Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

At first, there was nothing. Just particles drifting in space. Floating from the hands of a desperate man calling out a name. The particles didn’t respond. This is because particles could not, in fact, talk. Nor can they think or feel. So, they simply drifted.

Away from the man. Away from the ruins of a dead planet. Through the cosmos, past glowing stars and nebulae, navigating the cracks of the Universe and all Universes in between.

Directionless. Spreading apart throughout its journey.

Until they became whole again.

It was dark when the dust woke up. It felt burning. Which was weird. It glanced down and noticed it had a hand. A hand? How did it have a hand?

Lifting up the hand to examine it made it realize that it also had an arm. And a shoulder. And a chest. An unmoving chest.

Oh. That’s where the burning was from.

With stuttering breaths, he took in all the air his patchworked lungs could handle. He inhaled and exhaled greedily, never seeming to have enough, yet feeling completely lightheaded the more he had.

“Whoa!” A voice said. “Maybe you should slow down with that…”

It took him a moment to understand the voice. It startled him. Being spoken to as a person was weird when you were unfeeling dust a moment ago.

He was dust. Why was he dust? Why was he a person? Who was he exactly? How does dust become a person? People turned to dust, that much he knew, but he felt like the other way around should not have been possible.

“Signal, step away.” Another voice barked. “We have no idea what this thing is capable of.”

A snort. “That thing looks like a kid to me.”

This voice was female.

“He’s clearly a shifter,” A snooty voice added. “How else could he have entered the cave the way he had?”

“Hey,” The first voice softened. “It’s okay. Just breathe with me, okay?”

“Signal-”

“Just let him do this, B.” The female voice drawed. “It’s not like we can get any answers when he’s all panicked like this.”

“He could be faking it.”

“Robin is correct.”

“Will you three just shut it for a moment?” The first voice snapped. Pause. “Thank you!”

Someone was crouching in front of him. They lifted his hand and pressed it against their own chest.

“Hey, can you breathe with me?” The first voice repeated.

He found himself nodding.

“Good. Now, slowly, inhale.” He inhaled. “Good, hold that for three seconds, then exhale.”

He exhaled. He followed the pattern of the first voice, inhaling, holding, exhaling. Finally, he was able to manage his breathing. Still dazed, he glanced up at the voice, who was a person. A person in a yellow helmet with two little pointy spikes, one on each end of their head. He could see their mouth, though, and their mouth was smiling.

“You good?” They asked.

He nodded carefully, still a bit dazed. He glanced behind him, towards the three others. Three other people. They were people, and he was a person, and the person in front of him was a person. Three of these people were brightly dressed. The one in purple winked at him. He could sense that she was still tense. He didn’t know why he could sense that.

“Do you mind telling me your name?” The first voice asked.

He returned his attention to them. “What?”

“Your name.” They repeated. “That is, if you got one.”

The last part was said jokingly. He was not sure what the joke was.

“I…” He scoured his mind. Alright. A name. A name is a word given to a person to distinguish them from other people. He was a person, so he must have a name. But he was also dust, and dust did not have a name. So, he must not have a name. “I don’t think I do.”

The smile became strained.

“Okay, that’s alright.” They assured him. “Do you remember how you got here?”

“Here?” He glanced around again. He was in a cave. The cave had things in it, like big pennies, a fancy car, and a giant computer. He did not think that caves usually had these things inside of them. He glanced back at them.

“I was dust.” He explained.

“I know that.” The yellow helmet nodded slightly. “But do you remember how you got in here?”

He frowned. “Dust doesn’t think…”

“Well…he isn’t wrong.” The purple person said.
The big one with a black bat on his chest stepped towards them. “Are you saying that you were made from the dust?”

He blinked. That was what he just said. But he still nodded.

“How?”

Huh. He thought he asked himself that question a moment ago. It was a good question. A question he still had no answer to.

“I don’t know.” He repeated.

Given the tightening of the big one’s jaw, he could tell that the answer did not satisfy him. But he had no other answers to give, especially for a question that he had himself.

How does dust turn into a person…?

“I’m a person now.” He found himself saying.

“Yes.” Agreed the first voice. “You are a person now.”

They shifted and began to stand up. Then they held up a hand. “Need some help, buddy?”

He blinked. Standing. Could he stand? He needed legs for that. He needed to check that he had legs.

So, he checked.

He had legs.

He accepted the first voice’s hand. He was pulled upwards, but swayed the moment that he was on his feet.

Oh! He had feet too!

He did not have long to marvel at that before he fell into the first voice’s arms.

“Ooookaaaayyyy.” The first voice shifted. Then muttered to themselves. “Note to self, newly formed people probably can’t walk very well.”

“Yes.” He agreed.

The first voice glanced at him. Then they turned to the purple person. “Mind helping me to medical?”

They nodded and made their way forward.

