does he do that often, or is something only for school? “You’re you. He’s him. Parker, so you don’t get bullied by Damian, if someone tries to befriend you to get closer to the Wayne’s don’t even entertain them.” Oh, okay. It probably happens so much that it’s not something to bother with pleasing others with false apologies.

He just nodded in understanding as they all fell into their normal conversation. He didn’t even want to try and understand. “I know, I know, I need to snip it at the bud, but I’m still getting used to saying no to someone who comes across like that.”

They all gave simple reassuring remarks as the new addition sat down. He sat between Tim and Damian. Peter was stuck between Damian and Steph, so if he tried to get up to get food, he’d probably be dragged back to his seat.

His stomach seemed to protest the assumed outcome as it grumbled. Tim looked at him a little apologetically. “Perfect timing Duke,” he said before pulling out a giant box. How did he not notice that before. He started taking out smaller boxes, spreading it out around the table as the others started opening them up. It was a pre-planned and packaged buffet. The last thing Tim pulled out was five plates and wrapped utensils, handing them around the table.

Pater couldn’t help but stare at the vast amount of food in front of him, his whole body basically drooling at the sight. Once everything was situated, Steph called out a “Dig in!” before everyone started self-portioning from the boxes.

He just sat there in silence as he saw the rest feasting off of the food. “Parker, grab some,” Damian said, mostly sounding like a command. Although he’s now thinking that’s just how they come across.

He slowly reached towards what looks like cooked beef stirps. Odin knows he needs actual protein in his system rather than whatever process food he usually gets his hands on. His plate started filling up and sooner rather than later, he was basically inhaling the food. He was so absorbed in the taste and quality of it, he never noticed the others giving him concerned glances and talking to each other with their eyes.

Most of lunch went by with silent conversation as the main focus was now on the food. They had about an hour of lunch, which he learned was supposed to be mixed with socialization or “networking” as Duke called it.

The rest of the day went by smoothly. He had History with just Tim, then Engineering with both Duke and Steph before the school day ended.

They all seemed to know to meet up at the entrance of the school, Damian being the last one out for a reason he wouldn’t tell any of them. “Parker, what’re doing after this? We can drop you off wherever you need to go,” Tim offered.

“Oh, uh, I was just going to go home. It’s walking distance from here so don’t worry about it,” he said. As much as he thought the kids of Wayne were actually kind of sweet, he didn’t want to be around them for longer than he has to be. It would just give more of a chance for the universe to put him with his father-look-alike.

“Then you should totally come over!” Steph called out. “Alfred, he made the food you ate at lunch, he always cooks an amazing dinner for us. You need to come over and try it. We can also have a debrief of our teachers. Cass just graduated so she can warn us of some of the teachers she also had.”

He was about to turn them down when Duke cut in. “Ya, we can also talk to you about what to expect from this school to. It’s probably not like a lot of other school you’ve been to. Not saying you haven’t gone to good schools! Just that the system is a lot different from basically every other school in the surrounding area. I think.”

He was about to deny once again, but this time Damian cut him off. “Parker, we’re not going to kidnap you or anything. We already know that won’t do well for you mentally. They’re just trying to become your friend.”

Okay, once again blunt. Damian is tough to read, even if he is able to see the small hints of emotions the younger seems to be able to hide from others so well. But the bluntness seemed to get to him. “Fine, but only until dinner is over. I still want to get home at a good time.”

Lies. He’s just itching to go out and find out more about the kidnappers. All of his senses point to there being more than meets the eye with the case.

Chapter Text

He shouldn’t be nervous. But his fingers continued to tap along the steering wheel as thoughts kept circling in his head. Damian texted Dick about grabbing the SUV because they have an extra passenger with them.

At first, he was happy that any one of them made an immediate new friend. While most of them do have school friends, they never felt safe enough to invite them over to the manor. But then when Damian followed the text up with it being Parker. Well it was a good thing he was already driving or he would’ve been pacing the garage thinking about how to not freak out in front of the boy.

The next turn he took, he saw the school yard, filled with a lot of students either fraternizing or waiting for their ride. He didn’t see his group until actually turning into the parking lot. And he only saw them because they were all walking in his direction with Parker in the middle. They were basically surrounding him. Now he’s second guessing if Parker willfully agreed to come.

It was too late though since they all climbed into the back of the car. It was a pilot seat styled SUV so there was a total of 5 seats for the backseat. By looking in the back view mirror, he could see that Tim, Duke, and Steph were in the very back row, while Damian and Parker were right behind him.

He started pulling out of the lot as everyone was getting settled in, buckling up, and falling into conversations. “So how was everyone’s day?” he called back. Ya, classic parent move but a tradition at this point.

Steph started by eagerly talking about an incident in her class. “This girl, Mayslee – she sits next to me in history – has a huge crush on Tim! She was giving googly eyes the whole time and was writing love letters in her notebook. I almost gagged.”

“Hay, is it that unbelievable that someone could have a crush on me?” Tim called out in offense.

“Yes,” she responded back without hesitation. “Duke on the other hand, is a walking girl magnet. With his innocent boyish charm and devilish style. Something you will never achieve.” Tim just huffed and sank into his seat.

He could see Parker giving a small smile at the interaction. Already used to their antics it seems. “If that was even remotely true,” Duke started, “nobody’s making it obvious. But I did have a teacher try and cozy up to me. Wanted to be invited to the next Wayne Gala and would guarantee me a passing grade.”

“You put your foot down, right?” He couldn’t help but ask back. They’ve all had their fair share of others wanting to ride the Wayne’s coattail, but it never makes it acceptable. 

