Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“What if everyone forgot… me?” Peter looked up at Dr. Strange, desperation loud in his voice. 

“It isn’t enough,” Dr. Strange replied, a pained look on his face. 

“What?” Peter’s voice faltered. 

“There’s too much damage, the multi-verse is too destroyed, it won’t be enough to just forget you.”

Peter looked at him, waiting. Had he really messed up so badly there was no way to fix it? 

“What else is there?” Peter pleaded when Dr. Strange didn’t continue. 

Dr. Strange hesitated before he spoke again, and the words sent chills down Peter’s spine. 

“Complete obliteration. You can’t exist.” 

“O-Okay, so obliterate me. I'm-- I'm ready," he tried to sound casual, but his voice cracked and Dr. Strange gave him a look of pity. 

“I think… I think there might be another way. A way to erase you from our universe, and our multi-verse, while still giving you a chance at life.” 

Peter’s heart skipped a beat. 

Dr. Strange stopped the spell that was holding the multi-verse at bay, before he started a new one (at least, Peter thought he started a new one). 

“Good-bye, Peter Parker, it’s been a pleasure,” Dr. Strange whispered, giving him a soft smile, before he released the spell. It hit Peter square in the chest, pushing him off the tower into a free fall. Karen transformed his suit into hearing aids, and he somehow managed to turn his head towards Ned and MJ, who could only look on, horrified and scared. He mouthed an ”I’m sorry" to them before they disappeared from view..   

Everything was a blur of colors. He couldn’t make sense of anything around him. Red, orange and blue colors, faces he didn’t recognize, buildings he’d never seen before, streets he’d never walked. And just as soon as they’d appeared, everything cleared. At least, as clear as it could be when you’re free falling. A dark sky opened up above, ridden of any stars. And then – pain. He hit the edge of a rooftop, and spun around, before he hit a fire escape, and another, and then a third (for good measure), before he hit the ground – hard. He groaned, tried to move, couldn’t, gave up trying. 

“Karen? You here?" he groaned, wincing in pain. 

[Yes, Peter, I’m here.] 

“What’s the damage?” Every word he spoke pained him, but he needed to know how bad it was. 

[You have 27 broken bones and internal bleeding in your chest.] 

Great. Well, he had 179 non-broken bones, he could work with that. But apparently, ‘working with that’ meant passing out. 

“I’ve told you, stay out of my territory, Dick!” 

“I just wanted to come hang out, Jason!” 

“You should have called, then!” 

“I did!” 

“Well, then– what the fuck is that?”

Jason had stopped, and held out his arm to stop Dick as well, pointing towards the sky. A large hole had appeared just above a building. Dick almost tripped, but Jason’s arm had caught him. He looked up at the sky and his mouth dropped. But just as soon as the whole had sparked open, it sparked close. He squinted at it, and then he noticed the small figure falling. 

“Shit, Jason, look!” he yelped, as the figure, clearly a kid, plummeted down. They watched in horror as he hit the edge of the roof and the fire escapes before hitting the ground – hard. Without a word they both ran towards the kid, couching down above him, checking for pulse and life signs. 

“How the hell is he still alive?” Jason muttered when he found a pulse. The kid was messed up, he looked like he’d been beaten to hell and back. A few of the injuries, especially on his face and hands, were at least a couple of hours old and not from the fall. He looked to be around Tim’s age, 16 or 17, and Jason started to get pissed. Who’d done this to a freaking kid?

Dick seemed to be at a loss for words, but when he noticed Jason’s eyes start to fill with green, he placed a calming hand on his shoulder. Jason had a special place in his heart for kids, and he hated it when they got hurt. 

“Let’s get him out of here. Should we take him to the cave? Or a hospital” he whispered. 

“No.” Jason replied. He didn’t want to put him through that when he woke up. “We’re taking him to my apartment. It’s closer.”

Jason carefully lifted the kid off the ground and into his arms, trying to bring him more pain even though he wasn’t conscious. He had most medical equipment at his apartment, having the need to have easy access to it himself if he got hurt as Red Hood. He wasn’t trained in it, but he’d gotten the hang of it, more or less, over the years. It wasn’t always pretty, but it didn’t have to be. Dick, though, had had some training.  