“Father,” The snobby one said. “You’re not really letting them do this, are you? We don’t know anything about this creature! What if it was sent to destroy us?”

Destroy them? Why would he destroy them? They were people, just like him. He wasn’t a destroyer, he was the opposite. He was…he was…

A protector? Was that right?

The big man sighed. “We’ll be monitoring its behavior. So far, it is docile, but as soon as that changes ....”

“That won’t change.” He said back. “I don’t hurt. I protect.”

The two people holding him frowned at him.

“...okay then.” The purple person said. “That’s good to know, I guess.”

But behind him, he couldn’t hear the other people moving for a moment. He could barely hear them breath, until…

“Father?” The snobby voice repeated,

The man grunted.

And he was brought to a white room with a bed.
********************************************************************************************

“This may hurt a bit.” Mr. Agent A explained, holding out a needle towards him.

He nodded slowly. He was not sure if he truly knew what he was agreeing to until the needle punctured through his skin.

Oh! That was hurt. He knew what hurt was. He felt it before when he…when he….

Huh. Could dust feel pain?

He asked the question to Mr. Agent A, who did not take his eyes from the filling vial.

“I do not believe so, sir.” He replied. “Then again, we live in a strange world. Anything could happen.”

He considered that. “Like what?”

Mr. Agent A paused from switching tubes to glancing at him with an unreadable expression.

“Such as young men forming from the dust in the Cave.” He replied.

“Oh.” He was not wrong.

He returned his attention back to his task. “I should be thanking you, actually. You saved me a fair bit of cleaning.”

“Oh.” The boy repeated. “You’re welcome.”

The corners of Mr. Agent A’s lips twitched.

Robin peered over the medic’s shoulder with a sneer. “How could a being formed from dirt even bleed?”

He was almost slapped on the back of the head by Spoiler, until he caught her arm. She pulled it back and rolled her eyes.

“First off, don’t be rude,” She replied. “Second….”

She paused, contemplating.

“No, actually, how is he bleeding?”

“The scans are saying that he is completely automatically correct for a human.” Signal said next to Batman, who was studying the scanner from the front of the bed. Due to the needle in his neck, he couldn’t really turn and glance at them much.

“Hold still.” Mr. Agent A instructed.

He did so.

“Huh.” Spoiler replied. She disappeared from his vision. “Double huh. Doesn’t explain the outfits, though.”

He wasn’t sure how to explain the outfits either. It reminded him of their costumes, the first one shiner. All he really had to do was to think that he didn’t want to wear it anymore, and it crawled off of his body and formed a watch around his wrist. Only to find a less shiner version of the suit underneath, this time, with no clear way of taking it off.

Robin glared at him. “Let me guess, you do not know where these costumes have come from either?”

He had to stop himself from shaking his head.

“No.” He frowned. He thought they established that he didn’t know much of anything. Especially considering how weird his mind felt.

It was…disorienting, he believed the term was? He was struggling to string thoughts properly, though it had gotten a little better.
The needle was pulled from him, and he could feel a bandage being pressed against his neck.

“You did an excellent job, young man.” Mr. Agent Alfred complimented.

He smiled. “Thanks.”

He watched as the older gentleman provided his blood to Batman. He nodded, asking if he could place it into the computer.

“Very well, sir.” The agent nodded. He turned back to him. “I shall be returning with a meal, young man. That is, if you are able to eat…”

He frowned thinking about it. His stomach did feel pretty empty. That meant he needed food. He thinks so, anyway.

He nodded. “Thank you.”

Mr. Agent A gave him a small smile before glancing at the others. “This boy could teach you lot a thing or two about manners.”

Signal chuckled. “Uh…sorry A-Agent A.”

Well, of course he had manners! He was raised to be polite and she would be so disappointed in him if he didn’t-

Wait. Who was ‘she’?

He watched Mr. Agent A tut and left without really seeing anything.

There was a…person, he thinks. Someone he knew. Someone who was important to him. Someone that he…that he loved more than anything in the Universe.

But he was dust before. How could he have known someone, let alone loved them and learned manners from them?

There was something there. Something at the tip of his tongue that he just couldn’t reach.

Spoiler interrupted his thoughts by sitting next to him. “Welp, we can’t just be calling him ‘hey you’, so let’s think of some names!”

He blinked. “Names?”

“Well, yeah! You need a name.” She replied.

He almost replied that he did have a name, but frowned when he really took in that thought. Did he have a name? He didn’t feel like he did earlier.

“How about Toby?” Spoiler.

He blinked. “What?”

“Yeah, I’m not feeling that either…” She tapped her chin considering. “How about Andrew? Andrew is a nice name!”

“He doesn’t really look like an Andrew.” Signal glanced up and grinned. “How about Thomas?”

For some reason, Batman froze. Robin looked scandalized. Spoiler cackled.

