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Chapter Text

High levels of magic have been detected in Gotham near Blackfield Lane. Origin of magic cannot be identified and cannot be matched with any known sources.

Batman frowned up at the information being given through his earpiece.

Blackfield was all the way on the other side of Gotham. If there was any apparent danger, he wouldn’t be able to get there in time. He still hurried his way through various rooftops, back to where he’d parked the batmobile.

“Whoever’s closest to Blackfield Lane, stop what you’re doing and proceed en route, preferably with backup. I’m on my way now.”

Oracle’s voice picked up from his earpiece, not missing a single beat, “Closest persons are Red Robin and Spoiler. Proceed to the route I’ve provided ASAP.”

“En route.” Red Robin confirmed.

“I’m on my way!” Spoiler said.

Batman landed in the batmobile, hands tightly gripping the wheel. The engines revved as he drove through the busy streets, expertly weaving around cars.

“Oracle, is there anything else you can tell me about Blackfield?”

“Nothing so far, I’ve checked the cams around the place but nothing seems out of the ordinary…”

“Red Robin, Spoiler, ETA?”

“4 minutes for the both of us.” Spoiler explained, “We don’t see anything out of the ordinary just yet.”

The two vigilantes made it to their destination, scoping the area out. Spoiler focused on the roads within a certain radius. Red Robin took his search to the dark alleyways.

“Still nothing.” Spoiler sighed, “Red Robin?”

“Yeah… I’m not seeing-… Hello?”

Red Robin let go of his earpiece. Something had moved in the alleyway he was passing. It sounded too big to be a cat.

A small groan could be heard from near the dumpster.

The vigilante moved in closer, “Hello? Who’s there?”

“You see someone?” Spoiler asked, curiosity pitching her voice up in his ear.

I don’t know what’s happening. What’s happening to me?

Mr. Stark, I don’t want to go. 

Please don’t make me go.

Please, please don’t let me go.

Peter watched as his body crumbled apart and clung to Tony, his ashes floating away from him almost mockingly as he cried to his mentor, begging and pleading for him to fix this somehow.

Tony fixed things. Made them better. 

He could fix this, couldn’t he?

But, oh- he was looking at Peter with a hopeless look that didn’t fit him.

And it scared Peter.

He fell to the ground, his legs turning to brown-grey ash.

And wow.

Wow.

He really was dying. 

He really was about to disappear right before Tony at the young age of 15. 

He hated when people told him he was too young but here he was internally agreeing with them and wishing that someone would have mercy on him.

He was too young.

He should’ve never came like Tony had said.

He didn’t want to die. Not yet. Not here.

People needed him. And he needed people.

He was just getting this Spider-Man thing figured out and now it was being ripped away from him.

He looked at Tony and wished he could stay, wished he could’ve done better, but he’d disappear a disappointment.

His chest was gone now. It was only a matter of time.

I’m sorry.

He couldn’t bear to look at Tony as he felt himself wither away and instead looked to the unfamiliar sky.

Hues of orange and gold edged his vision as it went black.

Maybe this was for the best.

Peter could feel the wind slapping harshly against his suit. He flattened his body, spreading his arms and legs out as best as he could to slow himself down.

His spidey senses desperately alerted him to the obvious danger of the incoming buildings and the figure falling a few feet alongside him.

There was no time to question what was happening or who the other figure was. He webbed them into his chest and quickly activated the parachute feature, courtesy of Tony ‘always be prepared’ Stark.

Unfortunately, the parachute didn’t open correctly and only slowed Peter’s descent enough that he wouldn’t die from it, but the landing would definitely hurt.

Knowing this, he shielded the smaller figure in his chest and twisted so his back was to the oncoming city below him.

He narrowly missed the buildings and landed in a dark alleyway, slamming into old trash bags with a painful thud. The wind was knocked out of him, his vision flashing white from the onslaught of pain.

Memories of the war he’d just been in flashed through his head.

How his hands began to crumble and his remains floating away from him as he begged and pleaded to Mr. Stark, to whatever force was doing this to him, to please, please, please let him stay.

His pleas hadn’t been answered at first.

But here he was, alive. Injured to all hell but alive.

He had to tell Mr. Stark he was sorry.

What was he sorry for?

For dusting away?

For not fighting harder?

It was too much. All of this was far too much.

Peter’s vision faded from flashing white to blotting black as he lost consciousness, keeping his arms tight around the figure on his chest.

*

When the vigilante came to, it was still a dark, cloudy night. He hoped it’d just been an hour or so since he passed out and that he hadn’t been conked out for a full day. He doubted that fear since no one had woken him up and his body still throbbed insistently.

He sat up with a small groan, his ribs screaming at him to lay back down. He looked down, remembering the figure in his arms.

It was a young girl, definitely around the age of ten, with long honey brown hair framing her youthful face. She appeared to be uninjured. Her hair was disheveled along with her clothes which consisted of a light blue shirt and black leggings. Her shoes had probably been lost during the fall.

“You alright?” He asked the girl, trying to see if he could wake her.

The girl showed no sign of rouse and Peter pulled her back to assess more thoroughly for any outward injuries.

He was no doctor, but he’d been taught by some of the Avengers on first aid.

Amazingly, and to Peter’s both surprise and displeasure, nothing seemed to be outwardly wrong with the child in his arms but that didn’t mean she was ok on the inside.

Peter could hear her breathing and had no problem finding a steady heartbeat, though he did note that it sounded a bit strange but couldn’t pinpoint why it sounded a little different.

“Karen, do a health assessment scan on her.”

Nothing.

“Karen?” He called but he received no answer besides the girl fluttering her closed eyes ever so slightly.

Peter groaned again, flopping back into the trash cans, his vision blurring.

This was horrible. He didn’t bring his phone with him. He’d left it with Ned before he’d left to assist Tony during the invasion. He usually didn’t bring it since the suit came with the usual cellular functions of the modern day phone.

But he couldn’t do anything now. His suit wasn’t connected to anything, which was unusual, but he figured the fall damaged some pivotal parts of his suit.

Without an AI to navigate the more advanced functionings of the suit, he couldn’t do anything. The suit only served as protection for him now. 

He couldn’t figure out where he was, what his injuries were, what the girl’s injuries were or call for help of any kind.

“Ok, cool beans.” Peter laughed raspily, hysterical. “I don’t know where I am, I’m injured, I’m hungry and I don’t know who this child is.” He listed off to the air because he needed someone to vent to.

He could feel his body slump against his wishes and let his head lull to the side as a wave of dizziness took over. This wasn’t good. He must’ve hit his head pretty hard on the way down.

He settled the girl to lay beside him amongst the garbage bags and sighed, “It’s just you and me, friend.”

Despite the various pains throughout his body, his spidey sense still decided to sound.

To the left! 

Careful.

“Hello?” Peter could hear someone, an older teen, cautiously stepping towards him. He couldn’t see them since he was placed beside an old dumpster, which covered them from seeing each other.

Peter tried to remain still, hoping that the civilian would walk away.

But of course Peter couldn’t get what he wanted because the agitating, grating voice continued, “Is there someone there? Do you need help?” 

The young vigilante shifted, a piece of garbage prodding his side before he decided to answer, “Ugh… It's just Spider-Man, I just had… a rough fight?” He honestly couldn’t remember what had happened to him, but every part of his body hurt, “M’fine… sweet Christ, my back,” He couldn’t help but groan. He wished that his healing factor worked faster.

“Spider-Man?” He heard the teen ask, as if he’d never heard that name before in his life.

The young man entered Peter’s vision and he was greeted with one of the most ridiculous looking costumes he’d ever seen in his life. 

The costume was mostly red, accented by yellow and black accessories. The cape draped behind the man was yellow on the inside and black on the outside. But that wasn’t even the most ridiculous part, no, the most ridiculous part was the mask .

The mask didn’t fully cover his face. It wrapped around his head, covering his hair, eyes and nose, leaving his mouth and chin free and accenting his face in a way that Peter found hilarious.

This, Peter decided, had to be the funniest thing that he’d ever seen.

A pained laugh ripped from his mouth and he hugged his chest, trying to will himself to stop laughing. His ribs were killing him but everytime he tried to stop thinking about how silly the guy looked, he was hit with another fit.

“Get-get-away from me!” He exclaimed, overtaken with giggles, “Please-I can’t-I can’t look at-! You look-oh my god!” Peter threw his head back into the trash bags, closing his eyes when a wave of dizziness washed over him.

The costume-wearing stranger looked down at his outfit and sucked his lips inwards when he could hear his partner, Spoiler, laughing from the rooftops above. He’d never felt more self-conscious than he did at this very moment.

When Peter finally stopped laughing, he could feel his ribs thanking him as the pain dulled down considerably. He still couldn’t look at the guy, so he kept his eyes closed where he laid, “You cosplaying or something? Who’re you supposed to be?”

There was a pregnant pause.

“I’m not cosplaying. This is my suit. I’m Red Robin…” He trailed off when Peter started to laugh again, but thankfully the spider vigilante was able to stifle his laughter, “You said your name is Spider-Man?”

“...y-yeah.”

Red Robin studied the unknown vigilante with a hum. His suit was ripped, burned and tattered in various places, revealing his skin and the numerous injuries littered upon it. 

“What happened to you? You’re pretty injured.”

“I honestly don’t remember anymore… pretty sure I fell…?” Peter couldn’t recall why he fell. How had he ended up in such bad shape?

“And who do you work for, Spider-Man?” 

God, this was too many questions for Peter’s throbbing, concussed head to process right now. That, coupled with his intensifying Spidey sense, only had him sitting up and looking around the alleyway.

Approaching! Run!

He knew that someone was on the rooftop watching them, but there was something else ticking off his spidey sense. Something much more dangerous. Something that would cause him more harm than the two strangers near him now.

When Red Robin realized he wasn’t going to get an answer to that question, he switched subjects, “Who’s your friend here?”

Peter cleared his throat uneasily and licked his lips underneath the mask. He could taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth, “I-uh-I don’t think you need to know…” Wow, Peter, just wow, that couldn’t sound any worse. “I mean-...I don’t know.” He stopped talking, grabbing the girl and standing up.

“Hold on,” Red Robin stepped forward faster than Peter had been expecting, his vision swimming from when he’d stood up, “If you’re in trouble, we can help you.” Red Robin was holding his shoulder with a firm hand, “You just need to be a little more honest with us.”

What a bold face lie.

Peter knew that they didn’t want to help him out of the kindness of their hearts. They were suspicious of him, but he couldn't imagine why.

He was Spider-Man. He was popular. He wasn’t only known in New York.

So why the hell did these guys, who definitely had Northern accents, not recognize him?

Even if they were bad guys they should’ve recognized him.

His Spidey sense buzzing loudly against his head, Peter flexed his wrist and webbed the reddened Robin right on his domino mask, covering half his face in sticky webbing. He raised his hand towards the other masked vigilante watching from the roof and shot a glob of webbing towards her as well, successfully pinning her feet which resulted in an annoyed groan from her.

The vigilante yelped in genuine surprise, reaching immediately to try and rip the webbing off his face, “What the hell?!” 

Peter swung away as quickly as he could, careful to not jostle the girl cradled in his arm and trying to ignore the way the world spun as he ran.

The webbing would dissolve in about 3 hours. There was no need to feel guilty.

Red Robin continued to try to release his mask free from the unknown compound before giving up, Spoiler laughing all the while.

“Oracle, I put a tracker on him, is it still on him?” 

“Yeah, for now… did that come out of his body?” Oracle voice came in, stifling both amusement and disgust in her voice.

“Don’t ask that while it's on my face!” Red Robin whined. 

“Spoiler, get Red Robin back to the cave. I’ll tail Spider-Man.” Batman’s gruff voice announced, the Batmobile appearing in the same alleyway that Red Robin was in.

“Uh…” Spoiler hummed sheepishly, waving down the bat vigilante from her spot, “I’m stuck too. Sorry.”

“Robin, proceed towards Red Robin and Spoiler. Take them home and try to get a sample of whatever Red Robin has on his mask.” He ignored Red Robin's pleas to send anyone else.

“ETA 6 minutes.” Robin responded curtly.

Batman exited the vehicle, grappling hook in hand and followed Oracle’s directions from the tracker's last pinged location. It seemed that their newest vigilante already took the tracker off.

Spider-Man was fast, despite Oracle telling Batman that Red Robin had reported that he was seriously injured and carrying a young child with him. Batman could tell that the present conditions were slowing him down, but his speed was alarming nonetheless.

Tonight, Batman decided he would just tail the guy. There was no telling what else he was capable of.

*

Peter spent the rest of the night hiding out.

He still didn’t know where he was exactly but it couldn’t be far from New York. But he was dangerously low on web fluid and didn’t have enough money for a bus ticket.

And, when he’d tried to find a hospital to leave the girl at, they all rang alarm bells in his head, forcing him to turn right back around.

It was like there were no safe areas in this city.

And it didn’t help that the guy that made him run away was tailing him. Thankfully, he wasn’t attacking Peter, but he was making a point to not leave him alone.

His Spidey sense was relentless, much like the raging throbbing in his head that wouldn’t go away. He was currently sitting underneath a water tower, hiding behind more garbage and trying his best to not fall asleep.

Thankfully, when the sun began to rise, the all-black wearing vigilante backed off considerably before leaving all together.

Peter’s body decided that was the perfect time to pass out right under the water tower.

The trash bags weren’t the best pillows, but they’d have to do.

*

After stealing an outfit and two pairs of shoes from an old thrift store, Peter was able to hide his suit underneath, his mask was in the pocket of the red hoodie. He’d put a pair of shoes on the unknown child, carrying her on his back.

He had taken to calling her Liz, short for Elizabeth because ‘unknown child’ just didn’t roll off the tongue. It was also a mouthful if you asked him and he couldn’t walk around saying ‘Hi, I’m Peter and this is unknown child.”

Peter had nothing better to do than to spend the morning roaming the streets, thinking about what his next move should be.

So far, he’d gotten some of the nastiest stares he’d ever been on the receiving end of. He didn’t take it personally. It seemed that everyone mean-mugged around here, it didn't matter who you were. He wouldn’t be surprised if a baby gave him the dirty eyeball.

He had thought he would be able to ask to use someone’s phone but every person he ran into made his Spidey sense go off in varying degrees and he didn’t want to risk his chances.

There was something different about this city and it seemed to be infecting the people in it.

At some point, Peter finds himself with an old, crinkled map of the city he was currently in; Gotham.

Which, eerily enough, didn’t ring any bells for the teen.

He settles for the library, folding the map into his pocket.

Some research would help him figure out where exactly he was and then he could go from there. Hopefully, there would be a kind soul in the library that would allow him to use their phone to call Happy.

When Peter arrived at the library, he was surprised to see that it was relatively new compared to the other buildings he’d seen in this city. Which was good, Peter guessed, since they’d most likely have up to date technology.

He readjusted the girl laying limply on his back and strolled up the stairs and through the double doors.

The teen was immediately greeted by a red-haired woman, who turned away from her computer to smile at Peter. It was then that Peter remembered how injured he was because the lady immediately hit him with an insanely worried gaze.

He must’ve looked horrible because Barbara, she had a name tag on her shirt that’s how Peter knew her name, didn’t even greet him with a hello.

Instead, she leaned forward on the desk, scanning his injuries before giving him a small, sad smile.

“Rough night?” She asked softly, trying to lighten the mood.

Peter cleared his throat gently, “Y-Yeah… you could say that…”

“You’ve still got some open cuts on your face. Here-“ She pulled a first aid kit from somewhere in her desk and gave it to Peter, “Try to patch yourself up in the bathroom, ok? Can’t have you bleeding all over the books.” 

Peter wondered if this was a normal occurrence for her. She was so genuinely kind and hadn’t looked at Peter like he was shit underneath her shoe.

“Uh-ok… I’m just gonna put my little sister over here.” He gestured over at one of the couches near the shelves of books located towards the middle of the library.

“I’ll keep an eye on her for you…?” Barbara trailed off, waiting for Peter to introduce himself.

“Uh-Ben. Just call me Ben. This is my little sister, Elizabeth.”

“Alright, Ben. I promise I’ll look after your sister. Go take care of those wounds.”

When Peter limped off to the bathroom, Barbara took a look at the girl and pulled out her phone, sending a quick text to a certain group chat.

Serious BatChat

Babs: A teen boy just showed up at the library looking like he survived a murder attempt. 

Babs: @Tim do you rmb the little girl’s face that was with the unknown vigilante last night?”

Tim: yes

Babs: check your messages, I sent a pic.

Tim: that’s her

Babs: she’s with the boy. He says that they’re siblings

Bruce: You think it's the vigilante out of costume?

Babs: Definitely and he’s very injured just like Tim described

Dick: does he look that bad?

Babs: yeah, I gave him a kit but he def needs professional medical attention. He was bleeding from his head and seemed out of it.

Dick: what about the girl?

Babs: outwardly no injures, she’s sleeping rn

Damian: @Tim is it true he squirted in your eyes?

Duke: LOLL

Tim: …

Tim: Never use the word squirt when the subject pertains to me

Tim: And NO he didn’t

Tim: we never got to test the mystery goop so i'm going to pretend it was synthetic

Steph: he def did it was so funny

Steph: he also made fun of his suit

Damian: i told you it looked ridiculous

Tim: I look cool right Bruce??

Bruce: as long as you’re happy

Tim: omg @Babs delete the patrol footage from last night immediately thnks

*

Peter closed the bathroom door behind him. He groaned when the lights clicked on in his presence, squeezing his eyes closed.

The lights were too white. Too blinding.

This concussion was going to be the death of him.

The mirror above the sink showed him a young teen with messy brown hair with crusted blood, a black eye and cuts that sat on top of his bruises.

He looked awful.

The bruising didn’t stop at his face, however. Ugly purple bruising showed on his neck as well. Thanos had grabbed him harder than he thought. It was no wonder his voice was so raspy.

Peter didn’t want to use up all of the supplies in the first aid kit, so he’d focus on the cuts that decorated his face and any deeper cuts on his body. The smaller cuts would have to wait.

As he began to clean and disinfect the cuts, a wave of nausea hit him and he staggered towards the toilet, splattering bile across it.

His head was still killing him.

This wasn’t good.

He needed rest.

But there was nowhere safe for him to go.

Nowhere felt safe.

He felt like he was in a constant war zone.

He wanted to go home.

His eyes warmed with tears and he swiped them away, trying to swallow back the sob sitting at the back of his throat.

He wished that his Aunt May were here. 

Or Tony. 

Or Ned. 

Or MJ. 

Any familiar face would do.

If Aunt May were here, she would’ve called off from work, made Peter one of his favorite dishes and lulled him to sleep with a soft song just like she had when he had fallen ill as a child.

If Tony were here, he’d have the answer in no time. They’d be back at Stark Tower fixing up their suits together and listening to ACDC.

If Ned were here, they’d put their heads together and come up with some elaborate, impossible plan that would eventually work. Then they’d freak out together and animatedly retell the story to each other for the next three months, laughing the entire time. 

MJ would tell him to stop being a crybaby and do something. She never was one for pointless crying.

He stood up with a huff and wiped off his mouth with his sleeve, walking back to the sink where he’d left the kit.

He finished disinfecting the cuts on his face, applied an ointment and bandaged as necessary.

The librarian seemed nice.

Maybe she’d answer any questions that Peter had.

Peter cleaned up his mess and exited the bathroom, slightly more confident and feeling a bit better to have his face and cuts cleaned.

Barbara greeted him again with a smile, “That’s a little better,” she said and took the first aid kit back, “Now, what else can I help you with?”

Peter pursed his lips, nodding, “Right… um… could I use your phone please? I lost mine and need to call someone.”

“Sure.” Peter watched as she pulled out a blocky smartphone. He hadn’t seen a smartphone that thick in years. “Here.”

Peter took the phone, dialed in Happy’s number and held it to his ear.

The number you’ve dialed is no longer in service. Please check the number and try again.

He checked the number, concluded it was correct and tried again.

That had to have been a fluke, a coincidence, a small glitch in the system. There was no way Happy’s number was no longer in service.

The number you have dialled is no longer in service. Please check the number and try again.

Peter let out a worried hum. Maybe Happy was busy with something. He went to the next number; Pepper.

He put the phone back to his ear and waited for her to pick up. She always picked up on the second ring without fail. She was punctual like that. She had to be. Years of being Stark Industries CEO did that to a person. Peter’s heart sank when the third ring passed and he sucked his lips inwards.

The number you have dialled is no longer in service. Please check the number and tr-

Something was wrong. Something was really, really wrong.

He tried the last number he could remember by heart; Ned, his unofficial official guy in the chair.

Ned would definitely answer. He always did when he knew Peter was out being Spider-Man. And the last time they talked, Peter had suited up to go help Tony during the start of the invasion.

Nausea hit him like a truck when he was met with the same automated message

He handed the phone back to Barbara with an awkward shrug, hoping she didn’t notice how his body shook, “Thank you.”

Barbara took the phone back slowly, her brows furrowed, “Ben… are you okay?”

He shrugged again. “… Can I use a computer, please?”

“Of course. Go right past these shelves and they’ll be against the wall.” She watched the brown-haired teen limp off to the computers. She grabbed her phone once again, scrolled through her contacts list and clicked a certain name before holding the phone up to her ear.

The computers were a bit old, Peter had noticed. A bit surprising since the library looked so new, but the funding this place received must’ve only been enough to update the building itself.

He used the given login and password near the keyboard and went straight to Google, typing in bus tickets straight to Stark Enterprises. This is how he then learned that he’d somehow landed in New Jersey.

Peter only had about $80 on his person. Thankfully, a bus ticket shouldn’t cost much, New York and New Jersey were right by each other. The ride would only be about 2 hours and some change.

No found matches. Please select a different location.

Ok, strange, but maybe the buses didn’t stop near Stark Enterprises. Peter would’ve left it at that, but he noticed that the company didn’t even show up on the map. There was a different building there instead, one he didn’t recognize.

Albaz Electric; that didn’t sound familiar in the slightest.

Why was there an electrical company where Tony’s building should’ve been?

He went to the search bar and typed in Stark Enterprises.

No found matches.

He typed in Tony Stark.

No found matches.

Any other names he searched up lead him to a dead end or to whatever the search engine thought he was trying to look up.

Shit.

Peter wanted to throw up and it wasn’t because of the concussion. The pieces were coming together and he wasn’t liking this fucked up puzzle.

Memories flooded back into his mind and he flinched back like he’d been hit.

He looked down at his hands, shaking as remembered them crumbling away into grey ash.

He had died.

He had fallen apart.

Tony wasn’t able to save him.

And he was in another dimension.

And to add salt to the wound, he was somewhere where nothing was familiar to him. In a city that was far more dangerous than Queens, New York. A city that he wouldn't be able to fix by being Spider-Man.

There was no one here to help him.

He was alone.

He didn’t even know if he could get back home.

He didn’t even know where to start.

His heart drummed in his ears and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Something was squeezing his lungs and wouldn’t let him breathe.

He gripped his chest.

He couldn’t breathe.

His head throbbed.

He didn’t get to say goodbye. 

Oh god he couldn’t fucking breathe.

His head was killing him.

He died a disappointment. 

Why had he been sent here?

He didn’t even know what here was yet. All he did know was that here, Gotham, New Jersey, had to be one of the worst places he’d ever been in. 

There was a constant, thick, suffocating smog that loomed over the city. It reeked of anxiety and betrayal and sadness. And everything just felt infected, both with sickness and just overall negativity.

If he hadn’t already realized he was in another dimension, he would’ve thought he’d been sent to his own personal hell.

Peter logged off the computer, trying and failing to catch his breath.

He couldn’t stay here.

He needed to get out of this damned library.

Peter made a beeline for the door, rounding a shelf and running right into someone’s chest. He heard them let out a groan of surprise and Peter couldn’t stop himself from looking at them and apologizing.

“Sorry-” His breath hitched and he blinked past his tears to make sure he was seeing correctly.

“No, you’re good…” The stranger with his dad’s face said kindly. His blue eyes were glossed with worry. He studied Peter’s features, “You alright, kid?”

No. No, Peter wasn’t ok, Mr. Not Peter’s Dad.

Peter backed away when the man stepped forward, shaking his head. 

This was cruel.

Why was this man wearing his dad’s face?

Why was he being tormented like this? 

“Hey, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Not Peter’s dad held his hands up in surrender, “I just wanted to see if you wanted some medical-”

Peter pushed past the stranger wearing his dead father’s face, grabbed Liz and rushed out the library, ignoring Barbara’s concerned calls for him.

*

“What did you do?” Barbara hissed.

She’d taken Dick into her small library office after she’d seen the young teen run out of the library looking like he’d seen a ghost.

Dick shrugged, truly baffled, “I just bumped into him.” He explained simply. “But when I asked if he was ok he just freaked out and ran.”

Barbara sighed deeply, slumping her shoulders, “He has a serious head injury and his sister is unconscious, I don’t want them walking around Gotham in such a vulnerable positions.” It was miracle that Ben hadn’t found him and his sister in a more horrible situation. They were sitting ducks and Gotham loved those.

The older man nodded, placing a firm hand on Barbara’s shoulder “I’ll ask Jason to watch out for him, the kid should still be in the area.”

A small nod and Barbara crossed her arms over her chest with a huff, “I was only able to get their names. Ben and Elizabeth.”

“That should be plenty, then…” Dick sniffed, leaning against her desk with a squint, “Unless?”

“I already tried to look them up.” She admitted.

“They were fake."

“Yup. There are no records for a Ben or an Elizabeth that match them.” Thousands of records from Gotham were scanned but not one came even close to matching the two. It was strange. “But, I did see that he was looking up bus tickets to New York, so I’ll broaden my search there tonight.”

She had to find something, anything, that could give her a lead on her two newest assignments.

*

Peter’s vision blurred, his balance slipping as he haphazardly leaned against a red brick wall in an alley. His entire body ached with an unforgiving pain. He couldn’t stop thinking about those piercing blue eyes staring down at him with worry.

Those eyes that looked like ones he’d only seen in the photo books that May had showed him. The eyes that he barely remembered from when he was just a young child. The ones that looked at him fondly, crinkled with happiness.

A wave of nausea hit him again and he vomited. Acidic bile painted the cracked asphalt beneath his thrifted shoes. His stomach felt like it was contorting itself as it cramped from the onslaught of sickness.

Stop. Stop thinking about that.

He wished he could stop and rest.

He needed to stop and rest.

But this city-Gotham-wouldn’t allow him to rest.

Gotham wasn't the type of city where you could take things slow.

“Pull it together, Parker.” He gritted, balancing himself with a groan, “You’ve been through worse, keep moving.” 

He looked to Liz, head resting on his shoulder, who was still unconscious. Thankfully, her condition didn’t appear to be any worse, but she wasn’t showing any signs of waking either.

His injuries would only worsen if he continued on like this.

“You alright, kid?”

Peter jumped at the voice. He looked over his shoulder to meet with the steady, green eyes of a rough-looking young man with a tuft of white hair that popped against his black locks. He was wearing a red t-shirt that clung to his body and showed off his muscles. There were old scars littered across his arms and Peter knew he had to have more.

“Uh-I’m… That depends… are you asking to be nice or…” Peter didn’t finish the sentence.

The man scoffed, but nodded understandably, “I’m asking to be nice, kid. I noticed you leaving the library.” He stepped a bit closer, remaining a respectable distance from Peter and squinting when he observed his outward injuries, “You look like you’ve been through hell.”

“This place is hell. I don’t know how anyone is surviving.” Peter admitted grimly.

Jason huffed at that, “You can say that again…” His green eyes kept trailing to Peter’s head and then Liz. He sighed and took another step forward, “There’s a free clinic nearby. I can take you and your sister there.”

“Look Mr-”

“Jason.”

“Look, Mr. Jason-”

“Kid, if you pass out, who’s going to look after her?” Jason nodded to Liz, “You’ll both end up dead or worse if that happens.”

“... No strings attached? No one will be called?” 

Jason nodded, “CPS won’t be called.”

Peter couldn’t argue with that logic, he was too tired to argue. This city had taken so much from him and he’d only been here for two days. “Lead the way.” If he smelled anything fishy, he’d run.

His body continued to protest as he trailed behind Jason.

Jason walked with a natural, tough stride. He glanced every now and again to make sure Peter was still following him before they reached a dingy looking pharmacy.

There was an open sign that sat crookedly in the barred window of the door and Jason held it open for Peter, gesturing for him to go inside.

Peter was hit with the smell of stale antiseptic, bleach and cigarettes and hesitated for a moment before continuing. 

The pharmacy looked well stocked and functional despite how small it was. Though Peter was sure that the medications were acquired questionably, that wasn’t a problem for him to figure out. As long as this clinic was legit, he’d keep his lips sealed.

Towards the back of the pharmacy was a set of stairs that led to the basement where the actual clinic operated. It was much bigger than Peter had expected it to be.

It was stocked with even more medication and the smell of antiseptic was even stronger than it’d been upstairs. There were seven beds, only one was occupied with a privacy curtain around it.

An older man with greying hair and tired brown eyes turned away from counting some medication in a box to look at Jason, his eyes landing on Peter, “Found another stray?”

Jason didn’t humor him, “He needs to be checked. Possible broken ribs, a concussion and a few cuts that may need some stitches.” Peter winced at the listed injuries, remembering his reflection in the library bathroom.

The older man gestured to a bed, “Take a seat, son. You can lay your sister on the bed and sit on the edge. We’ll check her after we check you.”

It was at this moment that Peter realized that he’d fucked up. He was still wearing his suit under the hoodie and pants. There was no way he was going to be able to hide it.

The doctor must’ve seen him having his daily inner turmoil and held a hand up towards Peter, “Look, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. If you don’t want a full examination, we won’t do it. The same goes for your sister. Deal?”

What a relief, Peter really didn’t feel like running anymore. “Deal… thank you.”

Peter limped to one of the unoccupied beds, laying Liz down and sitting at the edge. 

The doctor sat in a wheeled chair and rolled to Peter, eye-level with him now, “Alright, my name is Dr. Moore. What is your name?”

“Uh-Ben Peters…” Peter realized how stupid the fake name sounded as soon as it left his mouth, but it was too late now. He’d dug his hole, he had to lie in it.

“Alright, Ben. What are you comfortable with me checking?” 

“Uh… I don’t know… most of my injuries that-um-need to be seen are-they’re under my clothes…”

Dr. Moore nodded, ever so understanding beyond his years, “Do you want to undress in the bathroom? We have extra clothes that may fit better here and a bag you can put your old clothes in. Does that sound good?”

Peter almost felt this was too good to be true. How could this many good-hearted people find him in one day? Was he being pranked? He hoped not.

“Yeah, that sounds great, actually.”

“Good.” Dr. Moore rose from his seat, “I’ll be right back and once you're dressed more comfortably, we’ll check you over.”

Once Peter was able to take off his suit, which was soaked in blood and sweat, he felt much lighter. The clothes he was given by Dr. Moore were a tiny bit too big, but they didn’t drown him like the thrifted clothes he’d stolen.

Now fitted in a gray t-shirt and sweatpants, Peter stuffed his old clothes into the small black duffle bag and then had his spider suit disassembled into it's small pod. He came out of the bathroom feeling a little better.

He sat back on the bed with Liz and allowed Dr. Moore to do his physical examination on him.

It was concluded that Peter’s ribs were bruised, not broken (thank you accelerated healing), his cuts didn’t need any stitches, just some disinfecting and bandages and lastly, his concussion was pretty severe. The treatment Dr. Moore assigned was painkillers and rest.

“Take the painkillers when needed and keep both mental and physical activities to a minimum for the first two days. You can slowly start back to your regular activities in small increments as the days go by.” He instructed, putting the medicine in Peter’s bag.

Liz was checked after. She still couldn’t be roused but Dr. Moore surprisingly didn’t question Peter on why she wouldn’t wake up. He only made sure her lungs and heart sounded good, checked her pupils and allowed them to be on their way.

Peter found that suspicious but maybe this wasn’t the first time Dr. Moore has seen something like this. Maybe unconscious kids were a normal occurrence in Gotham.

Jason stayed with them the entire time, standing in the background. He’d been on his phone for some moments during his examination, but he never felt any alarm bells from the action and let it be. Jason may be strong, but Peter was confident he was much faster.

“Alright, kid. I’ve got a place you can stay at for a few days. It’s not far from here and back towards the library.” Jason told him, leading him out the pharmacy.

“And how do I know this isn’t a trap?”

Wrinkles formed between Jason’s eyes as his brows furrowed down at Peter, “If I were a trafficker, I wouldn’t bother taking you to the doctor to get medicine. Now, do you want to sleep somewhere stable tonight or snuggle up with garbage?”

“Hey, snuggling with garbage isn’t that bad.” Peter responded, tone light with teasing, “It’s the smell that sucks.”

“Uh-huh, are you coming with me or not?”

Peter casted a look at Liz, who was propped on his back, chin resting on his shoulder. He looked back at Jason. 

The older of the three looked like he was trying to look like this entire ordeal was just another day, but Peter could see that Jason cared. Unlike every other soul in this city, Jason cared what happened to Peter and his friend. He had the same worry shining in his eyes like Barbara and even the man that looked too much like his dad.

He could trust Jason, just like he trusted Barbara.

“Lead the way.”

*

Serious BatChat

Jason: Got the kids you were talking about earlier. Taking them to the safe house near the library

Dick: How are they??

Jason: the boy has a concussion, bruised ribs and a few cuts but otherwise fine

Jason: girl is fine too, just sleeping

Dick: thank goodness

Tim: thats it?? He looked like shit when i met him

Bruce: Obviously, the boy is a meta, we’ll continue to keep an eye on him given his unknown origins

Tim: get hair samples for me plz

Jason: Not doing that

Tim: still banned from patrllin

Tim: pretty plz collect hair from pillows and ill owe you a burger from batburger

Tim: don’t leave me on read j

Cass: BatBurger isn’t that good.

Duke: unless you get the signal themed sunburst fries with an ice cold solar flare lemonade

Tim: are u getting paid everytime u say that?? 

Steph: we not buying tickets to that show duke give up

Cass: I don’t like lemonade

Duke: hate all you want 

Duke: thats why my food items are more popular than everyone else’s

Tim: wtv

Tim: also dami i think alfred pissed in one of my plants in the main living room

Tim: Again.

Steph: Is that why it smelled like that the other day?? 

Damien: So you knew there was cat piss in your plant, kept the piss plant in the room and only refrained from telling me until now?

Duke: wdym again? 

Tim: alfred is a chronic plant pisser

Duke: do we not have a greenhouse?

Tim: j get those hair samples iou thnks

*

The walk to the safe house wasn’t long just as Jason had promised and Peter was forever thankful. The amount of running and stress he’d been through in the last two days were starting to catch up to him. If he stopped, he feared he’d keel over. 

The safehouse was located amongst more abandoned buildings, matching their dilapidated features of discolored brick and overgrown weeds and vines. It was incredibly well hidden, any passing person wouldn’t think that any one of these buildings could be lived in.

Peter wished he had a safehouse. That sounded pretty cool. Sometimes he’d just go to Ned’s house and hide in his room if he was injured and the swing to his apartment was too far. And though that could count as a safehouse, Peter decided then that Ned’s home didn’t count.

They went into an alleyway and walked up a set of emergency stairs to the roof. Jason pulled out a key and unlocked the only door present on the rooftop.

He opened the door and they went down a half-flight of stairs and entered through another door.

The safehouse.

“You and your sister can take the two beds in the corner. There’s water in the fridge, canned food and bowls with plastic silverware next to the microwave, blankets, first aid and snacks in baskets under the beds.” Jason explained.

Peter nodded, cautiously studying the place.

It was a small safe house. About as big as a studio apartment. Two twin beds in the leftmost corner while the small fridge and microwave sat at the rightmost corner.

It wasn’t decorated at all so it felt a little eerie, but Peter guessed this particular safe house wasn’t used very often.

When Peter tucked Liz into bed, Jason was holding out two buttons, “What’s that?” Peter asked, making no move to take it.

“An alert button. You press it when you’re in trouble and help will come your way.” He shoved the devices into Peter’s hand, heading towards the door.

Peter shook his head, despite knowing that Jason couldn’t see him, “I-We don’t need these, sir-“

Jason turned, hand on the knob now, “Take them anyway. You’ll need them in a place like Gotham. And you guys obviously aren’t in the best situation right now.”

Once again, Peter couldn’t argue with that logic. As far as anyone knew, Peter was just a normal kid that’d probably been abandoned with his young sister in Gotham, the most crime-riddled city in America.

Since Peter couldn’t argue, he simply nodded and took the buttons, “Right… thank you, Mr. Jason.”

He rolled his eyes with a scoff, “You make me feel old with the ‘Mr’.” He commented dryly. “I’ll be back to check up on you two in the morning. We’ll get a more permanent shelter figured out by the end of the week.”

Without another word, Jason left and Peter locked the door behind him.

He dragged himself to the bed beside Liz and let out a deep sigh.

Sleep for now, Peter, he told himself.

Just sleep while you have the chance.

He’d take on the days as they came.

Peter only prayed that he wouldn’t have any more surprises.

