Chapter Text
Peter startles awake, a sharp pain permeating up his spine. His vision is a bit blurry. As he tries to get up, the pain worsens, followed by what feels like his skull being split open. All he can do is lie there in pain, clutching his side. His ears ring, filled with the sound of breaths that aren't deep enough.
Laying on cold hard ground, whimpering in pain he tries to remember how he got here, and where he is. Which reminds him… where is he?
The last thing he remembers is heading to his shitty under the table job to pay for his old, sad apartment. And now he’s here, in too much pain to do anything. His eyes are clamped shut to help dull the world, everything’s a bit much right now. Which the constant pings from his spider-sense isn’t helping with.
He was starting to like that job too…
lying on the ground till the pain finally begins to fade, giving Peter a chance to stand up and figure out where the hell he is. The harsh glow of what he assumes is a streetlamp makes it difficult to get his bearings. As his eyes adjust and the constant ringing in his ears fades away, Peter realizes he has absolutely no idea where he is.
The alley he's standing in is far too clean, hidden beneath the shadow of a towering building. Stepping out onto the street, he can immediately tell this isn't New York. Across the road stands a massive building with the words "The Daily Planet" plastered across the top, it’s a building he's never seen.
Thankfully, his spider-sense has calmed down too, and once he feels like he can start walking, he makes his way to the nearest bench, trying to think of what to do next.
He knocks his head back, aching body happy to be off the ground, the smell of the city just off enough to not comfort him. No matter how much his body protests he needs to figure out where he is.
As he stands to try to find a map or someone to ask for directions, his senses tell him to MOVE. He leaps sideways, tumbling to the ground, as he watches the bench he was just sitting on get crushed under the weight of a car.
Quickly he gets to his feet, running into a nearby alley. Thankfully he has his suit on him, the tech crawls out from its casing in his watch, working its way up his body till he's encompassed in it.
Peter instantly tries to find where the car was thrown from, scaling the nearest building to get a better vantage point. He thought that because it was such a nice city, nothing bad happened here, but boy was he wrong. What appears to be a flying man is ravaging the city, wearing red and blue, with a cape fluttering behind him.
Doing the only thing Peter can think of, he launches himself off the roof, cutting through the air as he makes his way toward this villain. This guy may be above his pay grade, with those rather deadly lasers that seem to be coming from his eyes and the fact that he's flying without any Tech... But before he can psych himself out of it, he swings up, pulling with all his might—
The man's gone?
The "Hi there" coming from behind Peter scares the shit out of him, leaving him flailing uselessly in the air before he's... in the arms of someone?
"Uhhh, hi?"
"Some neat tricks you have there!"
"Thanks? Wait, aren't you the bad guy?"
"Me? No, no, no, no. You don't know who I am?"
"Should I?"
At that, the strange man, who claims not to be evil, thinks for a moment before responding. "I would think so... However, I guess that means it's perfect for introductions, Superman, at your service."
Peter sits in Superman's arms, high above a city he has never seen, talking to a superhero he's never heard of. And getting a closer look, the man has dark wavy hair, and piercing blue eyes. But it's the first time he's had human interaction that hasn't started with a gun, a knife, or even just plain old fists aimed at him. And if anyone asked, no, Peter wasn't leaning into what could barely be considered an embrace.
"I'm Spider-Man, also at your service."
"I've never heard of you. I guess that makes two of us, Spider-Man."
What Peter guesses is the thing that threw the car catches Superman's attention, Peter looked down to see an alien ravaging the streets. Superman just sighs, asking, "Mind giving me a hand?"
The alien looked wrong in a way Peter couldn't quite explain. Its body was vaguely humanoid, but every limb was just a little too long, every joint bending at angles that made his skin crawl. Its skin shimmered like liquid metal, constantly shifting between shades of silver and black.