“Of course. I told him I wouldn’t be in his class if I couldn’t guarantee my own passing grade showing I worked for my place. And that maybe he should work for his if he wants to get to the Gala.” The car was surrounded in silence.

Damian broke it with a simple “I’m proud of you,” and then Steph started cheering while Tim started assaulting the poor boy “out of pride.” It could be considered a harsh statement by most, but one needed for others to know not to fuck with the Waynes. It could honestly happen to Parker at some point this school year.

Speaking of Parker, he looked at the boy before asking about his school day. “Oh, uh, it was simple. I have a class with at least one of them every day so there will never be a dull moment.” That’s good. While a little suspicious, still good. Having one of them always looking after him.

The car ride was quick. Or at least it felt quick. As he pulled into the rounded driveway, Alfred stood near the entrance door. Damian was the first one out, followed by Parker, Duke, Tim, then Steph. Once they were all out and the door was closed, He started to drive away back to the garage. He could see Alfred holding the door open for them and introducing himself to Parker, but the sight quickly vanished from sight.

A couple thoughts swirled his head in the silence of the garage. Anytime he was around Parker, it was a quick interaction that ended with the boy bolting just a couple minutes into talking, if they ever even got to that point. But this time, he was able to see Parker existing without the jumpiness or anxiety he usually showcased. Just being a normal teen. It was nice to see.

Walking back into the manor, he saw Steph, Duke, and Tim dragging Parker throughout the manor, giving him a quick tour as if the boy would remember it all with one pass through.

Dick watched them go, contemplating how he was going to talk to the boy. It needed to happen at some point. And he steeled his nerves to convince himself that it would happen today.

When he saw them start to run past him again, he stopped them to call Parker over. For a fleeting moment, he was able to tell that the boy felt trapped. But the air of such feelings around the boy went as soon as they came.

The others just waved him off and started walking towards one of the reading rooms. Definitely to do something other than reading, but who is he to judge what they do in their freetime. Actually he watches them a lot to make sure they’re not getting into trouble, but that’s not the point. Not right now.

He beckoned for Parker to follow as he started heading to the reading room closer to his own bedroom. The younger boy’s footsteps, while still audible, were quiet. As if he was used to taking cautious steps.

“Sit wherever you would like! Make yourself at home,” he said as he motioned for the boy to take a seat. He tried not to make it obvious that he was watching the boy’s every move, but he was too curious to keep his eyes to himself.

And Parker seemed to notice with his stiff movements. He slowly lowered himself onto one of the single-seat sofas. Dick closed the door and locked it (although he knew it wouldn’t do much to stop the eavesdroppers sure to come) and then headed over to one of the sofas across from Parker.

There was a silence in the air. And as much as he wished it wasn’t, it was the awkward kind. “So Parker. Do you know who I am?” He couldn’t think of a good way to start this off, but he knew after the words came out of his mouth that it could’ve been better than that.

“Richard Grayson, first adopted son of Bruce Wayne.” He answered in a heartbeat. Like it was a report. He looked him up before. Was it out of curiosity of who his dad is? Or was it just common knowledge to him? Did he have a father figure in his life and if so, did he know it wasn’t his biological father? Was he scared to loo-

He cut his train of thought. He didn’t want to spiral into his theories when he could get the answers from the boy in front of him. His son. His biological son. “Parker. Do you know who I am to you?”

This time there was a long stretch of silence between them. An understanding of the answer that went unsaid. That answered only one question for him though. Before he could ask something else, Parker spoke up. “I know this is probably really confusing for you and you have a lot of questions for me, but I have a lot of questions of my own. And we can’t answer them for each other,” he started, trying to put up a calm front but the nail of his right thumb tracing his other thumb’s nail outline gave away his nerves. “But I  can try and answer some for you. But like I said, I can’t answer them all. Partially on the bases that I can’t, and partially because I’m not ready to answer them yet.”

As nervous as the boy was, he seemed prepared for this. Another couple questions stored in his vault. “When did you find out I was your father?” Probably could’ve had better lead up questions but he didn’t know where to start. Again.

Parker seemed to think for a bit. “Easy answer, I always knew, but more complex answer is when I first saw you. At the park.” That didn’t make any sense, but he pushed on.

He decided to be vague with his question, hoping it would bring out a lot of explanations. “What do you know about us. About who we are and our history with each other.”

Parker sighed. It was more like a shaky outward breath. “You’re phrasing your questions as if you know the answers yourself,” he pointed out, letting out a nervous chuckle as if that statement would lift the tension in the air. When he was met with silence, he slumped into himself, moving his fidgeting hands to run along the seams of the couch.

“My history probably came up as non-existant when you looked into me even though all my records are there right?” He waited until Dick confirmed with a nod. “I wasn’t hidden away from you or made out of your DNA. Although technically speaking, that is how babies are made, but that’s not the point. I mean is kind of is, but it isn’t.” 

Everyone who was listening in just got another wave of confirmation that the two were related just from the rambling, “I don’t know if I can yet explain who I am exactly or where I came from. But don’t beat yourself up over thinking you had a child you didn’t know about that you could’ve been there for. Because believe me when I say, there was no chance of you being able to know I existed until I came here.”

He meant it to reassure Dick. To let him know that it wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t in Parker’s life. But it didn’t help. To know that his son believed he couldn’t have known was like a punch to the gut. He should have known.

He sighed and rubbed his hands through his hair, hoping to find some semblance of an understandable answer. “If I can’t know about your past, what can I know about you? I am your father, you know? I should know things about my son.” This time it was his turn to do an awkward chuckle to lighten the mood.