“I kind of like that.” She glanced at him. “What do you think? You want to be a Tommy-boy?”

“Do not name him Tommy.” Robin scowled.

“Why not? He definitely looks like a Tom….”

“I don’t know.” He blurted out. He shifted. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice name, but it just doesn’t…feel right.”

Spoiler shrugged. “Alright then. Tom’s out then. How about Steve?”

His brain tickled.

“No.” He shook his head, feeling a tug of tightness from his healing puncture wound.

“Jacob?”

He shook again.

Spoiler straightened up. “Okay, speed round! Hunter, James, Alex, Sam, Bob, David…”

She continued to list names, him rejecting every one of them. Just as he was starting to feel guilty for not picking one, she said one that he liked.

“....Aiden, Charles, Bigsby, Dan, Jose, Peter, David-Oh, wait, did I already say that one…?”

“What was that last one?” He perked up.

“What, David?” She raised her eyebrows. “That’s the one? So nice it needed to be said twice-”

“No, the one before that.”

Spoiler paused, forehead furrowed. “Um…I forgot. Sorry, I was just saying the first thing that popped in my head-”

“She said ‘Peter’.” Robin interrupted with an eye roll. “Honestly, Spoiler, you can’t even remember the last thing you said? How could you be a vigilante with a memory so terrible-”

“Oh, I know you love it when I forget things.” She might have been grinning. “You just love correcting me, my precious little know-it-all-”

“So, ‘Peter’?” Signal raised his voice over the others.

Peter immediately turned his attention to Signal. It took him a moment to realize that he was asking if he liked his name and was not calling for his attention.

Huh. He supposed that was a good sign. It definitely felt right…

“Yeah, I like it.” He nodded.

“Peter it is, then!” Spoiler clapped her hands, then gasped. “We should celebrate! Today is basically Peter’s birth day, and he’s so close to taking his first steps-”

“You just want an excuse to eat cake.” Robin said drily.

“Of course I want an excuse to eat cake! But that doesn’t change the fact that we got a new baby now-”

“Baby?” Peter blanched.

“Oh no, she’s already adopted you.” Signal grinned. “Trust me, it’s too late. Welcome to the family.”

Peter sputtered as Spoiler wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “And that’s another reason to celebrate! So many milestones in such little time! Maybe we should have two cakes. Just between me and Peter.”

“Hey, I want some cake!”

A beeping sound came from Batman. He proceeded to pull out a whole tablet out of nowhere and immediately glanced at whatever was being notified.

“What is it, Batman?” Robin asked, trying to look over his father’s shoulder.

Batman angled it away from him. Robin clicked his tongue in annoyance. Peter kept his attention on Batman. Though he wasn’t showing it, he could hear his heart racing faster and faster. Whatever was on the screen probably wasn’t all that good.

Batman caught him looking, and he just…stared at him. It was unsettling, especially since that meant that whatever was causing him stress had to do with Peter.

And that made Peter nervous.

“B?” Signal asked, taking a step forward. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, tucking the tablet away.

“Keep an eye on him.” He ordered, walking towards the exit. “I need to check something.”

Spoiler shook her head, standing and stretching. “That man is such a drama queen. He’ll take any opportunity he can to be extra like that.”

Robin scoffed and glared at the doorway. Then he started to walk off in the direction Batman went.

Peter frowned. “Aren’t you supposed to stay here?”

He got a tongue click in reply before that black cloak disappeared back into the caving system. He glanced at the other two, who just shrugged.

“Don’t worry about it.” Signal assured. “It’s probably nothing.”

“Yeah, like I said.” Spoiler inched towards the door. “B just likes drama. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

But they were both stiff. And they both saw the way Batman had looked at him.

Peter had a feeling that whatever was happening, it was going to affect him gravely.

Chapter Text

“Huh.”

Peter jumped at a new voice.

By the door, Spoiler spun around, her eyes lighting up at whoever was behind Peter. He turned as well, freezing instantly.

Out of all of the costumed vigilantes so far, this one gave him the creepiest feeling. Besides the bottom part of their mask having a grotesque circle in jagged stitches, something about their vibe told Peter that this person could easily kill him.

In his short lifespan, he had never felt so frightened.

“Black Bat!” Spoiler squealed with too much excitement, if you asked Peter, before backflipping over his bed and giving the scary person a hug. Peter blanched at the thought.

They kept their eyes on Peter as they hugged her back (he almost wanted to grab Spoiler and Signal and run), their masked face tilting in his direction.

“Who is this?” They asked.

Peter did not expect such a gentle voice from someone so terrifying.

“Oh, this is Peter.” Spoiler pulled away to gesture to him. “He kind of just poofed into here. Well, not here. In the main area place.”

“‘Poofed’?” They had a frowning tone in their voice.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and squeezed gently. Peter glanced up at Signal.