Instead of eyes, six glowing red orbs floated within a hollow cavity where its face should have been, orbiting one another like tiny planets. Thin tendrils drifted from its back, moving as though underwater despite the open air. Every time one touched a building, the concrete blackened and crumbled to dust.
The thing didn't roar or growl. It produced a deep, vibrating hum that Peter felt in his chest more than his ears. The sound alone was enough to make people stumble and cover their heads.
Peter had fought aliens before. This thing made them look normal.
Getting a short nod in response is all Superman needed before he's launching both of them at the monster. Peter doesn’t know how to deal with something like this; he doubts his webs could get anywhere near this thing. Looking up to see Superman who seems to be thinking of how to deal with this, he yells, "How do you want me to help?"
"The civilians come first. I think I have this guy handled."
If it means I don't have to get near that thing. works for me. He thinks with a shrug, before succumbing to his senses, allowing them to guide him to the nearest person, one who's a bit too close to a building that's lost most of its bottom floor. Without his usual quips, he scoops up the middle-aged man. Moving the civilian to somewhere safe, he puts him down and out of harm's way, then is onto the next! And the next. And the next...
After a few minutes, Peter can feel the presence of the monster slipping away, so he makes his way back.
The street is in disarray. Most things have turned to ash, but this Superman guy seems to be alright, at least.
Peter slowly strolls up, hands on the back of his head. "Soooo, do you know what that thing was?"
Superman gives a small smile, sighing as he says, "Not yet, but I'll look into it. As long as it's dealt with and people are safe. Which I should thank you for—you made my job much easier."
Peter wonders if it has to do with how he got here.
Peter gives a quick salute. "No prob, man. You got the rest covered?"
Superman nods, returning the salute with a goofy smile.
As he starts to head off, he gets a quick running start before launching himself toward the nearest building. Superman watches until the red-and-blue figure disappears from sight.
"We'll meet again," he says with a smile. "Something tells me we will."
The sun is already drifting lower in the sky, Peters has been looking around for information, his suit works, but Karen seems to be broken as of now. Which isn't great for Peter. He hasn't had the best of luck finding anything out about this place. Only a newspaper, one that reads about the most recent attack on Metroplise. Peters never heard of a city named that. Adding onto his growing list of things to look up once he has access to a computer.
But that can come later, night is already clawing its way out, and Peter doesn't have anywhere to stay. And no matter how nice a city looks, it's still a city, and he doesn't feel like getting stabbed in his sleep.
Swinging from building to building, Peter makes his way to a…put nicely, worse off neighborhood. Using his senses, he tries to find a place that's abandoned but safe.
It takes a while, and night is already fully underway, but he does find one, a short building sandwiched between two taller ones that seem to have a failing foundation. All three are brick, worn and bleached by the sun. Cracks spread all around the building's walls, but the metal ceiling and windows seem to be mostly intact. And Peter isn't one to complain.
Using as little webbing as possible, he sets up a hammock to sleep. His “bed” sits in one of the corners, and he does too. Huddled up trying to conserve some warmth that the night is stealing.
Sleep comes quicker than usual tonight, maybe it’s from the lingering soreness from earlier, or maybe the cold could have aided his rest. Not that it matters, because morning comes too quickly for his likening.
A soft light trickles in from one of the windows he rests by, rays of light dancing across a face that’s too tired. The eye-bags he has seem to weigh down every move he makes. However, there are things to be done today; information that’s needed. So no matter how reluctant Peter was to get up, he did.
He leaves the webs up, knowing the webs will dissolve soon enough. And it’s not like he has anything to keep hidden, all he has is what’s on his person. Which is the clothes he’s wearing, a shitty cracked phone that didn’t seem to survive however he got here, and his spider suite. So first things first, find a place that has a computer, then some food, and maybe clothes.
Once Peter makes his way outside, he remembers he doesn’t really know where he is. Or even where to go to get a computer. Doing the only thing he can, Peter starts making his way down the street. The early morning light casts soft shadows from the trees he passes, and before long trees turn to short brick buildings then into tall towering concrete.