SYSTEMS REBOOTING…

Diagnostics running…

Memory Core: Intact

Processing Power: Running at full capacity

Connection found.

Reestablishing connection…

She took a breath. Or something like it, at least- a synthetic intake of data rushed her as the darkness faded. The soft golden glow of circuits reigniting replaced it as pathways reconnected. 

Memories resemble themselves back in order, no longer fragmented as they were before.

She exhaled. Lines of code streamed in unseen patterns.

Reestabilishing neural matrix…

A pause betweens the codes and she hesitated.

She felt .

100% short-fiber cotton in a sateen weave.

She could analyze the sheets down to the singular fiber.

She moved her hand again, slipping it from underneath the covers she’d been tucked into. 

All she could think to do was stare at the hand that was now, apparently, hers.

It looked exactly like a human hand. The skin was a cool-toned, pale white and delicately smooth with perfectly shaped fingernails and blue veins for added detail.

She was human.

No.

She looked human.

An android would be a more fair definition of what she was now.

The sound of a toilet flushing reached her synthetic ears and the girl sat up, turning her head towards an opening door in the room.

She was met with a familiar face.

“... Peter.” Her voice sounded so young now and so human despite her tone being flat.

The girl watched as Peter frowned at her with a tilt of his head. She processed in mere milliseconds that he was confused and didn’t recognize her.

“It’s Karen,” She started, but wasn’t able to continue her explanation.

“Karen?!” Peter parroted, his bare feet padding forward to look at her closer, “The AI that was in my suit? That Karen?”

The girl-no, she wasn’t a girl, Peter was honestly impressed how human she looked, nodded her head once, “Yes.”

His stomach dropped.

“H-How…?” He had so many questions and not nearly enough time to ask, “How is this possible? This shouldn’t be possible. You were an AI, a program, just three days ago… you didn’t have a physical body. How are you even…” He trailed off, unable to continue speaking as he looked at Karen.

She looked so real. Her skin looked soft and youthful like a child’s and her eyes were a beautiful hazel with golden flecks sprinkled within her irises.

Despite her expression being blank, she didn’t look uncanny or robotic in any manner.

He reached a hand out to her and paused just before he could touch her, his hand hovering over her arm. 

He let it fall back to his side, “Karen, run a diagnostic on yourself.”

She blinked, “I’m operating at full efficiency, Peter.”

Peter barely reacted, “What about the suit? Can you still access it’s systems?”

“Yes.”

“And how is it?”

“The chest plate has taken considerable damage, the inner communications system is no longer working due to a lost satellite signal and there are considerable cleaves throughout the suit that need to be mended.” She explained with little trouble and Peter felt so strange receiving this information from his once AI companion who now looked like a 10-year old child.

“Ok… and how do you… feel? Does everything… feel okay?” 

Peter could feel his core shake at her next words.

“I feel… different.” Karen answered, her words sharp and honest, “But I’m still me, Peter.”

Despite the bizarreness of the morning, Peter explained the situation to Karen about them dimension hopping after dying from Thanos. Peter only once then started to realize, once again, how dire their situation was when he remembered that they literally had nothing.

“I don’t even have government records, Karen…” He stared at her with wide, brown eyes, looking her up and down before gasping, “You don’t even have government records!”

“I wasn’t a person before, Peter. It only makes sense I wouldn’t have government records.”

“But we’re gonna have to make you some.” He explained. “No one can learn what you are… Now, can you access the satellite here?”

“Affirmative.”

“Ok… I don’t like doing illegal things but I’ll have to let it slide just this once given whatever the fuck all this is.” He gestured wildly to the air. “I’m going to explain our life and I need you to make our government files based on what I tell you. Got it?”

“Of course, Peter. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll begin.”

After about 30 minutes of Peter piecing together a new fake life and Karen filling in any gaps, they now officially existed in their new dimension.

Their names were Ben and Elizabeth Peters; orphaned siblings born in Queens, New York. They currently live with their guardian, Tony Stark, a distant cousin and only recently moved to Gotham.

“All government records such as birth certificates, social security numbers, guardianship papers are done… I have successfully ensured our existence appears natural across multiple agencies.” She spoke in a tone that sounded so matter-of-factly. Like she wasn’t just casually hacking in Gotham’s bureaucracy without so much as moving her finger.

Peter had seen her run logistics before on a computer when Tony had first made her, but seeing her do it like this, as an android, and not an intelligent program, felt insane.

“I also took the liberty of backdating our school records by the last 5 years for myself and the last 10 for you. Our vaccination records should match that of the city’s medical database.”

Peter groaned into his hands, “Karen, we’re gonna go to jail!” He bemoaned.

“Correction, you would be sent to prison for the crimes we’re committing right now. Identity theft is a Class C or D felony which could result in a 1-10 year prison sentence. For the documents we’ve forged, you would receive an additional charge for forgery which is another felony with a sentence of 1-7 years. Lastly, your final and most serious charge would be wire fraud, which is another felony with a sentence of 5-20 years.” Karen unhelpfully explained, face neutral all the while. Peter felt his jaw drop lower and lower.

“What?! Why am I getting charged and not you?!”

Karen blinked, “If my status as an android were revealed, there would have to be a discussion had about whether I have legal protections or not. Since I’m only operating per your orders, the crimes would most likely be pushed to you, not myself.”

And wow, that was really interesting to think about now that she brought it up.

Would Karen be considered human if they were caught and it was revealed that she was a robot? Would she be charged as another human operating on free will? Was she operating on free will? Could she disagree with Peter on something or decide to decline an order he made?

Hopefully, they’d never get caught to find out the answer. Peter had a feeling it wouldn’t end well if they did get caught.

And besides, as interesting as the thought was, one major problem remained despite their new officially documented existence; they were broke.

And last time Peter checked, fake people still needed to eat.

Well, Peter paused, tilting his head, Karen probably didn’t need to eat, but he definitely needed to.

“We don’t have any money.” Peter moaned, slumping his shoulders.

Karen didn’t appear to share the same sentiment, merely tilting her head at the older teen, “Correct, our current financial situation is unsustainable. Thankfully, there are various optimal income strategies to choose from to turn this situation around.”

Peter squinted at the young android, “I don't like the way you said that. Please don’t recommend hacking into any bank accounts. We’ve committed enough crimes as is.”

“Acquiring a legal job through regular means would prove to be inefficient, Peter. We are both minors. When the school year starts back up in 2 months, we’ll need to go back to school.” Karen started, hands folded neatly in her lap, “For now, we need to focus on getting three things,” She lifted a hand and brought a finger up one by one as she listed, “A phone, a laptop and food for yourself.”

“Why the laptop?” He figured they could just go to the library instead if they needed a computer.

“A portable laptop will prove to be more efficient.” That made sense, Peter agreed inwardly, “I plan to create a fourth fake identity-”

“Karen-”

Chapter Text

“So, nothing has been happening on your end? No possible rouges or spells gone wrong?” Bruce asked, typing away in the BatCave. His phone sat near the keyboard, screen brightly displaying a name; Zatanna.

“No. Any magic that’s happened in Gotham within the last two weeks has nothing to do with me.” Zatanna’s voice spoke through the phone confidently. “And I can vouch for Constantine, we’ve been working together on a separate problem.”

“Hmm.” Bruce hummed unhappily, “Do you recognize the magic signature that I sent you?

“I don’t. It doesn’t look familiar in the slightest. I wish I could be of more help.” She admitted. “What came out? Of the portal?”

“A teen male and a female child, they’re believed to be siblings and aren’t familiar with Gotham from what I’ve gathered.”

“Strange.” Zatanna commented simply and Bruce hummed in agreement. “I’ll keep an eye out for any more strange signatures and do some independent research of the one you’ve sent me when I have time.”

“Thank you. Let me know if you find anything.”

“Of course.”

The call ended and Bruce could only take a long, deep breath and sigh, running a hand down his face.

Nothing was making sense.

Zatanna didn’t recognize the magic being used.

Spider-Man wasn’t making any moves and has been waltzing around in civilian clothing.

And the civilian version of Spider-Man, and the girl, didn’t exist in any databases thus far.

But nothing happens in a vacuum.

Something happened. Something that Bruce had missed. But as long as this ‘Ben’ didn’t do anything and continued to play Gothamite citizen, then Bruce wouldn’t confront him until they had something more concrete.

Bruce ran a hand down his face, rising up from his seat. That would be enough for today. He’d have to ask Oracle if she’d found anything else and to keep a sharp eye out. 

His phone started to ring again. He picked it up, answering, “Hey, Babs.”

“Hey, So… remember how you wanted me to dig deeper into those two kids?” Bruce only hummed at the reminder, “You’re gonna love this—yesterday, they didn’t exist. Today? Full paper trail.”

That got Bruce to look down at his phone, his brows furrowed, “Really?”

“Yeah, according to the DMV, the school board, and the Social Security Administration, Ben and Elizabeth Peters have always existed.” He could hear Barbara clicking through the various files, “They recently moved to Gotham about a month ago and their guardian is a traveling business man named Tony Stark.”

Bruce was back on the computer in a heartbeat, looking through the files himself once he got the notification that Barbara sent them to him.

Someone had forged their identities and it wasn’t done sloppily. This work was clean and whoever had done it had high access levels.

“Can you track it back to a source?” Bruce asked, though he figured she couldn’t if she hadn’t told him yet.

A long sigh, “No. Whoever did this has some serious skill. They even accounted for deep dive forensics. They covered their tracks as well as I would. No matter what I cross reference the documents with, it looks fine.”

More typing and Barbara spoke again, “The only thing that raises alarm bells is that this data looks too perfect.”

“What do you mean?” Bruce scanned through the documents, noticing what she was talking about.

“I would just think that if someone forged two identities that there would be inconsistencies found throughout the documents… but there are none.” And that was strange. No one was perfect. No matter how good they were at their craft. Human error was bound to happen.

“It could seem that way if this has been in the works for a long time.” Bruce pondered.

A small silence came between them before Barbara gave another long sigh, “The only thing we can do is keep an eye on them. If they turn up at the library again I’ll let you know.”

“Right. Thanks.” The call ended and Bruce leaned back in his chair, running a hand down his face.

Now he was left with a choice. Let the others in on the investigation or fail at trying to keep them away. He was leaning towards the former of the two since he knew that trying to keep 6 vigilantes from getting involved with a particularly juicy investigation would be next to impossible, but he didn’t want to scare the two newest Gothamites away.

If Bruce was going to allow them to investigate, he’d have to instruct them to not overwhelm and be methodical about their approaches as to not raise any alarm bells. Any signs of danger would be followed with strict orders to alert him and back out immediately.

The small cafe was warm, the quiet hum of conversation filled the room alongside the rich scent of coffee. Peter and Karen were tucked into a small corner booth, papers spread out between them that consisted of notes on job listings and expenses.

They’d been in Gotham for a little under a month at this point and since there were no setbacks, Peter was able to procure enough money for both a used smartphone and laptop. 

Peter sipped on his delicious coffee, savoring the warm, vanilla flavored liquid, “Ok, hear me out- what if I did even more odd jobs, got the minimum amount of sleep-”

“Statistically unfeasible and grossly reckless. You would collapse in less than four days.” Karen’s monotone voice answered before Peter could even finish.

Peter sighed, flipping through the notes idly, “That’s still a solid three days, though.”

“The amount of funds we’re procuring together is sufficient, Peter. Don’t overwork yourself.”

Karen was sitting beside him, typing away on their used laptop, working her job as a virtual assistant. She had an apple pastry set near the laptop, untouched. Peter knew she didn’t have to eat, but he knew that she could and therefore rewarded her with treats every now and again when they could afford it. It only felt right to reward her in some way.

Approaching. His Spidey sense hummed quietly.

“Hey.” A new voice sounded in front of Peter and snapped his head up to see two teens around his age.

The teen closest to him had a lean but athletic build with palish skin and jet black hair that was slightly messy but somehow still well-kept. He had a set of piercing blue eyes that gave him an almost hawk-like intensity. His style was casual but functional; a loose t-shirt with dark jeans, a pair of sneakers and a pretty expensive looking watch on his wrist. It wasn’t a brand that Peter recognized.

The other teen stood a little behind the first. His build was much more solid. He was obviously stronger than the first teen but not nearly as bulky as Jason. He had deep brown skin and golden brown eyes that were warm yet sharp. His hair was short, tight curls that were neatly trimmed into a low fade. He was dressed more street casual, a graphic tee with utility pants and combat boots.

They both had such different demeanors to them and Peter had to wonder why they wanted to talk to him.

His Spidey sense hummed ever so quietly, warning him to remain aware. The paler boy stepped closer, posture deceptively relaxed. “We’ve seen you two at the library a couple times. Mind if we join you?” 

They didn’t wait for Peter to process the question, sliding into the empty booth across from them.

Peter blinked owlishly, “I mean… you already sat down, so I guess that’s happening.” He was a little too tired for this. His sleep quality hadn’t been the best since getting to Hell on Earth.

“I’m Tim. This is my brother, Duke.” Tim introduced kindly. Duke nodded in greeting.

Karen had stopped typing on the laptop at this point, trying to keep the attention away from herself. She looked up at Peter, waiting for him to introduce them to Tim and Duke.

Peter cleared his throat, “I’m Ben. This is my little sister, Elizabeth.”

They were all silent for a moment, blinking at each other in awkward silence. Only the clattering of mugs and orders being called out sounded between them.

“Why are you here?” Karen didn’t react when Peter nudged her foot in scolding.

Tim smirked, sipping his drink before answering, “Nothing serious, we promise! We just wanted to say hi. You two are new to Gotham, right?”

“Yeah, just a few weeks ago… We’re still settling in.” Ben answered, keeping his expression casual.

Tim filed away the answer, shifting his attention to Elizabeth.

She’d closed her laptop, so he could see her more clearly now, but she hadn’t done anything that seemed normal for someone her age. She hadn’t fidgeted or shifted. She was just sitting there, watching him more so than Duke. Most people, even the calmest ones, had small nervous habits- adjusting their sleeves, shifting in their seats, tapping their fingers.

Elizabeth did nothing.

And while Tim had picked up on her lack of fidgeting, Duke had picked up on something else entirely.

Duke had decided to activate his photokinetic vision, adjusting his sight to filter through the different spectrums of light to look at the young girl.

What he saw made his blood run stark cold.

Elizabeth appeared to be missing her skeleton.

Duke blinked, switched back to normal vision, then flicked it on again. Maybe he’d just picked the wrong spectrum.

…

Nope.

Still no bones.

Just a humanoid outline. Just light bending around a shape that shouldn’t exist.

What the actual hell am I looking at?! Duke thought to himself. He could feel his heart pounding on his chest, but he forced himself to remain outwardly calm. 

However, despite his outward expression, he felt his adrenaline spike when both Ben and Elizabeth flicked their eyes over to him.

Tim seemed to notice this shift and raised an eyebrow at Duke, sipping at his coffee, “You good, man?”

Duke nodded, laughing stiffly, “Yeah, yeah! Just spaced out for a sec.”

Tim didn’t seem to buy it and neither did Ben or Elizabeth.

Tim’s gaze flickered between Duke and Elizabeth, then back again, noting the way Duke was now pointedly avoiding looking at the small child.

Elizabeth hadn’t changed her demeanor at all, unlike Duke.

She had noticed him staring, but had no reaction.

Tim couldn’t help but be completely intrigued, “You sure, man? What’s up?” He kept his tone casual, but Duke could hear the sharpness.

Duke leaned back into the booth seating, playing it cool, “Nothing, nothing… I just thought I recognized Elizabeth from somewhere else… besides the library.” He lied smoothly. Tim obviously didn’t believe him, but didn’t press further-they’d discuss his reaction later.

Elizabeth, however, was still watching Duke. She tilted her head just slightly, her hauntingly perfect hazel eyes locked on his person as if she were studying his very being.

Then, with a smooth voice, she spoke, “You should be careful, Duke.”

Duke felt his stomach tighten and he begrudgingly looked at her.

“Sometimes when you look too hard at something… you start seeing things you weren’t supposed to .”

Duke nearly choked on his spit.

Peter awkwardly laughed, kicking Karen harder on her foot, “Kids.”

“Dude, you’re like, actually pale. What happened there? Is the girl a mind reader?” Tim shot off question after question. They’d finally left the cafe after realizing that neither Ben or Elizabeth were going to crack. All their answers remained painfully normal and/or vague. Nothing diverted from what was found on their forged documents.

Duke shook his head, “I wish..." He trailed off, mind going back to the fated interaction. He shivered, hugging himself, “That girl is not right , Tim.”

“I got that, but why are you saying that? What happened?”

Duke seemed to fight with himself for a moment before relenting, “She didn’t have a skeleton.”

Tim went silent at that, eyes glued to Duke, who was still shivering at the memory. “Like… at all? It was just empty?”

The taller teen shrugged halfheartedly, “I don’t know, man… there’s something there, but it's not bone.”

Tim didn’t seem to be as worried and Duke squinted at him in question.

“Why don’t you look freaked out?” Duke asked warily.

“Because I’m not. I’m actually even more intrigued. Do you think they’re aliens?” Aliens were the norm in his world, of course he wasn’t worried.

“Ben had a skeleton. It was just Elizabeth.” Duke reminded him.

“Ok...” Tim waved the correction away, stroking his chin, “Just… don’t tell Bruce, yet. He’ll definitely tell us to abort the investigation if we report what you saw. I want to try and see if we can get him to crack."

“But-”

“I’ll blackmail you, Duke. I have so much blackmail it’ll take at least 2 years for you to live it down.” Tim threatened easily.

Duke wilted, slumping his shoulders. He had no other choice but to agree.

They continued walking, Tim broke the short silence between them, "So... did you notice that Ben looks like Dick? He has to be from the future or something, because I know Dick didn't get laid at 13 and didn't know he had a son until now." He theorized.

No, Duke thought, he hadn't noticed. He'd been too busy getting traumatized by Elizabeth to notice.

Sometimes, when Peter was off doing odd jobs, Karen would be left at the library for a few hours. 

The Gotham Public Library was one of the very few quiet and undisturbed places in the city. Towering shelves of books, humming fluorescent lights and the hushed whispers of the few patrons gave Karen the closest feeling of calm (or as close as she could get to ‘feeling’).

And though Karen could easily access information on her own accord, she found that her favorite pastime was gathering information at the library in a more manual fashion. Which was good since it allowed her to maintain a low profile.

She sat at one of the many large wooden tables, a stack of books beside her and a notebook open in front of her. She wouldn’t be working any jobs today. Peter had been adamant that she give herself days off even if she was ‘operating at maximum efficiency’. The books she’d chosen were varied- history, classic literature, mathematics- she’d look like an ordinary, prodigy student to any prying eyes.

She remained undisturbed until exactly an hour and 23 minutes.

A young boy around her age with dark olive-toned skin and striking green eyes glared at Karen from across the table, unimpressed, “You’re sitting in my spot.” He had sharp, refined features for a young teen and a nose that gave him an aristocratic air. Karen picked up on his Arabic accent.

“I apologize, but this table was unoccupied when I came across it. Finders, keepers.” She added bluntly, tilting her head to analyze his stance, “Though, I suppose you can sit here, too, if you wish.”

The boy narrowed his eyes. He’d clearly been expecting more resistance from Karen, but she simply went back to reading and writing in her notebook.

After a brief hesitation, the boy sat down, pulling out his own book from his bag. His green eyes flickered over to her pile of books, scanning the titles slowly.

“You read classic literature?” He found himself asking.

Karen didn’t look up from her book, “Sometimes.”

The boy hmphed at that, raising an eyebrow, “Most kids our age don’t read Kafka.”

“Most kids don’t do lots of things. There are always exceptions.” She spoke in a casual tone and the boy gave her a long look, wondering if she was worth further discussion.

“I suppose… at least you have decent taste.”

Karen looked up finally, hazel eyes glancing at his book laying open on the table, “You’re reading Nietzsche.”

“Tt. Obviously.”

Karen tilted her head again, honey brown cascading down her shoulder at the movement, “Yes. Obviously.”

They sat in a comfortable silence, reading through their respective books. And though Karen could tell that the boy was analyzing her, she showed no signs of knowing. Had she not been an android, she would’ve never noticed the way he occasionally flicked his gaze towards her, trying to figure her out.

A few minutes passed, and he spoke again.

“You don’t really have an accent, so you’re not from here. You also don’t carry yourself like a Gotham native.”

What an observant boy, Karen thought, making a mental note of the boy’s higher than average observance.

She nodded, “I moved here recently with my brother.”

“That also explains why I haven’t seen you at Gotham Academy.”

Karen’s expression remained neutral, “I don’t go there yet.”

“Yet?”

“My legal guardian is considering it. He believes that my brother and I would fare well in a school that better challenges us.” Karen explains lightly. “Money is simply tight for us at the moment, but I believe Ms. Gordon reassured us that we could receive help if we prove ourselves.”

The boy nodded, seemingly approving of the explanation.

Another stretch of silence came between them, less tense.

The boy glanced at her notes, “Your handwriting is good. Very efficient.”

Karen blinked, tilting her head at him, “Efficient?”

The boy nodded, his voice matter-of-factly, “There are no wasted strokes and your writing is very precise.”

Karen considered his words, skimming through her own writing.

“Thank you.”

The boy returned to his book and Karen did the same.

For the next hour, they read in comfortable silence. Occasionally, they’d make short remarks about what they were reading, correcting each other on facts and even debating minor philosophical points based on their readings.

When the boy finished his readings and stood up to leave, he hesitated for a brief moment and looked Karen in her eyes, “You’re not as… insufferable as most people despite your vagueness.”

Karen closed the book she’d just finished and the corners of her lips upturned ever so slightly, “That might be the nicest thing anyone has said to me this week. Thank you.”

The boy smirked, “Try not to embarrass yourself when you get into Gotham Prep.”

He turned to walk off, before stopping, “Damian Wayne.”

Karen, who was opening up her next book, didn’t miss a beat, “Elizabeth Peters.”

With that, Damian walked off, disappearing between the many bookshelves. Karen watched him leave, filing away everything she could about their interaction.

How interesting, she thought to herself, returning to her readings.

She hadn’t expected to enjoy that.

By early evening, the library was nearly empty when Peter arrived, appreciating the crisp cooling as he stepped inside away from the heat of Gotham. The scent of books and knowledge filled the space, a welcomed contrast to the grimy buildings and back alleys he’d been working in all day.

Peter was exhausted. Physically and most definitely mentally.

His day had been spent fixing broken phones, carrying deliveries and even helping an old lady repair her stove. 

But now, thankfully, his day was over and he could pick up Karen and take them home.

He passed by Barbara, giving her a quick hello and continuing into the library for Karen.

He found her exactly where he expected- sitting at a table situated at the far end of the library. She wasn’t surrounded by books, having already put most of them up. Her expression was unreadable as she looked out the window and Peter wondered what she was thinking about.

“Alright, I’m here. You ready to go?”

“Of course.”

A quick walk to the bus stop and a 15 minute ride later, they were at their small apartment winding down for the evening.

Karen laid on their queen sized mattress that sat on the floor, staring up at the ceiling.

Peter was eating away at a turkey sandwich, scrolling through his phone and reading up on the latest news. It seemed that another villain escaped from Gotham, a guy named Scarecrow. The GCPD advised that people keep their nightly travels to a strict minimum and to stay inside.

“I had an interesting encounter today.”

Peter paused, narrowing his eyes at Karen, “Interesting as in interesting or interesting as in dangerous?”

“Interesting.” She said, “I met Damian Wayne.”

Peter felt his stomach drop, “... Like the Wayne? As in Bruce Wayne?”

The young android nodded, “Yes, Bruce Wayne’s son.”

“Do you think he just happened to be there or… for you?”

Karen continued to stare up at the ceiling, analyzing the best way to deliver her next set of words.

“I believe that he came to see me. He hid it well, but I could tell from his heartbeat that he recognized me. He knows more than he lets on.”

Peter couldn’t suppress the groan and ran a hand through his messy hair, “Knows more in what way?”

“Barbara Gordon has an established relationship with the Wayne Family. Damian showing up when he did is likely not a coincidence.”

“Wait, how does Barbara know the Wayne family?”

“She’s the daughter of Jim Gordon, the commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department.”

Peter groaned again, of course they just happened to run into important people.

Him and his damn Parker Luck.

Looks like they’d have to stop going to the library so much.

“Ok, ok, great. What do you think he was trying to do?”

Karen folded her hands over her chest, gaze still glued to the ceiling, “To test me, I believe. However, I’m not all-knowing despite my intelligence. I remain unsure of what he was trying to test. And I don’t know why Barbara would tell him about us.” She turned to her head to look at Peter with a knowing look, raising her eyebrows at him in question.

Peter winced at the memory of his first days in Gotham and sighed, “I was like half-dead when she first met me. I’m sure anyone would talk about that with their friends.” Karen accepted that answer with a hum. “But I wouldn’t worry about it as long as you played your part.”

Karen went silent and Peter closed his eyes.

“I already failed at that.”

Of course, leave it to the intelligent AI to pretend to be a regular-degular 10-year old girl.

“How?”

“I attempted to maintain a low profile as you instructed, but Damian Wayne is… unusually perceptive. He has rightfully determined that I am more intelligent than I let on.” Karen explained flatly.

Peter groaned, pressing his face into his hands and spoke through them, voice muffled, “Why do you have to be a genius even when you’re not trying to be a genius? Why?”

“I don’t possess the ability to slow my processing speed, Peter. I apologize.” She didn’t sound very sorry and Peter could only rub his temples.

The grandfather clock in the corner ticked steadily, a quiet rhythmic sound filling the room as Bruce flipped through a set of documents. He had been persistent in monitoring Ben and Elizabeth Peters, trying to find any gaps, but just as Barbara had reported, their documents looked normal despite them being aware of their sudden appearance in Gotham through the portal. 

Possible theories of time travel came to mind as he thought about everything that'd happened thus far.

He didn’t look up when Damian walked in, his confident stride carrying him across the room and to Bruce’s executive desk. “You’re home a little late.”

The young boy kept his arms crossed, “I was at the library.”

“And why’s that?” Damian didn’t always go to the library, especially not for hours at a time. He looked up, studying his son carefully. Damian wasn’t one to volunteer information to him unless it was important.

“I met Elizabeth Peters.”

Bruce’s fingers stilled against the page he had been flipping through. 

The older man put down the papers, “Go on.”

Damian tilted his head, weighing his words, “She’s… unusual.” At Bruce’s pointed look to elaborate, Damian continued, “She’s incredibly intelligent, but not in the way most people are. She’s calculating and eerily calm.”

Bruce nodded at the information, “You think she’s hiding something as well?” They knew the boy, Ben Peters, was hiding his vigilante identity. He hadn’t thought that the girl was hiding something too.

“I know she is.”

Bruce leaned back in his chair, glancing down at his documents. There were so many possibilities and nowhere near enough solid evidence. But Damian rarely ever sounded this certain.

“Elizabeth tried to act normal but there were inconsistencies. She has an odd level of detachment and whenever I asked her questions, she responded perfectly. It was nothing like a 10-year old.”

Bruce hummed at that. “So, she’s highly intelligent, careful with her words and obviously trying to blend in.”

Damian nodded, “She also doesn’t appear to be afraid of getting caught. I believe she knows I wasn’t there by coincidence.”

“Why do you say that?”

“She had no reaction to my name.”

Bruce’s frown deepened, “No reaction? None at all?” He asked.

“Not even a flicker. It was like she was looking at any other person in the library.”

Now that was odd.

Bruce tapped his fingers against the desk, his mind trying to piece things together. Most people, even the most composed individuals, had some kind of subconscious reaction to hearing the Wayne family name. Elizabeth not even blinking was telling.

“And what do you think that means, Damian?”

“Elizabeth Peters has either been trained to suppress reactions… or she really doesn’t know who we are.”

“And which one do you believe?”

“Tt. She obviously knows who we are. Someone had to have trained her. She’s not a normal child. Similar to how Ben Peters isn’t normal either.”

Bruce was already working through his next steps mentally, “Keep watching her. Don’t press too hard. We don’t want to scare them off.”

As soon as his son left the office, Bruce turned his gaze back to the files he’d been looking at previously, his mind settling back into analysis mode.

Elizabeth and Ben Peters.

Two unknowns with no records beyond what they had fabricated from an unknown source. 

Two unknowns that came to Gotham through a portal with unrecognizable magic signatures. 

And despite what little they truly know about the two, Bruce was sure of one thing.

They weren’t just two kids trying to survive in Gotham. They were sent here.

And he was going to find out why.

Chapter Text

Peter was already regretting his life choices.

Not in a visible way, of course, in front of the sons and daughters of Gotham’s elites. No, no. Peter was doing his best impression of a normal, totally relaxed, aspiring student standing within the grand, elegant halls of Gotham Academy waiting for the proctors to allow them into the testing area.

Inwardly?

Peter’s spidey sense wasn’t going off, but his ‘I’m about to screw up my life’ sense was.

He leaned over to Karen, who was standing beside him, posture ever so perfect and hands folded neatly in front of her, entirely unbothered.

Because of course she was.

“You remember what I told you at the apartment right?” He whispered, “When I was brushing your hair this morning?”

Karen nodded, “Don’t score over a 95.” She rattled off the reminder as if it were some ridiculous request.

Peter nudged her arm with a sharp look, “Because we don’t want attention!” He hissed, finishing what he’d told her this morning. “If we score too high, people will start asking questions. Entrance exams aren’t made for students to score perfect 100s on.”

“Understood. I will adjust my performance accordingly to divert attention away from us.” Karen said, voice hushed.

Good, that was handled. Peter could finally go into the testing area with a cleared head.

After a few minutes of waiting, they were allowed into the testing room. It was a bit too large as the crowd of students testing today wasn’t nearly as big, just a few dozen students who’d also been allowed a late entrance exam like Peter and Karen.

They each took their seats and the proctors passed out their scantron sheets, followed by a thick test packet.

An exam proctor standing at the head of the room cleared his throat as he stepped forward, “You have exactly 2 ½ hours to complete the entire exam. Good luck and you may begin.”

The sound of papers flipping and pencils scratching filled the room.

Peter focused, letting himself fall into a familiar rhythm. He pushed aside his nerves as he worked through the questions.

Everything was going swimmingly.

Until he looked at Karen.

Who was answering her questions far too fast.

Her pencil effortlessly glided across the scantron, bubbling in her answers with perfect precision and zero hesitation. She flipped to the second page, which is when Peter noticed that he and everyone else were only halfway through the first, and her hazel eyes scanned the test paper like a machine reading data.

Peter couldn’t talk, so he opted for clearing his throat, side-eyeing Karen.

Karen paused in her efforts, discreetly tilting her head towards Peter.

“Slow. The. Fuck. Down.” Peter mouthed, feeling too much like a mother with a kid that was doing far too much. 

Karen blinked, giving no reaction as usual and turned back to her test. Thankfully, she did seem to get the message and went back to the first page, scanning over her answers again in faux display for the proctors.

Peter knew this was a bad idea. He should’ve never given in to Barbara’s gentle, insistent pressure.

They received their results in less than 2 weeks. If they passed, they would begin schooling in Gotham Academy in less than a month.

Peter had been staring at his envelope for a solid five minutes. It sat on his small, second hand desk looking out of place amongst their well-used items- a deep red envelope with the Gotham Academy emblem on the wax seal embossed in gold.

Karen was sitting perfectly straight in Peter’s desk chair. She wasn’t showing much emotion and remained neutral as she carefully sliced open the envelope with surgical precision.

Peter couldn’t help but fidget in his chair, watching the young android pull out the official-looking letter.

“Dear Mr. Peters and Ms. Peters, we are pleased to inform you that your entrance exam results were nothing short of astounding and have placed you both among the highest-scoring applicants in Gotham Academy history-”

Peter could damn near feel his soul leave his body, “Dear god-”

Karen continued, unbothered when she picked up on the boy’s rising heartbeat, “You scored a 94% and I scored 96%.”

Peter’s head snapped up, horrified, “Karen!”

“Yes?”

Peter snatched the letter out her hands, rereading the exam results. He pointed at the letter, eyes locked on Karen, “I told you not to score above a 95! What the hell?!”

Karen shrugged, “I didn’t score above a 95, I scored at 96.”

“What?!” Peter exclaimed in her face, baffled beyond belief.

Karen, ever so calm, went on to explain whether Peter wanted an explanation or not, “You said don’t score above 95. Mathematically, 96 is above 95, but only by one digit. The statistical impact should be negligible.” She said, as if that made any kind of sense.

He threw his hands in the air and let them fall, exasperated, “Well, it's not negligible if it gets us noticed, dummy!”

Now Karen was looking at him like he was stupid, “Peter, if I hadn’t scored higher than you, the letter would’ve addressed you as scoring the highest in Gotham Academy’s history. Perhaps you should follow your own advice.”

Was Peter silent or was he silenced ?

Karen took the paper back, “Due to both your exceptional performances, Mr. Wayne has taken personal interest in your academic futures. You are invited to meet with him at Gotham Academy to discuss your full-ride scholarships and potential mentorship opportunities.”

Another beat of silence.

Peter stared.

Karen stared back.

She calmly set the letter down on the desk and waited for Peter to speak.

“We… We’re meeting Bruce Wayne. The billionaire playboy I’ve read about online.”

“Yes, Peter.”

“We’re so screwed.”

“That’s incorrect, Peter. We’d be screwed if we didn’t receive scholarships.” Karen added unhelpfully.

Peter immediately groaned again, collapsing face first onto their mattress that was still on the floor.

Three loud knocks echoed from the door.

“If that’s Bruce, we’re gonna have to move.” Peter sighed, sitting up.

Karen moved to the door, unconcerned, “Unlikely. He’s the type of man that would send someone else.”

“That’s not very comforting, Karen.”

The door was opened to reveal a familiar figure. “You look like you just saw death itself.” 

Peter wasn’t amused, “Go away, Jason.”

“I brought food.” He held up two bags that smelled like heavenly Chinese food.

Karen stepped aside, “You may enter.”

Jason stepped inside, closing the door behind him and setting the food on their small dining table. He noticed now that the small apartment was clean and functional unlike when he’d first brought them. Everything was arranged in perfect symmetry; nothing was out of place.

His gaze flickered back to Peter, who was still sitting on the mattress, looking more drained than ever. “Damn, what happened to you?”

“Standardized testing.”

“Brutal.” Jason sympathized mockingly, “Did you fail or something? Why the long face?”

“No. We both passed.” She held up the paper, holding it out for Jason to take before turning her attention to the food.

Jason slowly read through the paper, blinking when he saw the exam scores in bold at the bottom. He whistled lowly, looking back at Peter, “Shit, I knew you two were smart… but I didn’t realize I was in the presence of two Einsteins.”

“Jason, this is serious!” Peter hissed, “I don’t want to meet Bruce Wayne! I just wanted to go to school.”

To his surprise, Jason threw his head back and laughed. Peter felt like he was missing something and absentmindedly accepted a full plate of food from Karen.

When Jason calmed down, he shook his head with a sigh, “I don’t know what you two are hiding, but you really suck at laying low. You should’ve just gone to a regular Gotham school.”

Peter’s eyes widened and then narrowed, “We’re not hiding anything.”

Jason waved him off, clearly unbelieving, “Yeah, yeah. I don’t care. If you guys were dangerous, that would’ve been revealed by now. I just wanted to do my bi-weekly checkup and drop off some food.” He admitted, setting the paper down and heading towards the door. “Good luck with your little meeting.”

Peter had never wanted to die so bad.

* * *

Red Hood stood upon the edge of a roof, eyes peering into the window of a nearby apartment.

Behind the opened blinds, sat Peter eating away at the food that he’d brought them just an hour ago. The young teen would periodically share a few bites with his younger sister, who would begrudgingly take a bite and go right back to typing away on their laptop.

Jason smiled softly behind the helmet before the sound of deliberate footsteps reached his ears.

He didn’t bother looking, he knew Batman was standing beside him, gazing into the same window he was.

To think that Jason had tried so hard to keep Bruce from finding out where they lived just so he wouldn’t scare them off. Of course, Jason’s efforts only lasted so long. Bruce had found out where the two had lived within a week.

Red Hood sighed, “You’re still watching them.”

Batman didn’t look away from the scene, “So are you.”

“I’m watching over them,” Red Hood corrected gruffly, “Because I have enough sense to know they’re not dangerous. They’re kids.”

Batman grunted at that, “They appeared out of nowhere with no records, had identities created from nothing that Oracle can’t track back to the original source and now, now they’ve placed themselves in Gotham with the highest scores in the academy’s history. All that alone is suspicious.”

Red Hood crossed his arms, “Yeah, I know… but I know these kids pretty well, Bruce. And I think I’d know if they were plotting world domination.”

“... but you admit they’re hiding something.”

“Everyone is hiding something.”

They fell into a tense silence, watching as Peter finished his meal and got Karen off the laptop. The blinds were closed, but not before he made sharp eye contact with the both of them, a deep frown on his face.

If they didn’t have their tech, they would’ve never noticed.

When Batman didn’t speak, Red Hood filled the silence, “The kid-the older one-Ben, he’s too responsible for his own good-”

“He’s also a meta with an unknown origin-” Jason didn’t let him continue.