They walked slowly to the apartment; not wanting to rush and make whatever injury the kid had worse. He hadn’t moved at all while he was in his arms, except his head which bobbed slightly. Dick kept looking around, ready to protect if someone came and tried anything, even if he wasn’t in costume. He still had a reputation as someone you didn’t want to mess with as a civilian. And besides, he was with Jason, who had a strong presence and reputation in Crime Alley with, and without, costume. 

Dick was the one who fished the keys out of Jason’s jacket and unlocked the multiple doors leading into Jason’s place. Jason walked into the bedroom and laid the kid on his bed, pulling the desk chair over to sit down next to him. Dick went and grabbed the medical kit. 

They had to cut open his shirt, as it was stained with blood, to see the extent of the injuries. He was surprised at his fit physique, he wouldn’t have guessed that based on how light he’d been when he carried him. His ribs were bruised, and clearly broken, on both sides. There was also a deep wound across his chest; it looked like he’d been blasted with something. That was going to leave a scar. Jason went to work when Dick handed him the medical supplies. 

After they’d stitched and bandaged him up, Dick pulled him up from the chair and out of the room. 

“When he wakes up, he’ll probably be hungry. Let’s make some food for when that happens and we can heat it up if it takes him a while to wake.” 

Jason just nodded and went into the kitchen, signaling for Dick to stay in the bedroom. Dick was horrendous in the kitch, which had gotten him a permanent ban everywhere. 

Dick couldn’t sit still so paced the living room. What was that hole in the sky, and why did the kid fall from it? Was he from another universe? Was it a magic user who’d sent him here? But why through a hole in the sky, why not just right at the ground? He also didn’t understand how he’d even survived the fall from that height, not to mention being hit so many times on the way. Was he maybe a meta? That could explain it, but something didn’t sit right with him. Whatever happened, he didn’t think a kid would deserve it. 

“So,” Jason came out of the kitchen, “Now we just wait, I guess.” 

Dick could see that he was still seething, a small flicker of green lingering in his eyes. It wasn’t exactly close to Pit Rage – Dick had learned to know when it got to that point – but the rage was still simmering. If the kid didn’t survive, Dick would need to act. 

Peter stirred awake, groaning. His hands automatically went up to his ribs, which he noticed was already almost healed by now. He then realized that he was touching skin, which was weird, because he was sure he’d had a shirt and a jacket on. He opened his eyes and sat up, only wincing slightly, blinking his surroundings into view; he was clearly in a bedroom. His heartbeat picked up, and his Peter-tingle was prickling, but didn’t alert him to any danger. He heard two heartbeats somewhere in the place he was, probably in the living room or kitchen if he were to guess. He noticed his shirt laying on the floor, cut up. He blinked, why had they cut off his shirt? One look down at his chest and it made sense. He had bandages wrapped around his chest. He looked to the door, shocked that the two people had apparently patched him up as best as they could. He rose out of the bed, grabbed his jacket and put it on, zipping it up. He left his shirt on the floor; won’t need that anymore. 

He was about to reach for the door handle, when his senses tuned in their voices, making him freeze. 

“Well, do you think he’s a meta?” one of them said. 

“I don’t know, but I don’t see how else he would have survived that fall if he wasn’t.” the other replied. 

Meta? What was that? 

“I don’t think he’s dangerous at least, but we need to talk to him before we can be sure. Do you think he’ll wake soon?” 

[They’re suspicious, but they don’t seem to have ill intentions. Do you want to talk to them, Peter? They can help you.] 

His Peter-tingle seemed to agree to the no ill intention part Karen said. 

“No,” he whispered, turning towards the window instead. He made quick work of opening it, and then he jumped out. It was about three stories down to the ground, but he’d jumped from higher altitudes and it was perfectly fine. Except, of course, that he wasn’t completely healed yet. He gritted his teeth together to keep himself from yelling out and leaned against the wall for support as he caught his breath. 

[I think you should go back, Peter. You’re in no shape to walk around right now.] 

“I’m fine, Karen,” he told her, sighing, “Where am I?” 

[I accessed the network while you were unconscious, and you’re in a place called Gotham. It’s located in New Jersey, but I believe it’s a different New Jersey than the one you’re used to.] 

Dr. Strange had said he’d send him to somewhere beyond their universe, including the multi-verse. Another dimension? Why would a completely different dimension have a New Jersey, though?

“Are all the states the same?” 