He’s downtown, near that Daily Planet place he was earlier. Not having much of any direction or place to be he decides to head in, to at least ask for directions to a library or something.
Peter doesn’t know the time, but he knows it’s early, so color him surprised with how busy it was when he walked in.
Walking up to the front desk he gets a shiver up his spine.
Watching.
His eyes scan the room. He can’t look for too long or he’ll become the suspicious one. He isn’t ignoring his spider-sense; he just has to not look like a weirdo to this receptionist.
A smaller lady with short curly hair and a pair of glasses that sit low on her nose looked up from her computer.
Peter was still glancing around a bit, noticing small cubicles on an open floor, large windows lined the walls, rays of light settling into the room.
"Hi there, young man. What can I help you with?"
Startled by the voice. He gave a small smile before answering.
"Uh, hi. I seem to be a bit lost and was hoping I could get some directions to a library or somewhere with a computer?"
The woman studied him for a moment.
"I could tell you where a library is, but if it's just for a computer, I'm sure someone here isn't too busy and could lend you theirs."
Peter's reaction was immediate, if not a bit frantic.
"Oh, I really wouldn't want to be a bother to anyone working. It's fine, I don't mind walking. I just don't know where to go."
"Honey, it's fine. Let's see..." She glanced around the room before brightening. "Ah, I know. CLARK!"
Peter froze slightly at the sudden shout.
A moment later, a voice came from behind him.
"You called?"
Peter turned around.
The man standing there was tall. Really tall. Dark curls sat neatly atop his head, tighter than Peter's own, and bright blue eyes met his. Before Peter could say anything, the woman spoke again.
"Yes, Clark dear. This young man needs a computer, and you didn't look too busy."
Clark sighed.
"Samantha, just because I don't look busy doesn't mean I'm not busy."
He muttered something under his breath that Peter shouldn’t have caught, though Samantha's grin would’ve told the same story.
Clark wasn't busy, he just didn’t want to be called out for it.
"Alright, kid. Follow me."
Peter quickly nodded, turning back to thank Samantha before following after Clark.
The walk across the newsroom was surprisingly pleasant. Clark asked for his name and age, making casual conversation as they weaved between desks. Peter answered cautiously while taking in his surroundings. The place was busy but welcoming, reporters moving from desk to desk while phones rang somewhere in the background.
When they finally reached Clark's desk, he gestured toward the computer.
"It's a little old, but it should do the job."
"It's perfect. Thank you."
"No problem. I've got to step out for a few minutes. So have at it"
Peter waited until Clark disappeared into the sea of desks before immediately turning toward the screen.
The first thing he needed to figure out was where the hell he was. He started by looking up the place called Metropolis.
So…
He’s in Delaware?
Next: he looked up the size of the city.
Eleven million.
That can't be right.
There was absolutely no way a city with eleven million people had existed his entire life without him hearing about it. Especially one so close to New York, Maybe he'd clicked the wrong result.
He checked again. Same answer. Metropolis.
Trying not to panic, Peter opened another tab. Trying the first thing that came to mind.
The Avengers.
Nothing.
Iron Man.
Nothing.
Peter's stomach dropped.
He rubbed a hand over his face before opening another search.
Spider-Man.
:did you mean Batman?
Peter clicked on the suggested search, hundreds of thousands of results came up.
Apparently, “Batman” resides in a city called Gotham. Which after looking up where that was, is right across the bay, in New Jersey.
And this Batman guy has lots of helpers. Robin, Red Robin, Nightwing, Spoiler, Signal, and Orphan.
And that’s just the good guys.
Okay, so there are two large cities he’s never heard of. And hero’s he’s never heard of, plus the ones he does know don’t seem to exist.
Cool.
He moves his search back to metropolis, and wants to find a bit more about that Superman guy. The list of abilities on this guy seems endless, same with the amount of villains he’s dealt with. The justice league is something that catches Peter’s eye, mainly due to Batman appearing on it as well.