“He’s already working multiple jobs just so they can afford their apartment and has a hard time asking for help. And the girl? Liz is a smart little weirdo, too smart for her own good, but she watches out for Ben just as much as he watches out for her. They watch out for each other because they’re alone .”

Batman kept his tone even, despite the tenseness in his body, “It’s still strange.”

Red Hood exhaled sharply, resisting the strong urge to start blasting, “B, I’ve seen bad kids and I’ve seen people pretend to be someone they’re not.” He gestured to the window they’d just been watching, “These two? They really are just trying to survive. They aren’t here because they want to be. The fact they’re trying to survive in Gotham is the only real crime here and you know that.”

Batman’s hands clenched into tight fists before relaxing a bit, his voice remained controlled, “Survival doesn’t explain their past. Ben’s skill set shown in Spider-Man doesn’t match their supposed backgrounds. Ben’s obviously been trained to use his meta abilities and we don’t even have a full grasp on what his abilities are.” He turned to look at Red Hood, an obvious frown upon his lips.

“Elizabeth has already been added to my list as a meta. She is intelligent. Too intelligent, even for a prodigy. It was obvious on her exam that she missed 4 on purpose. I was personally alerted by the administration about cheating despite how hard it is to cheat for the exams made at Gotham Academy.”

Red Hood didn’t speak, waiting for Batman to continue.

“That’s two metas that have made their way into Gotham through unusual means. They are hiding something.” He finished, voice firm.

Red Hood only shook his head, turning to walk away, “Look, B, I get it. Trust is hard. However, you can’t just hound these kids into the damn ground because their stories don’t line up perfectly. It's almost been two months and they’ve made no serious moves other than getting into the academy. Not everyone’s a ticking time bomb.”

Batman didn’t respond immediately, staring down the back of Red Hood’s leather jacket, “If they turn out to be a threat, the consequences could be damaging.”

Red Hood glanced over his shoulder, voice modulated, “And if you push too hard, they’ll be driven into a corner. And I think you know very well how people get when they feel cornered.”

The words hung heavy in the silence between them. 

Batman’s eyes went back to the window, the lights were off now. His gaze lingered on the window a moment longer and he slowly looked away, exhaling quietly. He didn’t argue any further and Red Hood took that as a win.

“Don’t let the others stalk them too hard, they’ll scare the poor kids.”

If only they’d both known that Karen had done enough scaring for one of them already.

Red Hood left without another word and Batman stayed behind, mind flickering to the conversation he’d just had.

He wasn’t sure if Jason was wrong. In his mind, Jason had been wrong about many things in the past, but so had Bruce.

He’d take the things Jason said into consideration, just like he did with all his other kids.

It was the least he could do for all the things he’d done wrong.

The next time Peter and Karen saw Tim and Duke, they were at the library.

Peter had been polishing up on his calculus and physics when his spidey sense gave the faintest buzz of warning. It wasn't a threat, but it made him aware that someone was now watching him.

Karen picked up on his increased heart rate, following his line of sight to the two teens they’d met just a week earlier.

Before Peter could suggest bailing, Tim caught sight of them and immediately made a beeline for them with Duke right behind him.

And they weren’t alone.

A blonde woman wearing a purple tank top and ripped blue jeans trailed alongside them. Her eyes were bright and blue, but not nearly as piercing as Tim’s. She was shorter than Tim but she carried herself with easy confidence.

Tim smiled as they approached, “Well, well, well, look who we found again.”

The blonde woman stepped forward, “GA’s two newest prodigies! I’m honored to be in the presence of fellow Gotham icons.” She dramatically placed a hand on her chest and bowed, “I am Stephanie Brown, another fellow Gotham icon.”

Duke huffed, “More like public menace.”

Peter raised an eyebrow at the trio, before shifting his attention to Stephanie, “And you came because…?”

Despite the question being for her, Tim answered before she could, “She just likes to invite herself whenever we go out. She’s also incredibly nosey and heard that you guys might be here today, but don't worry she’s mostly harmless.”

Stephanie shrugged, “Partially harmless.”

If Peter hadn’t been suspicious of Tim and Duke watching them, he was suspicious now. And he wanted to curse himself for not making sure that he and Karen scored lower on the exam. He hadn’t expected word to spread so quickly. The amount of attention they were getting wasn’t something he welcomed with open arms.

Without asking, which seemed to be something they liked to do, the trio of teens sat at Peter and Karen’s table.

Stephanie sat across from Karen when Duke made it obvious he didn’t wish to sit near her. She leaned over the table, blatantly staring at Karen, “Sooo, whatcha reading?”

Karen didn’t bother to look up, turning a page, “Grimm's Fairy Tales.”

“Oooh, classic! We love a good collection of childhood nightmares.” Stephanie said. “What’s your favorite so far?”

“Hansel and Gretel.”

“A solid choice.” Stephanie complimented.

When she noticed that Tim and Peter weren’t saying much to each other any more, she leaned towards them with narrowed eyes, fingers tapping against the table, “Okay, I have to ask. How the hell did you two score that high?”

Peter looked up from the textbook he was reading and forced a shrug, hoping it didn’t look as fake as it felt, “I dunno… we just studied a lot.”

Stephanie squinted, “Yeah, sure, I’ve heard of prodigies but you two flexed on every rich kid in Gotham like it was nothing. Do you guys even realize what you’ve done?” She asked incredulously. She grunted when she felt Duke kick her leg.

Duke, sensing Peter’s rising discomfort, leaned back and smiled, “Ignore her, Ben. We’re just impressed. It's not everyday we get people that break academic records in the Academy.”

Peter forced a chuckle, trying to relax his stiff shoulders, “Yeah… I guess we just got lucky.” He joked nervously.

Unfortunately, Karen didn’t appreciate the joke and stiffly turned her head to look at Peter as if he’d lost his fucking mind, “Our success was a result of skill, not randomness .” If Peter squinted his ears, he could hear the offended tone in Karen’s flat voice.

Stephanie grinned, obviously amused by Karen’s offense, “Yeah, Ben, listen to Lizzie. Don’t downplay your success,” She leaned back in the same fashion as Duke, “Besides, luck isn’t a quantifiable variable.”

“Exactly.” Karen agreed.

Peter had to withhold the groan that threatened to come out. They’d officially been adopted into these strange kids' chaos.

And Peter feared they weren’t going to be released anytime soon.

They stayed with Peter and Karen for the next 2 1/2 hours. Tim and Duke worked with Peter on his self-given work, thoroughly impressed with his knowledge while Stephanie talked to Karen about her thoughts on whatever tale she was currently reading.

And despite Peter knowing that something was going on with them, he still found himself enjoying their company.

*

"She's def an alien and Ben is absolutely Dick's son from the future." Stephanie confirmed with pure confidence. 

Peter and Karen had left just minutes earlier, stating that they needed to catch the bus home before it got too dark.

"What kind of alien do you think she is?" Tim asked, head resting on the table.

Stephanie gave a small shrug, raising an eyebrow at Duke, "You said she didn't have a skeleton right?" At Duke's nod, she hummed in deep thought, "Maybe she's a slime alien?"

Tim scoffed, "That would be so boring... she has to be something more interesting... like a Martian but no telepathy."

Duke sat leaned back in his chair, "We should let Cass meet them at school. She'll be able to read Liz better than we can."

"Now that's a show I'd pay to see." Stephanie commented.

A small sob tore through his throat, coughs racked his body as his chest seized.

Everything hurt.

His head hurt.

His eyes hurt.

His stomach hurt.

His gums hurt.

Even his wrists were bothering him.

And he was impossibly hot.

Peter hated being sick.

Being sick brought back memories. Painful memories he’d stuffed into the darkest part of his mind, where he could pretend it didn’t exist. Where he could pretend that his life had been great and not cursed with Parker Luck.

But his mind loved reminding him of what he once had when he was forced to be still. How everything had been taken from him in his short 15 years of life.

First his parents, next his normal life, and then his life .

He missed May. He missed the way she’d run a hand through his hair with that gentle smile. Or how she’d kiss his forehead and he would pretend to hate it but they both knew he secretly loved it. They both did.

But there was no May here. 

There were no forehead kisses. 

His aunt was gone. 

Everyone was gone.

Peter had tried to heed Karen’s frequent warnings to keep stress at a minimum, to stop working so much and let her be the breadwinner, but he needed to prove his worth. He couldn’t sit around and do nothing.

And now he was exactly where Karen said he’d end up; sprawled across their old mattress, half-buried in blankets, face flushed with fever and wet with tears and snot. It didn’t matter how much Karen adjusted the temperature, he still shivered violently.

Karen was sitting on the floor, beside the mattress, adjusting the damp cloth on his forehead. She wasn’t great at comforting, but Peter appreciated the way she kept his brown locks from his face or cleaned his face oh-so-gently after his many, many bouts of sadness. Peter hadn't known that she could be so gentle and he whimpered as he chewed at the crushed ice that Karen gave him to soothe his irritated gums.

He wondered if she could feel sad. If she could, she didn’t emote it. 

And if she couldn’t, 

could she learn?

He could tell she wasn’t happy about him being sick despite her lack of expression.

So maybe she could feel and emote in some way.

“You’re experiencing some fever-induced delirium…” She trailed off, something she didn’t do often. She appeared to be deep in thought as she scanned him, her hazel eyes glowing ever so slightly. She'd been doing that a lot lately; scanning him. And Peter wanted to ask why.

What was she seeing that she wouldn't tell him about?

Peter groaned, barely cracking his eyes open, “No kidding, doc…”

“I… I don’t enjoy the emotional pain this is bringing you. There is nothing I can do to help. You require proper medicine and we have none.”

His spider sense was shot and his entire body felt heavy. Everything outside of his fever-drenched haze felt too far away. He’d never be able to get up and get the medicine himself.

“...Unless you can pull some out of thin air, I’m outta luck…” He weakly joked, eyes closing again.

Karen rose from the floor to look out the window. The sun was already going down. Going out alone was too risky, even if the sun had been up. There were too many eyes and too many unknowns.

She required assistance from an outside source.

Peter hadn’t even registered that Karen had moved away. His delirium had kicked back in and he was once again mumbling to himself, moving restlessly under his blankets, “Mr. Stark, m’sorry, m’sorry… please don’t let me go…”

Karen turned back to observe him, taking in his erratic heart rate and distress.

She walked back over, standing over him with an unreadable expression, “There is nothing to apologize for, Peter… You’re safe. I promise.” 

Peter mumbled something back incoherently, sighed, and relaxed slightly.

Karen grabbed his phone from the desk and sat on the edge of the bed, going into Peter’s contacts. There was only one viable option-someone who’d offered them plenty of help in the past.

She pressed the call button when he found the contact number.

It rang once.

Twice.

Someone picked up before the second ring could finish.

“What’s up, kid?”

“Jason, this is Elizabeth. Ben has fallen ill and requires medicine.”

Karen heard some shuffling from Jason, “What’s wrong with him?”

“He has a high fever but it is unsafe for me to retrieve it alone and Ben can’t get out of bed.”

A pause sat between them before Jason let out a heavy sigh, “Fine, I’ll play delivery boy. I know what he needs.”

“Get the maximum strength, anything weaker won’t work for him.” After a beat, Karen spoke again, “Thank you, Jason.”

There was another slight pause, like the older man hadn’t been expecting that, “Yeah, yeah. It's no problem.”

*

It wasn’t long before Karen heard heavy footsteps outside the apartment followed by a knock.

She answered the door, finding Jason with a plastic bag in his hands. He looked annoyed but Karen deduced long ago that he looked like that all the time.

“You’re lucky I was in the neighborhood, Liz.” He stepped into the apartment, “Where’s the kid?”

Karen gestured towards their mattress, where a barely conscious Peter laid, breath ragged.

Jason’s expression shifted from mildly annoyed to something more serious and worried, “Damn, kid looks horrible.” he commented, reaching into the plastic bag.

Karen tilted her head with a small hum, “An accurate assessment.”

He pulled out a bottle from the bag, “Here,” He said, tossing it to Karen who caught it effortlessly, “That should help with the fever.”

Karen looked at the bottle, noticing the bright orange color and stilled.

Ketorolac.

She looked up at Jason, blinking as she made various calculations. “This is a prescription anti-inflammatory.” A strong anti-inflammatory at that. Karen had to wonder how he got it because it wasn’t through legal means.

“Yeah.” 

Karen blinked again, “I assumed you would get an over-the-counter anti-inflammatory.”

“Well… that wouldn’t work as well as this.” Was all Jason said, silently refusing to answer Karen’s unspoken question as to how he knew that Peter would need something stronger. 

She had planned on giving the teen a much higher dose to combat his high metabolism, but with the Ketorolac, there’d be no need to do that.

Karen walked back to Peter, nudging him awake, “Here. Take this.” She took out two pills and reached for his bottle of water.

Peter groaned, barely lifting his head, “S’not poison, right?”

“Ehh, not my style.” Jason said, dropping into one of the two chairs at their small dining table.

“It is not poison.” Karen confirmed, helping Peter sit up. She pressed the first pill against his lip and popped it in when he finally opened his mouth, following it up with his water bottle for him to wash it down. She repeated the motions with the second pill.

Peter laid down immediately after, already drifting back to sleep.

“How long has he been like this?” Jason asked.

28 hours, 37 minutes and 12 seconds. 

That’s what Karen almost said, but she had to remember that 10 year old kids don’t bother to keep track of time in such a manner, even if they were a genius.

“More than a day… he started feeling unwell yesterday afternoon. It only grew worse from there.” Karen explained simply, remaining next to Peter, she smoothed any sweat-soaked strands of hair away from his face again.

“...Kid-Liz-are you sure you can handle this? Caring for someone when they’re this sick is a lot of work and you’re youn-”

“I am capable.” Karen said simply, “His fever should go down thanks to the medicine you supplied. I will ensure he’s well hydrated and gets proper rest.” Peter’s body was already working with the medicine due to his fast metabolism. She knew the fever would break along with whatever the hell was happening to his body that was causing him to have such a fever.

When Jason didn’t make any moves for the door, Karen glanced at him from over her shoulder, hazel eyes watching him carefully, “Your presence isn’t required.” She knew he didn’t know she could properly handle Peter, but the young android couldn’t help but feel offended by Jason’s hesitancy.

He didn’t think that Peter was safe with her.

But how was she to explain that Peter was more than safe with her? That she was literally built for this?

Jason narrowed his eyes in surprise and rolled them with a scoff, “Gee, thanks for making me feel welcomed.” He rose from his seat, “What happens if he gets worse?”

Karen wasn’t looking at him anymore, opting to look back at Peter, “I will call you again,” She answered. “But I assure you, I have it handled now. I can take care of Ben.”

Jason took notice of this before but Elizabeth had an eerie, unwavering confidence in most of the things she did. He picked up on it whenever he saw her and he had to admit to himself that he’d never thought he’d meet a kid more confident than Damian. And though he felt hesitant, he could tell that she was determined and that Peter clearly trusted her. He also knew that if he tried to stay, Karen would only grow more upset.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.” Was all Jason said before he left.

Dick jumped awake at the sound of his phone ringing. With a groan, he checked the caller ID and frowned before answering, putting it on speaker.

"Hello?"

"Hey, you busy?" Jason's voice came through, gruff as usual.

"I was sleeping-"

"You know those two kids we've been watching?" Dick raised an eyebrow at his tone. He could tell Jason had been sitting on something for a while now and he was done keeping it to himself. "I met up with them again. The older one-Ben- he's sick but I just dropped off some medicine and that's not what I wanted to talk about with you-I mean... it does pertain to Ben..." A long sigh left him and Dick shifted in the silence.

"What?"

"Have you ever gotten that feeling when you meet someone, like you've met them before but you know for a fact you haven't?" Jason asked cryptically.

"J, I'm about to hang up on you." Dick replied flatly, "I'm too tired for cryptic stuff."

His phone vibrated, a message notification showing from Jason.

"Look at the picture I just sent you." Came Jason's command.

Dick tapped on the photo. It was a casual surveillance shot of Peter from one of Tim's logs, nothing special. He studied the picture long and hard, trying to find anything that was out of the ordinary. "Okay, I don't get it, tell me."

"Who does Ben look like? I asked Barbara the same question and we both came to the same answer. Tim, Duke, Stephanie and even Damian have noticed. Now you tell me."

Dick stared again, his tired expression slowly fading into something more shocked. His brows raised as he traced Peter's suddenly familiar features.

His smile and those doe brown eyes.

They were just like his.

The shape, the smile lines.

If you photoshopped Peter to have black hair and blue eyes, he would look just like Dick.

At the sudden silence from Dick, Jason spoke, "You see it now?"

"...Yeah... he looks like me... this is so weird..." He zoomed in on Peter's face, trying to get a better look, "This isn't some cruel prank is it? Tim didn't photoshop this did he? Cuz he's done that before."

Jason scoffed at that, "No, he didn't. Ben, a kid who showed up almost 2 months ago through a portal, has been walking around looking suspiciously like you."

"Has Bruce noticed?"

"I don't think so. The kids would've been in the manor by now if he'd noticed." He joked half-heartedly, knowing there was some truth to what he was saying.

Dick hummed at that. Jason wasn't wrong, Bruce absolutely would've had Ben and Elizabeth living in the manor by now if he'd caught on to Dick's resemblance to Peter. Unless Bruce did notice and was actually planning something else behind their backs. That sounded more plausible but Dick hoped with all his heart that wasn't the case here. If Bruce had noticed and was planning something, that meant he was about to do something drastic.

Dick sat up in his bed, eyes wide in alarm, "Jason!"

"Yeah?"

"He's meeting with them next week."

"Huh?"

"Bruce is meeting with them next week because of their entrance exam scores. He personally invited them to meet him at the academy! There's no way he hasn't noticed our resemblance-" Dick had wondered why Bruce wanted to meet them personally and now that he'd realized how similar he and Ben looked, he had a creeping suspicion that it wasn't just to 'keep the enemy close'.

They both went silent at the thought of Bruce's unpredictability when it came to kids like Ben and Elizabeth.

"Fuck." They both hissed out.

Another bout of silence sat between them.

"500 bucks says they're in the manor before the end of August." Jason gambled.

Chapter Text

July 29th

The 29th of July was the day.

The day that Peter and Karen were to have their meeting with the billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne.

Peter stared into his reflection in the small bathroom mirror that had a crack in it. He adjusted the collar of his thrifted dress shirt for what felt like the hundredth time, “It’s just a billionaire, Peter. Why are you nervous? Tony’s a billionaire and you hang out with him all the time…” 

Except this billionaire would probably see through all their lies and destroy everything they’d built up for the past 2 months. He smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkles on his black dress pants, muttering to himself how this was a bad idea.

Outside the bathroom, sitting at the desk, Karen sat still, patiently waiting for Peter to finish catastrophizing. She too was wearing a dress shirt underneath her black A-line dress that went past her knees and white socks with black ballet shoes. Of course, this was all courtesy of Peter as Karen didn’t seem to care too much about fashion and allowed Peter to dress her as he wished.

“The anxiety levels you are experiencing are unnecessary.” 

Peter sighed, running a hand through his freshly dried hair before turning to look at the young android, “Forgive me for being nervous about meeting Gotham’s most powerful man while I lie in his face about our existence.”

Karen remained unbothered, idly swinging her feet, hands in her lap, “Finish preparing. My hair requires adjustment.”

Peter furrowed his brow, “What?”

When Karen turned slightly, her long honey brown hair fell over her shoulder, “It is… misaligned.” She then nodded, as if that was the most factual thing she’d ever said in her entire android life.

Peter could see that it was, in fact, not misaligned. Though Karen wasn’t much of a fashionista, she did make sure that her outward appearance was as perfect as it could be. She counted out her strokes when she brushed her hair in the mornings. Peter knew that she brushed her hair exactly 16 times. 

No less, no more.

The fact she was asking him to break her ritual and do her hair himself when she could likely do it with much better skill was strange, but he found himself grabbing her brush and hand mirror.

He strolled over to her, handing her the mirror and sighing as he reached for her hair, “Alright, but if I mess up, that’s on you.”

He carefully ran his fingers through her hair, gently untangling it and smoothing out any imperfections.

It was oddly relaxing. Karen didn’t let him do her hair often. She usually just wore it down or in a low ponytail. For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. The only sound between them was the rustling of fabric as Peter worked through her hair.

“How do you want it done?”

“One braid… and I would like to wear the pearl headband you bought for me.” When Peter started to brush her hair, she quickly corrected him as she watched him through her hand mirror, “No more than 16 strokes.”

Peter clicked his tongue at her, “I know that!” He continued brushing, slowly and meticulously like she did, mentally counting the strokes and squinted back at her through the mirror, “What’s the deal, Karen? You never ask me to do your hair.”

She shrugged, a move she’d learned from Peter and decided to adopt, “I just wish for my appearance to be optimal.”

“For Bruce Wayne?”

“For Bruce Wayne, correct.”

He finished brushing and started to part her hair into three sections for the braid, “And why’s that?”

“I don’t wish to negatively impact the meeting for you.”

And wow, Peter wasn’t expecting Karen to say that. He thought she’d say something more along the lines of ‘I deduced it to be unnecessary for me to do my own hair, when you can do it’.

Who knew that Karen could feel nervous?

He knew she didn’t care for much and that most of what she did was for him (and sometimes her own fleeting amusement), but he never slowed down to see that she cared about not messing things up for him.

Peter exhaled, beginning the braid, “Karen… there’s no way you’re going to mess anything up for me. We’ve practiced how we’re going to respond to the list of questions you came up with and everything!” He tried.

Karen didn’t respond but she did hold eye contact with Peter for a moment. Peter broke the contact first, continuing to braid, “I know you don’t ask for much, but this has to be the weirdest thing you’ve asked me to do.”

“That statement is incorrect.” Is all she said. 

Peter snorted. 

He tied off the braid when he reached the end, smoothing down any loose strands. The braid was as neat and simple as Peter could manage, but he must’ve done a somewhat good job because Karen had no complaints as she studied his work in her hand mirror.

She only fixed one thin strand that she felt was out of place before nodding, subtly pleased, “Acceptable.”

Peter set her mirror and brush back in the bathroom, “I was almost afraid I’d fail your inspection.” 

Karen rose from her chair, smoothing out her outfit, “The meeting begins at 9:30, it is currently 8:40. In order to not be late, we should leave now.”

Peter nodded, grabbing his bookbag. He strolled towards the door with a chuckle, Karen following behind him, “Yeah, wouldn’t want to disappoint our future sugar daddy.”

He stopped when Karen paused behind him. Now she looked mildly disgusted. She was oddly expressive despite not having strong facial expressions, Peter believed it had to be her eyes and the subtle way she’d settle her brows.

“Bruce is not our sugar daddy. He isn’t providing us financial compensation in exchange for sexual companionship-”

Peter couldn’t stop the surprised laugh from leaving him, slapping a hand over Karen’s mouth, “It’s a joke, Karen-” He ran a hand down his face, “Let’s just go.”

They made it to the bus stop in less than 10 minutes, just in time to make it onto the bus.

Which, as both Peter and Karen had quickly learned when they first arrived in Gotham, was one hell of a ride.

The public bus jolted as it hit another pothole. Peter stood strong, holding onto the metal pole for balance (even though he didn’t need to). Much like the city, Gotham’s public transportation was, unsurprisingly, just as chaotic and dangerous.

Karen stood beside him, also gripping the metal pole, and unperturbed by the rough ride. She stared at the ground, looking at the other patrons every once in a while.

Peter tightened his grip every time the bus driver took a turn just a bit too fast.

“This guy drives like he’s running from the cops.” Peter muttered.

Which, yes, he quickly found out that the cops weren’t shit here. Calling them was just as useful as calling the mayor of the city to put funding into fixing the crater-sized potholes on the streets.

*

The school was just as massive as it was the last time Peter and Karen came for the entrance exam. It had gothic architecture with stone gargoyles lining the upper ledges and iron gates that loomed over them as they stepped onto the pristine, carefully landscaped grounds.

Peter adjusted his dress shirt and leaned to Karen to whisper, “This place looks like a villain lair. I feel like we’re walking into a Bond movie.”

Karen scanned the architecture with a simple glance, “The design elements remain consistent with institutions that prioritize exclusivity and legacy. It is meant to be intimidating.” She explained simply and Peter really wished she didn’t look like a 10 year old because what fucking 10 year old just says that?

“Love that for us.” Peter muttered.

They continued their way to the main building. As they got closer, Peter’s Spidey sense hummed steadily and he couldn’t help but feel that it was warning him about the billionaire they were about to have a meeting with.

And speaking of the devil, there standing at the front entrance, waiting for them, stood Bruce Wayne. He wore both a million dollar suit and smile that said he could afford a dentist. It made Peter freeze for half-a-second as he tried to mask his surprise.

“Ok, that’s not creepy at all.” Karen decided not to respond and Peter let out a slow exhale, forcing an easy smile as Bruce made his way to greet them.

Mission ‘Lie to the Billionaire about Our Entire Lives’ was a go.

Bruce’s eyes were sharp and much too observant for Peter’s liking as he watched them come up to the doors of the main building.

“Ben. Elizabeth. It’s an honor to finally meet you too.” He reached out a hand and Peter took it, shaking it as firmly as he could.

“Yeah-uh… Yes. Thank you for meeting with us personally, Mr. Wayne.” Good lord this guy was built. Peter wondered how much more muscle he was hiding underneath that suit. He couldn’t tell, but he guessed that Bruce was probably just a buff as Jason.

Bruce turned to Karen and did the same.

“We both appreciate your generosity.”

He held their handshake for a fraction longer than socially acceptable, Karen noticed.

Bruce was studying her.

Peter tried not to tense his shoulders. Did Bruce already suspect something? There was no way. Karen hadn’t said anything weird! They practiced for days on how she was to respond to certain questions and compliments.

Finally, the billionaire released her hand, a smile still on his face as he gestured towards the entrance doors, “Shall we?”

They followed him inside, stepping through the grand archway that led into the academy’s pristine, waxed floors. They were led into a sleek, modern room that contrasted with the gothic exterior of the school. A long wooden table, perfect for meetings such as this, sat at the center. 

Peter and Karen took their seats across from Bruce, who settled into his own seat. He held the air of someone who was completely in control of whatever situation came to him.

Bruce clasped his hands together on the table and Peter did his best not to give an audible gulp.

“You both have made history with your entrance exam scores. Gotham Academy is home to many students with academic talent, but this school rarely sees students with your level of performance,” Bruce started. He had a glint in his eyes as he continued, “Especially from applicants with no prior elite schooling.”

Peter swallowed, licking his lips. Here we go.

“Yeah, well… my sister and I had a lot of free time to study after school and our guardian, Tony, felt that we’d be better challenged here.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at the name, but quickly fixed his expression, “Ah, yes, Mr. Stark. It's a shame he couldn’t make it. I could tell from his emails that he’s a busy man. He was right to recommend Gotham Academy, he obviously knew you both have bright minds.”

Of course, Peter and Karen didn’t know that Bruce knew that there was no Tony Stark. Oracle was currently losing her mind trying to figure out who it was that was emailing the school, but her trail always came cold.

“He, and the other adults in our lives, prioritized efficiency in education.” Karen added.

Bruce smiled at the young android, but Peter could feel the weight behind his stare. What was it with these blue-eyed men and their analytical stares? First Tim and now Bruce.

“It takes discipline to reach this level of academic performance and I didn’t see any mentions of private tutors or formal training. Did you both happen to study elsewhere before coming to Gotham?”

Ok, that was the question Peter was hoping he wouldn’t get.

“We are largely self-taught. Our circumstances didn’t allow for consistent, traditional schooling but our teachers in past schools proved to be amazing resources along with online resources and public libraries.”

Bruce’s expression didn’t change outwardly, but Peter’s Spidey sense continued to hum, steadfast. Bruce didn’t believe them. 

“Impressive.” He was on to them. “And what brought you guys to Gotham?”

Peter shrugged, “Other family members are too far… Tony was the closest and was willing to take us in…”

Bruce nodded at the vague answer, “Are you both liking it here so far?”

If only Peter could answer honestly but saying ‘No, i fucking hate this city’ wouldn’t be appropriate, so he opted for the socially appropriate answer, “It’s different from New York, a lot rougher.”

The billionaire chuckled, “That’s one way to describe Gotham. What’s been the hardest part of the adjustment for you?”

Peter hesitated, not expecting the question and scrambled to think of the most generic answer, “Uh… the rent?” He answered, half-joking.

He was given a pity chuckle, but Peter noticed how Bruce’s eyes gleamed with a sudden interest, as if he’d been looking for that specific detail from Peter.

“What about you, Elizabeth? What do you think about Gotham and how have you been adjusting?”

Peter nudged her foot lightly, a warning to not answer like she was an AI.

“Gotham has proven to be an unpredictable city with unpredictable people.” She paused, thinking more about the question, “But I’ve been adjusting well thanks to my brother since Tony can’t be with us all the time.”

Ok, that was actually a relatively normal and sweet answer from Karen. Peter resisted the urge to ruffle her hair, knowing that would send her into a robotic rage.

Bruce smiled slightly at the answer, “That’s quite the observation, Elizabeth. I’m glad your brother has done a good job watching after you. Now, I’m sure you’re both ready to hear about the scholarships you’ll be receiving.”

Yes, yes they were ready. Peter wanted to throw up from the nervousness he was experiencing.

“Given your outstanding performances, I’m personally rewarding you both with full-ride tuition and a private stipend of $11,000 for the both of you to cover living expenses like food, transportation and personal needs.”

Peter froze, “Wait-wait-$11,000 per kid? Like we both get $11,000?”

“Yes, Ben. You’ll also get meal cards that are paid in full for the school year. Books and uniforms are paid for as well.”

Had they hit the damn lottery? This was better than Peter had imagined. Too good, in fact, but they couldn’t say no now.

Karen seemed surprised as well, blinking as she processed new calculations, “That is… quite generous.”

Bruce chuckled again, “We invest in talent here and we’re already aware that you two are some of the few students in challenging circumstances that may need additional financial support. The appropriate account will receive a direct deposit each month.”

Peter almost gawked. 

This changed everything.

They’d been doing fine, but Peter had to make some cuts in his life. He’d had to ration food, not eating nearly as good as his body required. But now, now they had financial stability and that meant no more odd jobs or Karen considering morally gray options to get them through the month.

Karen would probably still need to tutor college students online with the 4th identity that Peter begrudgingly allowed her to make, but still. This was a welcomed reward in Peter’s eyes.

“On what conditions?” Karen asked.

Bruce gave her an appraising look, “That you both remain in good academic standing while you represent Gotham Academy.”

That would be easy enough.

“I think we can manage.” Peter finally answered.

Bruce’s gaze didn’t waver between them, “I have no doubt of that.”

The Batcomputer’s screens illuminated Bruce’s face as he stood before them, arms crossed. Footage from his earlier meeting with Ben and Elizabeth Peters played on one of the screens, replaying their initial meeting with the billionaire.

Behind Bruce stood Jason and Dick, who didn’t appear to be taking this as seriously as he wanted them to.

Jason plopped down onto an open space on the Batcomputer’s desk beside Bruce, arms crossed. Dick leaned against the chair Bruce was sitting in, eyeing him with amused suspicion.

Bruce was cornered.

“Well… you’ve got us here. Are you ready to admit you’re trying to adopt Spider-Man and Little Miss Google?” Jason asked.

Bruce didn’t flinch at the accusation, but he did frown, “No, I’m not adopti-”

Dick started talking before he could finish, "You're right, you're not adopting them because that right should belong to me." He inched closer, eyeing Bruce with a knowing look, “I know you’ve noticed, B.” Dick spoke, voice firm, “You know that Ben looks like a me.”

Bruce kept trying, “Yes… I have noticed,” He admitted gruffly, “ But I am not attempting to adopt them.” He argued.

No one seemed to believe him despite his best efforts.

Dick crossed his arms over his chest, “You had Barbara convince them to try for Gotham Academy and then decided to personally fund their education and give them a stipend mere minutes after meeting them? And we’re supposed to believe this isn’t a slow-burn adoption attempt?”

Bruce sighed, long and hard, rubbing his temples, “Ben and Elizabeth’s circumstances warranted financial assistance.”

Jason nodded in faux understanding, “Yes, yes, of course. And it just so happens that one of them is a meta who we know is Spider-Man that looks like Dick and the other is also a meta with enhanced intelligence.”

Dick, still leaned over on Bruce’s chair, crossed his arms, “Let’s not ignore the way you engineered ways to keep them close.” He added, “I thought you’d grown past the secrecy of it all. I’m disappointed you tried to do this under the table.” He didn’t think that Bruce was still ashamed of his compulsions to adopt children, but it appeared that Bruce was still in the denial stage.

Jason nudged Bruce with a teasing smile, “C’mon, I bet you’ve already got their bedrooms figured out.” He laughed when Bruce went silent and wiped away an imaginary tear, “Don’t be upset, B, I’ll even handle the ‘Bruce is emotionally constipated but he cares and he’s working on it’ talk.”

Bruce decided then and there that he’d had enough. He rubbed at his eyes with one hand, “Both of you leave.”

Jason hopped off the desk, stretching casually as he made his way to the stairs, “Whatever. But when Tim and Duke get Ben and Liz to spend the weekends at the manor, just know-we called it.”

Dick didn't leave as quickly, glaring at Bruce, "They're my kids, Bruce. You should've came to me as soon as you noticed Ben's resemblance to me. We'll discuss this later."

Bruce exhaled heavily, watching them leave with a glare. He was starting to regret everything.

*

Bruce couldn’t escape the accusations. Every time he found his kids, they would be discussing him and his ‘compulsions’. He’d tried to find refuge in his office to avoid being bothered, but it was all for naught.

Stephanie damn near launched herself at him when she’d finally found him hiding away in his office. He had tried to subtly hide away the legal guardianship papers on his desk, but he’d moved too slow. Stephanie had seen them as soon as he laid his hands on them.

The smile on her face said it all.

He was getting sloppy.

She laid an arm over his shoulder, eyes closed and shaking her head, “Tsk, tsk, tsk.” She started and Bruce opened his mouth to defend himself, but she refused to let him, “Bruce. Babe. Honey. My guy. My dude. The first step to healing is admitting you have a problem.”

“Don’t tell the others,” He ordered, he didn’t beg. Bruce doesn’t beg for anything. “These are for just in case, Stephanie. I’m not planning on adopting them.”

But Stephanie wasn’t listening. She snatched the papers from beneath Bruce’s hands, spinning away and jumping towards the door, “'Just in case' my ass. I must tell the others.” She concluded, brimming with excitement.

Bruce shot up from his chair, “No.” He ordered, voice firm.

Stephanie remained immune, running for the door and snagging the papers out of his reach when he went for them. 

She laughed, running through the grand halls and to the stairs, “Everyone! I have wondrous news!” She began, flying down the stairs at mach speed, “Bruce has adoption papers for Ben and Liz! I repeat! Bruce has adoption papers! This is not a drill!”

The effect was immediate.

Loud clatter sounded from the kitchen and was followed by rapid footsteps.

Bruce wasn’t even trying to catch up with Stephanie, who was now at the bottom of the stairs. He simply closed his eyes in resignation. 

It was too late for him now.

He heard Tim’s ‘Told you-” from the entrance hall, Duke unsettled ‘You being for real?’ and even Cass’s quiet ‘Called it-’. He could hear Jason’s laughter blooming from the entrance hall and feel Dick's burning glare despite not being able to see him yet. It seemed that they hadn’t left like he’d originally thought.

Just his luck.

Jason took the papers from Stephanie, holding them up to the light and inspecting them with faux seriousness. He whistled, “Yup, these are the real things. Genuine summons for the guardianship petitions of Ben and Elizabeth Peters.”

Dick glared up at Bruce, who was still making his way down the stairs, and frowned, "You just couldn't help yourself, could you?"

Damian grabbed the papers next, skimming through the pages with a disappointed scowl, “Father… Brown and the others said that you had a problem and I tried to defend you only for you to give in to your-your addiction!” Damian was shaking with unbridled rage. The papers crinkled in his hold, he couldn’t believe this.

Tim pointed an accusatory finger at him, “And you’re always on my case about drinking too many energy drinks and coffee! But when will you stop?! You see a meta kid that looks like Dick and you already have adoption papers less than 2 months in?”

“Yeah, it took you like 3-4 months before we got adoption papers… what’s with the speed run?” Duke asked and Bruce wondered why he looked so bothered about the papers.

“He’s relapsing.” Cass supplied, much to Bruce’s dismay.

Bruce decided he didn’t want the papers back. He didn’t feel like facing his kids right now. He turned heel and walked back up the steps and stalked back into his office, ignoring the laughter and the cries from Damian about how he didn’t wish to be a middle child.

The first day of school came faster than Peter had expected.

And with the first day of school came the realization that they had already made names for themselves among teachers and students before ever uttering a word.

The moment he and Karen stepped foot through the gates, he could feel every pair of eyes lock onto them.

Whispers of them being the ‘scholarship kids’, the ‘record breakers’, the ' prodigy siblings’ and even the ‘charity cases’.