“All the dust in the cave just…gathered together. Then there he was.”

Peter cocked his head. This was the first time that he heard how he came to be. Yes, he felt himself forming, but seeing that must have been…an experience.

“Interesting.” They nodded slowly.

They pulled away from Spoiler fully, walking carefully around to examine every inch of Peter. He felt goosebumps crawling up his arms.

“You are afraid.” Black Bat noted, cocking their head.

Peter looked up at Signal, who nodded to him.

“Yeah. I am.”

They paused at the edge of his bed. “Why?”

Peter hesitated. Was it rude to tell people that they frightened you? He had a feeling that it would be rude. She wouldn’t be happy with him if he said it, right?

She.

She.

That ‘she’ again….

“Pete?” Spoiler leaned in front of him. “Hello? You still there?”

“Spoiler, maybe give him some space.” Signal said, pulling his own hand away. “Peter, what’s going on?”

Peter stared at the wall. She. Who was she? Why did she feel so important to him? How could he possibly know her?

Why.

Why?

Why?!

“She’s so far away.” Peter mumbled to himself.

Above him, the three vigilantes exchanged looks.

“‘She’?” Spoiler repeated slowly. “Who is she?”

“That’s what I want to know!” He gripped his hair.

She. She. Where was she? How could there be a ‘she’ in his life when he only knew one ‘she’, and that ‘she’ was Spoiler. His life had just begun. There couldn’t have been a previous ‘she’, right?

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Signal tugged gently at Peter’s hand. “Hey, Pete, it’s okay. We’ll figure out who ‘she’ is, alright? Just breathe.”

“Besides,” Spoiler added helpfully. “You’re going to give yourself a bald spot.”

Black Bat touched her arm. “Not helping.”

“Okay.” Peter exhaled. “Okay. I’m fine, I’m good. I just…that was weird.”

“No kidding.” Spoiler sat next to him as Peter lessened his grip enough to allow Signal to pull his hand out of his hair. “Gee, two panic attacks in a few hours. Not that that’s any record, not in this business, anyways.”

Peter closed his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize.” Signal said sternly. “Even if we weren’t in this…situation we’re in, don’t apologize for that.”

And though he didn’t see it, Black Bat was nodding in agreement.

Peter didn’t have the chance to respond. An elevator was coming down in their direction. “Someone’s coming.”

“Huh?” Spoiler glanced at the door. “I don’t hear anyone.”

“Must be enhanced.” Black Bat nodded to him.

“‘Enhanced’?” Peter repeated with a glance towards the scary vigilante.

“That honestly wouldn’t be the most surprising thing about this situation.” Signal rubbed his chin. “Would explain that comment from earlier.”

The elevator ‘dinged’. Someone stepped out.

“I don’t get it.” Peter said.

“Oof, who wants to tell him?” Spoiler said.

Peter stiffened. “Is ‘enhanced’ a bad thing?”

“No.” Black Bat said this firmly, their mask tilted in Signal’s direction. “Your senses just reach farther than ours.”

Footsteps.

“So…I’m the only one who can hear this?” A chasm opened up in Peter’s chest. Something dark. Empty.

“In general, no.” Signal glanced down at him. “At the moment, yes.”

The chasm filled slightly. “Then there are more people like me out there?”

Spoiler shrugged. “I dunno about dust people, but there’s plenty of people with powers in the world. Like Superman.”

“Who’s Superman?” Peter asked.

“Oof.” A new voice said from the doorway. “Looks like we have a lot to teach the new guy, huh?”

Peter squinted at the new person, even without needing to. They had black hair, a blue mask, and a mostly black suit with a startling blue bird on their chest. He noted how the bird wings formed into a single line on each arm, trailing down their sleeve and ended in a single finger on each glove.

Details. Peter liked it.

“Then again.” The person tapped their finger against their chin. “Every kid grows up knowing about Superman. I’m guessing you’re a special case, then.”

“Wing?” Signal leaned against Peter’s bed. “What are you doing here?”

‘Wing’ shrugged, crossing their arms. “B called me, told me that something urgent had popped up. Annnnd by process of elimination, I’m guessing this urgent news has something to do with you.”

They nodded their head to Peter with a smile.

Peter stared at their hand. “That must be perfect for flipping people off.”

Then he blanched, because what the hell just came out of his mouth?

Spoiler cackled. “I know! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Nightwing designed his suit like that on purpose.”

“Hey, now. You’d really think I’d do that when I’m supposed to set an example for you youngins.” The person shook their head, smothering their smile.

“He did it.” Black Bat said.

Spoiler laughed harder. The corners of Signals mouth twitched.

“Yeah, some example you are.” He crossed his arms. “And please, Wing, never say ‘youngins’ ever again.”

Wing huffed exaggeratedly, then turned to Peter. “It’s nice to meet you…”

“Peter.”