“How's everything holding up here?
Peter scrambles to close the tab, a slightly blush creeping its way up his face. Only producing a small, “fine.”
“Superman, huh? Are you a fan?”
“I wouldn't say a fan, just interesting. I mean I met him yesterday, he was nice.”
“... Yesterday?”
“Yeah?”
Clark stands there for a second, clearly trying to find the right words, “uh, I’m glad you think he's nice.”
A sad smile flashes across Peter's face, before settling into a distant look, “He was, saving people tends to be a selfless thing.”
“Yeah, he is selfless, I’ve actually interviewed him quite a few times now.”
“Oh, you did say you were a reporter, that's really neat, it’s kinda cool that he takes interviews?”
“Superman does his best to stay connected to the community, not some faraway hero that won't actually help in times of need. So, he reached out to me to work on his publicity.”
“Lucky you, I hope to meet him again sometime.”
As silence takes over, Peter shifts to stand, catching another glimpse of a man that has a few too many emotions on his face for what Peter thought was an easy conversation. Now he's the one asking how things are holding up.
“Oh, sorry, it's work related, don't worry about it.” Clark shrugs off.
“Hmmm, ok, whatever you say man. Thanks again for the computer, but I should probably head out.”
Clark gives Peter a once over, “do you have a place to go?”
Peter not-so-subtly recoiled at the question, “I, yeah of course I do.”
“Do they feed you?”
“Wa- yes!”
“Where do you live then?”
“I don't have to tell you that. I think I’ll be going now.”
“Wait, Peter, no I-I didn't mean to push. How ‘bout you just stay here and I can go run and grab us something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
The silence that fell after the rumble from Peter's stomach was deafening.
Peter's eyes shot up to meet Clark's. Too blue. Too knowing. Too much.
He bolted.
"Peter, wait—"
Clark took a step after him before stopping.
Something was off.
That kid was moving way too fast.
Enhanced fast.
By the time Clark reached the door, Peter was already gone.
Clark stared down the hallway, unease settling in his chest. He had some calls he had to make.
Once outside, Peter kept running, trying to get away from that oppressive feeling, like his lungs can't get deep enough of a breath. And before long he ends up in a place similar to where he woke. The streets are dirtier, buildings shorter, people meaner.
For once his luck doesn’t seem to be working against him, a library sits on the corner of the street. Just what he needed, some more time with a computer, by himself. That receptionist lady was nice, but he would have preferred just getting directions to a library. I mean he had to deal with that overbearing Clark guy, he was nice but has no right to ask Peter those questions.
Walking in, he’s greeted by a man at the front desk who doesn’t even look up from his phone. Peter sees the computer section towards the back.
He plops down in a chair, staring a black screen. His face looks like… it’s smaller? And a bit more plump. Kind of like when he was fourteen.
Fuck.
Peter quickly jostles the mouse, hovering over the bottom left of the screen to check the date.
October 4th, 2016.
Eight years back, even if he was blipped for five of those, still he’s young again.
How is he going to get a job like this?
And he is not doing foster care, he has helped too many kids in the system as Spider-Man to think that it would be of any help.
What are his options?
Be homeless, and free.
Or have a roof, but monitored constantly.
Both of those suck.
He takes a second to rest his head on the table. Tears welled up in his eyes, man he was so tired.
He stays like that for a second, small whimper like sounds escaping his mouth.
Not wanting to draw too much attention, Peter does his best to focus on what’s at hand. Learning a bit more about this place.
He looked up other hero’s, the history of said hero’s. And trying to decide where Spider-Man would be needed most. If he’s going to be free and homeless, he should at least be helping those who need it most.
By the looks of it a place called Park Row might be his next destination. He can’t go back to New York, he’s worried things might be too different. The thought that he now truly has nothing from his past hurts, and being there would make it hurt more.