Parker decided to give him some grace as he cracked a smile. “Who are you, Darth Vador?” he asked. His voice came across like it was a joke but Dick came up short as to why that would be funny.

It seemed to show on his face as Parker’s face broke out in disbelief. “No way you guys don’t have Star Wars here,” he called out like it was the most unbelievable crime in all of life. He cleared his throat before asking, “what would you like to know?”

They seemed to have a somewhat comfortable atmosphere around them now and he didn’t want to ruin it with more serious questions, so he decided something light hearted would be good. “Who's your favorite member of the Bat Family?”

There was a small pause before Parker had a quizzical look on his face, quickly glancing at the door but ultimately coming back to his own mind to think. “I don’t really know much about them, but if I had to pick.” There was a beat of silence. Throughout the whole house. “Probably Nightwing.”

There was some shouting behind the door and Dick groaned before getting up to open it. In fell Steph, Duke, Tim, Damian, and even Cass. They all steadied themselves before Duke stepped forward. “What pleasant timing, we were just about to knock. Alfred is taking longer on dinner and suggested we watch a movie.”

This time it was Steph who spoke up. “We were looking up some niche movies and we found one we think everyone would like. It’s about a man with super-powers-”

“-Such an overused trope now” Damian cut in.

“It’s called Spider-Man.”

Before anyone can object or agree, the shocked voice of Parker cut everyone off. “What?” he questioned with a look of horror that no one could place the reason for existence.

---

Peter followed the group of Wayne’s down the hallways to whatever movie room they showed him before. His mind couldn’t stop reeling though. He thought he handled the talk with Richard well, so that wasn’t something to worry about.

What he was worrying about was the movie. What do you mean there’s a movie here called Spider-Man? And it’s about a superhero? Maybe it’s about a man who can turn into a spider? Or the villain was the spider man? Or that was what everyone in that universe was! A man-spider! 

He didn’t have a lot of time to mull over the possibilities as they soon entered the home-theater (who the heck has a home theater the size of an actual theater?!). There was an older man in there, putting buckets of popcorn on little tables next to each seat, cups of water in each cup holder. He stood up at the sound of the approaching footsteps and gave a welcoming nod to the kids. He did smile a little more for Peter. Trying to be welcoming is the only reason he could guess why the older man did that. I mean it was his house so he should be welcoming.

“Everyone pick your seats. I have the movie set up already,” he called out. And so he followed everybody else as they picked their seats. He sat in between Damian and Richard. Once everyone got settled in, the lights dimmed down to nothing and everyone went quiet.

Soon, some string instruments were playing constantly in thirds, and changing to another note every first-measure beat. Yes he was in band class in highschool, he knew how music works. But that wasn’t what grabbed his attention at first. The song that was playing at this movie was a mock-up song Tony wanted to use a long time ago for the Avengers PR, but it was changed to something else. He still played it a lot when focusing on his lab work. It was the only reason he knew about the song in the first place.

He covered his face by dragging his hands over them, hoping to fade out of existence. He doesn’t want to know how this’ll go. When he looked up and actually paid attention to the movie, he realized Peter 3 is on the screen. The same extract Peter 3 that helped him fight in his own world. What. The. Heck.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away. Captivated by the story of Peter 3. Of his past. Of his villains. How he came to be, who his people were, his school life. His Aunt May and Uncle Ben. The same words that Aunt May said to him as she was dying, being said by Uncle Ben while he died.

He felt an ache in his chest as the movie continued to play. Is the only reason Peter 3 existed to be a movie for this alternate world? A movie that never got the accolades it deserves? Did his story fall on deaf ears?

But that’s not true. Peter knows his story. He knows him. As he is, as he was. As Peter Parker 3 who helped him save his world. So what if the people of this world can’t appreciate the hero that Peter 3 is? They don’t deserve him.

As the movie was coming to an end, Peter waited until the end credits to see if he could find an actor attached to Peter 3. But nothing. It just ended. He stood there confused. “Where are the credits?” he whispered to himself, but Damian seemed to hear him.

“This company never puts out credits. Kind of rude considering the work that must’ve gone into it. It’s probably why their movies never gain traction.” He just nodded along as if that made the most sense in the world.

“There’s a second movie!” Duke called out, looking down at his phone. “Should we watch it tonight?” he asked the room.

Nobody had any arguments for why not, although Peter was thinking about how he told them he would go home after dinner. No matter what. But he didn’t want to ruin the mood.

Bruce Wayne ushered them all out of the room about how Alfred is ready for them. He followed along next to Richard, neither speaking but obviously wanting to be close to one another.

---

He doesn’t know what the original seating plan is, or if there even is one, but it seemed like everybody knew to keep an open seat next to Richard for Peter. So he slid in next to his bio-dad and waited for the food to be served.

There was light conversation about the movie from everyone, but Peter wanted to stay out of it. He was too involved in it to talk about it. Tim spoke up, asking a question to the whole table. “Am I the only one who connected the Spider-Man suit to the recent vigilante Webslinger?” Although it didn’t sound like a question he actually wanted an answer to. Like he knew but was just informing them.

“Do you think he got inspired by the movie?” Steph spoke up. “He has the same powers and everything!”

“It makes me wonder if Webslinger had similar experiences to Peter Parker,” Duke spoke up this time.

Peter kept quiet. He didn’t know how to feel about this. It was weird. Peter 3 was a movie, what did that make him? What did that make Spider-Man? Was he just another movie character for another world?

As he was starting to spiral, a tall lanky old man was placing food in front him. The smell alone brought him out of this thoughts. It was a giant cut of steak with some gorgeous looking mashed potatoes, some greens, and another food item he couldn‘t name.