[Same states, and most of the cities seem to be the same as well, but there are some cities that are unfamiliar.] 

Okay, so New York existed. That was good, he could just say he moved from there recently. His stomach dropped, because if anyone checked, they wouldn’t find a record of him in New York. He needed to create an identity for himself, fast. 

“Karen, where is the nearest public library?” 

[I found one about twenty minutes away by foot. Are you sure you want to do this now? You still have injuries which will make walking that far difficult.] 

“Yes.” He gritted his teeth again, as he pushed himself out from the wall and started walking, Karen (reluctantly) guiding him. 

After twenty long, painful minutes he stood before a huge building with a sign that read GOTHAM PUBLIC LIBRARY. It could have been a smaller version of The White House, he thought. 

He straightened up, refusing to show the ache and the pain of moving, as he walked up the stairs and through the large doors. He expected to be full of people, but he could only see a few, maybe ten or twelve. His eyes scanned the entrance, before they fell on the receptionist. Her hair was a vivid red and her eyes were warm and kind as they met his. He walked up to her and gave her what he hoped was a normal smile. 

“Hi! Can I ask where the computers are?” 

“Hello, of course, they’re in the back,” she pointed to the back, “And there’s also some on the second floor,” she pointed to the second floor. 

“Thank you! Do I need a library card to use them?” he asked, tensing slightly. 

“No, you can use them without one for three hours. If you need more time than that, you will need a card,” she replied, tilting her head a little. 

The Peter-tingle let him know she was suspicious, but friendly, so he relaxed a little. 

“Thanks!” he lifted a hand in a wave as he hurried (as quickly as he could without showing pain) to the back. He definitely wasn’t going to try walking any stairs right now. 

He logged in as a guest to the computer, checking the date and time and he did a double take. August 8th, 2018. Like the blip never happened, like he hadn't been dead for five years. He stared at it, until he remembered why he was there. It didn’t even occur to him that it was only two days before his seventeenth birthday. 

“Okay, let’s create Peter Parker in this dimension,” he muttered, very quietly. 

Karen was a big help; searching through information on Gotham and the general world while he worked. He created himself a birth certificate, government ID, bank account, and social media accounts. He used Karen to upload the pictures he had stored with her of aunt May, his friends, and Mr. Stark. He made sure to date his accounts and posts years back and up until present day. He stopped posting pictures of Mr. Stark a year back, as well as the last of May half one month ago. A lump formed in his throat, but he pushed it away. He still had a lot of work to do; he also needed to create identities for his friends, May and Mr. Stark, as well. He made social media accounts and death certificates for all of them, including Ned and MJ. He wiped his face on his sleeve, as he couldn’t stop himself crying making them. 

He finished up with everything, refusing to process what he’d just done and instead focused on what Karen had told him about Gotham. It was basically run by this billionaire, Bruce Wayne, who had way too much money (probably more than even Mr. Stark) and adopted kids like he collected them. While Bruce Wayne all but controlled the city in the open, there were a bunch of vigilantes who controlled it during the night. Batman was clearly the leader, and he had multiple sidekicks. It seemed almost all of them had at some point been ‘Robin’, but then had moved on to other personas. Except for one, who was still Robin now. 

He found out that Gotham Academy was the equivalent of Midtown, and he was relieved that Midtown did exist in this dimension’s New York. When he found out that, he created a transcript, using his actual grades, and managed to edit himself into yearbooks and whatnots, with the help of Karen. He sent off an application to the Academy, attaching his transcript, and also applied for the Wayne Foundation Scholarship. He needed to pass an entrance exam, and the next one was a week from now. 

He checked the time and realized the three hours were almost up, so he permanently deleted all of his traces, and had Karen wipe it for good measure. 

As he rose from the chair, he noticed that the pain was only a weak dull by now. He let out a breath of relief, and made his way back to the entrance, glad that he didn’t have to pretend not to be in pain anymore. 

“Found everything alright?” the librarian smiled at him as he approached her. 

“Yeah, thanks! Actually, I wanted to check if I could get a library card? Or do I need an ID with me? Because it was stolen last night,” he said sheepishly. Based on what he’d found out about the crime rates in Gotham (seriously, it was the crime capital), he figured it was believable. 

“You new here?” she questioned. She was smiling, but he could see the calculations behind her eyes. 

“Yep! Moved here just a couple of days ago, actually.” 