“Peter.” Wing repeated, with a nod. “I’m Nightwing. I wish I could stay longer to chat, but I have to go talk to B.”

Peter was surprised at how genuine he sounded.

“That’s okay.” He nodded. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

Nightwing gave him one last smile before disappearing back into the cave.

Pause.

“He was nice.” Peter commented.

Spoiler snorted. “You say that now, but you should see him during family game night.”

“Speaking of which.” Black Bat’s hand disappeared into their cloak and reappeared with a deck of Uno cards.

“Oh!” Spoiler straightened up.

“They will be busy for a while.” Black Bat explained, pulling over one of those wheelie tray tables. “Might as well keep busy. Peter, do you know how to play?”

Peter frowned. “Um…maybe? I can see the instructions, first?”

“Instructions schmutions,” Spoiler waved a hand. “Everyone knows that when it comes to Uno, it's every man for himself. That’s all the instructions we need.”

Signal took the pack. “Here, it should be on the back.”

“Thanks.” Peter replied, skimming it.

Signal took a seat on the edge of the bed. “If you want, you can watch us play a round then join us for the next.”

Peter nodded, handing it back. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Keep an eye on me, Pete.” Spoiler said as Black Bat sat on the opposite side of her. “I’m gonna wipe the floor with these two, just you watch!”

Peter connected eyes with Black Bat. A shudder coursed down his back, but he didn’t break eye contact just yet, not until Signal began shuffling the deck.

….he had a feeling he knew who was going to win that round.

Chapter Text

Peter fell asleep. He couldn’t pinpoint when it happened, and the only clear memory he had was of Black Bat, indeed, beating the ever loving crap out of everyone at Uno. It was a blank after that, and now, Peter was in darkness.

He shifted, realizing that the blanket felt heavier than it probably should be. He removed his arm, and felt thick, fluffiness.

Someone gave him an extra blanket.

Peter felt a tender warmness in his chest. He pressed his hand against his heart as though he could feel the heat through his suit. He found himself enjoying the feeling, wanting more of it.

He closed his eyes, and soft, ghostly fingers brushed against his hair. He hummed, wanting desperately to actually feel it. For the ghost to become a physical being. Someone who pushed at his bangs, who hummed to him, and told him that everything was okay.

He tried to picture that scene. He squeezed his eyes tight, trying to reach out with his own ghostly, metaphorical fingers to grab it. But it was like gripping water, all silky and forming around his fingers as it dripped back into nothingness.

Something should be in the nothingness. There was a void that Peter was desperately missing. Someone was once there, reaching a hand towards him. Just as desperately as he felt.

‘Where are you?’ He questioned the void, extending his arm further. ‘Where have you gone? How do I get you back?’

But the void remained silent, as voids tended be. It made the warmth in Peter’s chest break into a million pieces, and replace it with a deep, drowning sadness.

“You okay, bud?”

He jumped, yelping. The lights flickered on, and Peter yelped again, rubbing at his poor eyes as they burnt from the unexpected brightness.

“Oh, whoops!” A voice exclaimed. “Right, super senses. I’m sorry about that.”

It took Peter a moment to match the voice to a face. Right, Nightwing. That nice man from earlier.

“‘Ts okay.” Peter muttered, pulling down his hands and blinking rapidly. It was only once his eyes adjusted that he realized that he had a dilemma.

He was on the ceiling.

He blinked down at Nightwing, who was looking up at him with a forced expression of calm. Peter would have completely fallen for it, if it weren’t the fact that Nightwing’s heart was racing.

“I’m guessing this isn’t normal either.” Peter guessed weakly.

The man’s expression became unreadable. “I’ve met my fair share of wall crawlers before.”

Peter shifted awkwardly. “But it’s not something that you can do, right?”

Nightwing shrugged. “Who knows. I’m full of surprises. Sometimes, the surprises even surprise me. Now, how about you come down? You being so high up there is making me nervous.”

“Oh.” Nightwing’s heart was still racing, so Peter supposed that was one part of his statement that wasn’t a lie. Peter glances down at himself, especially his feet, which seemed to be the reason he was stuck up there in the first place. “Um…hm…”
He felt Nightwing’s stare, heard his heart skip a beat.

“You don’t know how to get down, do you, bud?” The vigilante asked.

Peter felt his cheeks warm. “I’ve only been alive for-like-half a day.”

“A full day, actually.” Nightwing corrected. Peter glanced back down and noted that he had pulled out a cellphone. And just like Batman with his tablet, Peter had absolutely no idea where the man was hiding that on him.

Then Peter processed what he said, and he winced. “I slept for that long?”

“Well, considering ‘that long’ was around ten hours, I’d say you’d gotten a normal amount of sleep.”

“Oh.” Peter paused. “Wait, were you here the whole ten hours?”