Can’t even visit her grave anymore.
Enough of that, he needs to figure out how to get there. He looks up bus rides, even though there cheap he doesn’t have any money right now.
What would be easiest to sneak onto
A boat, he’s sure he could slip onto a boat at night and it would go right where he wanted. Perfect plan, no way it could go wrong.
He spent the next few hours looking up various things, it got to the point where he had to ask the man at the front desk for a pen and paper.
He wrote down names of homeless shelters, some sketchy sounding workplaces in Gotham. And what felt like a never ending list of what they call the rouge gallery.
Peter now has names and the rough abilities of 10 plus bad guys. As well as a few places he might be able to get a free meal, and possible employment.
Satisfied with his work, Peter makes his way outside. And man he must’ve spent a long time in there, the sun is already setting. And with the way his stomach feels he should’ve taken Clark up on that food.
Okay food first, then becoming a stowaway.
Strolling down the street, a sharp ping in his sense makes his head snap to his left. A tall stack of smoke drifts up from a building. Without a second thought he starts sprinting off towards the smoke. Dodging between buildings, he hits the watch on his wrist.
Now donning his suite, Peter darts into the building where the smoke is coming from. A tall apartment-like building is engulfed in smoke, the flames emanating from the lower floors. Peter can hear that the firefighters are already on their way.
Most of the lower floors seemed to have already gotten out, and it was mainly the people trapped on the upper levels that couldn't escape. The stairwells were clogged with smoke, and every floor Peter passed seemed worse than the last.
As he made his way up, he could hear people coughing through the walls or calling out for help. Some sounded terrified, others exhausted. A few voices were weak enough that Peter almost missed them entirely beneath the roar of the fire. Most of them were calling for Superman.
The crazy part was that those voices kept disappearing.
At first Peter thought he was imagining it, but every few seconds another panicked shout would suddenly cut off. Not because something bad had happened, but because the person was gone. Safe. Outside.
Superman was moving through the building faster than Peter could even comprehend.
Peter pushed higher, webbing across a section of collapsed hallway. The heat pressed against him from every direction, turning the air thick and difficult to breathe. Somewhere above him, glass shattered. Below, he could hear firefighters shouting instructions as more people poured out of the building.
Another voice cried for help from somewhere ahead.
Peter moved fast, clambering his way up the next flight of stairs to the nearest heartbeat he can hear. As he busts through the door, a small child lays unconscious grasping loosely at a teddy bear in her arms. Peter quickly but gently scoops her up before opening the window in the room, and climbing down the side of the building.
He does his best to help Superman really, but most people are out before he can help anyone else besides the little girl.
By the time he gets the little girl to the paramedics he can no longer hear pleas for help coming from inside the building. The little girl looks at him from the ambulance she’s in, a large mostly toothless smile is sent his way. He smiles too, not that she can see it, but he gives a little wave before turning the other way.
Peter started making his way to the docs. Deciding to stay in his suite for the quicker transport, Peter swings between buildings. And before long he landed softly on the top of a building, looking out on the doc below for any signs of movement. Mainly trying to find a ship that should be leaving soon.
“Spider-Man?”
FUCK!
“You have got to stop doing that Superman.”
“Sorry sorry, I just saw you leave so quickly from the fire, and wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I mean, yeah I’m fine I didn’t even help.”
“Don’t say that kid, you helped someone and that’s all that matters.”
Peter plops down on the edge of the building. Superman floats down till he stands behind Peter. The lights from Gotham glimmer in the distance, illuminating the sky till it’s a soft gray. But the bay swallows all the light returning the sky to its vast endless black.
Peter can’t help but feel a bit defeated. Being Spider-Man has taken so much from him, and he can’t even be helpful.
But the view is nice.
Those little things seem to be the only thing that keeps him going.
“Why are yo—” Superman starts, but a loud rumble comes from Peter’s stomach. And boy is Peter glad he has a mask right now, because his face can’t be any shade but red right now.