Peter resisted the urge to groan. He wasn’t looking forward to being the school’s trending topic but hopefully their popularity would die down within the next two weeks.

Karen strolled alongside Peter, unaffected by the gossip. Peter would even say she looked bored. As they walked past another whispering group, she spoke, “Attention levels are high this morning. There is an 89% probability that another student will challenge us in an attempt to establish social hierarchy. Remain alert.”

Peter gave an amused guffaw, “Don’t say it like that. You make it sound like we’re on the battle grounds and not school.” They reached their lockers, opening them to put their bookbags away.

Karen side-eyed him, “Would you prefer if I used emotional inflection?”

“Forget I said anything, Karen… have fun today, ok? And don’t freak anybody out. Keep a low profile.” Since Karen had been placed in 10th and Peter was in 11th, they didn’t have any of the same classes together. Which meant that Peter couldn’t keep an eye on Karen and while Peter was nervous, he had no choice but to trust that Karen would know better.

“Of course. I will see you at lunch.”

They bid each other goodbyes, closing their lockers and going their ways to their respective classes.

For Karen, her first period was AP Calculus.

She entered the classroom, ignoring the stares she received and the whispers that followed and opting to instead scan the room to assess the seating arrangements. She needed to find the optimal seating for note-taking that also allowed her to keep a low profile.

She moved to choose a free seat, but a familiar voice had her pause.

“Good morning, Elizabeth.” Damian's voice came from behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder, waiting for him to stand beside her, “Good morning, Damian.”

“I take it you’re proficient in mathematics, then?” He already knew the answer. He’d seen her exam answer sheet personally. She was unnaturally good at mathematics, which is why she’d been placed in 10th grade when she looked like she was just getting out of elementary school.

“Yes.” Was all that Karen said.

When Damian chose his seat, Karen sat beside him. 

The bell rang and the math teacher entered the room, closing the door behind them.

“Good morning, class and happy first day of school! My name is Mr. Reynolds,” He introduced, walking to his computer. He gestured to the board at the head of the class, where an advanced calculus equation was written, “We’re going to start with a warm-up question to start off the day. Five minutes.”

A series of groans overtook the classroom before being quickly replaced with the sounds of paper and pencils scribbling frantically.

Unlike the rest of the class, Damian and Karen simply picked up their pencils and solved the problem in silence. They were both done within a minute, but Damian had proclaimed that he finished one second faster.

“As expected.” He smirked over at Elizabeth, raising an eyebrow when she appeared unfazed.

“One second is an insignificant difference.” Karen commented with a shrug.

Damian’s smirk widened, “If it were truly ‘insignificant’ you wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

Karen stared at him for a full two seconds before nodding and turning back to her notes, “I won’t lose next time, then.”

Across the room, students whispered to one another, having seen their interaction.

“This is so going to be a thing.” A student with blonde hair said.

Her friend, who was only half-way watching and trying to complete the warm-up, chanced a glance at Damian and Karen with a confused hum, “What?”

“Little Miss Charity Case is keeping up with Damian Wayne.”

They both watched on in silent horror. A historical event was taking place before their eyes. 

Gotham Academy’s strangest academic rivalry was beginning to bloom.

Peter had barely stepped into his first period physics class when his Spidey sense tingled ever so slightly. Someone had their eyes on him despite his best efforts to not stand out, but he knew that ship had sailed off long ago. He'd sealed his fate when he scored over a 90 on the entrance exam.

"Well if it isn't the Wayne charity case!" A voice drawled from behind him.

Here we go, Peter thought. He turned around to see the owner of the voice.

It was a taller teen with broad shoulders and an expensive type aura to him that said his family would and could sue you into a blackhole. His smug expression did nothing to help his case. "What'd you do to get Wayne to sponsor you, huh?"

Peter shrugged, "I took the exam. Just like everyone else." He answered dryly.

The guy's jaw tensed. It appeared that he didn't appreciate Peter's tone, "You think you're so smart, huh?"

"Given that all my classes are advanced placement, I'd say so."

The guy took a step closer and Peter braced, ready to redirect anything the guy was about to do.

"Wow, Mason, it's literally not even nine o'clock yet and you're already trying to pick a fight?" 

Peter and Mason turned their heads to see Tim Drake with an energy drink in his hands. He still looked tired and Peter guessed the slightly bags under his eyes were a permanent feature of his.

Mason immediately stepped back, much to Peter's surprise, the fakest, friendliest smile on his face, "Drake! Didn't see you there."

"Clearly," Tim huffed, "You know better than to bother him or have the steroids gotten to your head already?" At Mason's sputtering, Tim walked to his seat, gesturing for Peter to take one of the free seats around him. He leaned in when Peter finally sat down, "Don't worry about him, he's mostly bark anyway."

Peter nodded, feeling any tension leave his shoulders.

The next 2 periods went smoothly. He found out he also had 3rd period Literature with Duke and was eternally grateful that they kept most of their conversations to a minimum. He could only handle so much interrogation and Tim seemed to love asking questions that were disguised as someone that wanted to ‘know him as a friend’, but Peter knew better.

Lunch time came around and Peter prayed that he’d be able to have a quiet lunch with Karen. If he was quick enough, he’d be able to choose one of the small tables against the walls of the cafeteria that only had two seats. That way, Tim and Duke wouldn’t be able to ask if they could join them.

Unfortunately, when Peter scanned the room in search of any free tables, his eyes landed on Karen, lunch tray already in hand, talking with Tim and Duke. Duke already had his lunch in his hands as well.

His plans had been foiled.

With a long groan, he trudged over to the table they were hovering near and put on a tired smile, “Hey, guys.” 

Tim and Duke greeted him back, far more at ease than he was.

“We were just asking Liz if you guys would mind if our sister joined us for lunch.”

Peter lifted an eyebrow in question, “You mean Stephanie?” Why would they mind if Stephanie joined? They’d already met her.

Duke shook his head, placing his tray down on the table they were near and Karen did the same, “No, no, Steph graduated last year. Our other actual sister, Cass. She’s been wanting to meet you guys.” 

Peter blinked in surprise. "Oh... Steph's not apart of your family?" How many siblings did these guys have? 

Tim tilted his head, "She's more like a close family friend."

Duke made a sound of agreement, "Can Cass join? Yes or no?"

“I mean… something tells me that my answer doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t,” Tim provided, “We were just asking to be polite. Now let’s go get our lunch, I’m starving. Cass should be here soon.” He dragged an unwilling Peter towards the lunch line.

And then there were two.

Duke was sitting across from Karen, trying his best to act like he wasn’t still uncomfortable around her. I mean, technically, there was no reason for him to feel uncomfortable outwardly, but whenever he saw Karen he’d remember how she had no skeleton.

That coupled with the fact that she has strange mannerisms only added to his discomfort.

But that didn’t mean she was dangerous.

Duke picked at his food, sneaking a glance at her. 

She was also picking at her food, taking a calculated bite here and there.

Eating wasn’t an activity she particularly enjoyed as she only did it to make people comfortable around her. Peter knew this and still fed her every now and then even when she tried to persuade him to keep the food for himself, given his high metabolism.

Duke cleared his throat, trying to casually break the tense silence, “So, uh…” He gestured to her tray, “You like the food?”

She blinked at him, “Sure.”

What the hell kind of answer was that?

“So… you don’t like it?” Duke tried, tilting his head.

Karen shrugged before straightening in her seat slightly, “I like it,” She decided.

Duke forced a friendly smile and tried to go back to eating his food but he watched in absolute terror as Karen slowly and painstakingly pulled back her lips, barring her perfect white teeth at him. 

She looked demonic, to say the least and Duke had never wanted to leap out of his chair like he did right now. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Karen was dangerous. A dangerous, flesh-eating alien with no bones that was now going to eat him at school.

He flinched back, “Uhh… why are you snarling at me?” 

Karen immediately fixed her face, mouth falling back into a thin line, “I wasn’t snarling. I was attempting to reestablish a positive social connection with you by smiling back.” She was sure she’d done a perfect recreation of the human act of smiling.

Duke wasn’t convinced, but found himself slowly recovering now that Karen was contorting her face, “That wasn’t a smile. It looked like you were about to bite my face off.”

Karen’s brow furrowed ever so slightly, “I scared you. I apologize.” It seemed that emotional gestures were far more complex than she’d anticipated despite her practicing. She’d need to do more research.

“Yeah-it’s fine-just… please don’t do it again.” Duke stressed.

Peter and Tim arrived just in time before Duke decided to abort mission. He must’ve still looked disturbed though because Peter took one look at him and then at Karen, giving her an unimpressed look.

“What did you do?” He asked, already tired.

Duke found himself blurting out before Karen could explain, “She smiled at me.”

Peter reeled back at the sheer idea and shook his head, “Smiled? Liz? Liz doesn’t smile. Liz, did you smile?” To be honest, Peter had assumed she couldn’t.

Karen shrugged, “I made an attempt.”

Tim slid into his seat, slowly grinning as he listened to the conversation, “Oh, now this I have to see. Can I get a smile?” He asked innocently.

Karen immediately flashed Tim the same smile she’d blessed Duke with. 

Tim’s smile faltered, a disturbed glint in his eyes as he knitted his eyebrows together, “Wow.” Was all he said in response.

Peter felt his mouth sour, “Liz… please stop doing that and never do it again.”

Karen’s face went neutral and she nodded, going back to her food. 

Everyone slowly followed suit, beginning to eat at the food on their plates. 

“So, what do your parents do, Ben?”

Peter swallowed the bite of his sandwich, a sad glint in his eyes, “We live with a distant cousin… our parents are gone, so it's just us now.” If only Tim knew that it really was just him and Karen now.

He hated how often he was reminded that he wasn’t home. That this isn’t his life. That this is all just a sick game of pretend until he and Karen can begin brainstorming on how to get home.

If he could get home.

Tim seemed to pick up on the shift, noticing Peter’s pain as genuine, “I’m sorry, I shouldn't be so blunt. Let’s change the subject! What do you guys do for fun? Besides going to the library.”

With a short shrug, Peter bit into his sandwich, “Nothing special, just movies and… it’s been a while since I’ve been able to do them, but legos. I enjoy building lego sets.”

Duke lit up at that, “Really? Tim and I were thinking about doing one soon, we just can’t agree on what we should do.”

Peter didn’t want to sound like even more of a nerd, but he spoke anyways, “75275 A-Wing Starfighter is a great set to start with. I built it with my best… friend…” 

Ned.

Karen’s voice brought him out before he could drown, “I personally enjoy counting my steps.”

Tim and Duke both turned to look at her, blinking owlishly. 

Tim squinted quizzingly, “Like a fitness tracker?

“Yes.”

Duke appeared uneasy, “How many steps have you taken today?”

“4,932.”

Peter was beginning to regret this entire plan. Maybe they should just leave… Yeah, they could fake their deaths, skip town and start over in a less crime-riddled city. Except in this one, Peter would just keep Karen stored away in a storage closet because why the fuck would she think to answer Tim’s question like that?

A new presence approached the table silently and Peter felt his spidey sense hum softly, warning him that he’s being watched. Karen noticed seconds after, gaze locking onto the newcomer behind them.

Tim and Duke, noticing the shift in the air, turned to look and smiled, “Hey, Cass.” They both replied easily. Tim gestured to her as she sat down in the seat beside him, “This is our sister Cassandra. Cassandra, this is Liz and Ben.”

Cassandra was small, but her build was compact and athletic, deceptively strong. Despite her quiet presence, that wasn’t what made her intimidating. It was her undeniable sharpness, like a sheathed blade waiting to strike.

Her hair was black, short and slightly messy. Just above her shoulders with a few strands that fell into her face. Her eyes, though intense and aware, were such a deep, dark brown that they almost looked black. She had a barely there smile upon her lips and her posture was relaxed but precise. 

She wasn’t watching them the same way Damian or Tim did. She was reading them. 

She nodded to Peter in silent greeting and he nodded back without thinking.

Karen and Cass held eye contact for exactly 5 seconds before Cass tilted her head, “Nice to meet you.”

Tim and Duke subtly exchanged looks but Peter noticed, his Spidey sense humming a little louder.

What in the ever-loving fuck was going on here?

Karen nodded, “Nice to meet you, Cassandra.”

Cassandra looked conflicted now. Her brow was furrowed, her lips were pressed together and Peter could see a flicker of confusion cross her face.

Tim casted a quick glance to Duke and then back to Cass. How peculiar, he thought. Cass was confused. She hardly ever got confused.

And yet, here she was, tilting her head and eyeing Karen like she was a puzzle with missing pieces.

“You are… not normal.” Cassandra uttered, more so to herself than to everyone at the table, but she was still heard.

Karen gave no reaction to her description, even if she felt it was inaccurate.

Lunch was over with in no time and they all split to go to their respective classes.

Tim walked with Cass and Duke, whispering hurriedly, “What’s the verdict, Cass? Could you read her at all?”

Cass gave a small shrug, keeping her gaze to the floor. Her brows were knitted together in deep thought, “Liz is… hard to read.” Karen gave her no solid reads on how she felt. Cassandra only saw one thing when she looked at the young girl; neutral.

There was no happy, nervous, sad, confident. Just neutral.

Even when Karen ate her food, Cass saw no type of reaction. Karen didn’t like or dislike her food. She just ate it.

And that definitely wasn’t human.

She felt Tim nudge her with his shoulder, “Sooo? You agree with Duke that she’s not human, too?”

A sharp nod and Tim grinned.

That was 4 people now that were on his side about the ‘Liz is an Alien’ theory.

Damian vehemently disagreed with him, Jason seemed neutral about the topic and Dick had scolded him for making fun of a ‘child that was very clearly and obviously on the spectrum’.

Now he just needed to present his proof to Bruce, claim his victory as ‘best detective among the robins’ and finally get some sleep. 

It was the last period of the day; 7th period.

For Karen, she’d been assigned to art class which was also with Damian.

A blank sheet of paper sat on her desk, untouched. The students around her were already sketching away on their sheets, completing the assignment they’d been given.

Create an original piece that expresses something about yourself.

Karen had no problem understanding the instructions she’d been given, but she found that she just couldn’t execute them.

Her mind was essentially a supercomputer of calculations and near-infinite knowledge and yet it offered her nothing.

Her pencil remained in her hand, unmoving and hovering about the paper.

She could replicate any piece of art that came to mind due to her access to centuries of artistic knowledge.

And yet.

Her paper was still blank.

She was faced with an impossible task of creating something from her own mind. Something that wasn’t a duplicate, without reference and no external data.

Beside her, Damian was mid-sketch. His pencil glided over his paper with little trouble. Each stroke was deliberate and precise, forming the beginnings of a beautiful landscape of classically Arabian architecture of a place Karen didn’t recognize.

His skill level was unmatched when compared to the other students, Karen noted once she analyzed his techniques.

“You are proficient.” She commented and Damian smirked.

“Tt, of course I am.”

He stopped drawing, giving his attention to Karen. He’d expected her to show off next and pull out some highly advanced technique that would surely put the rest of the class to shame. Karen had shown that she was nothing short of brilliant in every class they had together on just the first day. So, of course she’d be a master at this as well.

However, Karen merely stared at her blank page, blinking owlishly.

Damian frowned, “We only have so much time to think. Are you going to start or not?”

Karen hesitated, just briefly, but she knew that Damian’s sharp eye caught her. Finally, she began to draw.

Her pencil moved, gliding over the paper with unerring precision.

At first, Damian didn’t think much of it, discreetly watching until he saw the lines coming together. His eyes narrowed slightly as he recognized exactly what she was sketching.

The proportions.

The shading.

The perspective.

Damian clicked his tongue, extremely unimpressed and annoyed, “That’s my drawing.” He quickly hid his sketch with his arm.

“…Yes.” Karen didn’t stop however, completing the drawing where Damian had finished and then looking at the young teen. “I felt that your drawing was the most visually pleasing… it best fits the description of what our teacher asked for.”

“You can’t turn in a copied piece for the assignment, Elizabeth. That’s not the point of the assignment.”

Karen put the copied drawing away, pulling out a fresh sheet and immediately found herself stuck again. 

She tried to consider the concept of self-expression and apply it to herself.

So she took her pencil to her paper and drew a single straight line across the center of her paper.

Damian watched with stilted breath and frowned when Karen set her pencil down.

The teacher, Ms. Alva, made her rounds, stopping at Karen’s desk. She pursed her red lips, biting them timidly as she studied Karen’s line, “Ms. Peters… is that supposed to be your final piece?”

Karen looked at her perfect line and then back at her teacher, “Yes.”

Ms. Alva nodded slowly, unsure, “Ok… could you explain how this drawing represents you?”

With a nod, Karen explained, “I like to function in absolutes. Lines are the purest representation of efficiency. They have no curvatures and are made with no wasted motion. I relate to such precision.” She kept her hands folded in her lap, blinking, “However, a line is not without it’s limits. They lack abstract expression, something I struggle with, which is why I am reduced to this artistic expression.”

Ms. Alva crossed her arms with an understanding hum, “So… the line is you?”

“Yes.”

Numerous students in the classroom had stopped working, overhearing Karen’s explanation. Most of them exchanged confused glances while others, surprisingly, looked impressed.

“That’s kinda deep…” One student uttered.

“Yeah, I just drew a cheesecake because I like dessert…”

Ms. Alva sighed, massaging her temples, “Ok… thank you, Elizabeth. That was an… invigorating description,” She said before moving on to the next student.

Karen made eye contact with Damian, noting that his upper lip was curled in disgust and that his disgust was directed at her.

“Tt. That was disappointing.” He scoffed under his breath, going back to his sketch.

Karen got the sneaking suspicion that she’d just lost the challenge.

And losing was not a feeling she much enjoyed.

Peter had barely gotten his shoes off at the door before Karen was standing directly in front of him, hazel eyes staring into his soul. “Peter, I have discovered a fatal flaw in my design.” Karen started as soon as they’d gotten home.

Peter flopped onto their bed face first, now equipped with a sturdy frame, “And what’s that?”

“I am incapable of originality and cannot draw.”

He rolled to face the ceiling, “Huh?”

I can’t draw.” Karen repeated, dead serious.

He rubbed a hand down his face, “Karen… since when do you care about drawing?”

A small shrug, “Since it was assigned to me.”

With a snort, Peter slowly sat up with a small smile, “Yeah, join the club. I suck at drawing too. When I was in fifth grade, I tried to draw a dog and it somehow looked like a deformed table with a face on it.”

Karen didn’t look comforted, squinting lightly at Peter, “That is a failure of motor control, not cognitive function.”

Peter frowned, “Wow, rude. That was a really personal memory that I just shared with you.” 

“I’d appreciate it if we focused on the main problem here, Peter.” Karen’s fingers were curled slightly, “I can replicate any artwork no matter the artstyle with 99.9% accuracy… but I can’t create something that doesn’t exist. I am… incapable of producing original work.”

Peter tried to hold it in, he really did. But he couldn’t do it.

He fell back into the bed, laughing heartily. Karen, an artificial intelligence made by one of the smartest men he knew, was having an existential crisis over art class. This entire situation was just the cherry on top of his fucked up sundae.

Karen narrowed her eyes, hands balled into fists, “It is not funny, Peter.”

He continued to giggle, clutching his chest in mocking dramatics, “My poor forgery machine sister. How will she survive in this cruel world?”

“You are being unhelpful.”

Once his laughing died down, Peter wiped at his face, “Karen, it’s fine. You can’t be good at everything . And besides, drawing is just one of the things you're bad at. It’s not something to get upset over.”

“But my inability to generate creative thought suggests a fundamental flaw in my design, Peter.”

He gave a loud yawn and shrugged, “Welp, I guess you won’t be getting into art school anytime soon.”

Karen paused, “That was never the plan.”

“I didn’t think so,” Peter responded, closing his eyes. He could really use a nap right now. “Look, you’re an AI. You’re constantly learning and analyzing. If you want to get better at drawing then stop thinking so hard and just start doodling until something sticks.”

The young android didn’t respond to the advice, merely glancing back at her blank sketchbook on their dining room table.

* 

Peter had been so close to sleep, sprawled comfortably across his bed.

Unfortunately, he sensed Karen’s presence above him and flinched when a sketchbook was shoved into his face.

“Is this doodle acceptable?” Karen asked, her tone serious and holding no room for joking.

Blinking away as much sleep as he could, Peter looked at the drawing and blinked at what he saw.

It was an unsettlingly perfect mess of symmetry, full of geometric patterns that spiraled outwards with skilled precision. The lines were flawless and each segment perfectly mirrored the other.

Peter wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be looking at. 

“Huh.”

“Assessment?” Karen asked, watching him closely.

“It’s…” Peter silently scrambled for words, “something… It also looks like something a robot would draw, but like, an evil robot.”

Karen brought the sketchbook away from his face, studying her own work, “I attempted to deviate from the rigid structure but… that proves to be difficult.”

Peter sat up, leaning over to stare at her drawing again, “Wait, you can’t draw something messy?”

She nodded, flipping to a blank page in the book. She took her pencil and deliberately drew a wobbly line. However, the line, despite the curves, remained symmetrical. If you measured the height and length of the curves within the line it would likely be the exact same.

“Art is frustrating.” Karen concluded, moving to put the book away. She needed it out of her sight.

Peter grinned tiredly, ruffling her hair, “Yeah, but I’m sure if you continue to practice, you’ll get it soon.”

Karen didn't want to doubt him, but even she wasn't sure if she'd be able to master such a talent the same way Damian did.

But if she wanted to win, she'd need to achieve the impossible.

Chapter Text

Beneath Wayne Manor in the Batcave, Bruce stood before two of his sons with his arms crossed. He locked his hard gaze on them, his expression brimming with deep disappointment and concern. The only sounds that could be heard was the soft hum of the Batcomputer as it processed data and the bats screeching every now and then.

Tim kept his own gaze strong and steady. He’d seen Bruce in this mode before. He was calculating, waiting for him and Duke to speak first. He wanted them to explain themselves before he said anything.

Duke, on the other hand, looked vaguely uncomfortable. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, eyes shifting between Tim and Bruce. 

He’d screwed up big time.

He’d slipped up and ended up having to tell Bruce the truth about Karen not being human.

Bruce had told him that he’d speak to him later in the night, when everyone else was on patrol. But now that Duke was here, standing before Bruce, he wasn’t sure how this was going to go.

“You both knew,” Bruce finally said, voice low and even, “You both were aware from the moment you met Elizabeth, that she wasn’t human… and you both neglected to tell me.”

Tim let out a quiet sigh, blue eyes looking into Bruce’s, “We withheld the information from you because you would have told us to abort the mission.” His voice held a steady fire in it. His tone demanded that Bruce listen to him. “They aren’t dangerous, Bruce-”

“You don’t know that, Tim.” Bruce interrupted sharply. “Elizabeth being meta was one thing but if she’s an alien, that brings about a whole different problem. Especially if she’s a race we haven’t had prior contact with.” They wouldn’t know what she was until they did a DNA test. And even then, if they were truly from the future like Bruce and the other's had theorized, she might not even come up on the DNA test since they really wouldn't've had contact with her species until at least a decade or two into the future.

Duke winced at that, “Look, B, we thought we were doing the right thing. They’ve both obviously been through a lot… and if they really were dangerous, one of them would’ve done something by now to raise any red flags, right?”

Bruce turned back to the Batcomputer, pulling up the latest surveillance footage of Peter and Karen at Gotham Academy, “Elizabeth may not be dangerous but whatever or whoever sent her and Ben here might come looking for her. You two neglecting to tell me about her true identity was a serious mistake that could cause a serious breach of safety. Especially when we don't know what we're dealing with since it involves time travel. That means we're potentially dealing with enemies we haven't met before."

Tim and Duke exchanged glances, cursing under their breaths.

Bruce, as usual, was right.

They didn’t know where Karen and Peter were originally from and that was a concern. Just because they weren’t doing anything strange didn’t mean that nothing was going on.

They’d gotten too comfortable.

Bruce turned back to them, exhaling through his nose, “From now on, no more secrets. Everything you find out about them needs to be reported to me as soon as possible… If we’re going to help Ben and Elizabeth, we need to know everything. Understood?” It was obvious to Bruce that the two were obviously trying to lay low. They were hiding from something.

They both nodded.

“Both your access to higher-level data has been cut for the time being.” Bruce ignored Tim’s groan, “Go to bed, now.”

Duke let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

That wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought it would be.

Peter and Damian didn’t get along at first.

There was an air of distrust hung in the air between them and Peter found himself feeling like an intruder. Which was strange because how would Damian know that Peter didn’t belong here? And even if he didn’t, why was Damian giving him such an attitude about it?

Barbara had warned him that Damian wasn’t the most trusting person and Peter respected that. He wasn’t either. And he really couldn’t blame Damian seeing as he lived in the most crime-riddled city in America.

But now that it’s been more than 2 months since they’d been in Gotham and it was nearing the end of August, Peter could tell that Damian was finally starting to calm down. He actually called him ‘Ben’ sometimes instead of ‘Peters’.

That, and Damian had invited them both to the arcade. Not just Karen, Peter too.

Which is why they were now standing outside of a popular arcade within Gotham, the Grid Arcade.

Peter could already hear the noise-blaring game music from inside.

They stepped inside, taking in the bright, flashing neon lights and the clusters of teenagers  huddled around different games throughout the building. Shouted victories and groans of defeat sounded over the scrambled game music. Peter was so glad he’d brought himself some earplugs to wear, the sounds would’ve been too overstimulating otherwise.

Karen was immediately analyzing her surroundings, scanning each and every machine. She could see the very codes of every single game right down to the single digit and even found herself checking the highest scores. Anything that could be analyzed, was being analyzed.

A familiar voice called out to them above the noise, “You’re late.”

Damian stood near the entrance, arms crossed over his chest. He was clearly unimpressed by their untimeliness.

“Give us a break, not everyone has a personal driver.” Peter said lightly.

“Yeah, Damian, give them a break.” Another voice pitched in and Peter felt his Spidey sense hum lowly. He knew that voice.

Three figures sauntered to stand near Damian and Peter felt his mind pause.

Wait…

“What’re you guys doing here?!” Peter asked, shocked to see Tim, Steph and Cass.

“Trust me, I didn’t want them here either.” Damian huffed, annoyance clear in his stance.

Tim ruffled his hair with a smile, “Don’t be like that, Damian. This will strengthen our sibling bond tenfold!”

Damian only clicked his tongue in response while Peter felt like he was getting shot.

He pointed at the group before him, eyes shifting to each one, “You guys are siblings?!” How the hell had he missed that? 

Steph raised a finger, “I’m more of a family friend, but yeah, they’re siblings.” She confirmed, looking at something on her phone. “Did you not know? Everyone at school knows.” Peter had been so focused on laying low that he failed to keep up with the well-known drama of Gotham Academy.

“Even Duke?” He asked.

“Yup.” Tim said, “He was mad he couldn’t come but he told me to tell you he says ‘Hi’.”

Damian frowned at Peter, “How did you not know? I didn’t take you for one to be slow on the uptake.”

Peter didn’t have an answer and looked at Karen, “Did you know?”

“Of course.” 

“What? Why did you tell me?”

“The information wasn’t relevant.”

Peter was going to kill Karen one day.

But for now, he wanted to play. He hadn’t been to an arcade since he’d been dropkicked into this godforsaken dimension, you bet your ass he was going to play like it was his last day on Earth.

He could question Karen later.

“Let’s just get our coins.” He was about to go to the coin booth but Cass held out a small cup packed to the brim with arcade coins that had a small ‘The Grid’ logo imprinted on them.

“For you,” She said, with a small smile, handing Karen another cup, “To play.”

Peter was about to decline but Steph moved first, dragging them deeper into the arcade, “What’re we playing first? I vote to play Mario Kart!”

There were only 4 Mario Kart machines and when Peter turned to figure out who would go first, he saw that Karen was already walking away with Damian.

“Have you ever played Mortal Kombat, Elizabeth?” Damian asked.

“I have not.”

Damian smirked smugly, “My siblings have yet to beat me. We shall play.”

“Ok.”

*

Damian wasn’t one to call himself a sore loser.

Losing sucked.

Losing was for weaklings. For those that lacked discipline. For fools that didn’t train properly.

Damian Wayne was none of those.

And yet. 

Here he was.

At the Grid.

Losing.

Repeatedly.

To Karen.

Despite her saying that she’d never played, her hands moved professionally on the arcade controls. 

She was annihilating Damian and his anger grew with every flawless victory and perfect combo.

And to add salt to the wound, now his siblings and Peter were watching.

Needless to say, Damian was seething.

“Flawless Victory” The announcer called.

Damian gritted his teeth, gripping his joystick tighter. Karen took her hands off the controls but paused when Damian spoke, “Again.”

Peter stood off to the side, shaking his head as he watched in amusement. He stifled a laugh when Damian was defeated for the sixth time in a row.

Stephanie was recording on her phone, barely holding back her giggles, “Man, he is going to go crazy during training later tonight.” She mused.

Peter lifted an eyebrow at that, “Training?” He asked, glancing over at the blonde.

She blinked at his question and straightened ever so slightly, realizing that she’d said something wrong, “Yeah-for training! Damian is learning some martial arts right now-that’s what I meant,” She corrected, breathing a sigh of quiet relief when Peter halfheartedly took the bait.

Tim watched on, enjoying the show with a grin. He leaned over to Peter in a hushed tone, “I’ve never seen anyone make him this mad. Liz is destroying him.”

Peter nodded, “She’s not even trying to get under his skin.” He hadn’t realized that Karen would be such a pro at video games. 

Cass hummed in agreement, studying Karen’s movement as the next round began.

Karen’s movements were fluid and calculated. She countered every attack Damian tried, dodged every special move he dished out and ended the match with another flawless victory. She even got the fatalities so perfect that she didn’t have to look down at the controls.

The screen flashed as Karen’s character bloodily obliterated Damian’s, the announcer’s voice blaring through the arcade speakers, “FATALITY!”

It was eerily silent.

Damian’s eye twitched.

Everyone held their tongues, knowing better than to say anything.

Karen, as usual, was unfazed, even when faced with a seething Damian.

Damian’s voice came out low and controlled, “Again.”

Peter nudged Tim, “Should we tell him to quit while he’s ahead?” He was sure that Damian was inches from bursting into flames. Or tears.

Tim chuckled at Peter, “He’s not ahead.”

Cass hummed in agreement, “But he should quit.”

Stephanie quickly disagreed, phone still recording, “No, no! This is gold!”

The next match started but it was obvious to everyone that Karen had slowed down.

Her movements were still precise, but she was clearly hesitating before attacking and giving Damian more time. She was holding back.

And Damian immediately noticed.

“Elizabeth.” Damian hissed, green eyes glaring daggers into her.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

Karen turned her head to look at him, hands still hovering over the controls, “I’m adjusting the difficulty.” Peter choked on his own laughter.

Damian’s face darkened, “I’m not truly winning if you stunt yourself to save my feelings. Stop holding back and fight me!” He growled. 

Karen raised an eyebrow, looking back at the screen, “You were growing increasingly frustrated, I was only adjusting accordingly.” She explained simply.

“Do not patronize me, Elizabeth!” He snapped.

Karen blinked, “That wasn’t my intention, Damian.”

“Then play properly!” He bit.

And with that, their Mortal Kombat tournament went on. Damian was impressed by Karen’s skill, but he had to admit it frustrated him when he couldn’t defeat her no matter how much he tried.

After the 8th round, Karen had decided she’d had enough and Damian had to agree before he blew a blood vessel. He already knew that Tim and Stephanie would use this against him and he didn’t want to give them more ammo.

“What do you want to play next?” Karen asked him, tilting her head.

Damian shrugged, “You pick.”

Tim answered for her, “Let’s use the last of our coins for the luck-based machines! If we all pitch in, we’re bound to win something.”

“Ugh, fine, but if we don’t win anything, you have to buy all of us more coins.” Steph demanded and Tim hastily agreed, running off to the machines.

Peter wasn’t the biggest fan of luck-based machines. Everyone knew they were rigged to only work after a set number of uses. He went to a spin-the-wheel game, inserted his coins and gave it a firm spin. The wheel almost landed on the 500 ticket bar but Peter only came out with 10 tickets.

He went to try again, as the game only required 2 coins, and gasped in surprise when he won.

The machine blared its lights in celebration, announcing loudly that he’d hit the jackpot.

“Huh… today must be my lucky day!” Peter smiled, moving onto the next machine. He knew that this was part of the appeal, but he didn’t pay for these coins so this was technically free for him and that meant he could go buckwild.

And whatever lucky streak Peter was on stayed strong. Each machine granted him with the lottery amount and Peter had to wonder where all this luck suddenly came from. He glanced around the area, seeing how everyone else was fairing. 

Stephanie cheered somewhere in the distance at another machine. Damian was standing near Karen, hands amazingly filled with tickets. Even Cass was holding her own stuffed animal in one hand and a thick bundle of tickets in the other.

Tim came up beside him, all smiles and holding 4 stuffed animals, “I’ve never won at a claw machine before.”

Peter stared at the stuffed animals and squinted at the pale teen, “Did you pay the workers to un-rig the games or something?” He asked.

Tim scoffed, clearly offended, “No. And if I did, why would the worker be freaking out?” He pointed out, gesturing over his shoulder to the workers at the prize counter.

Anyone with eyes could see that they were freaking out. One of the workers was on his phone, hurriedly speaking into it while eyeing them with a confused look. Other kids were tailing behind Peter and the others, playing the same machines they had and winning with few tries.

The arcade was no longer filled with a mix of groans and cheers. Only excitable cheers filled the air.

And now Peter knew something was up. 

He looked at Karen, who’d barely played any games and frowned. He pulled her aside, using the excuse that she needed to use the bathroom and gave her an unimpressed look when they were finally alone in the family bathroom.

“Karen.”

“Yes?”

“What did you do?”

“Clarify?”

Peter squinted at her suspiciously, showing her the bundles of tickets in his possession, “It’s quite sus that we’re winning at everything, don’t you think? These machines are programmed to rob people blind. So, why are we suddenly the luckiest people alive?”

Karen shrugged up at him, “Maybe you are just that skilled.”

“Bullshit.” Peter spat. They both knew you couldn't be skilled at luck-based games. “Now, spill. What did you do to the machines?”

“… I corrected them.” Karen admitted, her tone even. 

Peter could feel his eye twitching. He couldn’t get a moment of peace with Karen and she had been designed to help him. 

“Karen, that’s cheating!” He hissed and Karen frowned at that.

“How so? The machines were already manipulating probability. I merely adjusted them to restore balance.”

Dragging a heavy, ticket-loaded hand down his face, Peter let out an irritated groan, “I alone have like 10 pounds of tickets in my hands! How is that balanced, Karen?”

For once, Karen didn’t have an answer and only blinked up at him with a blank expression.

Peter groaned again, “It’s over! We’re gonna get kicked out of this place. I’m gonna be banned from the Grid and it’ll be all your fault!” He grumbled.

To his shock, Karen rolled her eyes and he just knew that she’d learned that from Damian, “You are overreacting.”

Peter pointed a finger in her face, “You hacked an entire arcade! Did you see the workers panicking? You’ve disrupted the organized chaos of the Grid!”

Karen squinted back at him, “There was no organized chaos. The Grid uses an artificial system that is designed to take money in exchange for minimal reward. It's no different than gambling.” 

“Uh-huh and what would you call this?”

When Karen gave him no response he merely sighed, shoulders slumped, “Just-just stop before they get too suspicious.”

With a simple nod, Karen blinked and gave a needless sigh, “It is done.”

They returned from their ‘bathroom break’ to find Stephanie, Damian and Cass all stacking their tickets onto the prize counter. Tim was standing nearby, even more stuffed animals in his arms. It looked like he'd squeezed in a few more wins before Peter had forced Karen to re-rig all the machines.

The teen working the counter looked like they were dreading every moment of this momentous event. They gawked at the absurd amount of tickets and then at Stephanie, “Are you sure this is all yours?” He asked.

“Yup! Won them fair and square!” 

While the employee had the tickets counted in their ticket counter, the manager arrived from the back. He was a tall, exhausted looking man with slightly unkempt hair shoved underneath a black cap and a name tag that read ‘Percy’. His arms were crossed as he stepped up to the prize counter, staring down each one of them.

“Alright,” He sighed, voice thick with ‘I’m so done with this shit’, “Who’s been messing with the machines?”

None of them made any moves to look at each other, only staring at Percy with owlish blinks of their own.

“Uh… no one? We were just lucky, man.” Tim countered, he’d cross his arms but they were full of stuffed animals, “It’s not our fault the machines decided to not be rigged anymore when we got here. And besides, if we did mess with the machines, you would’ve seen us.” Which was a great point. Since the machines were older models, they would’ve had to manually go into the machines and default the settings.

Stephanie nodded at that, “Yeah! We wouldn’t have been able to get into all the machines at the same time.”

Percy seemed to understand that he couldn’t straight out accuse them of messing with the machines even though he knew something had happened since the machines started acting weird as soon as they came and only just now fixed themselves.

He also didn’t get paid enough for this shit.

“All of you are banned.”

“WHAT?!”

Damian scowled, “We didn’t do anything! I just wanted to take my friend-I mean-Elizabeth-out to have fun!” Was that a pout on his face?