She nodded, and then she smiled widely again. “You don’t need an ID, I can make you one without it. What’s your name, kid?”

“It’s Peter, Peter Parker,” he said, returning the smile. 

“Nice to meet you, Peter, I’m Barbara.” 

She then took his e-mail, phone number and date of birth, before handing him the library card. 

“Thans, Ms. Barbara! I’ll see you around,” he beamed at her, giving her a wave as he walked towards the doors. 

“You’re welcome, Peter, but just Barbara is fine,” she called after him. 

Now, all he needed was a place to stay. And a phone. And probably some food. Okay, so he needed money. But he should probably get a physical ID card first. 

“Karen, can you guide me towards the nearest police station?” 

[It’s close, approximately 200 meters down the road.] 

After filing the report of having his ID stolen, they informed him that the DMV would replace the ID and most likely waive the fee since he reported it stolen. He had told them he didn’t have a drivers license (Mr. Stark was supposed to teach him, but then he died, so), but they said they also issued non-driver IDs. He got a copy of the report, thanked them, and made his way to find the nearest DMV. 

It took a while, but he finally had an ID card, which he used to get a new card connected to his bank account as well. 

His stomach growled, and he realized how hungry he actually was. He had a high metabolism and needed to eat more calories than a normal kid his age, but he knew he couldn’t keep that up – yet. Even if he had a bank account, he didn’t have any money. Which left him dumpster diving. He scouted around some grocery stores and food markets to check if anything was still viable (and preferably still packed). He found some stale bread and donuts, which were still in their bags. Score. He also checked the dumpsters behind tech stores for things he could build a phone with. He needed equipment that would make him the smartest phone he could make out of scraps. 

Having all the bits, pieces and food he could find (and carry), it was time to find somewhere to stay. He walked around for some time until he came to ‘Park Row’. The actual street sign of Park Row was tagged over, and under it said ‘Crime Alley’. He could see why it was called that; it screamed dodgy, and his Peter-tingle was going hay-wire. Nothing too close by, but he could hear the gun shots as though they were right next to him. He tuned them out, trusting his Peter-tingle to let him know if they got close enough for him to actually pay attention to them. He pulled his jacket up til his ears and walked through the alley, looking for a place to stay. He found an old warehouse, but it didn’t look quite safe so he kept walking. 

Eventually, he came across a clearly run down and abandoned apartment building. The lower floors had broken windows, but the upper levels seemed to at least have intact windows. He looked around and checked in with his Peter-tingle to check for people around. When he couldn’t feel anyone close by, he crawled up the wall, and pried open a window. He slipped into the cold apartment, which was a studio. It contained a broken table, a dusty (and moldy) couch, and a single mattress in a corner. He walked into the bathroom and was pleased to find that it had running water, and that the toilet flushed. He checked the kitchen for running water, too, which it had. 

He looked down at the mattress and sighed at the stains. He didn’t want to think about what they could be but one of them was definitely blood. Since he still only had his jacket and no shirt, he opted to sleep in his clothes. It was probably a lot safer, too. He shivered slightly, and closed his eyes, falling into an uneasy sleep. 

Chapter Text

Jason was pissed. At himself, and with Dick. Mostly Dick. It was a miracle he hadn’t gone into Pit Rage yet, but he figured it was because the need to focus now outweighed the other. How could they not have heard the kid leave out the window? The window would definitely have made a noise. He would know, it always creaked when he opened it. Dick had talked way too much, so he was pissed at Dick. They stood in the empty bedroom, Jason with his arms crossed, giving Dick a death glare.

“How do you lose a kid, Dick? A severely injured kid?”

“Me?!” Dick exclaimed, “You didn’t hear him leave either!” 

“It’s three stories down, and no fire escape! He probably broke even more bones, and you just let him!” 

“Oh my god, Jason, shut up, I can’t listen to this,” Dick groaned and dragged his palms over his face, “This isn’t just my fault!” 

“Fine!” Jason exclaimed, throwing his hands up. 

“We need to find him, Jay, we can’t let him walk around out there alone like that,” Dick pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“I know, let’s go,” Jason said, storming out of the apartment, Dick right behind him. 

They walked around for hours, but saw no sign of the kid. Jason was losing it; the kid was probably laying in a ditch somewhere dead already. Or he’d been kidnapped and killed. Or mugged and killed. Or just dying right on the spot and melted into the ground when he jumped from the window. 