Nightwing’s shoulders stiffened. It was miniscule, something an average person would have missed even if they were looking carefully at the vigilante.

“Black Bat stayed with you the first hour.”

Peter wasn’t sure if he felt warmed by that or slightly freaked out. “But you were still awake when that happened. Why didn’t you…what? Change rotation with someone else?”

This time, Nightwing’s stillness was visible to the naked eye. “I couldn’t sleep anyways. Why are you saying it like that?”

“Saying what like what?”

“That rotation thing. You sound like we’re one of those guards at Buckingham palace or something.”

Peter cocked his head. “Because you are guarding me.”

For some reason, despite that being the truth, that seemed to be the wrong thing to say.

The breath exiting Nightwing’s nose was harsh. He looked up from his phone with his eyebrows drawn. “What?”

Peter sighed. “Look, I wasn’t born yester-no wait, scratch that. I’m not dumb. I know that you’re watching me because you think I’m dangerous. You, Spoiler, Black Bat, Signal.”

The visible parts of Nightwing’s face paled. “No, that’s not-”

“I heard Batman say that exact thing.” Okay, it wasn’t the exact thing Batman had said, but close enough. “And Robin.”

And he saw the way Spoiler and Signal shifted towards the door when Batman left the medbay. There was a sudden distance, friendly faces who, for just a moment, became blocks. Something to keep him from the bed to the door, even though he still wasn’t sure that he could walk. He still lost that option the moment Batman commanded them to keep an eye on him.

Nightwing closed his eyes. The arm holding the phone fell to his side. “He said that about you? To your face?”

“No, not to my face.” Peter glanced at the bed directly below him. He wanted that fuzzy blanket. “He didn’t know about my hearing yet-well, none of us knew about it, yet.”

A door opened, this time, in the cave. Peter glanced in the direction of it, listening to a sigh followed by footsteps. When he snuck a look at him, he saw that Nightwing had taken a glance at the same direction Peter had.

He raised his face back at Peter, who darted his eyes back to the bed with the warm fuzzy blanket.

Nightwing sighed. “Look, Peter-”

“I get it.” He interrupted. “I mean, some random kid just popping into your home somewhere with no memories and strange powers? Super weird.”

The vigilante didn’t respond for a moment. “But…?”

Peter blinked, looking down at the man. “There is no ‘but’. What happened isn’t normal.”

“There’s that word again.” Nightwing muttered under his breath. He definitely did not intend for Peter to hear it. “Okay, maybe your circumstances are a bit…unusual. But-”

“Please don’t make excuses.” Peter interjected again. In the back of his mind, someone was scolding him for being rude. He inched the thought towards the void. He was not in the mood to freak out again. “I just…I’d rather you all be honest with me than spare my feelings. Life, living-it’s all new to me. I don’t want to spend it knowing that the first people who interacted with me lied to me the whole time I knew them.”

Nightwing winced. Peter could make out his hands twitching.

And suddenly, a weird beeping sound echoed through the cave. Peter blinked, glancing over at the entrance, where the weird beeping was getting louder.

“What is that?” He asked, an insane amount of curiosity shooting into his veins.

Nightwing didn’t respond right away, seemingly taking a moment to collect himself.
“That would be Red Robin.” He answered. He turned around and began to move a metal shelving unit from its designation near the door, along with the chair Nightwing had been sitting on.

Peter was surprised when the name rang a bell.

Red Robin? Where had Peter heard it before? Wait…how had Peter heard that before?

When he closed his eyes and tried to consider it, all he associated it to was food. There was something else, a sort of noise as well. He couldn’t identify what it was, only that it was iconic. A lot of people knew about it, but…did an individual person actually have anything to do with it?

Whatever Peter was expecting of Red Robin (insert onomatopoeia), it was not a thin person riding on some kind of…trolly, maybe?

Red Robin was another vigilante. Like Robin and Nightwing, they wore only a domino mask to hide their identity. Their colors were red, yellow, and black, and something about that pallet rang a bell in the back of Peter’s mind.

He shook his head as the trolly maneuvered towards him, stopping next to Peter’s bed. Red Robin cracked their knuckles, peering up at Peter with obvious curiosity.

“Alright, then.” They began, leaning against the railing and crossing their arms. “You must be Peter.”

He nodded. “Yup, he/him. You must be Red Robin.”

The vigilante cocked his head. “Huh. Alfred wasn’t kidding about you being polite, huh?”

Peter shrugged.
“Well, nice to meet you, Peter. Yes, I’m Red Robin, also he/him.”

Peter waved. “Nice to meet you. I’m guessing you’re here to help me down.”

“That would be the main objective.” Red Robin turned to Nightwing. “Get this bed out of the way, will you?”

The older vigilante, who had been watching their interaction carefully, made a face. “Couldn’t have stuck a ‘please’ in there, Red?”