Remembering the lunch they had today should’ve allowed him this expectation, but alas. Here he was, surprised and probably drooling at the display. There were some extra appetizers places along the center of the table for the others to pick at while they ate.

As everyone began to dig into the food, conversation about the movie died down, thank Odin, and rest his soul. There was only a couple minutes of silence before conversations started up again. But he was too focused on the food. Maybe a little too focused. Because as quickly as the conversations started, they died down again with everyone watching him scarf down the food.

What, a malnourished spider-boy needs to eat his fill. He only noticed when the same lanky butler came to take his plate and everyone else’s was still mostly full. Now he felt like all that food might just come back up.

His face started heating up and he just knew he was bright red at this point. Oh how he wished for a whole to open up so he could just disappear. Richard broke the silence with a light chuckle and passed over some of his mashed potatoes onto Peter’s plate before focusing on his own.

But the silence, or at least the presence of the situation, still hung in the air. Conscious of how much he ate now, he just nibbled on the mashed potatoes Richard gave to him. “Parker, eat as much as you want. We always have leftovers,” Tim said. As comforting as he tried to make that sound, it made him feel a bit worse.

They had this much food going around and he was stuck with one cheap fast food meal a day. It must have shown how he felt about that because Tim rushed to explain, “we don’t throw it out! We donate it or save it for whenever one of us is craving Alfred’s cooking! If you ever want anything, just let us know and we’ll give it to you!”

Parker gave a grateful smile, even if it was a little weak. The silence continued on. Peter took this time to try to observe the Waynes. Seeing if, even in this awkward atmosphere, there was something about them that he didn’t already know from the media.

There was some obvious hostility between some of them, friendly or not he couldn’t tell. They held themselves differently than most. It didn’t seem like the kind of poise that a family in the public light would hold. More of a defensive, fighting type of posture, but also not fully that.

If anything, it reminded him of Tony. A public figure who guarded himself from the public eye as well as any possible threats. One that a hero would face. It was a natural thing for the philanthropist. Even if he was alone in his lab, he would hold the same air of don’t-mess-with-me .

And that was currently being displayed on all the Waynes. Every. Single. One. The conclusion to this? Gotham must be a terrifying place if the elites of this world are holding themselves in such a way.

As he was doing his observations, conversation seemed to have come back. Attention was still on him but the conversations weren’t. And that was enough for him. Richard wasn’t joining in any of those conversations. His attention was solely on Peter.

“Parker, where did you move from?” Steph asked. Conversations came to a halt again.

Now having the attention on him, and this time no one was hiding it, he couldn’t help but fidget in his seat. “Uh, Queens, New York,” he answered. It was already confirmed by Richard that whatever background search they had on him came up to him not existing. So these questions would be pointless.

“What made you want to come to Gotham City of all places?” she continued on.

“Well, in all honesty, I didn’t want to come here. It just sort of happened,” he answered once again.

“Do you want to go back? From where you came?” Damian asked this time. But there was an underlying question to that. One that seemed more important than he felt comfortable answering.

“If I did, I don’t know how I would. Gotham isn’t so bad,” he said, hoping to appease but not out-right answer. It didn’t seem to satisfy the youngest.

“But if you had the opportunity to, would you take it?” he pressed on.

He shifted in his seat again, slight annoyance bubbling up. Why does he have to answer these? They may be his fake aunts and uncles according to this world, but he doesn’t know them. He doesn’t exist to them. He shouldn’t exist to them. So he shouldn’t be treated this way by them.

Before he could answer, Richard spoke up. “Damian, enough,” was all he commanded.

But the younger didn’t stop. “Do you know about Webslinger? We got confirmation from the vigilante himself that he knows you. Where do you know him from?”

Okay, crazy turn of questioning there. And he was caught off guard from it that he couldn’t help but splutter his answer. “Well, I know of him, and I know he doesn’t go by Webslinger. But I don’t know him.”

“But you know where he came from? Why is he following you?”

The room was quiet. Watching and waiting with bated breaths as they observed the two. Peter lost it. He didn’t need to be here. They begged him here and now they start pestering him? Who do they think he is? A pity case of Richard’s long-lost son?

“I don’t get what you’re trying to get out of me. I don’t have to be here,” he said rather harshly as he got up. Everybody else at the table followed suit, pushing their chairs back as they stood up and waiting to see what Peter would do.

Damian continued sitting and contemplating Peter’s answer. “Who are you Parker Grayson?” was all he asked.

Peter ran. He ran out of the room as fast as he could, which was to the surprise of the Waynes, incredibly fast. But they stayed hot on his trail. He didn’t remember much of the layout of the mansion, but had a general idea of where they were. And he was right. He was nearing the foyer when a person stepped forward, holding his back.

It was the butler, who he now remembered his name to be Alfred. He held it out, but not in a way of wanting to give it back to him. More of a show that he has it. A power play.

Parker quickly walked up to him and asked for his backpack back, but Alfred didn’t respond. He felt bad because the older man has been so nice up until this point, but he decided his own peace-of-mind would be easier to look out for so he lunged to grab it out of the man’s hand.

He dodged, a little too skillfully. And as short of an interaction that was, it gave enough time for the Waynes to flow into the entryway and block the door. Damian had a determined look on his face, Steph and Duke looked slightly apologetic but still not sorry, and Tim just looked curious. Richard was off more to the side, not blocking the door. He looked apologetic and desperate, and the woman behind him looked content if not slightly curious.

There was another pair of eyes watching but he didn’t have the energy to look for who it was. Instead, he took his focus away from the bag and directly onto Damian. “What happened to no kidnapping?” he asked, his tone joking but his demeanor showing no such humor.