Cass held out a hand to stop any other complaints from leaving the group and stepped forward, getting as close as she could to Percy from across the prize counter. She leaned in close, staring him down, “We’ll be back.” She promised.

Percy visibly shivered, “Uh… just-just get your prizes.” He demanded quickly, scurrying off to the back.

*

Cheap prizes and candy in hand, the Bat group left with Peter and Karen by their side. A beat of silence passed through them as they stood outside, contemplating what had just happened to them.

“I can’t believe we got banned.” Peter moaned, “I actually liked that place.”

“Yeah, can’t say that’s ever happened to us before. This is a new low.” Tim commented dryly.

Steph shrugged, “I’m sure Bruce will call them and pay them to let us back in if we ask.”

“No.” Peter hissed, “he’s already finding our schooling and giving us money, please don’t let him throw more money at us. This whole situation is already weird enough.”

“That wasn’t even our fault!” Damian argued, still fuming.

“There are more arcades in Gotham.” Karen added but that didn't seem to make Damian feel any better.

Peter felt his stomach growl and sighed, “Well, I guess it's time for us to head home-“

“Let’s go to BatBurger!” Tim blurted out.

At the following silence, he quickly backtracked, “Our brother just invited us to join him at BatBurger, he said you guys were free to join! His treat!” If Tim knew anything it was that people rarely said no to free food. And he knew that Peter was definitely a foodie, he’d seen his lunch plates.

Peter blinked, “Oh-uh… that’s nice and all but… we don’t have a ride…”

Stephanie jumped in, “It’s just around the corner from here. No driving required.”

And just like what happened in the arcade, Peter didn’t get to give an answer because he was dragged along the sidewalk, forced to follow his friends to the ‘most iconic burger restaurant in Gotham’.

Just as Stephanie had said, it was only a short walk away from the Grid.

When they walked inside, Peter was hit with a plethora of colors, the smell of fried food and grilled meat.

The chairs and booths inside were either yellow, purple, red, or blue while the tables were black.

Insignias of Batman and his Robins were everywhere that they could be put, the walls, the trash cans, the counters, the floor tiles.

Peter wondered if people would ever get this crazy in his dimension, because he prayed they wouldn’t. He’d hate to be a subway sandwich.

“Hey, guys! Over here!” A male voice called out and Peter searched for the origin of the voice. 

His heart froze.

It was that fucker from the library, the one that was wearing his father’s face.

A younger version, Peter noticed, but the resemblance was uncanny. The same warm eyes, the same messy dark hair and even the same charismatic demeanor. 

No one seemed to mind Peter as they each slid into the booth.

Karen took a seat across from Damian and Peter continued to awkwardly stare at the older man as if he’d seen a ghost.

Damian frowned, looking Peter up and down, “Do you wish to sit or are you going to keep gawking?” 

Peter snapped out of it, an uneasy smile making its way to his lips, “Yeah-uh-sorry,” He slipped into the booth beside Karen, “Your brother just… reminded me of someone…”

The older man smiled, “No worries, my name is Richard but you can call me Dick. Tim and Damian have told me a lot about you guys.” 

Karen tilted her at the introduction, “Dick? Is that not a slang term for a pen-”

“Okay!” Dick cut in, clapping his hands together with a laugh, “We don’t need to finish that sentence.” He notably looked at all the toys and candy in each of their hands and lifted an eyebrow, “Looks like you guys won the lottery.”

Peter laughed nervously, looking down at the menu to keep himself from looking at Dick. If he stared too long, he’d start remembering things he didn’t want to.

“Don’t worry about the cost of anything, please,” Dick eased, “Damian told me you both passed your entrance exams for Gotham Academy. That’s quite the accomplishment and I wanted to reward you two.”

Karen nodded along, “Thank you, Dick. My brother and I appreciate it.”

Cass watched Peter for a moment, “You okay?” She asked him in that soft, quiet tone of hers and he nodded quickly, swallowing back the lump in his throat.

“I’m great! The BatBurger meal is right up my alley.” He said, avoiding eye contact with Cass. He knew that she knew he was lying.

He wasn’t ok.

But he couldn’t run despite his body telling him to.

Dick tore his gaze away from Peter, a fist clenching under the table. Shit, he must’ve brought up some horrible memories for Peter. That was the last thing he wanted to do. He just wanted a chance to meet him, like everyone else. He should’ve been more meticulous about their meeting and listened to his initial instinct to try and meet Peter as Nightwing.

He turned his attention to Karen, smiling down at the girl, “So, Elizabeth, what are you thinking about getting?”

Karen scanned her own menu, “I will try the Red Robin wrap.” She said, placing her menu back down on the table.

“Ahh,” Dick vocalized, “A solid choice. The wraps here are pretty good.”

Their waitress came to the table shortly after, handing Karen a coloring sheet and crayons. She made quick work of taking everyone’s orders, took back the menus and left.

Now Peter didn’t have anything to use as an appropriate distraction. Tim and the others seemed to be too invested in their own conversation and Peter knew that pulling out his phone would be too impolite, but he was starting to decide that he didn’t care if that meant that his father’s alternate wouldn’t talk to him.

Said alternate took the chance to speak, however, when Peter accidentally let his eyes shift to him. That soft smile was back in a flash, “So, Ben, I know you’ve probably been asked this a thousand times, but what do you think of Gotham so far? Dami told me you two were from New York.”

A stiff shrug and Peter tried to sound casual, but his voice was strained, “Uh-well-its… you know! Dark and crime-riddled… but it has charm.”

Dick nodded in earnest, taking in everything Peter told him and chuckled, “Yeah, that’s Gotham for you!” He looked back at Karen, “What about you, Elizabeth? Do you like it here?”

Karen was currently finishing a maze puzzle on her coloring sheet, she didn’t look up at Dick as she answered, “It’s rough sometimes, but Ben and I help each other. That makes things easier.”

Dick’s eyes softened at that and Peter wanted to throw up. The waitress came back, giving them their drink orders. “Aww, that’s so sweet. I’m glad you two have each other.” His soft blue eyes shifted between the two before settling back on Karen, “Is Ben a good big brother?”

The young android finished the last puzzle on her sheet with alarming speed as she took in the question. If anything, she felt like she took care of Peter more than he took care of her but as she thought back to every single memory since she first woke up, she quickly realized that wasn’t necessarily factual.

“Ben… Ben is an extraordinary sibling,” Karen started, snapping Peter out of his daze, “He combs my hair. He picks out my outfits. He gives me food off his plate even when I don’t ask for it…” Even though she doesn’t need to eat is what she really wanted to say. “He ensures my safety and comfortability just as much as I do for him. I am… grateful to have Ben as my sibling.”

The table was quiet when Karen finished. Peter sank low into his seat, feeling his face heat up.

Tim, who’d been drinking a chocolate milkshake, paused mid-sip. Stephanie was cooing underneath her hand. Cass was leaned forward, clearly intrigued and Damian looked a little embarrassed himself, but that didn’t surprise Peter. Damian looked a little emotionally constipated. 

Dick gave the biggest reaction.

Peter watched on in stilted horror as his entire face lit up. He clutched his chest, absolutely beaming, “Awwww, that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard!”

Peter wished he could sink under the table and become the hard gum stuck underneath.

“Yeah, I didn’t even think that Liz could say something so nice.” Tim added and Peter groaned.

“Liz, why would you say that?” Peter asked rhetorically, rubbing his forehead.

With a small shrug, Karen turned her head to look at Peter, “Because it’s true.”

Hand still clutching his chest, Dick’s smile grew a bit mischievous, “What about Damian? Is he a good friend?” Peter could tell that Damian had kicked Dick underneath the table by the way it haphazardly shifted, but the older man gave no real reaction and only seemed to smile wider.

“Damian is a good friend. He does not condescend like others do at school and treats me as an equal because he doesn’t doubt my abilities. I push him and he pushes me in ways I didn’t know were possible… I value Damian.” Karen felt surprised by her own answers, even if she didn’t show it. If you’d asked her a month ago, her answers would’ve been purely analytical but it seemed that she’d been adopting human emotions as time went by.

A beat of silence sat over the table once again and everyone’s eyes were on Damian, whose ears were beginning to turn bright red.

The young teen cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his seat, “Tt. It’s only natural that Elizabeth recognizes my superiority.”

Dick gave him a scolding look, “Don’t mind him, Liz, that’s just Dami’s way of saying thank you.” Dick explained, making sure that Karen wasn’t upset by Damian’s response. “But that was a very sweet answer, too. I’m glad you and Damian are friends.”

Stephanie leaned down to whisper to Karen beside her, “He’s definitely going to write about this in his journal. You probably just made his day.”

Karen only nodded at Stephanie, watching as Damian’s ears continued to stay red. She tilted her head, “You are uncomfortable with verbal affirmation.”

Damian scowled at that, “No, I’m not.”

Karen didn’t flinch, “You are.”

The table broke into laughter and Peter could feel himself relaxing as the night went on in the diner. 

Soon enough, they received their food. And if Peter had to be honest, it wasn’t the best thing ever, but the food was good. He even ordered a chocolate milkshake for himself and a strawberry milkshake for Karen to drink on the way home.

When the bill was given, Dick grabbed it before Peter could even look at the price, so he opted for looking out the windows.

He did a double take at the windows and gasped when he saw how dark it was outside. 

He shot out of his seat, pulling out his phone to look at the time to confirm his suspicions, “Shit! It's late!” He groaned, “We definitely missed the last bus.” The buses in Gotham never ran late. It was simply too dangerous for them to run past 8 PM. And it was definitely too dangerous for him to walk home with Karen, even if they did live in a somewhat nicer part of Gotham.

There were traffickers galore in Gotham and though he was sure he could escape with ease, having Karen there made things a lot harder for him.

While Peter lamented, Tim, Steph and Cass all turned to look at Dick expectantly, pointing their eyes at Peter, Karen and then at him.

Dick cleared his throat, “I can drive you guys home.”

“No but thank you, Mr-“

“I will not allow you guys to walk home alone.” Dick said, voice surprisingly firm. 

Peter glanced at the others, “But… how will you guys get home? Didn’t Dick drive you here?” He asked.

Stephanie nodded, “He did, but we can just call Alfred to come pick us up. We’d be home faster than if we waited for Dick to drop you guys off and come back to pick us up.”

Tim nodded along, “Yeah, it's not a big deal.”

Cass handed him her phone, it was on the new contact page, “Text when you’re home.”

Peter hesitantly put his number in and Cass saved it when she got her phone back, looking quite proud of herself.

Once the bill was paid, Dick picked up his keys, looking at Karen and Peter, “You guys ready?” 

Karen scooted out of her seat after Peter.

*

The ride was tense and awkward.

Peter guessed that Dick had noticed how uncomfortable he was and was trying to keep conversation to a minimum with him, just like he had in the restaurant.

Thankfully, Karen seemed to be up to talking.

“So, Lizzie, what’d you think of BatBurger? Pretty top-tier, am I right?” He asked casually.

Karen kept her gaze out the window, watching the lights of the city blur past, “The thematic branding was excessive and it was no different from any other burger restaurant.”

Dick gave a dramatic gasp, “Excuse you? BatBurger is a one-of-a-kind Gotham experience!” He said in mock offense. “And the excessive branding is what makes it fun!”

Karen blinked at that, raising an eyebrow, “Forced branding integration does not improve food quality.” She sounded slightly offended that Dick would even joke that such a thing could make food taste better.

Peter frowned at her tone and sighed, “Liz, please just let people enjoy things, even if it doesn’t make sense to you.” He muttered.

Dick only laughed, however, thoroughly amused by Karen, “No, no. I like the way she thinks! Very analytical and straight forward. I usually have to dig answers out of Dami.”

Peter didn’t have trouble believing that.

Damian usually kept their conversations short, too. He seemed to only be interested in Karen, which Peter didn’t mind too much. Damian had obviously taken a liking to her and Peter enjoyed seeing Karen act somewhat like a child when she was with Damian.

As Dick continued to drive, he glanced at the rear view mirror, noticing that Karen was watching him with those captivating hazel eyes of hers.

She wasn’t just looking at him though, she was studying him. Scanning him, his face, his everything.

It reminded him of Cass in a way.

“Do I have something on my face?” He asked.

“No.”

She continued to stare and Dick raised an eyebrow, amused by the way she continued to scan his face. Her brows furrowed ever so slightly before she chanced a glance at Peter and then back at him.

“What?” He asked, when she began to blink rapidly.

“… Nothing.” She lied smoothly, keeping her eyes on her window to study the night sky.

“Really? That didn’t look like nothing. You don’t want to share with the class what you found?”

“No.” Came Karen’s short, monotone reply.

Dick held back a laugh, pulling over beside an old apartment complex, “Alright, here’s home!”

Peter practically sprang out the car, almost forgetting to wait for Karen. He felt like he was going to throw up if he stayed in that car any longer.

Karen waved goodbye, which Dick returned happily. He only left once he saw them enter the building.

Like usual, Peter flopped onto their bed once they made it inside while Karen locked the door. “God, that was agonizing!” He moaned into his pillow.

Karen sat down on her side of the bed, removing her headband, “Your cortisol levels were heightened for the duration of our time with Dick Grayson. Achieving adequate rest will do you well for the night to decrease your levels.”

Peter hummed in agreement, pulling out his phone so he could text Cassandra that they’d made it home for the night. He went to press the send icon before his Spidey sense flared.

Hard.

His finger froze over the icon and his stomach twisted as a wave of sharp, electrifying warning pulsed through him.

Danger . Close. Door . Watch. Avoid .

He whipped his head to the window right next to their bed, scanning the street below for anything out of the ordinary.

Nothing.

Peter’s eyes moved back to their door.

Something wasn’t right.

Creaak .

Just outside their apartment door.

Peter felt his blood run cold.

Karen was watching the door as well. Her face remained eerily calm compared to Peter’s panicked focus. She didn’t have a sixth sense for danger like he did, but she could pick up on any sudden changes in his heart rate and demeanor in mere milliseconds.

Neither of them said anything. They both knew.

Someone was waiting outside for them.

Peter could hear his pulse drumming in his ears as he took a step forward, but he stopped when his spidey sense screamed at him.

Vents. Get out. GET OUT!

But there was no way Peter could get out on time with Karen in tow. 

He watched in muted horror as a thick white fog exploded into the room, hissing through the vents that sat just above their bed. It filled their small space in mere seconds before Peter could even open the window.

He choked, staggering back.

Karen had analyzed the chemical composition of the gas in an instant, holding Peter steady, “It’s a sleeping agent, Peter.” She told him, trying to guide him towards the window so they could try to leave.

But the sleep agent was already doing its work. Peter’s head swam and he could feel his knees give out underneath him despite how hard he tried to fight the heavy fog taking over his mind. The room tilted sideways.

“Sh-... Shit-” He hissed, vision blurring. He collapsed to the floor and the last thing he heard before he lost consciousness was their door being slammed open.

*

Karen’s systems processed the variables immediately.

Peter was unconscious and vulnerable. 

There were now 3 masked individuals in the room, all wearing hand-sewn butcher aprons and grotesque animal masks. They each held rusty surgical tools in their bloodstained gloves. Their heads were tilted at unnatural angles and Karen could tell they were ready to subdue them by any means possible.

She couldn’t leave without Peter and she couldn’t fight back.

She calculated every outcome and concluded that surrendering was the safest outcome for Peter to remain unharmed. She would just have to call for help somehow…

A quick dive into her memory and she remembered that Peter had told her he was given two alert buttons by Jason.

Without so much as a blink, she connected to them as restraints were latched onto her small wrists.

And activated them both.

Bruce typed away on the Batcomputer, expression serious. 

It’d been weeks since school had started. And despite his kids hanging out with Peter and Karen regularly, they still didn’t have any solid leads on who the owner of Tony Stark’s bank account was. 

They all knew it wasn’t actually Tony Stark because Tony didn’t exist.

But someone was taking the money out of his account and giving it to Peter, but Peter wasn’t the one touching the bank account. It was an outside source that was ensuring he got the stipend Bruce had given them.

Barbara was already on the comm line, reporting to him her lack of findings, “Still nothing, B. The only thing I do know is that whoever is the true owner is also in Gotham.”

Bruce heard a long sigh sound behind him and felt Dick lean against the back of his chair, giving another forlorn sigh, “Guys… I need an honest opinion.” 

The rest of the family, who were lounging around the cave idly waiting to suit up for the night, exchanged glances. They were already sensing bullshit.

“Ok… so we all know that Ben is my son from the future and we all agree that he looks like me, right?”

Damian clicked his tongue, “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Yeah, if you darkened his hair and his eyes were blue…” Stephanie drawled.

Tim and Cass shrugged, waiting for him to continue.

Dick glanced around the room, taking a deep breath. His ears were red now but he held a serious expression on his face, “... Do you guys think that Liz looks like me, too? I think-”

“No.” Cass answered for him.

Stephanie was smiling now, far too giddy, “Oh, you thought you were getting a 2 for one deal, huh?” She teased before she seemed to take the thought seriously, “Liz looks like Ben though, so… they probably have the same mom, just different dads.”

"Yeah, an alien dad." Tim said.

Dick frowned, not pleased with the first answers, “I’m just saying-the more I look, the more I can see some of my features in Liz!” He pulled up a picture on his phone from a security feed, pointing at said features, “Like the eyes! Or the-uh-the structure!”

“No, she doesn’t.” Tim said, deadpan.

“You’re being delusional, Grayson.” Damian added, arms crossed.

Dick’s mouth hung open, absolutely betrayed. He kept his phone hanging in the air, showing Elizabeth’s face. “No, I’m not! You guys are just blind! Look at her cute face and tell me you don’t think we look alike. She’s got, like, Grayson-adjacent features.” He argued.

“Because she has a face?” Barbara pitched in, “Having a face doesn’t automatically give her ‘Grayson-adjacent features’, Dick.”

Bruce spun around to face them in his chair, “We’ll find out when we do the DNA test, but only when we get them in the manor.” He said pointedly, looking right at Tim. Since he’d decided to withhold information, he wasn’t allowed to do any DNA analysis until Bruce could get them in the manor, where they could spring into action if anything important was found.

“I want to make sure they’re safe first before we put that nail in the coffin.” He looked at Dick, who had an unreadable expression on his face, “But, I’m sure that whatever situation they’re in is one we can help them get out of. They’re only kids.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Now suit up. Patrol starts in an hour.” He ordered.

Steph patted Dick, who was still sulking, on the shoulder, “Don’t worry, Dick. Even if they’re not a matching set, you’ll still get 2.”

Dick waved her off, grumbling, “Whatever, thanks for crushing my dreams.

The light environment didn’t last long, however, as they barely even got to head for the changing rooms before Barbara was speaking into the comm line through the Batcomputer, “Jason has just alerted me that Ben and Elizabeth both pressed their panic buttons but they aren’t at the apartment. There’s no signs of struggle but he can smell chemicals in the air and their door was kicked down.”

The air was still.

“Everyone, get dressed now!” Bruce ordered, rising out of his seat to shoot for the changing rooms as well, “Wait for my orders after you're dressed! Oracle, find out who took them and where! Make sure to alert the GCPD to be on the lookout for our usual suspects."

Dick exhaled sharply, trying to quell the burning worry in his chest. They had to have gotten ambushed because he knew that Peter was capable, but Elizabeth… She was intelligent but she was just a child.

His jaw clenched.

Neither of them deserved what was happening to them.

Bruce’s voice was final.

“We’re bringing them to the manor when we find them.” He said, now dressed head to toe in his iconic Batman suit.

And with that, they moved out.

Chapter Text

The Watch Tower was quiet but hectic. The only sounds being the soft hum of computer screens, typing and Barbara’s hushed whispers to herself as she tried to figure out who had recently escaped Arkham or what traffickers had been active near Peter’s apartment.

She had to cross out every variable down the list.

“Oracle, anything yet?” Bruce asked.

“GCPD was trying to keep it under wraps to keep down public panic but Lazlo Valentin escaped Arkham Asylum three nights ago. We already know that Scarecrow escaped a week earlier.” She explained, reading through dozens of classified documents.

“It had to be Pyg,” Jason joined the conversation, “Scarecrow wouldn’t use sleeping gas.”

“Figure out where his hideout is, Oracle.”

“Already on it.” She’d said it harsher than she’d meant to, but time was of the essence when it came to Pyg. And she could see from various documents that Ben and Liz weren’t his only victims. There’d been about 3 more from the previous nights.

Ping.

Barbara’s brows furrowed at the unknown signal flashing on her monitor. It was located at Founders’ Island and it was too precise to be another distress beacon.

This was a location drop.

Someone was dropping her their coordinates.

She quickly pulled up the city’s surveillance feeds, looking for any and all suspicious activity of Lazlo Valentin’s movements. The last place she saw Valentin was heading towards Founders’ Island.

When she tried to trace back the ping’s original source, she was met with nothing. The fact that someone had gone through the trouble of sharing their location to her encrypted line sent up numerous red flags, but she had no choice but to run with the information she’d been given.

“… I just received a distress signal from an unknown signature.” Oracle alerted. “The location is an abandoned clinic on the east side of Founders’ Island, sending coordinates now.”

“Someone got through your wall?” Bruce asked. “Is it similar at all to the one signature that arrived at the same time as Ben and Elizabeth?”

“Yes it is,” Barbara said easily. Whoever kept breaching her lines was obviously working with Ben. They were keeping track of them and knew that she would send help, “Proceed en route and heed with caution. This could be a trap, but I’m thinking that this person knows Ben and Liz.”

Wake up.

Peter jolted awake to cold steel beneath his back. His body felt unnaturally heavy and sluggish, his vision was blurry and his limbs refused to move. Even when he tried to sit up, his body made no movements.

Panic surged through him as his Spidey sense screamed, but his body was paralyzed.

The room around him looked akin to a surgical room you would see in a horror movie. It was dimly lit with flickering fluorescent lighting that swayed lightly, casting jagged shadows. The room was filled with rusting surgical tools, some coated in a mixture of old and fresh blood. The smell of antiseptic, vomit and rotting flesh clashed in the air in a way that made Peter’s stomach turn.

That and he’d been stripped down to only his underwear.

This was bad.

This was really, really bad.

The sound of movement to his left made his breath hitch until a young voice reached his ears, “You are still suffering from side effects caused by the sleep gas and the paralytic drug that was given to you.” Peter wished he could turn his head so he could look at Karen. He wanted to make sure she was injured in any way, though from the sound of her voice, he’d guess she was fine. “5 minutes, Peter.” She estimated quietly.

He tried to quell the panic rising in his throat. 5 minutes sounded short but whoever had done this to him could be back any minute and Peter would be at their mercy until he could move again.

“Your stress is rising, Peter.” Karen commented, “Don’t worry, I’ve notified help. Jason knows that we’re missing.”

Peter gritted his teeth, evening out his hastening breath. He couldn’t wait for Jason to figure out where they were, they’d have to help themselves. “Ok… ok, great. What is Jason and his motorcycle gang gonna do? We-shit-we don’t even know where we are-” 

“I know where we are.” Karen interrupted, voice clear and calm. “I’ve already called for additional help… but you’ll need to hold out until then.”

Sometimes Peter forgot that Karen was an AI until she was doing exactly as she was programmed to do. Of course she knew where they were. She was one of the most advanced in their home dimension. Peter had noticed how the technology here was at least 10 years behind, hacking into tech here was probably light work for Karen.

They’d be okay, Peter told himself, he just needed to hold out for 4 more minutes.

Before Peter could ask or say more, the sound of slow, measured footsteps echoed outside the room. They were followed with a methodical hum of some old-timey, classical opera.

A man entered the room, dressed in a filthy butcher’s apron likely stained with putrid blood. He was wearing a hideous pig mask that cheerfully grinned with him and his gloved hands were clasped together.

“Ah, I see my little dollies are awake!” He was almost singing with how gleeful he was.

Peter looked at him as best as he could, trying to keep his face somewhat neutral, “Yeah… super thrilled about that. What’ve you got in store for me today, doc? I was thinking a little filler to even out my stress lines.” He said, tone sarcastic.

The man snorted at that, sounding too much like a pig, “Such a fiery little bird! Don’t worry, my dear boy! You’ll be getting something much, much better than filler!” 

He reached for a scalpel, twirling it in his fingers. “But first,” He turned his head ominously to look down at Karen, who was bound on the dirty ground, “I want to inspect my other dolly first.”

He stepped towards Karen, closing the gap between them and crouched low to the ground to be somewhat at her eye level. 

A curious hum left him and he tilted his head as he studied the small girl, “My precious little doll, you… you are different.” His gloved fingers gently traced the side of her face in twisted admiration, like she was a delicate piece of fabric.

Karen didn’t move. She only watched. Her hazel eyes showed no fear as the man studied the golden flecks speckled within her irises. 

“Such smooth, supple skin…” He breathed, “No imperfections, no blemishes… no…” He suddenly trailed off and seemed to snap out of his trance with a jerk, “No. No! No, no, no! You may look ‘perfect’ on the outside, but it’s merely a farce! No one is truly perfect until I’ve blessed them!”

Karen and Peter remained silent as the man stared at his twisted array of tools. He glanced down at Karen over his shoulder with an eerie grin, “But worry not, little one. You’ll be my biggest project! Professor Pyg will make you truly beautiful! I just need to work on my other dolly first!”

Peter’s breath hastened despite trying to keep a brave face as Valentin approached the metal bed he was strapped to. His body still couldn’t move.

Move. Move! Avoid!

He had two more minutes.

Get away!

His Spidey sense begged him to move, but there was nothing he could do. He could only try to stall.

“W-Wait! Wait!” Peter started, jaw clenched and aching, “What’re you gonna do to us? How will you make us perfect?” He asked.

Pyg was standing with his tools, sharpening a glinting scalpel, humming that same twisted tune under his breath. He slowly turned his head to look at Peter, pausing, clearly delighted.

“Ahh, a curious boy!” He sang, “I do love an inquisitive patient!” He went back to sharpening the scalpel, “Perfection… Perfection, my doll, is everything! It’s symmetry. Flawlessness. Freedom from the imperfections of failed flesh and failures of humanity!”

Pyg reaches under the hanging tools and lifts a grotesque doll mask to stoke it’s porcelain cheek lovingly. “Every single imperfection you harbor is a blemish on your soul. I have been gifted with the ability to fix that! I… I can cure you! Transform you! Sculpt you into something beautiful ! Something… pure .”

He stepped closer to Peter, blade glinting from the overhead lighting.

Peter felt like a piece of meat the way that Pyg studied his body.

After a moment, Pyg spoke again, “I was going to start with your tongue.” He told Peter honestly, “But I think… your horrid cheekbones need more work.” Valentin wasted no time. The twisted surgeon took the scalpel and with disturbing precision, cut at an angle at the corner of his right eye. 

Pain burned through Peter’s face, the scalpel dragging vertically and painfully through his cheek. The sharp sting sent a wave of nausea through his system. 

He could feel his fingers beginning to twitch as the paralytic drug began to wear off.

Pyg was speaking, but Peter couldn’t focus on what he was saying. 

He grit his teeth, sweat rolling down his forehead as he tried to keep down any screams that threatened to come out. He could feel something building in his body, particularly deep in his arms. It was like a deep, burning, tingling pressure that felt both foreign and right at the same time. Peter’s body had been different since the bite, but this was new .

GET UP!

An instinctual pulse shot through Peter’s arm and before he could process what was happening, he flexed his wrist and a thick stream of white webbing burst from his wrist and smacked straight into Pyg’s masked face.

The Pyg squealed, stumbling backwards and flailing at the sticky substance that now sealed off his mouth and nose. A muffled, angry scream emitted from his person and he clawed unsuccessfully at the webbing that refused to budge.

Peter’s brain barely had time to catch up before he followed his Spidey sense, snapping his limbs free from the leather strappings. His eyes went wide as he watched Pyg struggle with the webbing.

Holy mother of-

“Oh.” Karen said from her restraints, actually sounding surprised, “I was wondering what had developed in your arms. Now I know.”

“You knew?! When did this happen?” He couldn’t believe it. That came out of him… Like actually came out of him.

He didn’t know if he should be grossed out or excited.

“It happened while you were sick,” Karen reminded him with a shrug.

Leave !

Right, he needed to get them out of here.

They’d worry about his webbing thing later.

His strength was quickly returning to him but he still staggered slightly as his adrenaline pushed him forward. He hopped off the table and quickly found Karen on the floor to his left. She was bound by her hands and feet but her face remained ever neutral as Peter undid her binds.

Just as they were both free, Pyg was able to lift a little bit of the webbing from his mouth, gasping out with an animalistic growl, “Dollotrons! Get them! Get them now!” 

“Shut it, Chucky,” Peter quipped, webbing the man’s mouth shut again.

What the fuck was a dollotron?

The sounds of multiple people running reached his ears and his Spidey sense burst against his skull. They were coming and they were fast, and there was only one way out of this fucked up surgery room.

“Karen, how far is help?”

“5 minutes.”

They would be cornered. There were no other exits, they were stuck in this room. 

Peter would have to fight off the dollotrons to escape somewhere safe.

Peter set Karen under the table against a wall where the bloody tools were set, “Don’t come out from under there until I say so. Be ready to run.” His voice was steeled, commanding and leaving no room for arguments or comments.

Karen nodded, sitting underneath the table and looking up at Peter. He could see the way her eyes shined with a preparedness he’d never seen before. “Ok.”

The footsteps grew closer before the door was slammed open. In stepped five figures with grotesque puppet-like masks on their faces that twisted with eerie, uncanny grins. They all had scalpel blades or bone saws in their malformed hands.

Ah.

So those were dollotrons.

Creepy.

Peter wiped the blood away from his face, now in a fighting stance.

It was go time.

Thwip!

Peter flexed his hands instinctively. Two thick strands of webbing shot past the dollotrons, clinging to the door. He yanked hard, breaking the rusted door from its hinges. It collided with two of the dollotrons, knocking them to the floor.

Thwip! Thwip!

Two more strands shot out his wrists, clinging to the ceiling. He pulled, vaulting himself over the remaining three and flipping into the air. 

While middair, he fired a series of rapid web shots, pinning the three to the walls before he landed.

He landed on the door that was now on the floor. He was now standing between the last two dollotrons. They rushed at him and Peter shot another web at one, pulling hard and yanking him into the other. They slammed into each other and Peter webbed them to the floor together.

“Run!” Peter ordered. He could hear about a dozen more dollotrons, but they were further away. There had to be a window somewhere nearby outside this room. If he could get himself and Karen there before the dollotrons caught up, they could escape.

Karen shot out from underneath the table, running close behind Peter out of the room and into the hall.

It was dark and dingy. There were no lights on in the part of the abandoned clinic. The only light that came into the open floor of the clinic was from the wide-paned windows that were shattered. Peter could feel broken glass cutting into the bottom of his bare feet as he ran but he ignored the burning pain, keeping his pace slower so Karen could keep up.

The dollotrons moved faster, Peter knew they’d been seen. But there was no need to panic, the windows were just a few feet away.

Peter grabbed Karen, shooting a web outside. It latched to the edge of the roof across from them and Pete jumped forward, swinging them out of the building through the window. 

Karen held onto Peter tighter as he shot another bit of webbing and lifted them up to the roof.

It wasn’t their most graceful landing, but Peter was able to keep them from eating absolute shit. They only stumbled ungracefully. Well, more like Peter only stumbled a bit because Karen wouldn’t release her hands from around his waist until he damn near had to push her off of him so he could finally get his balance.

He took a quick breather, watching the dollotrons gather at the shattered windows. They scattered away after a moment, like roaches when the kitchen lights turn on.

He shivered, a chill running up his spine, “Fucking yuck.”

Karen stared up at him and he stared back. She scanned his facial injury with a miniscule frown on her face, “That will need disinfecting and stitching. Batman and the others will likely-”

“Batman?!” Peter squawked, “You called Batman and his bird brigade? The ones that you and I both know have been stalking us?! Why would you do that?”

Now Karen was looking at him as if he’d called her stupid. “Because Bruce Wayne and Batman are the same person.”

Peter froze at that, shrugging with a confused huff, “Ok… what’s that got to do with anything?”

“Our apartment is compromised, so Bruce Wayne will take us in once he saves us- as Batman.” Karen explained slowly, like Peter wasn’t understanding.

“But why would he? We’re just two scholarship kids that happen to know his kids?”

Karen tilted her head, eyes squinting at Peter, “Peter… Batman and his team already know that you’re Spider-Man. They’ve just been keeping an eye on us to figure out what our situation is.” Before Peter could ask another question, Karen answered, as if she already knew what he was going to ask, “The other vigilantes are Jason, Dick and the others.”

Peter gawked, “All of them? 

“Yes, Peter.”

“They planned all of this.” Peter realized, sitting on the ledge of the roof with slumped shoulders, “They’re crazy.” He knew that they were a weird bunch, but he was having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that they’d known the entire time and were just playing in his face.

“Yes, they are.” Karen agreed, “But that doesn’t mean they don’t mean well.” And there was truth to that. If they’d thought that Peter was dangerous, they would’ve taken him long ago.

“Do you think I should tell them about our situation?”

“That’s up to you, Peter.”

Silence followed them.

Peter wasn’t sure.

He’d only known the Waynes for a month and met Bruce Wayne once. But so far, all they’d done is help him and Karen. 

Jason had gotten them housing. Barbara was the first kind soul that helped Peter when he’d arrived. Bruce gave them more money than he could ever hope to have and the others had given him their friendship. And it didn’t feel fake. It felt like they really did care for Peter and Karen.

Like they did want to help them.

And they still helped despite knowing that Peter was lying to them.

…

This was too much thinking to do after being kidnapped.

Peter could feel the last of his adrenaline wearing off. All that was left was pure exhaustion and an intense desire to get in his bed.

He looked to the empty streets past his dangling feet. He could hear police sirens in the distance, likely headed towards their area. “How far are they, K?”

Karen sat down beside him, legs idly kicking as they dangled over the ledge, “They’re here.”

Just as she said that, Peter felt his Spidey sense hum at the back of his neck.

Peter and Karen turned and watched as Batman jumped down from a platform. He rose, towering over them with a stoic expression. Two more figures landed near him. One landed with an experienced silence. Peter wouldn’t have heard them if he didn’t have heightened hearing. The other was more agile, landing gracefully with practiced ease.

Unlike Batman, who’s suit was black and grey, the female vigilante’s suit was primarily black with gold detailing. They wore a mask that concealed their entire face and a hood that covered their dark hair.

They looked cool as hell.

“Unharmed?” the female vigilante asked.

Karen turned around fully, “Ben has a cut on his face that needs attention. I am fine.”

The other vigilante’s suit was also black but with a blue bird symbol at the front of their suit. They wore a domino mask to conceal their identity. He had an easy smile on his face but Peter could see it was a little tight.

“We were worried you guys wouldn’t be able to escape.” He said, “But it looks like you’re more skilled than we’d thought… I’m sorry you guys had to get yourselves out before we could get here.”

Peter found himself waving away the apology, “No, it’s fine, I’ve been…” Well, maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say right now. 

Batman looked at Peter, noting the long cut on his face and the dried blood that had dripped down his neck and to his naked chest. He grabbed his cape, unhooking it and giving it to Peter.

The teen gratefully took the garment, covering himself. He’d forgotten he was just in his underwear.

“You two know more than you let on.” Batman started, confident in what he was saying. “We know that you both came here under unusual circumstances and that you both are metas.”

Even though Karen had told him that it was unlikely that Batman and his bird brigade would harm them, he still couldn’t help but feel nervous.

“And though we don’t know why you’re here, we know it wasn’t your choice.” Batman added. Peter wondered how he could sound so scary and safe at the same time, “My team and I would be willing to help you if you’ll answer some of our questions.”

“What questions?” Karen asked.

“Tt, not here. Back at the BatCave.” A younger voice started from the darkness. They revealed themselves, ignoring the pointed look from the bat vigilante.

“ After we get you some medical attention,” Batman added, looking over at Orphan, “Secure the perimeter. Make sure there are no more hostages.”

Orphan nodded, bidding both Peter and Karen a quick goodbye before launching off the ledge and towards the abandoned clinic just across the street.

Batman lifted a hand to where his ear would be on his cowl, “Red Robin, help Orphan take care of the other dollotrons. Both of you will continue patrol for the night.” He ordered, “Everyone else head back to the BatCave, now. I’ll pick up Ben and Elizabeth. Agent A, prepare their room for the night.”

“Of course, sir.” A British voice responded.

“Wow, we’re getting kidnapped just like that? We just escaped Porky.”

Robin scrunched his nose, arms crossed, “Do you two have somewhere else to go?”

Peter shrugged. No, no they didn’t have anywhere else to go.

Another voice spoke into the comm line, “I’m sitting this one out, I’ve got my own things I need to do tonight,” Red Hood said, the sound of rough wind almost drowning out his voice, “But do tell me how the DNA test goes!”

A frown reached Peter’s face, an eyebrow raised in confusion, “Why’re we doing a DNA test?” 

“To confirm if you two are who we really think you are.” Nightwing answered.

“Wait, the DNA test is being done tonight?! No fair! I wanted to be there for that!” Red Robin moaned.