Red Robin rolled his eyes. “Do you want to get yo-Peter down there or not?”

Instantly, Nightwing was by the bed and pushing it out of the way. Peter blinked at the speed, wondering if his original assumption of Nightwing being baseline was accurate.

Well, he did say that he was full of surprises before. Maybe he was being serious about it.

“Alright then.” Red Robin repeated. He leaned towards the controls and moved the trolly directly underneath Peter. He squinted. “Hm….what do you think? Electromagnetic pulses? Some kind of substance layered on the bottom of the feet to make them stick?”

“Oh.” It honestly did not occur to Peter that the sticking might not actually be from him. “I’m not sure, actually.”

Red Robin shrugged. “Well, either way, we’ll get you down.”

“Yup.” Nightwing hopped into the trolly, which caused it to shudder. Peter winced, but Red Robin didn’t react at all. Instead, he returned his attention back to the controls and flipped a switch.
Peter startled when the platform began to rise. His eyes widened as the pair came closer to him. He was able to make out Nightwing’s features more clearly, and he felt that prick of familiarity again.

‘Ignore it.’ He told himself. ‘Push it to the void. Take it out later.’

Something was telling him that he wasn’t the type to ‘take it out later’.

“Here we go, bud.” Both Nightwing and Red Robin were face level to Peter. “Let’s get you down.”

That turned out to be a lot more complicated than they thought.

Peter was stuck. Very stuck. Tugging on his ankles did not do the job, but Peter had a feeling that he would have hand shaped bruises in his future.

Red Robin’s next attempt involved a wand-shaped do-hickey that Peter absolutely wanted to get his hands on and see how it ticked. This probably had to do with the electromagnetic theory, which turned out to be a bust. So was the substance theory, disproven with a flashlight and a quick examination by Nightwing.

“You don’t think you’re doing this on your own, do you?” Red Robin asked slowly, frowning down at a small computer on his wrist.

Peter craned his neck to take a better look at it. “I…actually thought that was happening from the start.”

Red Robin paused, considering. “Huh. That might complicate things, then.”

Nightwing froze. Peter frowned. “Complicate things, how?”

Red Robin glanced up at his feet. “Well, I’m not sure how you’re doing this, exactly, but if this is a part of your skillset, then it might be more about control.”
“Control of the stickiness?” Peter frowned. “How am I supposed to do that?”

“How were you able to do it before?” Red Robin countered.

“Before?”

“When you were on the ground.” He looked up and Peter made the mistake of making eye contact with him. “You weren’t sticking to anything before. What’s the difference between then and now?”

“I…didn’t know I could do this before.”

“So, you weren’t thinking about it. And I assume that you’ve been thinking about it ever since you ended up on the ceiling.”

“Um, yeah. It’s hard not to think about being stuck to a ceiling.”

“There’s your answer, then.” Red Robin lowered himself until he was sitting on the platform. “You just have to not think about it.”

Peter glanced at Nightwing, hoping to exchange glances. All he got was a frown and an increased heart rate.

“Yeah, that’s not happening.” Peter replied.

“Not with that attitude, you’re not.” Red Robin replied with a shrug.

“This isn’t about attitude.” Peter gestured to himself. “I am upside-down. How am I supposed to not think about being upside-down? It’s literally impossible to not think that I’m upside-down.”

“Meditation might help.” Nightwing suggested.

Peter cocked his head. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“It doesn't hurt to try.”

Red Robin had his wrist computer back out. Peter stared at it.

“You’ve been upside-down for too long.” Nightwing added. A gloved hand approached his face. Peter watched its movement as it reached out to brush baby hairs from his forehead. “You could get sick like that.”

“I feel fine.” Peter frowned. “Besides, I haven’t stopped thinking since I’ve existed. Isn’t meditation supposed to make you stop thinking or something like that?”

The vigilantes exchanged looks.

Peter would have been annoyed that Nightwing would exchange looks with Red Robin and not him, but…well…

That wrist computer was really cool, wasn’t it?

“....knockout gas…?”

“No.” Nightwing glared at the younger vigilante.

“Knockout gas would be quicker.”

“Knockout gas is not the solution for all the world’s problems, Red!”

“When else have I ever used knockout gas to solve problems?”

Nightwing opened his mouth and held out a finger, definitely about to count. Then he glanced at Peter, and immediately clamped his mouth shut.

“How about we make it Peter’s decision?” Red Robin immediately turned to him.

“This isn’t a decision! We are not knocking him out!”

“Then come up with another idea!”

“I did come up with another idea!”

“Oh come on, meditation would take hours! Do you seriously want to stay up here and wait all day for him to come down?”

“I will if I have to!”

“That's ridiculous!”

“He has to learn to get down anyways, so why-?”

“Can I look at that?” Peter finally asked, pointing at the wrist computer.