Damian scowled. He didn’t answer. Nobody did. So all Peter could do was scoff. “Parker,” Richard started, taking a step towards him. But Peter backed up. And he was just starting to get used to actually look at his father’s face. But now he couldn’t. He could’t associate the few memories he has of his father to this version of him.

“Just let me go,” he pleaded. He tried not to let his voice crack, but it did. Steph’s and Duke’s resolve crumbled a little, and that was all he needed. He moved quickly to snatch his bag out of Alfred’s hands before sprinting running towards the group blocking the door.

He was able to juke out the youngest, albeit the kid moved with the skills close to Natasha’s, but he got past him nonetheless. Getting past Duke and Steph were easier and he was out the door in just a second.

The chase continued. Well he definitely wasn’t going to school tomorrow.

Chapter Text

There was a forest surrounding the plot. And as much as that would throw off the regular escapee of the Wayne Manor, Peter felt a sense of hope. The Waynes weren’t as they seemed. He could tell by how he saw Damian move, the postures they held at dinner, the stances they took as they blocked the door.

They were trained. And not a normal famous-so-they-take-precaution kind of trained. Trained in the way of professionals. He has yet to gauge their skill level but they seemed to be somewhere on parr with Natasha, and that was a scary thought.

So seeing the forest gave him hope. When he got deep enough into the trees where he was sure no surveillance could catch him and no eyes from the Wayne’s themselves could see him, he pressed his chest and his suit swallowed him up immediately. Karen knew the situation and pulled up a map showing where he would need to go to get back into the city.

He stopped the urge to swing, not wanting to leave his webbing behind as evidence and continued to run, skillfully dodging trees as he went.

As he neared the edge of the forest, he heard a low humming in the air. Something he knew normal ears wouldn’t be able to pick up. He stopped in his tracks and climbed up one of the trees, hiding among the leaves as he waited and listened.

A couple seconds later, a huge aircraft slowly flew overhead, stopping where the forest came to an end. WTF?! An aircraft?! He knew they were rich and probably involved in heroics, but isn’t that a bit excessive? Just for Parker Grayson?!

If he was just a normal kid who wasn’t super smart with powers beyond an average human (add humble to that list, he’s just making observations), they would’ve outed themselves right away as something more than a super rich family. Peter stayed in the tree as the aircraft lowered closer to the ground.

Two figures walked out from a ramp that was slowly lowering. He didn’t recognize one of them. She was dressed in black, her suit almost looking like a full on copy of Bat Man’s. This must be the alleged Bat Girl that most didn’t believe existed.

The other he recognized right away. NightWing. Fuck. And he was in full Spidey get-up. If they caught him now, they would be stupid not to connect Parker and Spider-Man to being the same person.

He was wracking his brain on how to get past these two heroes and aircraft without being detected. At all. Usually he would be up for the challenge, but he still didn’t have a full understanding of the differences in technology between his world and this world, so he didn’t trust himself to think he’ll get away.

As he wracked his brain, he decided to reduce his suit back into his chest piece, leaving only a make-shift ear-comm with the nano-tech so he’ll still be able to hear Karen. With being back in his civie outfit, he had more chance to be seen but less chance of being killed for being a meta. Although it seemed like they already thought he was one.

He knew NightWing’s abilities and believed he knew enough to get away from the vigilante without much detection, but Bat Girl was a mystery to him. To be able to remain an urban legend in connected with the League is a feat in itself.

He debated going invisible but wouldn’t put it past them to have heat signature tracking. As he continued to reach deeper into his brain, he heard the voices of Bat Girl and NightWing start talking.

“Stop beating yourself up about this. We’ll find him,” the girl said. Her voice was quiet, either from the way she was talking or from the distance, he couldn’t tell. Then a louder sigh from NightWing told him she was just a quiet talker.

“But he doesn’t want to go back. That’s kidnapping,” his voice came out strained. He was having an internal battle on morals and wants. Peter votes for morals in this situation.

There was silence between them before NightWing spoke up again. “I know but it just doesn’t feel right.” What? What was said before that? Karen seemed to understand his predicament because she turned on the suit’s advance hearing. First time it’s ever been used actually. But still all he heard was silence. From both vigilantes.

The nano-tech expanded to his eyes, allowing him to use his own heat-view visors to see that both of them were still by the aircraft, standing very still. On edge. NightWing was looking around pointedly, trying to find something hidden. Meanwhile Bat Girl was looking at him.

“There,” she said in the quiet voice she spoke from earlier. Oh fuck. His make-shift goggles went back to an in-ear comm as he started jumping along the bushes. He could hear them hot on his trail.

“Eyes on Parker, North East end of woods, in pursuit,” NightWing relayed to whoever else was on their comms. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He ran parallel to the edge of the woods, not yet making a break for the open as the other vigilantes were matching his positioning at that very outer edge.

“Parker! Just calm down! The Waynes just want to have a talk!” the bird-themed hero yelled out. But none of them slowed their pace. He heard more bodies rushing through the woods to their direction.

They weren’t catching up to him in any way, but that didn’t mean that he was out of the woods yet. Hahaha, get it? Okay, no time for joking around.

“ Another air-craft approaching ,” Karen relayed to him. Are they sending the whole Bat Family after him? Don’t they have other, more pressing stuff to worry about? 

He continued running along the tree branches, trying to find an opportunity to leave the woods. Ya, his cover would be gone but then he’d be that much closer to a city he knows how to hide in.