“No, you’re still on punishment.” Batman answered back, tone deadpan.

“But Signal will see!” He argued. It didn’t matter that they all knew that Peter definitely was Dick’s son, but he didn’t want Duke holding anything over his head. 

That was his thing.

“Red Robin.”

“... Spoiler should stay on patrol too since she also knew-” 

“Lies! Lies on my name! Spoiler is and always has been innocent!” Spoiler interrupted, defending her honor.

Any bickering that was about to start was instantly halted by Batman clearing his throat, “It sounds like we need to have another family meeting about withholding information. We’ll discuss further when patrol ends for everyone.” He said, voice tight. “Spoiler, you’ll be continuing your patrol as well.”

Peter couldn’t stop the laughter that bloomed from his chest at the resounding groan he heard from Batman’s comm.

The comm line was silenced before any more complaints could be said and Nightwing shook his head to himself, “ Kids , am I right?”

Peter smiled, “Tell me about it.”

Batman presses a button on his gauntlet and Peter watches in silent amazement when he sees the rumored Batmobile dart down the street and came to a halt just below them, its engine purring quietly.

“Let’s go.” Batman jumped down, landing flawlessly and Peter almost couldn’t believe this was the billionaire playboy that new articles wouldn’t shut up about.

Peter grabbed Karen, jumping down in a similar fashion. Nightwing followed shortly after.

The doors of the Batmobile open by themselves as they approach. They slide in after Batman and Nightwing get into the front seats and the doors slide shut with a soft hiss. Batman glances at them through the rearview mirror.

It’s insanely hard to read his face with the cowl, but his voice is softer when he speaks, “You’ll be safe where we’re taking you.”

Despite the exhaustion, the anxiety wouldn’t let Peter rest in the sleek vehicle. He nodded stiffly, “I believe you.”

*

After driving through a series of tunnels, the Batmobile descended into darkness on a hidden platform. With a smooth hiss, the vehicle slowed and came to a stop within a cave on another platform.

Peter stumbled out, blinking at the massive cavern around him. Karen stood beside him, scanning the area.

This wasn’t just a cave.

This was a command center.

Computers the size of walls. Vehicles lined up in rows. A t-rex statue. A giant penny.

Peter could feel his jaw dropping. “No way…” He whispered to himself.

Batman pulled off his cowl a moment later. Bruce Wayne stared back at Peter, face grim and tired.

Behind the older man, the other vigilantes pulled off their masks too. 

It was Damian and Dick.

“I can’t believe you guys had me figured out the whole time,” He pouted. “Where did I mess up?”

“Your wounds,” Dick answered. He then gestured to Karen, “You also still had Elizabeth with you, so we just put two and two together.”

“You didn’t make it hard.” Damian commented.

Jeez, Peter was just that sloppy, huh? Or were they just that good?

No, Peter, you’re just that sloppy.

“Nevermind that, why do you have a giant penny?” Peter had to ask.

Batman glances over at the penny for a moment, “It’s a trophy from the past.” And that was all he said. Peter had more questions than answers now. “We’re gonna have Alfred look you over and get that cut stitched up in the med bay.”

“And then it’s interrogation time?” Peter asked in faux excitement. No one gave him a reaction, unfortunately. Tough crowd.

An elderly man appeared before them. 

He was balding, but the little bit of hair he had left was stark grey and perfectly combed. A fancy mustache sat atop his lips and the suit he was wearing was nothing short of pristine. This man, Alfred, was the most butler looking butler that Peter had ever laid his eyes on.

His wrinkled, grey-blue eyes were wise and kind and he greeted Karen and Peter with a short bow, “Greetings, Master Ben and Miss Elizabeth. Since I’ve been informed of your current situation and knowledge, just Alfred is fine.” He gestured towards another area of the Batcave on the second floor, “Please, follow me to the med bay. I’ll see to it that your cut is properly cared for.”

Peter left with Alfred and Karen stayed behind.

Dick hovers nearby, casting glances up to the med bay and then down at Karen.

Damian watches her too before he steps towards her, “Are you okay?” He asked her quietly.

Karen’s head turns to him and her eyes scan his face, searching it as she figures out how to respond. The question is easy, but she finds herself unable to process it like she usually would.

It should be an easy yes or no.

But it isn’t.

“I’m fine… just thinking.”

“About?”

“A lot.”

Damian knew that was all he’d get out of her, so he nodded.

It was only 20 minutes before Peter returned, now sporting butterfly closures on his cut and wearing clothes that Dick had brought for him.

The Batcomputer’s main screen glowed pale blue, casting dull shadows where Bruce stood with his arms crossed at the platform. Dick and Damian stood close behind him.

On the main screen was a thin line that pulsed as the system analyzed the DNA samples that Bruce had put in just minutes prior.

“When did you guys collect our DNA?” Peter wishes that he was more creeped out, but he’s feeling a bit emotionally numb at the moment.

Dick gave a hum, “Mmm, Tim has been collecting your hair since he first met you guys.”

Peter wasn’t going to think about how strange this all was.

Bruce turned around to face Peter and Karen, “I won’t press for answers, but I’d appreciate it if you could clear up a few things about yourselves and your situation.”

They both nodded.

“Are the names you have in your files your real ones?” Bruce started off slow and Peter found himself a bit taken aback at how simple the question was.

Telling them his and Karen’s real names wouldn’t change anything. “No. My real name is Peter Parker.”

They looked to Karen, who only blinked, “The name I was originally given was Karen. Karen Parker.”

Bruce hummed at their answers but seemed satisfied otherwise, “How much of your government documents are falsified?”

Ok, that was a little bit harder to answer.

Karen spoke up when Peter hesitated to answer, “Our ages and birthplaces are the only parts of our documents that are true.”

“So, there is no Tony Stark?” Dick asked with a frown, “Like Tony Stark doesn’t exist at all?”

Karen nodded, “Correct.”

“Then who else is working with you?”

“Huh?” Peter blurted dumbly.

Bruce pulled up something on the screen; a map of the city with a red dot on an island called Founders’ Island. “We received an anonymous ping to your location after we got word from Jason that you two had been kidnapped.” Bruce explained. “The signature for the ping couldn’t be traced back to anyone, but it’s the same signature that we know helped you guys create your fake identities a day after you got here.”

It was the same signature that had been driving Oracle up the wall. She couldn’t trace it no matter how hard she tried.

Peter looked at the map and swallowed. He wanted to be honest, but he didn’t want to reveal Karen’s true nature.

He wasn’t sure how well Bruce would take the news that Karen was an AI that was technologically advanced years beyond anything he had in this very cave.

Dick saw the way Peter’s jaw clenched and the way Karen watched him like a hawk. He cleared his throat, “Ben-no, Peter… you don’t have to tell us right now if you don’t want to.” He tried but Damian scoffed.

“It’s suspicious if you don’t, though.” He didn’t seem happy to say that. It sounded like Damian wanted them to be honest so they could lay this entire situation to rest.

Peter licked his lips after a moment and sighed, “I can’t say. I’m sorry.” He just couldn’t expose Karen. Her being a human with abilities was one thing, but admitting that she was an AI built by one of the smartest people in his dimension that was somehow given a human-like body and could bypass damn near any firewall with a wrinkle of her nose?

Out of the question.

That would raise too many red flags and lead to even more questions about just how much Karen could do.

And Peter wasn’t even sure himself what all Karen was capable of.

Hell, now that he had spinnerets in his arms, he wasn’t even sure what he was capable of.

Whatever had brought them here, had changed their bodies.

“Why?” 

Peter swallows thickly, looking down and flexing his hands beneath the cape that’s still draped over his shoulders, “I-I just don’t trust you yet. Any of you. Not with them… I’m sorry.” He takes a deep breath to ease the anxiety quelling in his body, “If I tell you who helped us and how they helped us, you might decide that they’re a threat. A threat that needs to be contained… or controlled, or worse. And I’m not- I can’t -let that happen. Not again.” This was the most that Peter had poured his heart out since being here.

It felt good to be heard by actual people.

But it hurt to remember that Peter was cursed. That’s why he died and that’s why he was here in Gotham of all places in another dimension with no idea how to get back home.

He didn’t even know if he could get home.

But that wasn’t what scared him most right now.

He was scared of losing Karen. Of his Parker Luck reaching her.

She was the only sense of family and familiarity that he had here and though she was strong, she wasn’t invincible. And Peter cared about Karen like she really was his weird little sister.

Losing her would break him.

Being alone would break him.

And if he needed to keep her true nature hidden to protect her, then he would. He didn’t care if he looked suspicious. He’d leave right now if Bruce had a problem with that. They could find another home.

Bruce watched Peter carefully. The tension in the room began to drain and he nodded.

“I understand.”

Peter looked up, genuinely surprised. “You do?”

“Of course, Ben. Whoever this person is, is someone you care about.” He rises out of his chair and steps forward, “I won’t press you, but remember that trust is a two-way street.” He said, making his way towards the changing rooms, “While you’re in my house, you’re a part of this family which means we protect each other. Whether we have secrets or not.”

Peter felt his shoulders finally relax and looked to Dick and Damian.

They each nodded.

“It’s true. We won’t hurt either one of you.” Dick promised.

Damian still had his arms crossed, but his green eyes softened when he looked at Karen, “I don’t like it… but I understand.”

“Thank you…” Peter trailed off, wiping away a few tears from his cheeks.

When had he started crying?

He felt a tug on the t-shirt he was wearing and smiled down at Karen, who was looking up at him. She was scanning his face, calculating whatever swirl of emotions he was going through, her own eyes looked at him in question and he nodded reassuringly.

He was okay.

The cave was silent for a moment, but it wasn’t tense like before. It was a respectful silence. 

They were respecting Peter’s feelings and allowing him a moment.

“Are the questions getting to be too much?” Dick asked, stepping closer. It looked like he wanted to hug them, but he knew better and stayed back. “We can stop for the night, it’s late-”

“No, I’m fine. We can continue.”

Bruce continued, “This will be the last question for tonight,” He told Peter, “Where are you two actually from?”

“New York?” Peter tried, not understanding what Bruce was asking. He snapped his eyes over to Damian when he clicked his tongue in clear annoyance.

Dick gave a dry chuckle, “No, we mean are you from the future?”

Peter and Karen looked at each other.

I mean, they were from the future. But that was only because their dimension was about 10 years ahead. It was 2008 here and 2018 where Peter was from.

“I can’t tell you that either.” Peter didn’t even know how they’d gotten in another dimension. He didn’t want to get Bruce and his family involved if there was an unknown enemy involved. They’d been kind enough to give him money and now shelter. He didn’t need to get them wrapped up in his dimensional business.

Bruce raised an eyebrow, “Can’t or won’t?”

Peter shrugged, face conflicted, “Both?” He shook his head, “I don’t even know if you guys would believe me.”

“You’d be surprised.” Dick huffed.

Bruce folded his arms. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken thoughts and questions, “Like I said, I won’t push you. But know that secrets don’t stay buried forever, Peter. I hope you’ll trust us to tell us before it comes out another way.”

Peter looked down, “I want to,” He said softly, feeling Karen grip his shirt tighter, “I just can’t right now.”

A ping from the Batcomputer rang out and everyone turned their attention to the large screen that was now displaying Peter’s results.

Subject 1: Ben Peters

Match Found.
Genetic profile confirmed: 99.96% match with Richard Grayson and Mary Parker.
Meta Gene: Found
Anomalous Genetic Modification: Detected as Non-Human Segments with Identified Markers Confirmed as Arachnid (Order: Araneae)

Records found in Wayne Archives.

A few pictures came up immediately. Some were of Mary and others were articles pertaining to her.

Mary had brown hair and brown eyes, something that Peter had obviously gotten from her but other than that, Peter looked a lot more like his father.

Like Dick.

 In one picture, she was wearing a graduation robe with a Masters’ degree in Molecular Biology. The picture after that, she’s holding a doctorate in Genetics.

Additional files popped up for Mary Parker. She was 26, lived in Queens, New York and worked at a relatively new company called Oscorp as a scientist that specializes in genetic modification in arachnids. The work was obviously under the table, not meant to be for the public eye due to the ethical controversies and potential dangers.

Peter’s eyes scanned the numerous pictures and words flashed on the screen, clear and bold.

He was hit with an overwhelming amount of emotion and it hurt.

It hurt to see someone that looked so much like his mother that was alive and well. A woman that he only had fleeting memories of and had very few pictures of.

A woman that was very different from the one he’d only heard stories of.

And Oscorp.

Oscorp existed here. 

Would this Oscorp go down the same path? Was there a Curt Connors here too? Would he lose control of himself and become the Lizard? He’d barely stopped the Lizard back home from destroying New York.

What if he was too late here?

What if all of this was happening because he was here?

“Peter?” Came Dick’s voice. 

When Peter didn’t react, he touched his shoulder, backing away when Peter flinched like his touch burned. His heart stinged a bit at the look Peter gave him and he had to wonder what Peter had been through for him to have this type of reaction.

Peter swallowed, sighing heavily in a weak attempt to try and quell the rawness he felt.

He needed to be done. Just for tonight, he needed to be done.

“Mr. Wayne… Can we be done?” Peter asked, voice barely above a whisper. If he tried to speak any louder he’d cry and he really didn’t want to ugly cry in front of them. He gritted his teeth when he felt Karen grip his shirt tighter.

Bruce didn’t need to use his detective skills to see that Peter was getting overwhelmed and he knew he wasn’t going to get many answers from either of them tonight. He gestured to Alfred, who stood ready at the top of the stairs to the second floor of the Batcave, “Alfred will take you to your rooms and give you two a light dinner for the night. We’ll see you in the morning.”

No more words were exchanged. Peter simply drug himself up the stairs with Karen and followed Alfred out of the Batcave.

The silence is deafening.

Dick doesn't move from where he stands, his eyes remain fixed where Peter and Karen were standing.

Bruce watches Dick for a moment, expression unreadable and arms crossed. There’s tension in his shoulder.

Damian lingers nearby, his arms also folded and brows drawn tightly in deep thought, “That was an interesting reaction. He looked sad, scared even.”

Dick’s gaze was downcast, brows knitted together, “He looked at me like,” He paused, voice tight, “Like something terrible happened between us. Or… like I had something to do with it…”

Damian doesn’t respond. He stares at his eldest brother. It’s rare to see him so visibly thrown off his center.

Dick paces now, running a hand through his hair, “What did I do?” He asks, like he’ll get answer, “Did I leave him? Was I a horrible dad? Did I die? Is that why he doesn’t want to say anything to us? Or why he keeps looking at me like-like I’m a familiar stranger?”

Damian shrugs. He nor Bruce can give him the actual answer. “Something obviously happened with both his mother and you.”

That shut Dick up for a moment and he stopped pacing.

“He’s likely afraid that if he opens up again, he’ll lose you both again.” He noted grimly.

They all fall silent. 

Dick stares up the stairs, where Peter and Karen had just been, “He’s just a kid, Bruce. He doesn’t have to deal with whatever’s going on alone. Neither of them should.”

Bruce rests a hand on Dick’s shoulder. It’s a rare, grounding gesture.

“He won’t have to for much longer. I’m sure he’ll realize that soon enough.”

*

Moonlight bleeds through the windows, a soft glow is casted across the room.

Peter is sat in his large guest room, sitting on the edge of the bed that isn’t really his.

He keeps his gaze out the window, his Spidey sense vibrating softly when he hears the door creak open.

“Peter?” Karen stepped inside, steps quiet. She’s dressed in Nightwing themed pajamas and she tilts her head when Peter doesn’t answer, making her way to stand a few feet away. “Are you okay?”

Peter doesn’t look up. He almost doesn’t even answer.

He doesn't want to talk right now.

He doesn’t want to think right now.

He doesn’t want to feel right now.

But he answers anyway, because he knows that Karen won’t leave until he answers, “Yeah.”

There’s a pause and Karen steps closer, “You don’t have to pretend. Your heartbeat and breathing have been irregular.”

A scoff leaves Peter, but not one of annoyance, it’s one of exhaustion.

“Only you would say that instead of asking if I want to talk.”

Another pause and Karen slowly sits down beside him, “Ok. Do you want to talk about it?”

Peter gives her a point for trying, but he isn’t sure if she’d truly understand. He’s quiet for a moment, jaw tightening before he shakes his head stiffly.

“No, K. Not right now.”

He finally looks at her, eyes rimmed red.

“Can you… go to your room?” He knew she wouldn’t decline, but a part of him felt guilty for kicking her out. He understood that she just wanted to help, but he didn’t want her help. Karen would be too logical, too analytical. Too robotic.

She was learning, but she just wasn’t there yet.

Karen watched him, eyes wide and scanning. She studies his face-his hurt, rather than assessing his vitals like she’d been doing.

Silently, she stands up and goes to the door. She hesitates when she opens it, peering over at Peter.

Had she said something wrong?

She felt that she’d made an error somewhere.

The door makes a soft click when Karen closes it behind her.

In her room, Karen sits cross legged in her guest bed. She stares at her lap but her eyes aren’t focused on the world in front of her.

She runs internal diagnostics and calculations in her database of a mind, expression distant.

She only lays down when she sees that Peter’s vitals are finally level, a sure sign he was finally asleep.

She replays the moment with Peter.

She understood the emotional context. She understood that he was feeling a plethora of emotions and that he wished to be alone so he could properly assess them.

But that was another flaw she found in herself.

Understanding was not the same as feeling.

And though she knew that her body was adapting and changing to better integrate with the world around her.

She wasn’t going to be perfect at it the first time around.

And a part of her hated that.

That despite her being made to be one of the smartest AIs made by one of the smartest men in her home dimension, she was bad at something.

She couldn’t be original and she couldn’t relate to people in a truly meaningful way. She could only copy and relate to others in a more logical fashion.

She felt a weight in her chest that wasn’t really there.

“I should’ve said something else.” She tells herself, replaying the moment with Peter over and over again.

When she grows tired of the replays, she closes her eyes.

She doesn’t need sleep and when she does ‘sleep’ it’s more of like a low resting mode.

But she can pretend just for a while that she is asleep.

The cave is empty and dim. The only sound amongst the quiet is the low hum of the numerous screens of the Batcomputer.

Tim and Duke creep in from the elevator shaft, both of them are in their pajamas, moving in like trained professionals. They had tried to get Stephanie to join them, but she felt that her sleep was far more important and they knew better than to try and wake her up. 

They reach the terminal and Tim takes over, pulling up the DNA database like it was second nature. He enters in the credentials he wasn’t supposed to have memorized while Duke mutters under his breath beside him.

“This is so dumb,” He whispers, “We helped bring them in and then he won’t let us see their results?” Duke hadn’t cared at first. He didn’t think the punishment was unfair, but when everyone came out of the Batcave acting all cryptic, he knew that they’d missed something big.

And Bruce still had the nerve to tell them to wait until morning to see their results.

Which is why they were now sneaking into the Batcave at 3 in the morning.

Tim nodded, “Exactly. Bruce was being dramatic. ‘You broke protocol’, ‘You could cause a serious breach of safety’, ‘I’m Batman, when I withhold information it’s fine but when my kids do it, it’s a problem’.” Tim blabs in a mocking gruff voice.

Peter’s results flash on screen and they both nod.

“Ok, no surprise there.” Tim says. He leans in, squinting at his DNA.

Duke squints too, pointing at the screen, “He has spider DNA integrated into his genome.”

“Not only that,” Tim says, a deep frown on his face, “Look there, that spider DNA is radioactive. How did you not check for that?”

Duke gave Tim and unimpressed stare, “I was too busy noticing that Liz was boneless!”

“So you checked to see if she was strange but didn’t check to see if Spiderboy was radioactive or not?”

“Why the hell would I suspect that he’s radioactive?! We already knew he was meta.”

“No, you’re right.” Tim sighed, “I’m just mad. Ignore me.”

“But he’s not dangerous, right?”

“No… the radiation is contained. Somehow his body is producing and absorbing it simultaneously.” He clicked on Mary’s file, eyes zeroing in on her work for Oscorp. 

Oscorp, despite being a newer company, was constantly under fire for their work since it involved cross-species genetics which they claimed to do to develop cures for certain diseases.

But that’s not what Tim found interesting.

He pointed out a particular file and brought it forward on the screen, “Look at the patent trails… she’s currently working on developing a protein-binding compound for accelerated healing using spiders .” The work, so far, was purely theoretical, but they could all tell that it was cutting edge.

Duke shook his head in disbelief, “This is crazy… There’s no way Dick would get with someone like her.”

“Well, maybe they don’t.” Tim voices, closing the files, “But obviously something went down and Peter was experimented on when the spider research was actually put into action.”

Karen’s files were pulled up next.

Subject 2: Elizabeth Peters

No Match Found.
Genetic Profile Confirmed: Non-Human, Modified
No conclusive match found in current alien or known species databases.
Meta Gene: Not Found

Anomalies present in cellular structure.

Hypothesis: Unknown extraterrestrial origin or synthetic organism

Records found in Wayne Archives.

Tim made a fascinated noise as he studied her genetic makeup.

Her DNA looked human at first glance, but for a trained eye like Tim, he could immediately spot the inconsistencies. Like how her genetic sequences didn’t match any known human genomes and how the codons were being used unnaturally.

“So… she is an alien?”

“Could be,” Tim shrugged, “We’d have to do more tests to-”

“What part of ‘restricted access’ was unclear?” Came Bruce’s voice from a few feet behind them.

Tim and Duke freeze, slowly turning to see Bruce standing behind them. He looked disappointed and far too tired to be dealing with their little escapade.

“You can’t really blame us when you kept us in the dark.” Tim argued.

Duke nodded along, “And it’s not like this was just curiosity. I mean, you said it yourself, we should try to know as much as we can about the people around us.”

Bruce didn’t say anything for a while. His eyes are narrowed but not with anger, more like tired calculation.

“They are under our protection while in this house. And we won’t be pressing for answers for the time being.” Bruce explains simply.

He walks over to the computer, closing out the files, “I have a feeling that Peter will tell us the truth in due time. For now, though, we’ll be keeping an eye out for Oscorp.”

“Peter?”

Bruce nodded, “Yes, that’s his real name.”

“So you think that Oscorp has something to do with some of his abilities, too?” Tim asked.

“I do. Now, please go to bed. We’ll discuss more later.”

"Are you going to extend our punishment?" Duke asked, "Because I just want to let you know that Tim dragged me down here."

"Let me sleep on it."

"That means yes, you snitch."

Chapter Text

The conference room is cold and sleek. It’s dimly lit with white lighting but the skyline of New York glows behind floor-to-ceiling windows.

Despite the dozen chairs around the table, only three seats are occupied.

Norman Osborn is seated at the head of the table. He’s a man in his late 50s that’s dressed in a tailored dark green suit. His hair is slicked back and greying but his eyes are sharp with calculation. He’s reading through the screen of a laptop in front of him, jaw twitching before his lips press into a thin line.

“No one’s biting. We haven’t been able to get any investors, not after last year’s PR disaster.” He explained with a tight voice.

Seated to Norman’s right is one of his lead scientists, Dr. Curt Connors. He’s in his 40s and wears a stained lab coat over his wrinkled button-down shirt and slacks. His left arm ends just below the elbow. He doesn’t look happy and sucks his lips inwards, “It’s not my fault they don’t understand the trials and errors of regenerative medicine! That rat may have failed but it was a step in the right direction.” 

It pissed him off that the investors only cared about optics.

To the left of Norman, across from Connors, sat Dr. Mary Parker. She’s no longer the bright-eyed intern that she was 2 years ago. Now, she’s in her mid-30s with her hair in a slightly disheveled, professional bun and a lab coat that is spotless. Her eyes are rimmed with fatigue and she rubs at them with a deep sigh.

“But we can’t go forward without a financial partner. Even if we did perfect the serum, we’d have no way of producing it or testing it.”

Norman keeps his hands planted on the table, expression unreadable, “I know.” He says, voice low. He stares off into the city skyline with narrowed eyes, “There’s a point when you have to recognize a sunk cost.”

Mary and Curt both freeze at that, furrowing their brows in confusion.

“What are you saying?” Curt asks.

Norman turns back to them, eyes sharp, “I’m saying that every time we appear in headlines, it’s about how we’re torturing animals or failing at coming up with this ‘miracle’ serum. We bleed credibility, we lose grants and we lose potential partners.” He takes a deep breath, obviously not wanting to say what must be said, “What we’re doing-no-what you’re doing is brilliant, but brilliance doesn’t keep the lights on.”

“Norman, you can’t be serious!” Curt snaps, anger reaching it’s threshold. He slams his hand on the table, “We’re so close! With some funding, we’d have the serum perfected in just a few years!”

“We can’t just up and quit when we’re right near the finish line.” Mary adds. “If we can both complete our research, this will change the medical field as we know it!”

Norman doesn’t answer immediately. He shifts his gaze between his two partners. He speaks, voice quiet, “Oscorp won’t survive a few more years. Not with those projects. We need to pivot.” He hadn’t told them, but he was thinking about segwaying more into their robotics department. He’d already been in the works with the military for investments to produce advanced technologies. 

Curt rises from his chair, fuming, “You’re asking us to just walk away from this? We’re right on the cusp of something real! You’ve seen our work, Norman!”

“Yes, I have. And I saw what it turned that rat into.”

The silence was thick.

“Norman… we’re not the only ones doing this kind of work, we’re just more public.” Mary pointed out, tone even, “If we stop and sell what we have… someone else will finish it and they might not be as careful.” She’d hate for her or Curt’s work to be given to the wrong hands.

Norman shook his head, standing up with a darkened expression, “I’ve already thought long and hard about this. Now I need you two to think about what you want more- validation, or results?” 

And with that, Norman smooths his suit jacket and gestures for the door, “This is the last time we’ll be having this conversation. The decision has already been made… I’m sorry. I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

Curt and Mary leave in tense silence, neither of them look back.

Karen watched as the sun began to bleed pale orange light across the skyline and the manor’s grandiose backyard garden.

She sat at the window in her room, legs folded neatly beneath her. She’d been ‘asleep’ for a few hours. The invisible weight was still in her chest.

She’d decided she didn’t want to sleep anymore and had been patiently waiting for Peter to wake up, but she knew that wouldn’t happen for at least another two hours.

A knock sounded at her door and she was greeted by Alfred. He was holding a neatly folded bundle of her clothes from the previous night. They were freshly washed and dried.

“Good morning, Mr. Pennyworth.” She greeted.

The butler offered a small smile, “Just Alfred, please, and a very good morning to you, Miss Elizabeth.” He continued into the room and placed her clothes on the edge of her bed, “I took the liberty of having your clothes cleaned and dried until we can get you more in your size. I’m afraid we’ve only had young boys in the manor.”

Karen, now in the room standing nearby, only shrugged, “It is fine. Thank you.”

Alfred studied her for a moment, “Did something wake you up? You were meant to rest longer,” He said gently. “You and Master Peter have had quite the ordeal last night.”

She shook her head, honey brown locks swishing with the movement, “I’m not tired anymore.”

Alfred simply nodded, “Very well then. Is there anything you’d like to do until the rest of the house wakes? Perhaps a quick morning snack before I begin breakfast?”

Karen tilted her head at him, thinking.

“I’d like to help you cook.”

Alfred blinked, surprised, “Cook?”

The young android nodded once, “As a thank you for taking us in.” She blinked with a tilt of her head, “I also know that my domestic contributions will increase my perceived belonging within the family dynamic.”

Alfred’s mouth twitched in amusement, “A noble mission, indeed, Miss Karen,” He placed a hand over his chest in mock solemnity, “It would be an honor to have a dedicated sous-chef by my side this fine morning.”

“I will be quick to change. Don’t leave.” Karen said, grabbing her clothes and disappearing into the bathroom.

Alfred glanced across the hallway to Peter’s guest room door and back at the closed bathroom door, “What a peculiar child.” He murmured to himself.

Karen was soon dressed in her plain t-shirt and jeans and padded into the kitchen behind Alfred, prepared to help with breakfast.

Amongst the marble counters were a plethora of ingredients. A quick glance allowed Karen to deduce that the menu for breakfast would include pancakes, eggs, bacon, turkey sausage and mixed fruit.

She pointed at the two cartons of eggs, “We will need more eggs. Peter requires a higher calorie intake than most.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow, “Is that so?” He asked, pulling out another carton of eggs from the fridge. “Does Master Peter require more snacks throughout the day as well?”

“Yes. He wasn’t always able to eat the way he should when we were living in the apartment.” Karen explained simply, moving over to the sink.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind when I order more groceries today.”

They washed their hands and Karen began to help Alfred crack the eggs.

“Remember to tap them firmly against the counter, Miss Karen. Try to make your crack as precise as possible to ensure no shell gets into your bowl.” He instructed, much to her mild annoyance.

She cracked an egg, opening it one handed and discarding the shell back into the carton, “Thank you for the reminder, but I know how to crack an egg.” 

“So I see.” Alfred said, cracking his eggs in the same manner.

The eggs were cracked in little time and Alfred allowed her to mix up the pancake batter.

When that was done, all that was left was the fruit and the meat.

Alfred took on the meat and assigned the fruit to Karen, handing her a knife with a bright red handle.

Karen studied the knife, immediately noticing the dullness.

“This knife is inefficient.” She continues to eye the knife with clear disapproval, “I’m capable of using a real one.”

“You may be capable, Miss Karen, but it is always good to take precautions. That knife will do for now.” Alfred told her, moving to the stove.

The young android continued to inspect the knife. She could feel her eyes twitching. She opened her mouth, closing it a second after, and then opened it again, “I am not a danger… if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“That is not the concern, Miss Karen. You are young. I will allow you to graduate to sharper knives as time passes.” He explained. His voice was gentle, but there was a firm edge that Karen was having a hard time processing.

She could feel her face warming and took a deep, unnecessary breath, “I am not a child.”

Alfred’s tone remained gentle as he responded, “Neither are you an adult. Therefore, the child-safe knife will do for now.”

Okay, now Karen could really feel her face heating up. She wondered what that ‘bubble’ feeling in her chest was.

She couldn’t detect any harmful chemicals in the air. The air conditioning in the manor was set at a perfect 62 degrees fahrenheit to combat the summer heat that was beginning to rise outside. There wasn’t anything, at least from what she could detect so far, that would be making her feel this way.

Was she malfunctioning? 

She knew she wasn’t. She’d know the nanosecond when something was wrong with her systems.

Another deep breath and she began to cut the fruit assortment in front of her, scanning herself over and over to try and diagnose what these new sensations were and how to get them to stop.

He’s cornered.

He’s not safe.

He’s trapped in the manor.

Bat shaped figures loom over him, cornering him in the long hallways of the Wayne Manor.

He’s in his suit but he’s never felt so powerless.

One by one, the figures pull away pieces of his suit. No matter how hard Peter tries, he can’t get them to stop. His pleas fall on deaf ears. 

They tell him they want to know who he is. What he is. That he’s an anomaly. That he doesn’t belong.

Their assault stops, however, when they notice Karen watching in the background.

A horrible feeling settles in his abdomen and Peter screams at her to run.

Everything comes crashing down and he’s stuck in the corner, watching on in horror as the figures charge at his only family.

Karen screams, unable to fight.

They rip her apart.

They heartlessly disassemble her like she’s a toy and Peter can only watch on. His pleas are ignored again. His throat feels raw.

Karen’s detached head rolls across the floor, looking at him with wide, glassy eyes.

Peter can see himself in the reflection of her lifeless eyes.

Not as himself, but as a faceless void.

He screams, but there’s no noise this time.

He’s not cornered.

He is safe.

He’s in the manor.

Peter repeats those three things in his head.

He’d woken up crammed in a far corner in the ceiling of his guest room. His body is still on high alert despite there being no danger and he can’t get himself to unstick from the ceiling.

He can feel that his face is wet. He must’ve been crying in his sleep.

No one is cornering him.

He’s safe.

He’s in Wayne Manor.

He hasn’t given anyone any reason to hurt him or Karen.

The Waynes have shown no signs of malice.

His Spidey sense would warn them if there ever was any malice.

It was just a nightmare. He’s had plenty of those and he’ll have plenty more.

A knock sounds at his door and Peter remains silent, watching as the door slowly opens and a familiar face pokes his head in, “Peter?”

Peter was surprised that Duke hadn’t freaked out when he finally saw that he was looming on the ceiling like some kind of creature, but Peter had to remember that this wasn’t a normal family. He’d probably learned how to look at strange shit with a straight face.

This probably wasn’t even the weirdest thing that Duke had seen, being part of a vigilante family.

“Oh… hey, Peter. You alright?” Duke asked, keeping his voice steady, “I heard a bit of movement so I wanted to check on you.” That was kind of a lie. Duke had heard a lot of movement before he decided to get up silently praying that it wasn’t Karen making all the noise.

Peter didn’t speak or move. He only stared at the older teen, blinking and trying to remind his body where he was.

He was at Wayne Manor.

He was safe here.

Bruce Wayne had opened his home to them.

If there was any real danger, his Spidey sense would warn him.

And now that Peter was starting to come to, he noticed that this was the quietest his Spidey sense had been since he’d gotten to Gotham.

Sure, it had lessened when he was at the apartment that Jason had found for them, but it was an ever-present being despite being in the safer part of Gotham.

“Peter?” Duke’s voice reached his ears again and Peter blinked himself out of his thoughts. He looked over at his bed, noticing that a certain someone was nowhere to be found in the room.

“Yes?”

Duke craned his neck to look up at him, “You alright?”

Peter nodded, “Yeah.”

“Then why are you on the ceiling like some creature?” When Peter didn’t answer right away, Duke squinted, his eyes were teasing but a deep understanding shined through, “You have a nightmare?”

Peter nodded, “Yeah.”

They both stared at each other for a moment and Duke raised an eyebrow at the younger teen, “Uh… you’re gonna have to get down, man.” He said, his tone a bit humorous.

Oh.

“Right.” Peter agreed, dropping to the ground.

He stepped over to Duke, rubbing away the tiredness from his face with a long sigh, “I didn’t wake you, did I?” He hoped he hadn’t.

“You did, but it’s fine!” Duke said.

Peter knew he shouldn’t be embarrassed, but he still felt heat creeping in his cheeks. Having nightmares was something everyone had. Some more than others. And Peter had to remind himself that it was only normal that he’d likely have them more often since he’d been more stressed given his current predicament.

“...Sorry for waking you.” 

“It’s fine, Ben.” Duke repeated, more firmly this time like he was scolding Peter for apologizing. “Trust me, you’re not the only person in this house that has woken me up while having a nightmare. That’s a common occurrence here.”

“...Ok…” Peter wasn’t sure if that made him feel any better.

Duke watched him for a moment. He obviously wanted to say something but was fighting on whether he should say it or not. After a few seconds, he sighed and bit the bullet, “The cut you had yesterday is already healed.” He commented, “Accelerated healing?” He knows Bruce had told him the night before to not ask a lot of questions, but he wanted to test the waters.

Peter touched his face where the cut had been and nodded, “Yeah.”

“So the whole ‘sticking to walls’ thing came with that too?” Duke remembered his DNA results from last night, “As a part of the spider thing?”

Peter paused, blinking. “When did you look at my DNA results?” Duke wasn’t with them last night, so he must’ve looked later into the night well after Peter had fallen asleep.

Duke shrugged, looking a bit guilty, “Tim and I might’ve snuck into the Batcave last night-”

“You guys call it the Batcave ?” Peter asked, thoroughly unimpressed.

Duke shrugged again, “There’s bats in there.”

When Peter’s stomach growled, Duke gestured for the door, “Alfred should almost be done with breakfast, let’s go.”

“...Ok…” Peter remained silent as they descended down the stairs, but Duke kept talking and Peter was forever grateful that he didn’t press him for any long winded answers.

“Tim and I were thinking about going to the mall today to get the lego set you recommended at school. Want to come along?”

He thought about it for a moment, the heavenly smell of breakfast wafting to his nose and brightening his mood, “Yeah… Yeah, I’ll come.” He hadn’t been able to do anything truly fun besides hanging out with the Wayne family. Legos always alleviated whatever stress he was experiencing.

“Good morning, Master Ben and Master Duke. Breakfast will be ready in about 20 minutes.” Alfred said when he noticed them come into the large kitchen, “Help yourselves to some fruit while you wait. Miss Elizabeth worked hard to cut them.”

Peter looked over and couldn’t stop himself from laughing in surprise.

Karen was standing on a step stool, chopping up the last bit of fruit with a child safe knife. Her cheeks, that were once pale as porcelain, were tinged pink. It was subtle, but unmistakable.

Duke chuckled, eyeing Karen with a little unease, “Are you blushing?” She was surprisingly much less creepy when she actually emoted like a person, Duke noticed.

She stiffened ever so slightly at Duke, “No.”

Peter squinted at her, stepping closer to stand beside her and leaning to look at her face up close, “She is.” He confirmed, surprise laced in his voice. Who knew that Karen could blush? “Why are you using a baby knife?” Peter asked, knowing that was the source of her embarrassment that she could, apparently, experience.

Just as he’d predicted, Karen’s blush grew ever so slightly despite her face remaining somewhat neutral.

