Work Text:
It was raining outside.
Not that that was a bad thing. In fact, it was really nice. Peter loved the rain. Always had. It was peaceful, and the sound was comforting, and the smell…well, it was like nothing else. But, the problem about rain was, when you were alone in the middle of the night, in the dark, the rain felt kinda sad.
The light on the TV illuminated the room, casting shadows on all the walls. Peter pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders, half-watching the TV and half-lost in thought. He wanted to sleep, really, but he couldn’t quite make his mind shut up. The thoughts running through his head was enough to give him a migraine and probably would have if he hadn’t taken like 3 ibuprofens. Tim would probably lecture him if he found out. Though, Tim was a little bit of a hypocrite when it came to self-care, so he wouldn’t have listened anyways. It wasn’t like when Dick lectured him. When Dick was angry, it was… scary, really. The look he’d had in his eyes, the anger, fear, hurt, it made Peter feel guilty. He’d been able to handle Tim’s lecture, Jason’s headshakes, and Damian’s look of pure approval (glad he had one supporter), but Dick… when he’d looked at him with that stare, Peter had suddenly felt so small. It was like he was a child, getting lectured for trying to climb a tree and falling, or stealing candy from his teacher’s desk, and not the teenage vigilante who’d risked his life because he cared about his friends. He’d done the right thing…right? If he’d done the right thing, why did he feel so guilty?
The laugh-track of the TV scared Peter out of his thoughts. It sucked that you couldn’t get spider-sense for shows.
Peter let out a dejected sigh, throwing his head backwards on the couch, to stare at what he’d thought would be the ceiling and instead was the bottom of Bruce’s face. He sat up, spinning his torso around to stare at Bruce, who was watching the TV.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Not long,” Bruce answered, taking a sip from his mug. He walked around the couch to sit besides Peter, eyeing the show with as much scrutiny as he would a mission report.
“Can’t sleep either?” Peter asked, pulling his legs beneath him to sit criss-cross.
“I’ve gotten into the habit of not sleeping.”
Peter nodded, staring at Bruce as he watched the TV.
“It’s quiet.” Peter said, stating the obvious.
“Often is, on these kinds of nights. When Jason and Cass are patrolling, the house is much quieter. Damian goes to bed early when he gets the chance. He’s still young. Needs his sleep. So do you.”
“I couldn’t sleep.” Peter sighed.
Bruce nodded. “Understandable.”
They sat, quiet for a little bit, the show filling in the noise instead. Bruce narrowed his eyebrows at the cheesy jokes and phoned-in laugh track.
“What show is this?”
“Oh!” Peter exclaimed, feeling a little embarrassed. “Lab Rats. It’s about three bionic kids who live in their dad’s basement and have to learn how to be normal from their stepbrother, while being superheroes. It’s kind of corny, but I like it. It’s one of my comfort shows. Used to watch it a lot when I was younger.”
“Hm.” Bruce said, sipping his mug, which smelled a lot like coffee, before setting down the mug and leaving the room.
Peter watched him leave, suddenly feeling very lonely. He’d made Bruce leave. He’d somehow picked a show so irritating it made the Batman leave. Peter sighed, pulling his knees to his chest and burying his head.
It wasn’t surprising. He made everyone leave eventually. He always screwed things up. He said the wrong thing or did the wrong thing or made someone uncomfortable and he never even knew how. There was something so inherently wrong with him that no one truly wanted to be around him long. He made them uncomfortable, or annoyed, or angry. It was like the world had an instruction manual on how to behave, and Peter never got his. In fact, he was an expert at doing the wrong thing. He was too loud or too quiet or too wrong. He was a mistake. Everything he did was a mistake. No wonder Dick had been so angry. Of course he’d be upset at Peter putting himself in danger. He was such a screw-up. Dick would have known that Peter would mess up the mission and make things worse. Even now, with all his abilities, all he ever did was fail and mess up. Maybe it would be better if he just left, everything would be better. He wouldn’t have anyone's life to screw up. Maybe-
He was pulled out of his thoughts by something hot touching his leg. He looked up to meet Bruce’s eyes, who was holding a mug out to him. He took it, wrapping his hands around the mug and breathing in the warmth. He took a sip. Hot cocoa.
He looked at Bruce, putting his legs down and taking a long drink as Bruce sat down beside him. Bruce pulled the blanket up around Peter’s shoulders and began to watch the show.
“So, who’s he?”
“Oh, that’s Dr. Davenport. He’s their billionaire dad. Well, their adopted dad. Their actual dad is his brother, Douglas, who’s a villain. Dr. D ended up taking them because he thought he’d be a better father than his brother. Douglas ends up becoming an antagonist in the later season, and then eventually becomes a main character, playing a big part in the bionic island arc.”
“Hmm.”
They continued on, watching the show, Bruce asking occasional questions and Peter giving him long, spoiler-filled answers, until eventually, Peter felt his head grow heavy and he leaned on Bruce, closing his eyes.
When his mind came to hours later, he could still hear the sound of rain. The room was dark, and he rolled over, taking in the realization that he was now in a bed, wrapped in a thick, fluffy blanket. He let out a contented sigh and fell back asleep.
Maybe he could stay a little longer.