But before he made his break for the outer edge, Batgirl darted into the woods right at him. Change of plans. He started climbing higher without slowing his pace down, hoping to be covered by the leaves.

The other aircraft zoomed over his head before stopping a couple feet ahead of him. But nobody was coming out

Above!!!

He dodged to his right as a figure dressed in red and black dove through the trees where he was only seconds ago. Red Robin. His senses were still going haywire, yelling out directions of danger. He listened as best he could but it was getting too much to pay attention to. So he took a risk.

He stopped all movement and collected himself before letting his senses take over his body completely. He immediately jumped into action, the short second giving time for the vigilantes to try and grab him. But his body was too quick.

He was jumping through the trees, dodging arms and traps left and right. The aircraft started moving again, this time staying right above him. Tracking him, probably to keep his location if he were to actually get away from the vigilantes.

It felt like waves of masked figures passing by him as he kept climbing up to escape before his body seemed to figure out that this was only a temporary way of evading capture. He jumped from the branch and quickly shot himself down through the trees onto the forest floor.

Something he wouldn’t have done given their abilities with parkour. But yet a decision he had to follow through on. He felt himself coming back into control as he pushed his body harder to run faster. 

Just as he was feeling himself start to lose the heroes, he felt himself run into a hard surface. He stumbled back but didn’t let himself fall. No time for figuring out what he couldn’t sense.

But before he could take another step to start running again, he felt himself get picked up by the back of his shirt, lifted up so he couldn’t touch the floor.

It was a person that stopped him? He was dressed in all black with a weird looking helmet thing attatched to him. With the quick overview of what stopped him, he felt a sense of familiarity but didn’t allow himself time to think on it.

Now out of sheer fear of someone evading his senses, he scrambled for any sense of escape. Launching himself onto the shoulders of the man and twisting his way into an escape. But the man kept a tight grip on him.

While Peter was on his shoulders, the man walked backwards and pressed his back against a thick tree trunk, capturing him between the two masses. He couldn’t help but groan in pain but kept pushing for freedom.

He started grabbing at the guy’s face but a mask was in the way. So he punched. Not as hard as he could but still harder than he should’ve. He punched the man against his temple and along his neck, ending up at his nape hoping the force would make him losen up.

But nothing. He was getting frantic. He started elbowing, continued his punching, adding in some kicks here and there, but then the man just pushed back further, increasing the pressure.

Through his panic, Peter felt his gums start stinging. He couldn’t tell if it was adrenaline or overall pain that was making his body numb but he was having crazy urges and ideas of how to escape for the soul thought of survive coursing through his mind and body

The sound of people coming through the woods felt distant but he felt them closing in. He screamed a screamed a never heard come out of his mouth. Guttural and full of furry. Almost animalistic. As he screamed, he leaned his head back before bringing it full force down against the man’s head. As the mass of people surrounded the two, a crack sounded throughout the forest, causing everyone to come to a stand still.

---

Dick couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread overcome him as he approached the scene. Hearing Parker’s scream and then seeing him go in for a headbut made him want to jump in and separate Bruce from the kid. But the sound that followed left a deep sense of fear shoot through him, stopping him in his path.

He knew the rest of his family was around him, watching as well but his eyes stayed on Parker. The kid’s eyes went loopy as he rose up, a tear on his skin opening up to a river of blood quickly starting to cover his face.

He moved as quickly as he stopped. Bruce must’ve felt the change in the boy’s body as he slowly moved away from the tree but still keeping a firm grip on the kid, not allowing him to fall and injury himself more.

Dick immediately enveloped the kid, holding him close to his body as he lowered himself to the ground. He laid Parker’s head in his lap as he examined the gash. “Parker? Can you hear me?” he called out.

A groan came out of his mouth and his eyes were moving like they were looking around, yet he still had that hazy look over him. “Parker! I need you to answer me!” he yelled out this time, panic settling deeper into his chest.

More grumbling before a heavy sigh. He shook the boy’s shoulders, hoping to wake him up some more. “Dick stop, it’ll only worsen his head if you do that.” Tim said, slight worry in his voice too.

Parker started grumbling some more, like he was actively trying to say something. Dick held him still in anticipation for what the younger had to say. 

The grumbling turned into mumbling. His eyes started to clear up but he still seemed a little out of it. Dick waited in anticipation as Parker took his time to clear up his head. His panic was starting to ebb away.

Maybe his panic was him being dramatic. He probably just hit his head on a pointy spot of Bruce’s helmet! Ya, totally. Anyone would be woozy after something like that!

Parker moved his hand up to his head as if helping to stabilize himself. He moved his hand from his temple to his forehead, and once feeling the thick liquid on his hand, he pulled it back from confusion.

Dick could see the moment he snapped fully back into consciousness at the sight of his own blood. He looked up at Dick, slight shock in his eyes. But he seemed to realize that there was no point in trying to run away again.

He let himself fall back onto Dick’s lap. Dick swore he heard a “fuck me,” get whispered out by the younger but he wasn’t sure. Bruce seemed to think time for recovery was over as he walked over with a meta-power-blocker.

What?! Dick lifted up Parker, holding him close to his body, delusional enough to think it would protect the boy from those cuffs.

“Night Wing,” Bruce started. He felt Parker shift in his arms and let the boy down promptly. Bruce, as quick as he was, made no extra motion as he snapped the brace on Parker’s neck.

The trek back to the mansion didn’t take long. It actually would’ve been peaceful if his mind wasn’t swarmed with worry for Parker. Bruce and Cass took him back on the Batwing.