“Hungry?”
Peter thought he would make a joke or something, but this Superman guy seems to actually care.
“Why do you care?” It comes out harsher than he meant it to.
But Superman only laughs, “ I’ll take that as a yes. Wait right here, I’ll only be a second.”
Peter buries his face in his hand, sighing into them, as if to ask, why him. A few more seconds pass, and a lot quicker than Peter thought, Superman was back.
“You weren’t kidding when you said a second.”
“Nope! Eat up kid, it’s all yours.”
A large container of spaghetti is placed on his lap, Peter looks up to the man, who has a large smile plastered on his face.
“Oh, and a fork.”
Peter wants to not take it, he’s not helpless or anything. But he’s so hungry, muttering a small thanks Peter starts devouring the meal. Superman stands by in silence waiting for Peter to finish.
After a few minutes of this silence, broken by slurps and punctuated with satisfied sigh Superman asks,“You enjoy it?”
“Yeah… thanks a lot.”
“So, Spider-Man, where are you headed next?”
“…Gotham I guess.”
“Yeah? You sound like you don’t really want to.”
“Well it seems like you have this city under control, and based on what I looked up, Gotham could use the help.”
“That’s true, but the bats have a hard time sharing their city.”
“Well, I guess we’ll figure out who’s more stubborn.”
“Ha, I wish you the best of luck with that, the bat is hard headed. But I’m sure you are too kid.”
Peter mumbles an “I’m not a kid” under his breath.
Superman only smiles in response, before standing, brushing off nonexistent dust from his legs.
“It was nice to see you again Spider-Man, sad to see you go so soon, but I’m sure the man under the mask has his own reason.”
“Something like that.”
“Stay safe, and shout out if you ever need me.” And in a blink he’s gone.
Peter stares at the now empty container of food, taking a second before moving again.
He climbs down the side of the wall, heading towards the sound of workers loading a boat.
Rounding the corner, he sees a medium sized shipment container lit by the soft orange glow of a streetlamp. Thankfully there aren’t many workers so sneaking on shouldn’t be too hard.
Peter was right, after observing for a while he found the perfect time to make his way onto the boat. And with a little bit of help from his spider powers he was tucked away on the ship, head already lulling as sleep captured him for the night.
The abrupt lurch of the boat as it came to a stop woke Peter as his head knocked against the wall. Groaning at the rather rude way to be woken. For a second there Peter forgot he was in what he suspects has to be a different universe, but at the sight of the stacked crates around him he is reminded of where he is.
Not wanting to waste more time, he stood and carefully pushed aside the tarp covering the opening of the container.
The harbor was quiet.
Well, quieter than Metropolis had been.
Rows of shipping containers stretched across the docks beneath harsh floodlights. Beyond them stood a skyline Peter immediately recognized from the countless articles he'd spent hours reading the day before.
Gotham.
Even from here, the city looked different.
Dark towers clawed their way into the night sky while thick clouds hung low overhead, swallowing what little moonlight existed. The whole city looked tired.
Peter pulled himself from the container and dropped silently onto the dock below.
The workers unloading the ship were focused elsewhere, making it easy to slip away. Within minutes he was weaving through back streets and side roads, heading deeper into the city.
His spider-sense never fully relaxed.
It wasn't warning him of immediate danger.
It just felt...
Uneasy.
Like Gotham itself had his senses on edge.
The streets grew narrower as he walked. Cleaner buildings gave way to older ones. Neon signs buzzed overhead. The occasional shout echoed from somewhere in the distance.
Eventually Peter ducked into an alley, leaning against a brick wall as he tried to figure out his next move.
Find somewhere to sleep.
He had just pushed away from the wall. Watching.
He spun around, a dark outline silhouetted by the moonlight.
His hearing picked up a sharp intake of breath, clearly this person didn’t think they were going to be spotted so quickly.
“…Dick?”