“I’m spiraling,” he said, stopping. 

Dick stopped abruptly and quickly walked over to him, placing his hands on his shoulders. 

“Okay, listen, it’s gonna be fine. He’s super fine! He survived the drop from the sky, so three stories is barely anything!” 

“Right, keep talking.” 

“We guessed he was a meta, maybe he has super healing? So maybe he’s all good now and he doesn’t even have any injuries anymore. He’s probably safe, staying with someone, or he found his way home or whatever. It’s fine, he’s fine, you’re fine, just breathe, Jay.” 

“Yep, okay, I’m good. Let’s keep going. I’m not giving up until we find him,” Jason breathed. 

But before they could get back to their search, Dick’s phone rang. He picked it out of his pocket, about to hang up when he saw it was Babs. 

“Hey, what’s up?” he said, mouthing ‘Babs’ to Jason, who just sighed and nodded. 

“Hey! So, I don’t know if it’s anything really, but a kid was just here and he looked pretty beat up. He was pretty good at pretending he wasn’t in pain, but it was clear on his face.” 

Dick froze, grabbing hold of Jason’s upper arm, shaking it. 

“We met a beat up kid, too! Hold on, I’m putting you on speaker, I’m with Jay,” he put the call on speaker, Jason stepping closer, listening intently. “Did you get his name?”

“Peter Parker. He got a library card, and he just used the computer for a while. I looked him up, and he seemed like a pretty normal kid. He did say he didn’t have any ID, that it got stolen last night. Do you think it’s the same kid you met?” 

“Well, I don’t think our kid got mugged, but our kid did fall out of the sky.” 

“...What?” Babs said, slowly. 

“Jason, look up Peter Parker, see if it’s him,” Dick gestured widely, ignoring Babs’ question. 

Jason was already on his own phone, doing exactly what Dick told him. His eyes widened, and he showed Dick the picture. 

“It’s him! It’s the kid we found!” Dick was practically jumping up and down. 

“Do you know where he went?” Jason asked, feeling rushed. 

“No, I didn’t exactly ask him a bunch of questions. But he only just left, maybe fifteen minutes ago.”

Dick quickly said bye and ended the call. 

“Okay, let’s think about this,” he said, eyeing Jason, “She said he seemed to be in pain, but not enough that he couldn’t try to pretend he wasn’t. So he’s up and walking, and that’s… incredible, to be honest.” Dick was truly baffled. 

So definitely meta, Jason thought. And from the look of his social media he was from New York. He needed to know if the kid, Peter, was going to stay in Gotham – or if he was going back to New York, before they said anything to Bruce. He quickly sent a text to Babs, letting her know not to tell anyone else about Peter. 

“He said he got his ID stolen, right?” Jason said and Dick nodded, “He might have, before he came out of the sky, but I doubt he even had one when he fell. So I think it’s likely he’d go to get one. Maybe the DMV?” 

“Okay, let’s check the closest one to the library.” 

They all but sprinted there, shoving their phones (both of them) into the face of the clerk, demanding to know if Peter had been there. The clerk swore up and down he hadn’t seen him, even checked with his coworkers, who hadn’t seen him either. 

“Wait, do you take fees for ID replacements?” Jason asked. 

“Just if there’s no police report reporting it stolen,” the clerk said, holding his hands up, clearly wary of the dangerous stares from Jason and Dick. They looked at each other, both thinking the same thing. Police station. 

They hadn’t seen him at the police station either. Dick was getting tired, and more and more worried. These were the ones that were closest to the library, he couldn’t have gone to any of the others, could he? 

“Dick, there’s another one the other way from the library, too, and it’s pretty much the same distance,” Jason said, already running back towards the library. 

Once they were outside the police station, Dick’s phone rang again. 

“Babs, what’s up? Did he come back?” Dick asked, excited. 

“No… But guys, why didn’t you just ask me to check the surveillance cameras of the police stations and the DMVs? Instead of running around like idiots?” 

Jason and Dick faltered. For detectives, they could be pretty dumb sometimes, apparently. 

“I blame Dick,” Jason said quickly.

“I blame you,” Dick sighed. 

“Well, while you figure that out, I can tell you he’s been to both the police station you’re outside and a DMV close by, but not the one you were at. But I lost sight of him, because you broke all the cameras in Crime Alley, Jason.” 