Parker looked wide awake when Dick walked onto the main platform of the batcave. In fact, he looked a little too aware of things around him compared to the state he should’ve been in from hitting his head as hard as he did. Bruce was busy pulling up some files on the Bat computer while Cass was nowhere to be found.

The rest of the family arrived shortly after he did, with the exception of Alfred who is probably making dinner for all of them, Parker included. Tim made his way over to Bruce, speaking quietly to him, while Damian took the only seat open, set up as an investigator’s chair. Drake and Steph took their stances next to Dick as they waited for Tim and Bruce to finish whatever it was they’re doing.

“Parker Grayson,” Bruce’s voice echoed through the cave. An effect working in his favor of intimidation.

It seemed as though Parker snapped to attention a split second before the words were even uttered. He expected it. And Bruce seemed to notice that as well.

“You have not only caught the attention of us, but the Wayne family as well. Any guesses as to why?” As he spoke, he started making his way in front of the boy while Tim finished pulling up all of the files. Parker was faced away from the screen, not seeing all the damning evidence behind him.

He didn’t speak. He seemed frozen in a state of shock. Bodily shock. Everyone waited with baited breath as the anticipation for his answer hung in the air.

“Oh shit,” Tim muttered. Dick turned to see what he was staring at. Parker’s information was pulled up on the screen, something they’ve read over multiple times.

The confirmation of their DNA matching, the DNA of his mother, still unknown in their system, his meta DNA. All of it was pulled up. But he couldn’t see anything work “oh shit”-ing over.

Tim started messing around with Parker’s DNA sequence, making hypothetical combinations. All of them showing up as impossible, failure, or fatal. What was he trying to get at?

“Get that brace off of him,” Tim instructed as he continued to make more combinations. No one moved. “Now!” he yelled out. Dick, in a rush of confusion, moved forward and unlocked the brace from his neck.

Immediately, Parker fell to the ground and started screaming out in what could only be pain. “Red, what’s happening?” he called out, watching over the boy.

“He has radiation in his DNA,” he answered, eyes not turning from the computer. He seemed to be in some kind of trance as he kept making combinations.

Dick stomped over to the boy and shook him, drawing his attention away from the monitor. The word Fatal kept flashing on the screen as the younger finally pulled away from it.

“Explain. Now.” Parker now lay silent on the ground, but Duke was hovering over him, holding up a thumbs up that he is alive and breathing.

“Parker’s DNA is mixed with meta-genes and some kind of radiation. Specifically made for or with his DNA. The brace was withholding his meta genes from functioning, but it seems the radiation isn’t part of his bodily mutation. So while his meta-genes were withheld, the radiation in his body started attacking itself to get the meta genes working again,” Tim rushed out. He didn’t take a breath during the whole explanation.

Dick’s own mental voice started going a mile a minute, filling in all the gaps that Tim didn’t explain.

Parker was genetically mutated. Both naturally and un-naturally. Someone experimented on him. While that radiation was fit with his genes, it was still put there. Usually if someone has radiation matching their biological coding, they’re either born with it as their meta-gene, or fully made from scratch. But both seem to be untrue. 

The brace would’ve canceled out the radiation if it was his meta-gene. And his whole DNA would be infused with radiation, not co-existing with it.

While he was thinking up a storm, Parker was getting moved back onto the chair. He wasn’t bound by anything, but it seemed that he had no energy in him to fight if he even wanted to.

While Tim continued to mess with the computer to get some more answers, Damian took it upon himself to continue what they originally started. “Parker Grayson. Where are you really from?” Dick mentally face palmed. Starting out strong now aren’t we?

With a slight rasp in his throat, Parker mumbled out a: “Queens.”

Damian sneered at the answer. “Where’s your family? One would think they would come watch over their boy who moved to the most dangerous city in the world. So I guess the better question is, who is your family?”

Parker grimaced as he fixed himself to sit straighter in the chair. He looked at Damian, no malice in his eyes. Yet he answered with a little bite. “You seem to know the answer to that already.”

Damian sneered at the response. “ Obviously, but I want to hear what you think the answer to that would be.” They had a little stare off before Bruce walked over to Damian, his cloaked form creating a dark cast across the youngest.

And while Damian didn’t seem fazed by such a tactic, he respected the message the Bat hero was giving and got up. Bruce sat down, his glowing eyes from the mask pointed directly at Parker.

After a minute of silence, he moved and reached up to his cowl, and before any of the kids could utter a full sentence, the mask was pulled off of his head.

Parker didn’t show any signs of surprise when the man looked at him. Maybe the eyeshadow smudged all around the man’s eyes didn’t allow him to see who Batman’s identity is. “Parker.” He sat down in the chair previously occupied by Damian. “It is vital you comply. We all need answers and the more honestly you answer, the better your chances are at not being locked away.”

Parker let out a slight scoff. “Unless you deem me dangerous.”

“We have our speculation that you could be, yes. But that’s why we need honesty in this situation.” While he was talking, the others found a table to hop on and watch. Tim however was continuing his crazed search for whatever.

“I need a guarantee.”

“Of what.”

“You will not throw me into jail or prison or some holding cell for my… abilities,” Dick wanted to slap his palm to his head. He wouldn’t put it past him that Parker heard the rumors of Bat-Man not liking metas in his city. “And you will help me with a specific task. If you believe me, that is.”

Bruce just grunted in agreement. “Who is Parker Grayson? What has he gone through, who has he known, what adventures has he gone on, what brought him here? Let’s start off with that.”

The boy let out a sigh before sitting up straighter in his chair. Seeming ready to spill his secrets.