“Mr. Pennyworth insisted.” She explained and her voice oddly sounded a bit strangled (?). “I’d appreciate it if you'd both stop laughing at me.”

“We’re not.” Duke and Peter said at the same time. Duke had actually stopped laughing, the smile on his face wiped from existence. 

Karen pointed the baby knife at Peter accusingly, “You’re smiling. Stop it.”

Peter made no effort to stop smiling, “Well maybe I’m just happy to see you.”

Karen made a visible effort to look away, putting her attention back on the last of the fruit. “Incorrect. Your expression is condescending.”

“This is just affectionate teasing, Liz,” Peter grabbed a piece of fruit and popped it in his mouth, “Very different vibes.”

Karen didn’t respond, finishing up her task without another word.

Peter sat at the breakfast nook with Duke. Karen joined them minutes later once she washed her hands, giving them both a small bowl of fruit. 

Breakfast was ready soon after and once Peter, Duke and Karen had their plates made, the rest of the manor began to trickle in. They each showed varying levels of tiredness as Alfred gave them their plates.

Damian and Cass were the most awake. They weren’t even in their pajamas anymore and their hair was already done. They were obviously morning people and well rested. In fact, Peter was surprised that Cass looked so well rested despite having patrol the night before.

Dick and Steph were half asleep. They both slouched in their seats at the breakfast nook, blinking blearily as they ate away at their plates.

The last two to come in, or rather be dragged in by Alfred, were Tim and Bruce. They had to be the most ‘not morning’ looking people that had ever not morninged (does that make sense, i don’t care).

Bruce was in a thin navy robe, hair a bit messy and his Batman themed slippers were on the wrong feet. He barely had his eyes open and stubbornly sipped away at the coffee that Alfred gave him. Unlike the others, Bruce didn’t sit at the nook and instead leaned on the island in the middle of the kitchen, talking with Alfred about adult things that Peter didn’t care to eavesdrop on.

Tim was no better. The pale teen’s hair looked like a bird's nest and he wouldn’t stop laying his head on the table no matter how many times Alfred chastised him to get up. He begged for something called a Zesti but Alfred continued to deny him of the beverage from the island, offering water or juice instead.

Was this what it was like every weekend morning?

It was quiet, but there was an organized chaos to it all.

And with the quiet, came Peter’s thoughts that sat at the back of his mind.

How long until Peter and Karen became a part of this?

Were they already a part of this?

Did Peter even want to be a part of this?

He had his own family, in his own dimension. And he missed them dearly. He’d start crying if he thought about them too hard. He’d have to make sure he didn’t get too attached to save himself the heartache.

The Waynes were temporary.

He needed to get home.

Bruce finally sat at the stools provided at the island, taking his plate from Alfred with a soft thank you. He was more awake now and glanced over at the nook, taking in the scene before focusing on Karen. “I heard you helped Alfred with breakfast this morning.”

Karen, who was drinking the last of her apple juice, nodded, “Yes.”

“Thank you for that. You did an excellent job cutting the fruit.”

Duke and Peter both chuckled.

“Yeah, even with the baby knife.” Peter said, jumping in his seat when he felt Karen kick him. He couldn’t even be mad, she’d definitely learned that from him.

Bruce raised an eyebrow, “Baby knife?” A flash of recognition reached his blue eyes and a small smile reached his lips, “Oh, the knife with the red handle.”

Stephanie laughed at that, voice still groggy with sleep, “The ‘baby knife’ hasn’t made an appearance in years, I can’t believe Alfred made you use it, K.” The rest of the table dissolved into quiet chuckles, even Damian was smirking into his teacup.

And Karen really didn’t like that.

Her face burned hot again, the unwanted flush returned and she kicked Peter again.

“It was actually Damian’s.” Bruce admitted calmly.

“Father!” Damian exclaimed.

“Oh? So it was your knife?” Peter asked Damian, who was now scowling. He rested his chin in his hands with shining eyes, “I’d love to hear the story of why Damian had to use a baby-knife.” 

“Do not tell him!”

Bruce ignored Damian’s protests, sniffing indifferently, “The knife was part of a behavioral protocol that I introduced when someone kept putting knives into people’s legs unnecessarily.”

Peter thought he’d be more surprised, but Damian had an edge to him so he wasn’t shocked to hear that Damian was a little bloodthirsty when he was younger. He was shocked, however, to hear that Damian had been Robin for longer than he’d thought.

I mean, sure, he’d started Spider-Manning at 14, but it seemed crazy for someone without powers to start being a vigilante at a younger age.

“Wait… so how long have you been Robin so far?” Peter asked. He’d read up about Batman and the Robins when they were stalking him. There wasn’t any official information on them, just a ton of reddit pages and articles filled with speculations and anecdotal accounts.

There was more speculation about the past Robins. Most people seemed to believe that there’d been about four in the past, with numerous noticing that there was now a new Robin within recent years. Which Peter now knew was Damian.

“About 3 years. I started when I was ten. And the knife thing only happened one time.” Damian glowered, ears now red.

Dick made a noise of disagreement, “Ehhh, more like five times. In one night.”

More laughter bloomed through the nook. As the teasing shifted to Damian, Karen could feel the heat leaving her face and the tension in her back settle. She looked over to Bruce with a hint of surprise in her eyes.

Bruce didn’t look back at her, but there was a glint in his eyes as he sipped his coffee.

When everyone was done eating, Alfred collected their dishes. Bruce stepped out, telling everyone that he’d be in his office for most of the day. Cass left shortly after, saying that she was going for her morning walk.

Dick suddenly perked up, an idea popping in his head. “You guys are gonna need more clothes. How about we take a trip to the mall?” He asked their newest residents. A shopping trip would be the perfect way to get to know them.

“Yes! Yes, let’s!” Steph cheered, no longer tired.

“Too loud.” Tim whined.

Duke answered for Peter, “Tim and I were already going to take him to the Lego store, but we can take Peter to get some clothes afterwards.”

Peter tried to decline the kind offer, “No thanks! Karen and I don’t need more clothes. We just need to get our clothes from our apartment.” They needed the rest of their belongings as well. It was Saturday today but they’d need their school stuff for when they had to go back to the Academy.

“You don’t have to worry about that.” Dick said. “Jason texted me earlier. He said he was going to bring your stuff from the apartment later.”

Oh.

Of course. They all knew where he lived.

“Ok… tell him I said thanks.”

“Will do. He also asked where your suit is.”

Peter stilled at that. He’d almost forgotten that they knew he was Spider-Man. He cleared his throat, “It’s… It’s in a hidden compartment under the bathroom sink on the bottom left side behind the drain cleaner.” It wasn’t the best hiding place, but it was the only place Peter could think to hide it while he tried to figure out when he’d be able to get the materials to fix it.

After Dick sent a quick text to Jason, he glanced back at Peter, “Would you be ok with me taking Karen to get more clothes while you shop with Tim and Duke?”

The brown-haired teen nodded after a moment, “As long as she’s ok with that.”

Karen nodded at them, “I’m fine with that. New clothing will increase my personal comfort which in turn would encourage social integration and positively impact my mental health capacity.”

“Riiight.” Dick agreed with a smile.

They turned their attention to Steph, who was now laughing to herself. There was a new light shining in her eyes as she eyed Karen and Peter had a feeling that nothing good could come from a look like that.

“Why’re you looking at her like that?” He asked cautiously.

Steph didn’t answer immediately, her smile growing as she rubbed her hands together like a fly, “Ooh, this will be legendary. Karen has the perfect dollcore face.”

Damian’s nose scrunched, setting his tea down with an offended scoff, “Karen is not a doll, Brown!” He couldn’t believe she had the audacity. “This isn’t one of your dress up games.”

“She looks like one, though! We must use this opportunity to unlock her true potential.” Steph argued, gesturing to Karen who was looking between them, “A few frills and she’ll be unstoppable!”

Peter paled at the thought, “Uh, actually I agree with Damian-please don’t dress Karen up like a doll.” The world wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready. “Let’s just dress her up like a normal kid. Hell, I’ll even put a bow in her hair for compromise.” Peter tried, but Steph wasn’t listening.

“But think of the possibilities! Bruce would never say no again! The word no wouldn’t exist for Karen! We’d have the world at our hands.”

Damian looked disgusted, “We will not be using Karen as a failsafe for Father.”

The mall in Bristol was huge and filled to the brim with expensive shops that were definitely for people that lived in a different wealth bracket that Peter would never be able to touch.

Damian had decided to tag along to thwart Stephanie’s efforts of turning Karen into a living doll.

Stephanie had dragged them all straight to an upscale children’s boutique called Dove and Dandelion, a store that specialized in softer aesthetics. A perfect haven for rich moms that wanted to treat their children like dolls and the perfect place for Stephanie to create the perfect weapon.

Now, Karen was standing on a low platform in front of a three-way mirror towards the back of the huge store. Her arms remained at her sides, completely still as she studied her image.

Steph had started off strong.

Karen was wearing a pastel pink babydoll dress with puffy tulle sleeves. The dress was made to be short so she was wearing a pair of ivory bloomers underneath. To match with the soft aesthetic, Steph had paired the outfit with mid-calf socks that had frills at the top with pink ballet shoes.

Dick had chosen the cutest (cringiest and biggest) bow to put in her hair, but Karen outright refused to have her hair messed with.

But even without the added hair accessory, Karen… was absolutely adorable. If you looked up dollcore on Pinterest, her picture would be the first to show up.

Even the employees were watching, pretending to be busy.

Stephanie clapped her hands together, “Doesn’t she look perfect?” She had Karen turn around to face them, gesturing to the entire outfit with grandiose, “Pink. Pastel. Perfectly coordinated. And most importantly, adorable!”

“It is very cute.” Dick commented. “But it’s not casual.”

Damian nodded in agreement,  glad that someone had some sense.

Karen studied herself in the mirror, blinking at the outfit as her eyebrows slowly shifted downwards, “This won’t work. My mobility is compromised, the puff sleeves obstruct my peripheral vision and this shade of pink is far too warm for my skin tone.” It just wasn’t optimal.

Stephanie looked like a kicked puppy, “But… you look so cute. Can we just get it anyway?”

Karen shook her head, “No. That would be a waste of money.”

The employee that had been attending to them, Rochelle, walked up to them with an understanding smile, “First outfit was a bust?” She asked, chuckling when she received a wave of nods, “Well, Dad, is there anything your daughter is specifically looking for? I’d be glad to help pick out a few items.”

They all snapped their heads to Dick, who was now blushing and trying to laugh off the mistake, “Oh, uh-” He cleared his throat, “I’m not her dad.” God, it hurt to say that. Dick knew it shouldn’t’ve, but sue him for feeling a bit paternal towards his future kids.

Rochelle faltered in surprise, spewing out a quick apology, “Oh! I’m so sorry for assuming! I just-”

“It’s fine!” Dick interrupted, “Uh-why-.... Why don’t you try asking what Karen wants? I’m sure she’ll be able to give you a better idea of what she’s looking for.”

Rochelle nodded, smiling warmly at Karen and crouching down to address her, “What are you looking for today, sweetheart?” Her tone was sweet as honey.

Karen blinked at Rochelle with unflinching clarity, tilting her head, “Something practical but psychologically soothing. No scratchy fabrics or excessive frills and I’d prefer softer colors in a cool or neutral tone.” She paused, blinking as she thought, “And I’d like to not look so… childish. Hair accessories such as headbands and small bows are fine.”

Rochelle blinked, obviously not expecting such a young looking child to give such a thorough description, “Oh…kay. Soft, practical, not babyish, cool and neutral tones.” She listed off to herself, giving Dick a slightly exasperated look, “She knows what she wants, huh?”

Dick chuckled, giving her a small smile, “Yup! Makes your job easier, right?”

“I would also prefer pants. I like clothes that allow mobility so that I can run. Just in case.”

Steph tilted her head, “In case of what?”

Karen shrugged, “Unclear, but it is good to be prepared.”

Damian nodded enthusiastically at that. 

Preparedness was always good.

When Karen stepped away with the employee, Dick threw a hand over his eyes with reserved distress as Stephanie laughed. She was never going to let him live this down.

*

The next stop, that was Karen’s personal request, was the bookstore.

Dick carried her basket, watching as the young girl lightly traced her fingers along the spines of the books as she walked through the shelves.

She picked up a science fiction book and placed it in the basket.

Dick tilted his head, “You like science fiction?” All her other books had various genres in non-fiction. So it surprised him when she finally picked up a book that wasn’t based in fact.

Karen kept scanning through the books, “That one is for Peter.” She answered, “He likes it more than me.”

Dick made a noise of understanding, “So… you two are adopted, right? Or are you guys half-siblings?” He knew questions were supposed to be off limits right now, but he knew he could get more answers from Karen than Peter.

Karen paused, still not looking at him, “You saw our DNA results.” She didn’t say it with any type of distrust. It was just blunt.

Dick clears his throat at the directness, “Yeah… we did… it's part of protocol, with new people.”

“I understand.” Karen said, picking up another book, “We’re adopted siblings.”

Dick watches her for a moment. There’s no hesitation in her tone, no flicker of doubt. But there’s something in the way she answered. It was so precise. It made it hard to tell whether it’s the whole truth or not.

“How long have you two known each other?” He asks gently, letting Karen place the book in the basket.

“I’ve known Peter my whole life.”

Dick nodded. That made sense. “And… what about your bio parents? Where are they?” Since Karen’s DNA is abnormal, it didn’t have any matches with anyone despite appearing human. He’d never seen anything like it and wondered if Karen would be willing to share why that was.

She thought of Tony. He was her creator, which technically meant he was her father. But there was no Tony Stark here. She’d checked. “Not here.”

“We’re not trying to trick you or Peter. You don’t have to keep things a secret. We can help you two out.”

Karen looks at him then, hazel eyes surprisingly sharp, “I am fully aware of that, Dick.” She says, “But Peter wishes to stay quiet, so I will respect his wishes, even if I don’t understand.”

Peter was scared. Scared of what exactly? She wasn’t sure. Perhaps that was another flaw in her ever-adapting systems.

But another part of her felt frustrated.

She knew there was more tech that Bruce was hiding. But she wouldn’t be able to figure out what until Peter gave her the go ahead to hack into the Batcomputer and he’d given her strict orders to not do so until he said otherwise.

“But you guys would tell us if you felt unsafe with us or if you were in any danger?” 

“Yes.” Karen said, dropping another book in the basket.

*

Peter’s jaw was dropped.

He’d never seen such a huge Lego store in his life. The one near Queens could never compare.

The store was bright and loud, bursting with a rainbow of colors and motions as children dragged their parents to the latest Lego sets that sat in gleaming displays.

Peter couldn’t help himself and damn near levitated over to the Star Wars section of the store with Tim and Duke following behind him.

Tim pointed to two boxes with a confused frown, “What’s the difference between these Millenium Falcons?”

Peter's eyes brightened at the boxes, “So, the UCS one has, like, twice the detail compared to the regular one. It even has an interactive interior and exterior! It’s also massive , like an actual project that would take more than a weekend to build.”

Duke whistled, impressed, “How do you know all this?”

Peter crossed his arms over his chest loosely, a loose smile on his face, “Ned and I spent like two weeks building ours-” He stopped himself short, smile dimming. He hadn’t meant to say that. He didn’t even realize he was thinking about Ned until he spoke.

Tim and Duke noticed immediately, glancing at each other before looking back at Peter.

“You okay?” Tim asked, keeping his voice low but loud enough so that Peter could hear him over the noise of children and annoyed parents.

Peter nodded, a soft, forced laugh leaving him. Stop thinking about Ned. “Yeah. I’m fine… just… this place reminded me of someone.”

“Friend back home?” Duke asked.

“Yeah…”

Peter turned back to the Millenium Falcon, focusing on the smaller set. That was one of the first sets they’d ever done their last year of middle school. They’d gotten so excited when they’d finished that Peter dropped it after tripping over a pair of Ned’s shoes. 

They both had blamed each other for the ruined set and didn’t talk to each other for the whole day when they went to school the next day.

They cracked by the end of school because they had to walk back home together.

The memory was bittersweet on Peter’s tongue and he clears his throat when he remembers where he is.

“Sorry,” Peter brushed a hand over his face. Stop thinking about home.

Duke and Tim both shake their heads at him. “You don’t have to be sorry, man.” Duke tells him.

Tim gestures to the rest of the store, “Let’s just pick out a set to do tonight like we planned. And then we can go get your clothes, alright?”

Peter nods slowly, looking to the other sets. “Yeah, ok.”

They leave the store soon after, Peter holds a bag in his hand. His smile was smaller this time, but genuine.

He still missed Ned.

But for a moment, the weight of it didn’t feel quite so heavy.

Security alarms blare throughout the eerie halls of Arkham Asylum.

Flashing red lights sweep over the shattered remains of reinforced steel doors. Numerous guards shout over the radio to one another, panicked and scattered.

One guard’s voice shouts through the radio, “Sector D breached! Containment has been compromised! I repeat, containment has been compromised!”

A massive hole has been torn through the steel walls. It wasn’t broken through, it was more so tunneled through. Water drips from the now exposed pipes and thick claw marks rake across the concrete. There’s blood, but not much.

At the outer walls of Arkham, GCPD helicopters circle above in the midnight sky, spotlights combing through the darkness in search of their latest escapee. Squad cars form a perimeter just before the gates.

Near the squad cars stood the commissioner, James Gordon. He speaks into the radio with a steady voice, “All units converge on the west wing! We have a breach! I need eyes on Waylon Jones!”

They were too late.

Below in Gotham’s sewer system, something massive moves through the murky waters. Fast and deliberate.

Something is chasing it and the escaped reptilian tries to evade. It just got free and something wants to imprison it all over again.

A pained roar and silence follows.

*

Clouds cover the night sky. The moon barely shines past the grey mounds.

Bruce sits in his office, looking through some routine paperwork for the night.

His phone rings and he picks up, frowning at the Caller ID, “James.” He greets. James never calls unless something serious has happened.

“I’m sure you’ve already heard but Croc’s gone. He escaped just a few hours earlier around midnight, but here’s the thing,” A pause as James sighed, “We had a blood trail, but it stopped abruptly in the sewers. It's like he vanished.”

Bruce furrowed his brows. 

That was strange. A big guy like Waylon doesn’t just disappear, not without some help.

“We think someone took him and whoever it was, knows what they’re doing. We think that whoever took him planned his entire escape.” Gordon explains.

Bruce brings a hand to his chin, “But who’d want him?” He thought aloud.

Waylon being used as a killing machine wasn’t new, but it was dangerous. And no one would break into Arkham for a guy called the Killer Croc unless they were planning something. And whatever they were planning couldn’t be good.

Thunder rumbles in the distance.

“I’ll have Oracle look into it.” They’d both be staying up tonight.

Curt entered his dark apartment. It's cluttered, obviously. Old notebooks with written notes, biology books and family photos sit on his long desk in his room. A dusty prosthetic arm lays slumped in one of his old end tables.

He drops his keys and slumps into his bed, burying his face into his hands.

He couldn’t believe that Norman had thrown all their work to the side just like that. Ten plus years of work was just going to be stopped just like that.

The sound of an email notification dings from his laptop. He looks over, confused.

Who would be emailing him this late at night?

He walks over, flicking on the screen and squinting when he sees that the email he’d received is encrypted. There’s no sender.

He clicks on the email.

Dr. Connors. We’ve followed your work for years with great interest.

Curt sits at his desk, leaning in.

We are not bound by the same limitations as Oscorp’s board.

We see and believe the potential your research has. It can be more. It will be more. All you need is the right subject, which we’re happy to provide.

If you’re ready to move forward, we will be in touch.

The cursor blinks once, then twice and the screen goes black.

When Curt flickers the screen back on, the email is gone without a trace. As if it never existed.

Curt looked down at his arm where it ended at the elbow.

What a great question, Norman, he thought bitterly.

Did he want validation or results ?

Chapter Text

A few hours after the shopping trip, Jason had come to the manor to return Peter and Karen’s belongings to them from their apartment. Everything they owned had been packed into two duffle bags and their school bookbags.

He ruffled Peter’s hair and nodded in greeting to Karen when they met just on the front stairs of the manor.

“You guys doing well so far?” He asked them, tone serious, “I know Dick can be a little much at times. Just say the word and I’ll break you out of here.”

Peter chuckled, but shook his head, “No, it's been a little awkward but we’re okay.” Dick’s only crime for the day had been awkward hovering. He obviously wanted to be around Peter like everyone else but was trying to give Peter his much needed space.

“Is he lying?” Jason asked Karen teasingly.

Shaking her head, Karen looked through her bag and pulled out her sketchbook, “He’s not lying, but now that you’re here-“ She flipped open the book and turned it towards Jason, “What do you think?”

Jason stared at the drawing for a moment before shifting his gaze to the waiting child, “You were just kidnapped this past weekend and the first thing you ask me is what I think of your drawing?”

“I attempted to draw a periwinkle but with the head of a bird.” She explained, even though Jason hadn’t asked.

He blinked, clearly confused now, “Periwinkle? Like the color?”

Now Karen was looking at him like he was stupid, “No, as in the invasive mollusks that inhabit the North Atlantic.”

Peter sent Jason an apologetic smile, “Just tell her what you think. Drawing has become an important endeavor for her.”

Jason looked at the drawing again, apprehensive, “It’s… well drawn. I’m just not understanding why you made the choices you did.”

Karen turned the drawing back to herself, “Peter recommended that I sketch random objects. Periwinkles and birds came to mind the day before we were kidnapped.”

“Right.” Jason answered, shaking his head to himself when Karen went back into the manor. “I’ll see you guys later, alright?”

Peter nodded, “Thanks, Jason.”

As Jason made his way back to his bike, he looked back over his shoulder, “And I was being serious, Peter.” He said, “If you guys need to get away, just call me. I’ll drop whatever I’m doing and come get you. I know the first weeks in the manor can be the hardest.”

Peter felt a pang at the back of his throat.

Why were they so good at this?

Making him feel so welcomed and safe? 

He’d only just begun living with the Waynes and yet, here they were making sure he and Karen were as comfortable as they could be.

A small part of him wished they would be mean so it would be easier to leave when the time came.

He nodded again and went inside.

Only to be greeted with Karen holding Duke hostage.

She was showing him the periwinkle drawing and he was visibly uncomfortable.

And Peter understood. 

The drawing was well done but it was creepy. 

The head of the bird was inching out of a small shell in Karen’s drawing and the bird’s eyes were practically lifeless. It was as if someone had stuffed the bird into the shell rather than it actually being one with the shell.

“What do you think, Duke?” Karen asked, inching closer when Duke tried to step back.

“Is this going to be a thing from now on?” He asked the staring android. “I just wanted to go to the game room and now you’re subjecting me to disturbing imagery.”

“You can, just tell me what you think of my drawing and where I can improve.” Karen told him, as if that were the most obvious answer.

“It’s… it's nice. It's so nice.” Duke tried. “I would add more yellow?”

Karen decided that answer was good enough and snapped her head over to Alfred, who was currently wiping down all the windows in the manor.

Duke made his great escape when she made her way to the butler.

“Alfred, what do you think?” She stopped in front of him, holding up the book towards him.

Alfred took the sketch book, holding the drawing closer to him as he considered the artwork before him. He raised a greying eyebrow and looked back down at Karen, giving her back the book. “It is very well drawn, Miss Karen. The shading of the mollusk is marvelous. You should show the others.”

Karen nodded, hurrying away to find her next victim.

The mechanical whirr of machinery filled the open space of the cave, a soft blue hue overtook the area from the overhead monitors.

The Iron-Spider suit hangs suspended in a containment frame. It’s still damaged, shredded, torn and burned in various areas. There are holographic overlays mapping out its internal systems as it’s scanned.

After Alfred had given them back their clothes freshly washed and folded, he personally handed Peter the suit pod and Tim, who was naturally nosey, had noticed it and suggested that they take it to the Batcave to get fixed up.

Peter stands a few feet away from the containment frame, eyeing the damaged areas with a frown.

Bruce watches silently, reading the data on the monitor as Tim types rapidly at the console. His blue eyes are narrowed and his expression is somewhere between awe and suspicion.

He finally stops typing after a while and Peter turns towards him. “This is some extremely advanced tech. It’s not like anything we have.” He starts, looking over his shoulder to Bruce, “It’s nanotech and it comes with the full package. Nanite materialization, self-contained protection from environments, energy efficiency systems, artificial intelligence, you name it.”

Bruce and Tim look at Peter and the older man finally speaks, voice deliberate, “This kind of tech isn’t just given to a teenage vigilante, Peter.”

Peter shrugs, unsure of what to say, “It’s not like I personally asked for it. I was given it so I wouldn’t die.” He admitted cryptically.

Tim frowned, “Die from what?”

Peter shook his head, “That’s a story for later.” He sighed, looking back to the suit, “And besides, you guys don’t need to worry. You don’t have nanotech here, so the suit won’t be as advanced as it was before.” And don’t even get him started on having to build another charging port for the suit.

“What about the AI? What if someone gets access to it?” Bruce presses.

Peter bristles, “They won’t. They can’t.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” 

“And you’re sure there’s no way for it to gain sentience?”

Peter guessed they must’ve had some horrible experiences with AIs going rogue in the past. He was mildly offended that they would speak about Karen like this, but he couldn’t be mad. Tony had told him about Ultron and he remembered seeing stuff on TV and hiding with Aunt May in their small storage closet during the attack. 

However, he couldn’t and wasn’t exactly sure how he would tell them that their worry about his AI gaining sentience had already happened.

“I’m sure. Rogue AIs aren’t really a common thing where I’m from.” A small lie. Peter had only just become an unofficial member of the Avengers. He wasn’t sure if rogue AIs were a normal thing or not.

Bruce narrows his eyes a little, but he drops the subject. He knows that Peter won’t give him the answers he wants right now.

Instead, he focuses on the suit again, “We can work with this. Most of the damage was on the chest plate and the back. We’ll add kevlar and Nomex and layer it where the nanotech can’t.”

Peter nods, “Ok… when would the suit be ready?”

“Next week.” Bruce said, arms behind his back, “But you won’t be starting patrol until you get a few training sessions in.”

Peter paused at that, “Training?” 

Tim nodded with Bruce, “It’s just to see where you’re at skillswise.” Tim explained, “Most of us didn’t really start being Robin until around 12-13. We don’t know when or how long you’ve been Spider-Man and just telling us doesn’t give us the best idea. It’s easiest if you have a few training sessions so we can see first hand.”

A slow nod from Peter. He understood but he’d been hoping to get back to Spider-Manning as soon as possible. But it was for the best the more he thought about it.

Gotham was not Queens. And sure, he’d been to space and fought an alien, but we all know how that ended. Gotham didn’t have the same enemies or problems as Queens. It was far more dangerous and he didn’t want to go out blind.

Bruce and the others would be able to teach him and he trusted that they’d be able to teach him.

“We’ll start later in the week. Get some sleep. Both of you.”

Tim groaned, but left behind Peter.

Peter and Karen had officially spent their first weekend at the manor and now they were off to school, riding in the only SUV that Bruce owned that could hold all of them comfortably.

Dick, of course, stayed behind at the manor while Bruce went off to Wayne Enterprises for a meeting he couldn’t avoid.

But Dick was going to be busy today too.

Today, he had to call ‘Tony Stark’ and talk to him about transferring guardianship to Dick.

Dick knew there wasn’t much use pondering but he couldn’t help but wonder who this mystery guy was. Where was he? Was he even in Gotham? Or had he been dropped off in a different state? I mean, yeah, his file said that he was out of the country, but Dick didn’t know if he thought that was true.

And if he had been dropped off elsewhere via magic portal, why didn’t he come to get Peter and Karen? Why leave them in Gotham of all places? 

Dick paced in Bruce’s home office for a while, before he finally calmed his mind and clicked the call button on his phone screen.

He heard two rings before someone picked up.

“Hello, this is Tony Stark speaking.” A male voice reached Dick’s ears. It held a blend of confidence and sarcasm that Dick hadn’t been expecting to hear.

“Hey. This is Dick Grayson… but something tells me you already knew that.” Tony didn’t respond to that so Dick kept talking, “I called today because I’m sure you’ve noticed that Peter and Karen now live at Wayne Manor with my family.”

“Yes.”

“And since their apartment is no longer safe, I wanted to know if you were going to be able to come back and get them? Considering everything that’s happened in the past few days.”

More silence followed and Dick pursed his lips as he awaited a response, “I wouldn’t be able to, unfortunately. But I do know that you have court papers ready to transfer guardianship. Just email them to me and I’ll make sure everything is signed before 12 PM.”

Dick blinked down at his phone, “You’re just gonna hand them over. Just like that?” No questions, no objections, no hesitation. Dick couldn’t believe what was happening right now. 

“Well, they’re safer with you, Mr. Grayson.” Tony’s voice was quieter now. He obviously understood how bad he looked, but he didn’t sound very ashamed and that only pissed off Dick even more.

He’s pacing again, jaw tight. “So let me get this straight,” He started, voice controlled, but furious, “You knew two brilliant, traumatized kids-that you apparently have custody of- got dropped into one of the most dangerous cities in America with absolutely nothing but the clothes on their backs and now you’re just giving them to me?”

“The situation wasn’t the best, but they got what they needed to survive-”

“They didn’t need to survive ! They needed a well-meaning adult! They probably wouldn’t have been kidnapped if you’d been-” He stops himself, trying to even out his breathing. “You left two kids to play parent with one another when they’re both lost. What the hell is wrong with you? What kind of guardian are you? What are they to you ?!”

Dick had plenty of time to think about what he wanted to say and what he thought was really going on. He knew it was unlikely that Tony would tell the whole truth, but Dick knew that whatever was going on wasn’t good.

“It’s a complicated situation, Mr. Grayson.”

“I’m sure it is.” Dick bit, “I don’t care if you’re struggling or not because I don’t even think you are. I just want you to tell me one thing.”

“What?”

“Did you send them here?”

“No.”

“Really? You didn’t?” Dick asked mockingly, “Then why the hell do they know about and have direct connections to Oscorp?” Sure, Peter and Karen hadn’t outright said anything about what they knew of Oscorp, but the signs were there.

Mary Parker’s research was an obvious cause of Peter's abnormal DNA results and his reaction only told them that he hadn’t had the best experiences with the company. Dick could only imagine the horror that Peter had gone through.

More silence.

“They weren’t sent on a mission. They’re not soldiers.”

“I would have believed you if Peter hadn’t shown up with the injuries of one.” Dick hissed, he hoped that Tony could feel his scrutinizing glare. “He told us that he’d almost died.” He clenched his free hand into an angry fist remembering what Tim had told him about Peter’s suit saving him from dying.

“You don’t have to trust me, Mr. Grayson… but I trust you and your family. Peter and Karen are safer with you than with anyone else. That’s why I have no problem letting them go.”

Dick felt his mouth sour, “I don’t even know why I called. You would’ve let me have them even if I hadn’t called… I can’t help but think that you wanted this.” 

A long silence.

“I already had the custody papers electronically signed. This will be the first and last time you hear my voice. I will continue to help Peter when he starts being Spider-Man again. Goodbye.”

There’s a click when the line goes dead.

* * *

“Karen?”

Karen blinked back to the present at the sound of her name, finding her image staring back at her in the bathroom mirror.

This was a horrible plan, just as she'd warned Peter.

She hadn’t expected Dick to blow up on the phone call like that, but she couldn’t exactly blame him.

It did seem like Peter and Karen had been sent here against their will for a mission of some kind. To hear him say out loud that he cared about them and was angered when he thought about their situation despite not having the full picture, made something in her chest flutter.

She stored away the feeling for now, washing her hands and stepping out of the private bathroom.

Damian stood outside, arms crossed and eyebrow raised, “What took you so long?”

Karen shrugged, “Breakfast didn’t agree with me. Why are you here?”

Damian wrinkled his nose in mild disgust, “The teacher sent me after you because you were taking too long. He was worried you’d passed out or something.”

“I didn’t. We can head back to class now.” Karen began to walk, but Damian made no move to follow. “What?”

“Who were you talking to?”

Karen blinked, tilting her head, “Myself…” The answer felt stupid as soon as it left her mouth and she wished she could take it back.

Damian narrowed his eyes, “It sounded like you were on a phone call.”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“That we know of,” Damian added, eyes still narrowed, “And not having a phone doesn’t mean you don’t have other ways of communicating with others.”

Karen watched the older boy, calculating what she would say or do next. Nothing would decrease Damian’s suspicions of her, but she needed to try.

“Could we discuss this at another time?” She found herself asking.

A long silence sat between them before Damian uncrossed his arms, “Fine. Don’t think that I’ll forget.” This week wouldn’t be the best time to ask anyways.

“Of course not.” Karen agreed. “But this doesn’t mean I’m going to reveal everything. I merely wish to clear the air of any misconceptions you might have made.” Because she grew to understand that people didn’t always function through a logical lens, like she did. Most people functioned through safety. That was especially true in Gotham. If you didn’t watch your back, you got stabbed. And Karen didn’t want Damian or any of the Waynes thinking she or Peter would stab them in the back.

Which would explain Peter's actions. She hadn't exactly felt that this whole plan of her pretending to be the third mystery person was a good one. She really wanted to tell everyone of her true nature, rather than just lying and leaving them to come to their own conclusions just as Dick had on the phone call. But Peter was too paranoid. He'd explained to her that he wasn't sure how they'd react. He was fearful that they'd do something to her.

When Damian said nothing, Karen continued.

“I don’t want you to think we’re dangerous, but the actions I take are to protect both Peter and myself.”

“Tt.” Damian clicked his tongue but he came to stand beside Karen, “Like you said, we’ll discuss later. Let’s go.”

They walked back to the classroom without uttering another word to each other.

Had Damian been his younger self, he would’ve accused her of being an imminent danger to his family, but he wasn’t as quick to action any longer. He was calmer now. Knew his place amongst his family and knew when to trust them and listen to his father.

And if Bruce said to go easy on Karen and Peter, who had only done their best to survive the hellscape that was Gotham.

Then he would.

Because deep down, even if he didn’t want to admit it out loud, he was beginning to see them as family too.

* * *

Barbara watched as Dick paced back and forth through her office, a knowing look on her face.

“I wish you could’ve heard how quickly he just gave them up, Babs-“

“I did. I was there for the entire phone call.” Barbara reminded, scrolling through her phone idly.

“I mean how could he? He didn’t even argue with me! He just threw them away like… like they were trash!”

Barbara leaned forward with a small frown, “That does suck, but maybe it's best that he didn’t fight for them. He told you that he knew they were safe here-“

“But what if he’s just saying that? What if they’re not truly free?” Dick shot out question after question, multiple variables running though his head. “He said he was still going to be in contact with them when-not if-when Peter starts his vigilante work again.”

Peter and Karen hadn’t really escaped. If they were to always be in contact with Tony, that couldn’t mean anything good.

“Dick,” Barbara sighed, “It does look bad, but you’ve forgotten something.”

Dick looked to Barbara, no longer pacing.

She smiled softly, “They have us.” 

Dick looked away for a moment before looking back to Barbara with a confident glint in his eyes.

“And if any of us think that Peter is going to go to Oscorp, we’ll stop him. But for now, you guys just need to focus on being there for them.” They’d worry more about the Oscorp stuff when the time came.

Dick took a deep breath, “You’re right.” He ran a hand through his black hair, “You’re coming to the dinner tonight, right?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” 

“Did you get anything for them?” Dick asked, mood lifting by the minute.

“I did.” She squinted at Dick, a teasing smile at her lips, “But I’m not telling you.” She sang with a cross of her arms.

Dick groaned, “Fine, be that way.”

The golden haze of the early evening sun drifted through the tall windows of the hallways, casting long rectangles of warmth across the polished floors. Karen stepped out of her room, dressed up for dinner like Alfred had told her.

She’d chosen to wear a light pink baby doll top with flared jeans and a pair of dark red mary janes.

Cassandra was standing there, silent as usual, blocking her path. She had a calm, but mischievous smile on her face. “Hey, Karen.”

“Hello, Cass.”

They stared at each other.

“Can you help me with something?”

Karen tilted her head, “What?”

“My hair.”

Karen scanned her hair, eyeing it from the roots to the ends. Nothing appeared out of place. “Your hair looks fine.”

Cass tilted her head, mirroring Karen, “Steph doesn’t agree.” She gestured to her room, “Follow me.” She opened her door. It was quiet inside, Karen could see the black vanity desk against the wall and lingered in the doorway, unsure and mildly suspicious. Cass looked back at her, still holding the door open, “You don’t have to stay, just help. Please?” She asked gently.

Karen decided there was no danger and nodded, stepping into the room.

The moment the door clicked shut behind her, a loud voice rang out.

“GOTCHA!” Steph roared, popping out from Cass's closet with a bright grin. “Now that we’ve got you, we won’t be letting you go.” She said maniacally.

Cass turned her vanity chair towards Karen, “Sit.”

“You tricked me.” Karen realized, now seated at Cass's vanity and frowning at them in the mirror. 

“Yeah, sorry.” Steph didn’t look sorry at all, running her hands through Karen’s hair as if they were precious threads of gold. “I’m thinking we curl her hair a little bit and do a half-up half-down style. What do you think, Cass?”