They both paused. They turned to look at him simultaneously, which, honestly? Kind of creepy.

Red Robin hesitated. Nightwing elbowed him.

“Oh, um…sure! Let me just…” He proceeded to jab at the computer. If Peter were to guess, he was either exiting tabs or putting on parental controls. After a moment, Red Robin removed it from his wrist and held it out to Peter. “Just…be careful with it. Wrist computers like this are a bitch to build.”

Nightwing gasped. “Red! Language!”

“Dude. He's like, physically fifteen.”

“And he's chronologically a newborn! Don't teach him stuff like that!”

“I'm sure he'll survive.” Red Robin replied drily. “Besides, he was playing Uno with Spoiler earlier, I'm sure he heard worse already.’

“I did.” He hummed as he carefully took the wrist computer. He treated it with the delicacy it deserved. “She's pretty creative with words, honestly.”

Nightwing huffed out a breath and muttered something, but Peter quickly stopped paying attention.

The small computer was an absolute marvel. Thin and compact, but able to access the internet, along with multiple databases that Peter was certain Red Robin should not have legal access to. It even had the ability to project holographic images. It was a familiar blue, and when Peter reached out to touch it, he was able to spin it and zoom in.

Another bolt of familiarity hit Peter.

He'd seen holographic images like this, only…much more advanced. It was completely possible that the wrist computer was simply too small to compact all that technology. But if it already had all this advanced tech, should it not be able to fit in a quality hologram, like the one in Peter's mind's eye? Or maybe-

Something screamed in the back of his mind, and he fell onto the trolly with a pained, ‘Oof!’ The wrist computer was safely tucked onto his chest, protected from the fall. The same thing could not be said for his neck and head.

It was worth it. Peter jerked his arm up towards Red Robin.

“Don't worry.” He more heard then felt himself say. “I didn't scratch it.”

Nightwing yelped as Red Robin quickly scooped the wrist computer back and cuddled it to his own chest.

“Peter!” The older man swooped down and helped him sit up.

Peter blinked at the vigilante slowly. He could see concern on Nightwing's face and felt fingers check the back of his head to injuries.

Huh. That actually felt nice.

Peter closed his eyes, leaning into the touch.

“Red!” Nightwing hissed. “Stop focusing on that and get us back down!”

“‘ts okay, right?” Peter slurred.

“Peter! The wrist computer is not important right now!”

“Says you! At least Peter has his priorities straight!”

“You literally have four more as backups, now get us down!”

“The others keep stealing them!” Red huffed, but the trolly shuddered, and began to descend.

“Pete, can you open your eyes for me, please?” The hand disappeared from his head. Peter whined. “C'mon, bud, I need to make sure that you aren't concussed.”

“‘M not.” Peter grumbled.

Nightwing sighed. “Do you know what being concussed feels like?”

He did. And he knew he wasn't concussed.

“Thick skull.” He muttered.

“That's not-” He heard a huff. “Peter, buddy, please open your eyes. For me? To make me feel better?”

Groaning, Peter opened his eyes. Nightwing was staring at him with a frown. Fingers pinched his chin, and his face was shifted from one side to another.

“His pupils look fine.” Nightwing muttered under his breath.

The trolly shuddered again as they came to a halt. He was assisted off the trolly, his legs still refusing to work like legs were supposed to.

Peter blinked back the daze. He tried to work his legs, causing Nightwing to pause and glance down.

“Alright bud.” He muttered to him. “Just one foot at a time, alright?”

“Mhm.” He moved one leg forward. Nightwing was holding him up, preventing his foot from fully landing on the cold, cave floor.

Peter wondered why until they slowly made it to the bed, then he glanced up at the ceiling.

Oh. Right.

“Don't move me.” Peter muttered as Nightwing pulled back the covers. “‘M still sticky.”

The vigilante paused, glancing at Peter.

“‘M sorry-”

“Peter.” Nightwing said firmly. “Don't apologize. This is all a part of the process. And we'll figure it out, together. So don't apologize for things that are a part of you, alright?”

Peter stared at him. Nightwing took his hand and squeezed it.

“Alright?” He repeated.

Peter glanced at Red Robin, who was too busy slipping his wrist computer back on to pay attention. He glanced back at Nightwing, who was staring at him with a firm, steely expression.

The dust boy shrugged.

Nightwing sighed. “We'll work on that.”

He squeezed his hand again. “Let's get some food in you. And maybe try to figure out how to get you out of that suit. I'm sure you'd love a shower-”

He tried to let go of Peter's hand.

He could not let go of Peter's hand.

They both froze. They looked at each other, at their intertwined hands, then back at each other.

Nightwing chuckled nervously. “Um…sorry. Let me just…”

He tried to let go again. Peter opened his hand and tried as well.

It didn't work.

Red Robin glanced up. He stared for a moment before sighing.

“I'll get Agent A.”