---

Peter felt all eyes on him. He ran through the options of what story to give. The truth? Unreliable responses from them. He needed something that would guarantee his safety and maybe even protection. Plus Bruce agreed to help him so he needed something convincing, and he doesn’t know how convincing another alternate reality without their presence will sound.

He saw a few cases of parallel universe events, but that meant alternate selves. Not a completely different world. So he decided to go with that. “I am not this timeline,” he stated.

Good start in his eyes. Lots of leeway. See if they have any speculations he can grasp onto. He heard Red Robin stir behind him which was a clue to something. “So who are you in your timeline,” Bruce asked, prompting more information.

“I wouldn’t say I’m an important person back home. But I definitely had connections that didn’t make me a regular civilian. People around me were either dead or dying and so my reputation with the public is basically in the dirt. So to my timeline, I’m some kind of… menace." The words of J. Jonah Jameson and rang out, the day a clear memory for him.

The room went quiet for a second. Different from the normal quiet when people process words. He saw understanding in the body language of the heroes in front of him and was positive the ones he couldn’t see felt the same. “So how’d you get here,” Bruce asked, filling the silence.

How to explain without giving too much away. They aren’t giving him anything to grasp onto. “I asked a favor from a friend, I kind of ruined the favor and things got bad. I asked him to fix it in a really risky way and then suddenly I showed up here. If he purposefully sent me here or it was an accident, I don’t know.”

There was some typing going on behind him that he wished he could see. But Bruce grabbed his attention with another question. “What were these abilities you mentioned before? And why do you think I’d lock you for having them?”

That kind of shocked him. “Well, uh, I basically just have heightened senses in all aspects. I can see or hear or smell better than most. I also have quicker reflexes and a little extra strength than others as well but that’s about it.” A simple white lie. That's normal for most mutants so it shouldn’t be too out of the ordinary.

“And the second question?” he prompted.

“When I was getting an understanding of where I was, I saw what others said about metas in your city. And I couldn’t just go up and ask you, so the best decision was to trust it and stay cautious.” Truthful. Completely.

Bruce went to open his mouth again, but Robin cut him off. “Do you know who we are?”

Okay random. It didn’t have any correlation to the string of questions Bruce was asking, but the man seemed to be expecting an answer from this question as well. He let out a sigh and hoped his observations and speculations were true. “Yes. You’re Bruce Wayne,” he said, staring right at Bruce. “Robin, you’re Damian. Signal is Duke, Spoiler is Steph, Red Robin is Tim, and uh NightWing is Richard Grayson.”

Everyone was silent while Damian exploded in the most calm way possible. “If you know who we are, then you would’ve known that the rumors of no mutants is a very strict one but not in the way it’s talked about. And as a member of the family, you would’ve been exempt from it unless it was for a serious reason.”

Bingo. Storyline grasped. He could easily speculate that Damian, and inherently the rest of the Waynes, thinks he is from the future. So he answered the only way he could. “Well as I mentioned, I grew up in Queens, and for a more prominent reason. You are all dead.”

What?! There’s not a rule saying he can’t give them an idea of a miserable future. Plus, once they help him get home, he’ll tell them the truth.

Silence followed once again. Okay maybe he didn’t think that through, but it was seriously the only thing he could think of! “I didn’t know anything about you guys other than the fact that you guys existed! I don’t even know how it happened. Hey, maybe me being here changes the timeline and you don't die! Yay! And who knows, maybe he sent me here to save you guys or to actually get to know you guys.” He was starting to ramble, not knowing what to do to fix this weird situation.

Damian however cut him off. “If you knew who we were and what we were to you, why did you avoid us all this time.”

Oh. It’s still interrogation time. “Well how would you react if you suddenly got sent back and saw your dead father living and breathing and having fun with his family.”

More silence. Even Damian seemed to bite his tongue. Bruce stepped back in, taking control of the flow again. “Parker, you have my word that we will help you figure out how to get back to your timeline. But during that time, I want you to enjoy the family you were supposed to have.” This time he was the one left in silence. “But I do have a few more questions before we continue. Does Webslinger have any connection to you or your timeline traveling?”

He wanted to groan out in frustration. “His name is Spider-Man. And yes, he came from my timeline.”

“Do you know who he is? What he’s doing here, what he wants, anything like that?”

He couldn’t help but bite the inside of his mouth before speaking. He didn’t really think this aspect through and if they catch any holes in is reasonings, then he might be fucked. “I don’t know his identity, if that’s what you’re asking. He’s a good guy in my timeline. Kind of an official hero but not really. My guesses, he was trained by NightWing before, well, yeah. And maybe he felt guilty or maybe he was ordered to, but he’s kind of been protecting me ever since. I’m guessing he followed me here to do the same.”

Perfect! Kept it vague. “Would you be able to ask him to talk with us?” Buce asked.

“Well I’ve never really talked to him before so I can’t promise anything.” He just doesn’t want to. He’s talking to them now, that’s enough questioning for him.

Bruce let out a small sigh, before giving him a small smile. “I think we’re good for now. It seems we’re all tired and I know Alfred is done with the food.”

Food? Didn’t he just run out of dinner? Why would he be cooking more?

“We never got to have dessert,” Duke piped up, grabbing Peter’s attention. Him and Steph made their way to Peter and basically dragged him out of the chair and through the cave in a matter of seconds.

And while their laughing definitely lifted the mood, he still felt some sort of hollowness. Richard probably thought he didn’t catch him, but he noticed when the man slipped away. Leaving the room after hearing that he apparently was dead in the future. And to be honest, he was kind of glad.

While he could fake a familial bond with the others, Richard was a different case. Because his case was the only one that was true, and he’s still not ready to open that file up.

Maybe one day. But that’s not today.