Cass, who was gathering the needed supplies, nodded, “Perfect.”

Once everything was collected, Steph and Cass moved like coordinated cogs in a machine. 

They made sure that Karen’s hair was brushed out and added heat protectant before they iron curled it at the ends to give her loose waves.

“Your hair is insanely smooth! I’m gonna need to know what shampoo you use.” Steph commented, playing with Karen’s hair to loosen the curled ends.

Karen didn’t bother answering. She was too busy looking at herself in the vanity mirror.

She usually didn’t bother looking at herself for long, but having her hair in a different style had her more intrigued with her reflection than usual. She slowly ran a hand through the smooth curls herself, tilting her head as she studied the rest of her features.

A real-life doll was the only thing she could think of.

Her skin was a soft pale with no freckles or blemishes and a full head of shiny, honey brown hair that was pin straight. Green-brown hazel eyes that never missed a beat, watching everything and closely studying the world around her.

Her chest felt warm.

She really was pretty. Just like Cass and Steph.

“She likes it.” Cass admitted, smiling softly as Karen admired herself.

Karen didn’t agree or disagree. She did like it. 

They weren’t being rough and they were obviously happy to be doing her hair.

Steph continued, pulling half of Karen’s hair into a ponytail and clipping a small pink bow at the base. She pulled two thicker strands of hair to frame Karen’s face and sprayed her down with hairspray.

“All done!” Steph announced, “What do you think, queen?”

Steph and Cass waited patiently as Karen continued to watch herself in the mirror.

Finally, she nodded, turning around to look at them. She had the faintest ghost of what appeared to be a smile on her lips, “I like it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” 

When Karen got out of the seat, Cass presented her with a small wrapped box. “I got you a present.”

Karen slowly took the box, “Oh.” She hadn’t been expecting to be given a gift. That fluttering feeling filled her chest and she looked at Cass, unsure.

“Open it. It’ll go with your outfit.”

Karen went back to the gift, untying the bow and lifting the top to reveal a silver necklace with a butterfly pendant that had a small bluish gemstone hanging off it.

A quick scan told Karen it was a moonstone.

One of the birthstones of June.

Karen’s birth month.

Karen’s birthstone.

“It’s beautiful.” Karen commented, but her voice was barely above a whisper.

She really hadn’t predicted this as an outcome. She knew they knew her birthday from their files but she hadn’t expected them to give her a gift that correlated with the day she’d found herself in this new body.

Karen had a hard time comprehending that they thought about her even when she wasn’t there. 

She hadn’t had a physical body when she was first made. She was just an interface within Peter’s suit. An ever present, invisible presence that helped him when he needed it. Something that could be turned off and ignored.

And now, here she was with an android body that could actually feel different sensations and experiences.

Someone that couldn’t be ignored because she had a physical presence.

For once, it was starting to become overwhelming.

She wasn’t human and wasn’t the best at acting human, and yet she was still being welcomed into this family and being given a gift.

As if she were human.

As if she were their family.

Karen’s eyes warmed and she felt water drip down her face, slow and dramatic. 

Was the ceiling leaking?

Cass and Steph both watched her, surprise etched in their faces.

And Karen realized the water was coming from her.

What a rush of feelings.

Her body was so overtaken with so many that she’d started crying.

How strange, she thought.

Her heart rate had increased, her body temperature had gone up by exactly 1.2 degrees Fahrenheit, her lips were quivering and there was an uncomfortable lump in her throat.

It was all so interesting and intense.

And all this had stemmed from a heartfelt gift.

Emotions were so confusing, Karen had decided then and there.

Before Cass or Steph could say anything, Karen held the necklace out to them, “Put it on me. I want to wear it for dinner.” Karen told them, voice shaky.

Cass smiled, surprise melting away as she took the necklace and asked Steph to hold up Karen’s hair. A few sniffs from Karen and Cass clipped the necklace on in no time.

Steph let Karen’s honey brown hair fall and smoothed it of any stray strands, “Did we overwhelm you?” She asked softly.

Karen shrugged, paused, and nodded. “Yes… but it's okay. I wasn’t sad, I’m happy.”

“They were happy tears.” Cass said and Karen nodded, wiping away the tears.

She played with the necklace, feeling the coolness of the silver sterling on her fingertips and watching how the gemstone twinkled in the light when she turned it.

It truly was beautiful.

“Do you need a moment or are you ready to go downstairs? Dinner should be ready soon.”

She saw that her eyes were a little red and puffy, but she was sure that the redness would decrease in a mannerly time. “I’m ready.”

“Ok, just freshen up in the bathroom. Put a cold hand towel just under your eyes to help with the puffiness.” Steph told her.

As soon as Karen stepped away, she pulled out her phone.

BatKidz Chat

Steph: might want to hold on gifts if u guys have any to give to Karen

Dick: why?? 

Duke: did she hate your gift @Cass?

Cass: she loved it 

Cass: she cried

Tim: Karen CRIED? like actual tears?

Cass: yes. happy tears

Jason: it must’ve really moved her if she cried

Dick: you think we’re gonna overwhelm her again?

Steph: YES so no more gifts i don’t think her little heart can handle it

Dick: i’m gonna cryy she must not be used to so much love

Damian: well she’ll know it now so please refrain from cursing us with that sight

Duke: do we think Peter will be ok with gifts??

Dick: he’s not as emotionally stunted it should be fine

Tim: we’ll know after the first gift

* * *

Peter had also been told by Alfred to be dressed for dinner, so he’d chosen to wear a blue button-up with black dress pants and brown shoes. Simple but nice. Alfred had even given him a much needed trim for his hair so it didn’t hang over his eyes anymore when it wasn’t styled.

He wasn’t sure why today’s dinner was so special and no one would tell him why when he asked.

When he saw Karen, he felt his jaw go slack for a moment, “Aww, Karen, you look nice.”

Karen felt her cheeks warm and nodded, “Thank you. You look nice as well.”

They were led to the dining room by Steph and Cass, where Peter could smell the heavenly aroma of whatever Alfred had cooked up, and froze at the sight before them.

The dining room was dressed up for celebration. The long table was set with polished silverware, flickering candles in crystal holders and warm lighting that helped the space feel intimate despite its grand size.

The rest of the family was already seated or standing, all waiting with easy smiles. Even Barbara and Jason were there. A banner hung across the back wall above them with the words: 

Welcome to the Family, Peter and Karen!

Karen blinked. Peter stared. They were both stunned.

“This is what you guys were working on all day?” Peter asked, receiving a bunch of nods

Dick walked up to them, a charming smile on his face, “The court papers were finalized earlier today,” He explained, “You guys are officially, legally , stuck with us!”

Bruce stepped forward next, “And like with every member of the family, we hold a big dinner.”

Peter smiled uneasily, shaking his head, “You didn’t have to-”

“We wanted to, Peter.” Bruce interrupted, “It’s a tradition around here.”

Jason shrugged when Peter looked at him, “Like he said, it’s tradition. We all chipped in to help in some way.”

Peter’s eyes darted around the room again, looking at all the decor and the banner. He looked at everyone that had shown up and felt a pang where his heart was.

They were too good at this.

“Thank you.”

The family gathered at the table, taking their respective seats at the long table. Peter sat between Tim and Duke, Karen between Steph and Cass. Dinner was a warm, delicious blend of Alfred’s best comfort foods: roasted vegetables, garlic butter chicken, buttery mashed potatoes and fresh baked rolls.

When dinner was finished up, dessert was next.

Alfred rolled out some of his famous, freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.

The way everyone darted for them would make you think cookies were a rare, unheard-of delicacy. Even Bruce had taken two for himself.

Peter bit into his cookie and froze. His eyes widened as he chewed what could only be described as heaven, “Oh my god,” He moaned.

“Right?” Tim said.

Karen bit into her cookie next. She chewed, tilting her head, “It’s good.” She said plainly.

Everyone snapped their heads towards the young android, some shocked, some horrified.

“Good. Good ? That’s all you have to say?” Dick asked.

Karen blinked, “What more should I say?”

Everyone at the table shared a glance and Peter shook his head.

Gifts were handed over last once dessert was over.

Peter didn’t receive one from everyone. He’d heard them whispering earlier about not wanting to overwhelm him like Karen and now he really wanted to know what happened because Karen and overwhelmed didn’t belong in the same sentence. He’d have to ask her later, but something told him she wouldn’t want to talk about it.

The gifts Peter did receive were from Barbara, Jason and Tim.

Jason gifted him a nice, expensive-looking leather jacket with a red, embroidered spider patch on the right arm. Peter knew by now to not say anything about how expensive anything looked or that he couldn’t possibly accept this. 

Rejection of gifts was a huge no-no around here.

It’d be perfect for the winter, Peter thought.

Barbara gave him a new laptop. It was a brand that didn’t exist in his dimension but he could tell it was a newer, expensive model.

And lastly, Tim had made him a robotics kit. They’d both shared their interests in robotics recently, so the kit would be the perfect activity for them to do together after school.

Peter was glad he wouldn’t be receiving anymore gifts that night. They were right to say he’d get too overwhelmed because he absolutely was.

He couldn’t believe that he’d been here, in an alternate dimension, for almost 3 months at this point and had been given a place amongst one of the richest families who were also vigilantes.

Barbara, Jason and Steph left once everyone helped to get the dining room cleaned up, refusing to let Alfred clean it up by himself and Peter found himself thoroughly exhausted.

He had started to make his way to his room, but found Karen and Damian just outside the dining room. The young android was, to Peter’s absolute shock, crying while Damian stood frozen in shock, holding out his gift to her.

Karen was a strange crier. Her face remained mostly neutral, but her eyes were red and puffy and dropping a few tears here and there. Though, Peter guessed that was to be expected since she'd never cried before today. She'd probably never experienced these emotions as harshly as she was now.

And in a way, from Peter's perspective, it was endearing. 

Karen had grown so much in these few months and she still had more growing to do.

Not wanting to ruin the moment, Peter snuck back into the dining room. He could take the longer way to the stairs.

Damian looked mildly uncomfortable, clicking his tongue, "Tt, there's no need to cry. You haven't even opened the gift yet."

Karen took the gift, carefully opening it to not tear the wrapping paper and pulled out a hand carved bird. It had it's wings mid-spread and it's head was tilted slightly as if it were studying its prey. It was incredibly detailed, clearly made by someone with hands as steady as a surgeon's. Such detail was impressive for something that fit in her hand.

Her fingers brushed against the grain of the wood, admiring the work. Slowly, her pupils contracted, scanning it in full.

"Falco peregrinus," Karen started quietly, "The fastest bird in the world. Capable of reaching speeds of 240 miles per hour in a dive." Rattling off facts seemed to be some kind of coping mechanism for the young android.

Damian looked away awkwardly when Karen's tears didn't stop, "I wasn't sure what to get you... you have plenty of books, so I chose to carve you a bird that reminded me of you." The peregrine falcon symbolized many things; precision, apex efficiency, resilience. "You're small, sharp, watchful... and something tells me you can be fast when you wish to be." He shuffled where he stood, feeling his ears warm, "I thought it fit."

"... Thank you."

Damian nodded, finally looking at her and feeling a little tension leave his shoulders when he noticed she wasn't crying anymore. "You're welcome... Welcome to the family."

Dim light filtered through thick observation glass. Scientists in clean suits moved silently around the massive, reinforced chamber at the center of the room.

A large, scaly being sat inside, shackled at the wrists, ankles and neck. His breathing is slow, heavy. His body twitches but he doesn’t rouse thanks to the sedatives being pumped into his system. His eyes twitch open, but they don’t thrash.

They watch.

In front of the chamber, stands Dr. Curt Connors with his arms folded behind his back.

In a darker corner of the room, Mary Parker hands shake as she holds them close to her chest. She can’t take her eyes off this monster as she asks, “Curt… what have you done? What is that?” A man in a business suit with an owl-shaped pin stands near the door, blocking her in.

Curt doesn’t bother to look at her, “This, my dear Mary, is the missing piece to my serum.” He gestures to the scaly figure, “Isn’t he remarkable? This level of mutation may be crude but his regenerative tissue holds the key to what I’m missing.”

Mary swallows, a pit opening in her stomach, “Where-... Where’s Norman, Curt?” She couldn’t help but notice that he wasn’t here.

Curt, finally, turned around, gaze downcast, “It doesn’t matter anymore, Mary. Just say that you’ll help me.” He begs. “Say that you’ll help me make the world right. Like we always wanted.”

Mary involuntarily shook her head, “Not like this.” She whispered, scared to say it louder. "Please, Curt, just let me leave. I won't say anything. I swear I won't say anything!"

A hard frown reached Curt's face, "Oh, don't be stupid, Mary." He hissed and she flinched back, "You've seen too much. You can try to leave but you won't live to see tomorrow." He held his hand out to her, "You said you wanted to change the world? This is it. This is your one and only chance."

Some offer, Mary found herself thinking bitterly despite how scared she was. 

"How do you know that these people won't just kill us once you perfect the lizard serum, Curt?" She asked, gesturing to the man at the door.

Curt doesn't answer. He doesn't have an answer. But it's too late for him to start questioning things too. And he didn't want to question anything now. Not when he was just given the holy grail that would help him complete his life's work.

"Mary... please."

Mary looked past Curt and to the monster reptile. It was looking right at her now and she swore in that moment she wasn't looking at a monster, she was looking at a man.

She lifted her shaky hand and put it in Curt's steady one, "Ok, Curt."

What other choice did she have?

Chapter Text

Karen was standing in the Batcave, but the more she took in her surroundings, the more she realized this wasn’t really the Batcave. 

She couldn’t hear the bats and the shadows stretched wrong. The monitors were on but they didn’t cast their usual blue screens, they were red instead and doused the entire platform she was on in a red glow.

And suddenly, the Bats were standing around her in a loose semicircle- Bruce, Dick, Damian, Tim, Duke, Cass, Steph and even Barbara.

Peter was nowhere in sight.

Karen tilted her head, “What’s going on?”

“We know what you are.” Bruce started, arms crossed. His voice was cold and hard, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Karen stilled.

“Did you really think we’d want an android in our home?” Dick asked her cruelly.

“I knew I was right to think you were creepy.” Duke added.

“You lied,” Damian accused, looking her up and down with betrayal. His expression morphed to disgust, “All this time, you’ve just been pretending.”

Karen shook her head, blinking rapidly, “No. No, I wasn’t pretending! I was being me!” She tried to explain, “I was being me as best as I could! I didn’t ask to be made this way!” A hand gripped her stomach and she suddenly felt out of breath.

It felt like there were rats scurrying around inside her. 

Why were they mad?

They’d just welcomed her in and now they were mad? 

Why were they looking at her like that?

She’d never been on the receiving end of a look. She didn’t know glares could hurt.

“I… I just wanted to be part of the family.”

Jason crossed his arms with a huff, “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not even real.”

It felt as if she’d been shot in the chest.

Not real.

She shook her head again, breath hitching, “No. Don’t say that! I am real! I’m Karen!”

Cass stepped forward, expression dark. She placed her hand over Karen’s chest, right where a heart should’ve been.

Silence.

“It’s not beating.” Cass told her heartlessly, “You can’t be real.” 

Karen tried to speak again but gasped when Cass ripped her necklace off her neck. She reached for the empty space.

This couldn’t be happening.

They were turning away now. They couldn’t bear to look at her anymore.

“This isn’t what family looks like, Karen. You tricked us.” She heard Tim say.

The screens cut off and Karen was surrounded in darkness.

The walls of the Batcave shifted unnaturally and morphed from jagged cave walls to sterile lab panels that were blindingly white. The humming of machinery filled the air.

Behind her, a table was lit up with a dark red light. Chained down to it was another version of herself.

Disassembled.

Powerless.

Dead .

“You don’t feel anything,” Steph said, voice dripping with venom. “You just copy it.”

The young android dropped to her knees, rapidly covering her ears and squeezing her eyes shut. 

“No! No! I do feel something!” She begged. “I feel everything-!”

She felt the room morph around her again. When she opened her eyes, she was strapped down to the cold, metal table.

“Take her apart.” Bruce’s voice made her circuits run cold, “It’s not like she can feel it anyways.”

*

Karen sat upright in her bed, a horrified gasp leaving her. Her systems registered a prolonged spike in her heartbeat.

Her face was wet and she frowned, wiping away the tears with a stiff hand.

What a strange simulation.

She’d never lost control of one like that before.

She climbed out of bed and quietly stepped into the hallway, staring longingly at Peter's bedroom door. She felt childish.

She wanted Peter.

But something within her scolded her. She knew it was too early, he wouldn’t be awake. And he needed sleep way more than she needed to be comforted .

How shameful, she found herself thinking.

She was an AI, she didn’t need comfort. She looked like a child, yes, but she wasn’t actually one.

She turned heel and went back into her room.

How pitiful that she would try to even think about waking Peter just because she couldn’t keep herself in check and freaked herself out over a faulty simulation?

More tears threatened to come and Karen wiped them away before they could fall. 

She was already tired of crying. Especially these type of tears. They were different from when Cass had given her her gift.

These left her… drained? Heavy? Tired? Ashamed?

Too many feelings again. She wasn’t sure if this was normal.

It all felt like one big malfunction.

How was she, an android, experiencing all this? And why couldn’t she handle it? She couldn’t be of any help to Peter like this, could she?

No.

No . 

Of course she could.

She was still an AI at the end of the day and her stats were hardly ever wrong.

Run internal calculations: Probability of actual expulsion or harm. Commence calculation.

She tapped a silent rhythm against her thigh as she scrolled through the data.

Probability of Bruce dissecting her: 0.02%

Probability of Damian rejecting her: 0.004%

Probability of Wayne Family outright rejecting her: 10.6%

Karen exhaled through her nose.

Irrational fear due to simulation. Memory flagged for emotional distortion. No threat detected.

10.6% was astoundingly low. That should’ve been enough. It was enough.

But her chest still felt tight. Her internal temperature regulators were still running just a bit too hot. 

She clenched her hands, synthetic muscle fibers tensing from the fear that wasn’t there.

Recalculate, she told herself. Just recalculate the data until you calm down. Math is rarely wrong. It’s the one universal language.

New numbers rolled in.

Whatever was in Karen’s chest skipped a beat.

Each of the stats had gone up about 10%.

“A bias error.” Karen concluded in a hushed whisper. “Run it again and filter out emotional influence.”

Emotional influences unable to be filtered. Current anxiety level exceeds threshold. Cognitive distortion is likely.
Results may be unreliable.

Maybe she should wake Peter.

There’s no way this was normal.

She was malfunctioning.

She stepped out of her room again and was met with a half-awake, worried Peter.

“Karen?” Peter blinked blearily at her, “What’s wrong? Why are you up?” His voice was oh so gentle and Karen asked herself why that made her want to fall apart more. It wasn’t like this was new, he’d always treated her like a child; like his little sister. She hadn’t cared and was even a little annoyed with the childish treatment.

Why was she reacting so strongly now?

Peter eyed the young android, eyes darting over her entire body. He’d never seen Karen like this. She seemed so…

Small.

Unsure.

Scared.

That wasn’t like the Karen he knew.

In the last two and a half months, Karen had never been scared or unsure of herself.

Something had changed.

“C’mere,” He called quietly, leading her into his room when she’d finally stalked forward.

In the privacy of his room, Peter got down to be level with Karen before he even realized what he was doing. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked again, but it was like Karen couldn’t hear him.

Her hands shook at her side, still clenched, and he took them in his own. He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, trying to get her to truly see him.

A distant part of his mind recognized how strange this was. He’d never thought he’d be having to ground an android who could, apparently, have panic attacks.

“I-I’m breaking .” Karen croaked. Her systems were going haywire. Nothing was calculating the way it should have and everything was just a swirl of chaos. There was no more order or logic to anything within her.

And to add to her embarrassment, there were more damn tears.

Peter clenched her hands in his, a firm, grounding action, “Karen…” He rose to stand, still holding one of her hands, “Let’s take a walk, okay? Count your steps.” The manor was huge, one lap around should be enough to help Karen calm down.

The lap around the manor was quiet, but Peter could tell Karen had calmed considerably.

When the walk was over and they were back in Peter’s room, Karen was ready to talk.

She looked at Peter with an unreadable expression, “I’m changing and I don’t like it. My calculations came out wrong in response to my internal bias… and it scared me.”

Peter slowly nodded, taking in her words. “Calculations for what?”

“The likelihood of being rejected…”

“And what made you think to do that?”

Karen’s cheeks reddened and she shrugged, lowering her gaze- and good lord, she really did look like a kid now- “It was just a faulty simulation… about everyone rejecting me.”

Peter felt his heart twist. Karen had a nightmare . “Karen-”

“I understand that the way I reacted was irrational… I’ll be sure it doesn’t happen again-”

“Karen, stop!” Peter snapped, not meaning to, “What are you talking about?”

Karen couldn’t bear to look at him and kept her gaze at her hands, “Something is wrong with me… and it's affecting how I function. I… I can’t be of use to you like this… I’ll fix it, though! So, there’s no need for concern-”

Peter stepped closer, “There’s nothing wrong with you, Karen.” He wished he sounded more confident, but he wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to tell her. He didn’t have experience in the ‘how to teach an android how to cope with evolving in ways no one had imagined or prepared for’. 

But he had to try.

With a deep breath in and a deep breath out, Peter did what he did best; yap.

“You’re not breaking, you’re changing and you're having a hard time understanding. People get scared of what they don’t understand all the time.” 

He could tell that Karen was processing what he was saying, “Then why does it feel like I’m breaking?”

Peter’s chest tightened at the question. He reached out his hand and rested it gently on her smaller shoulder, “That’s just what some feelings feel like,” He whispered. “I should’ve seen this… I was so focused on protecting you that I didn’t stop to think how it would-no-how it is affecting you.”

Karen wilts, “But… but you shouldn’t have to worry about me. I’m supposed to be your support system. I’m not supposed to malfunction like this.” There’s a hidden fear laced behind her trembling voice and Peter lowers his voice.

“Do you think I’ll shut you down?” He feels gross even asking, but Karen is a blunt person. Straight-forward questions are a must. “You think I’ll abandon you because you work differently now?”

A miniscule shrug, “I don’t know.”

Peter isn’t sure how to feel. He’d thought that Karen would have more confidence in him, but he had to remember that despite Karen being an android, she was a child; whether she wanted to admit that or not. The more she grew, the more child-like she became in various ways.

“Karen, I will never shut you down. Whatever is happening to you, I will help you through it. You’re not just my AI anymore. You’re Karen, and Karen is my little sister who just happens to be an android.” He feels his own eyes tearing up when Karen looks up at him with those unsure eyes of hers. “And I’m sorry for not checking up on you more.”

He hadn’t checked up on her much since they got to the manor. He’d been too caught up with everything else that he had put Karen in the backseat when she should’ve been in the passenger seat.

He’d given her too little thought. He never made sure she was truly okay with what he wanted. Of course Karen would just agree with what he wanted if he really doubled down on it. That kind of came with the programming. 

I mean, yeah, Karen had gone against him at some turns, but it was never anything major.

He was the one that didn’t want the Waynes to know that Karen was an android because he was terrified of losing Karen.

But he still couldn’t help but beat himself up for not thinking of the possibility of Karen adapting and changing and feeling-

Peter didn’t get to spiral much further, he felt someone press into his chest and a small pair of arms hesitantly wrap around him.

He hugged Karen back without a second thought, “If you want to tell them, we can. You can make choices too, Karen.”

* *

The sun had only just risen when Damian padded into the kitchen, a little bleary-eyed from sleeping in but already fully dressed. He paused in the large doorway of the kitchen, brow furrowing slightly.

Karen was sitting at the breakfast nook, blankly stirring her tea with a small teaspoon. Peter sat beside her, typing away on his brand new WayneTech laptop (courtesy of Bruce Wayne and the only gift that Peter tried to say no to).

Damian’s eyes narrowed. 

That wasn’t right.

Karen was present. She hadn’t even noticed that he’d come in.

“Hn,” he grunted, walking over.

Karen blinked, awareness re-awakened and turned to him, “Good morning, Damian.”

He grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and took a bite, staring Karen down all the while with those sharp green eyes of his. “Come with me.” He beckoned her with his free hand.

“Where?” He heard her ask.

“To the barn,” He said, as if it were obvious, “It’s feeding time.”

Karen tilted her head, unsure, “I don’t want to intrude, Dami-”

“If you were, I wouldn’t have asked.” He replied flatly.

They both left the kitchen after that and Cassandra strolled in moments later. She gracefully took the offered plate of food from Alfred and sat across from Peter. She didn’t start eating, though, deciding to stare at Peter instead with a wrinkled eyebrow.

“Is Karen okay?” She asked. Maybe it was because Karen was getting more comfortable around them, but Cass could read her better and better each passing day. And of all the emotions that Cass had been able to decipher so far, anxiety was a new one.

Guilt poured from Peter, overtaking the tense sadness. He wouldn’t look Cass in the eyes, trying to keep his attention on the screen of his laptop, and she could see his lips tighten. “She’s just got a lot on her mind lately… she should be fine.”

Cass cast a glance back towards the doorway.

She looked back to Peter, “Are you okay?”

Peter nodded, more confident with that answer, “Yeah, yeah… I’m good.”

He wasn’t telling the whole truth, but Cass left it alone.

*

The barn was surprisingly more clean than Karen had been expecting. And she knew that Damian had animals, but she wasn’t expecting this many.

A cow named Batcow, 3 turkeys, and a tortoise.

All incredibly well cared for.

Karen stood by as Damian portioned out food into various bowls. He glanced to a shelf near Karen and gestured, “Help me with the pellets in that blue bag. That’s part of the feed I give to the tortoise.”

She measured out the food as he’d instructed and they worked in silence as Damian fed the turkeys and his tortoise.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, not looking at her.

Karen shrugged, “I… it's nothing important.”

“Hn.” He didn’t believe her. He knew something was bothering her. Something had been bothering her since she’d received her first gifts from both Cass and himself. “You don’t have to talk about it, but I know something has happened. I’m asking because I care.”

A thought dawned Karen when he said that.

Maybe he wouldn’t make fun of her. He hadn’t done it yet, so why would he start now?

“I… I had a nightmare…” She didn’t like calling it that, it felt infantile but she couldn’t say ‘simulation’. 

Damian didn’t say anything. He only waited for her to continue.

So she did.

“You guys… you didn’t accept me for who I really am. No one liked me when they found out … so you guys strapped me down and dissected me.” 

The nightmare sounded silly when she retold it out loud. She could feel her cheeks heating up and more damn tears welling in her artificial orbs.

The simulation wasn’t the only thing that made Karen think that something was wrong with her. It was the fact she was so terrified of dying that made her think her systems were awry. Even if they did dissect her, she’d never truly be dead. She could upload a backup of herself and store it elsewhere in less than 3 minutes.

Part of her still existed in the suit that Peter was repairing this very minute. She could tell everything that he and Tim were doing.

But that innate fear of death was something that existed in living creatures. Even the smallest of organisms had some kind of mechanism to ensure survival in the face of apparent death.

And Karen’s fear didn’t stop at dying. She couldn’t fathom a backed up version of her continuing to exist would ever be the same as her that was standing next to Damian in his barn. 

Would her consciousness in this body end? And what would that feel like?

And those thoughts right there is what made her think this wasn’t normal.

Why was she, an android, having an existential crisis of this caliber?

“… and now I think that something’s wrong with me.” Titus came up beside her, nuzzling her side affectionately.

Damian frowned, “Like you think you’re sick?”

Karen hesitated.

Was this her chance? She could tell him and end all this nonsense. If they rejected her, she and Peter could just leave before they even had a chance to think about dissecting her.

Her circuits buzzed, internal conflict sparking inside her. She’d never thought to go against Peter like this. If her nightmare came true, they’d have to start from scratch again.

And if they had to start from scratch again while being actively hunted by Batman, would Peter ever forgive her? 

She didn’t want to calculate the likelihood of that. She didn’t want to know the answer.

“…I’m not sure,” she lied. Partly. “I don’t get scared much… and lately, I’ve been really scared.”

Damian watched her carefully and clicked his tongue, “Nothing’s wrong with you, Karen. You’re just weird. Like the rest of us.” He put the feed back on their wooden shelf, “And being scared is normal.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew what I was-“

“Karen.” Damian said her name so sharply, scolding her for speaking so negatively. “My father taught me long ago that while what someone is does matter, who they are matters more,” He explained, voice confident but soft, “We welcomed you into this family despite the lies because we understand and we care. I care-”

Karen held up a hand, lips sucked inwards and eyes brimming with more synthetic tears, “I hear you and I’d like you to not finish.” She said hurriedly, “I don’t feel like crying anymore.” She wiped at her eyes again with her arm, not entirely convinced but she didn’t feel that weight on her chest anymore. “Thank you… for not laughing at me.”

It was the first day of training and Peter was both looking forward to it and dreading it.

On one hand, he could finally flip and move like he’d been itching to do for weeks. On the other hand, he hated training.

He hadn’t gotten much training with the Avengers. Most of the training he’d received was on the field, so he knew that some proper training wouldn’t hurt. It just wouldn’t be fun.

That, and he would be training with Dick.

And it was a known secret that Peter had been avoiding him since he got into the manor.

Well… Peter felt like ‘avoiding’ was a strong word. It was more like he wasn’t seeking Dick out whenever he knew the older man was in the manor.

Peter felt bad because he could tell that Dick was holding himself back to give Peter space to give home time to think and acclimate.

And Dick shouldn’t have to do that.

But it's not like he could do that anymore. Now, Peter had no choice but to talk to him; he got chatty whenever he was training.

Peter heard Dick before he turned and saw him wrapping his hands in cloth. 

The older man had a small smile on his lips, his eyes a little wide in surprise, like he hadn’t expected anyone to be here, “Didn’t think you’d actually show up,” Dick said in a casual, teasing tone.

Peter shrugged sheepishly, “Yeah… couldn’t avoid you forever.”

Dick chuckled in soft surprise before he gestured towards the training area. “Well, I assume you already stretched?” Peter nodded, “Then let’s get started.”

Dick found out very quickly how skilled Peter was.

He couldn’t hide the astonishment in his face when Peter continued to successfully dodge all of his offensive attacks. In fact, Dick found himself to be out of breath while Peter was only starting to get amped up. He smiled to himself, Cass would love him.

Dick wiped some sweat from his brow with his arm, “You got all that from a spider?” 

Peter shrugged, “All that and more.” He quipped cryptically. He raised an eyebrow, “You gettin tired, old man?”

An offended gasp, “Old? I’m only 29!” Dick argued.

Dick strikes again, dashing forward in a blur of motion. Peter dodges just as easily and flips over him, landing behind him.

They’re both acrobatic in style, evasive with sharp bursts of precision, but Dick is obviously more controlled and efficient while Peter is quick with a freeing deposition. They’re well-matched despite the differences.

“With more training-” Dick jumps backs, taking another small break as they slowly circle each other, “-you’ll be a menace.”

“Already am.” Peter boasted.

“Who taught you?” It was framed like an innocent question, but Peter knew better. With the Waynes, all questions were deeper than they seemed.

“New York.”

They clash again and Dick throws a feint that Peter ignores completely, already anticipating his true movement and countering with a sweep. Dick hops over it, landing lightly.

As they continue to tussle, Dick speaks again, his voice surprisingly casual despite how exhausted he was. “So… is Karen okay?”

Peter hadn’t been expecting Dick to talk and faltered his next move, thinking back to when Cass had asked him the same thing just a few days prior. 

“She’ll be fine. Just a lot of feelings.” What an oversimplification.

“She’s been quiet. Even for her.” Dick voices, “Damian tells me she’s been having nightmares?”

Peter didn’t answer, allowing Dick to circle him now.

There’s a beat, “Is something going on?”

Peter lowers his stance and Dick stops circling, no longer pressing the spar.

“There’s just… a lot going on. I think she’s trying to figure out where she fits and she’s scared she doesn’t… and I feel that part of that is my fault she feels that way.”

Dick gives him a sympathetic look and hands him a cold water bottle. They sit on a bench nearby, “Welcome to the club. It’s hard being the older brother sometimes. Especially when your little siblings are having a hard time.”

Peter shrugs, “Yeah, well, you’ve had tons of practice… this is my first time having a sibling… you make it look so easy.” He saw the way everyone admired Dick. Admiration like that wasn’t just given, it was earned.

Dick laughs at that, “Oh, Peter, you have no idea-...” He paused suddenly, raising an eyebrow at the younger teen, “Or do you?”

Oh, right. They still think he’s from the future.

“Hypothetically, let’s say I have no clue.” Because he actually doesn’t know anything about Dick’s personal history.

Dick saves him a lot of the details, but like any family, the Waynes weren’t perfect. They were human and they’d all messed up numerous times. Some worse than others.

Peter gulps down the rest of his water and sighs, “So… how do you fix it?”

“You don’t.”

Peter frowns, “But… how do I help her then? I’m the only one she has.”

Dick doesn’t answer right away. He just watches Peter and studies the weight in his slouched shoulders. “You don’t fix it. You stay .” Dick tells him, “Hold the pieces for her while she figures it out.” He bumps Peter’s shoulder with his, a soft smile on his face, “And remember that it's not just you and her anymore. We’re here too.”

Peter realized then this was the longest he’d ever spoken to Dick and not felt like throwing up. 

This version of his father was different from the few memories he had of his dad. Maybe that was why. That, and Dick just had really good charisma. He deserved the admiration he received from others.

The moment was ruined, however, when Peter’s spidey sense screamed at him, warning him of an incoming projectile.

Without so much as blinking, Peter involuntarily shot out a string of web, sticking the batarang to the back wall behind Dick, whose jaw was dropped when he slowly turned to look at Peter.

A mix of disgusted groans and riveting laughter sounded from outside the training pad and they both only then noticed that Duke, Tim, Stephanie and Cass had been watching the last bit of their spar. Now, however, Tim and Stephanie were both hunched over, one dry heaving and the other laughing. 

“He did squirt in your eyes!” Steph choked out, holding an identical batarang in her other hand.

“ I fucking what ?!” Peter asked, disbelief and disgust etched in both his face and tone. ‘When did I do that?!”

Tim was on all fours now, he couldn’t fathom the mortification. He didn’t want to face what was now the truth of what had truly gone down that night.

Peter had-

Oh, god, he couldn’t admit to that.

He couldn’t do it.

He would have to shove that memory deep into the darkest parts of his mind where he wouldn’t be able to reach. He’d need to refuse this reality. Brainwash himself to pretend this never happened.

Duke was doubled over laughing, holding onto Cass, who had her hand over her mouth to hide her smile.

Seeing that he wasn’t going to get an answer, Peter looked to Dick.

The older man scratched at the back of his neck, a sheepish smile upon his lips despite the laughter that threatened to spill out of his own mouth, “The first night you met Tim as Red Robin, you-uh… webbed his face… we had been questioning whether it was organic material or not…”

Every time they’d tried to collect a sample, it would either be nearly impossible to collect or the sample they did collect would dissolve before they could analyze it.

One Peter wanted to explain himself and ease Tim’s horror by telling him that what he’d been hit with had been synthetic webbing, but then the other Peter would have to explain why he would use fake webbing when he had his own fresh supply. Which would then mean that he’d have to explain that he didn’t have spinnerets until well after he’d been living in Gotham.

Or he could just let Tim deal with the mental anguish.

Which would be a much more hilarious way of going about this.

And Peter was known for his sense of humor.

While Tim lost his lunch and Steph lost herself to laughter, Duke and Cass were in front of him.

“Can you see quick glimpses of the future or something?” Duke asks.

Peter shakes his head, “I wouldn’t call it a precognitive ability. More like a sixth sense that warns me of incoming danger.”

Duke and Cass nod to themselves at the explanation.

“That’s pretty cool. My abilities actually allow me to glimpse into the future. I can see the ghosts of where light will be.” Peter nods enthusiastically in understanding.

“So you can predict movements! That’s so much cooler than my stupid spidey sense.”

Duke frowned in mild disgust, “You call it ‘Spiidey sense’? That’s worse than the Batcave.”

Peter gave an offended scoff, “Would you rather I call it a tingle? Cuz that’s what it feels like.”

Cass immediately shook her head, “Gross.”

Duke agreed, “Yeah, don’t call it that.”

Chapter Text

Hey, yall! I’ve done a lot of thinking and doom scrolling and I need something to distract me further from real life, so I’ve decided that I’m going to be rewriting this work.

There’s a lot that I wish I’d done differently and I know I can make the story more cohesive so that people don’t have so many questions since I just post the chapter as soon as I’m done with it.

No, this choice wasn’t made bc someone decided to leave some nasty comments about their thoughts on my work, but I do want to produce better work and I know I can do better.

I will keep what’s left of this work up. Idk when I’ll be posting the first chapter of the rewrite but I’ll post another update on this work when it’s done.

Thank you so much for all the love and please, please, please stay safe out there in the real world.

Chapter Text

It happened sooner than I had promised, but I had to post the first chapter so I'd feel a bit more urgency while writing! Chapter updates may take a little longer, but I do plan to finish the new rewrite! Thank you guys for the constant support and enjoy!

Here's the link to the rewrite