“He’s in Crime Alley?!” Jason exclaimed. “Why?!” 

“I don’t know! He was walking that way, he probably doesn’t even know what Crime Alley’s like,” Babs sighed, clearly tired of this conversation, “Anyway, that’s my job done. Talk to you later!” 

Barbara massaged her temples after that second call. For someone so smart, they could be total idiots. She wheeled up to the doors to lock up the library, before going up to the clock tower, getting ready to assist the rest of the bats on their patrols. She didn’t exactly expect Jay to patrol in any official capacity tonight, but she still hoped he would connect his comms. She also didn’t think Dick would head back to Blüdhaven tonight, and he might instead continue to stay with Jay to help him. 

Babs really loved how much Jay cared about the kids on the street, but she was thankful that Dick was there this time. This really might be a case that could push him over the edge, and it had been a long time since his Pit Rage had made an appearance, and she wasn’t too excited to see it again. It was always really bad. She let out a long sigh, before she turned on the several computer screens, surveying the streets of Gotham as she entered into the Oracle alter-ego.

“You there, Oracle?” Red Robin’s voice cut through the comms. 

“Yup, I’m here. You’re pretty close to what seems to be a very ugly mugging. I’ve sent you the location.” 

She watched as Red Robin entered the scene, taking out the perps easily. She dialled the police for pick up once he was done with them. 

“Have you got any trace of Mr. Freeze yet?” Reb Robin asked, adjusting his utility belt slightly. 

“Not yet, he seems to be hiding outside of camera view. He’s probably learned a lesson or two from the last times he’s been caught.” 

She heard Red Robin groan, not happy. He had a somewhat obsession with him, and having lost the trace he’d put on him a few days ago, he was going crazy. Babs knew that, because he’d been terrorizing her at all hours about it. 

“But,” she continued, “I found Frosty.” 

“What?! Where?” Red Robin piped up, suddenly excited. 

“It seems he’s hiding out in Mr. Freeze’s old ice cream factory. Might be worth a check. There’s no direct cameras in that location, so I can’t be a hundred percent sure, but let’s be honest, if I think he’s there, he’s most likely there. And who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky and Freeze’ll be there, too.” 

“Yes! I’m on my way!” Red Robin said, grinning widely. 

“No, you’re not,” Batman’s voice came from the comms. 

Oracle leaned back in her chair, smirking slightly. Though, she did feel a little bad for Red Robin. 

“What do you mean, I’m not? Of course I am!” Red Robin shot back at Batman. 

“If Frosty, and possibly Mr. Freeze is there, we need to come up with an actual plan and we’ll need all hands on deck to figure out what he’s planning before we instigate anything. You know this, Red Robin.” 

“Come on, Batman, please,” he pleaded. 

“No.” 

“Ugh, fine! I’ll just stick to the streets then,” he grumped, crossing his arms. 

“You can go home, Robin and I have got it tonight. You’ve been up for three days, and I’m ordering you to get some sleep,” Batman said, trying to use his strict-dad-but-not-quite-managing voice. 

“I can handle it, I’m not even tired,” Red Robin scoffed. 

“It’s an order. Do you want me to get Alfred on the line?” 

“...No.” 

Oracle heard Red Robin sigh, before he ran off towards the manor. 

“Has anything interesting happened yet, Oracle?” Robin’s voice piped up. She thought she heard a smugness in his voice, which she probably did, because he was always smug when Red Robin didn’t get his way. 

“Nope,” she popped the ‘p’, “Just normal stuff. Duke handled everything perfectly during the day, and by looking through the city there doesn’t seem to be much going on at all, actually.

Oh, wait, there’s an armed robbery happening at a jewelry store front by some thugs in Cherry Hill Park,” she said, having just seen it come up on her screens. 

Once Batman and Robin were on their way, she zoned into the cameras in the areas around Crime Alley; if Peter had ended up there, he would most likely have passed at least one or two of these cameras. She rewinded the camera tapes to get a better overview of the past few hours since after he’d left the library and then – bingo! – she found him. She saw him standing by a dumpster behind a grocery store, clearly looking around to check if someone was there, before he started rummaging through it. She grimaced when he picked out the food. She continued to follow his trail, and his continued dumpster diving, before she lost him as he went into Crime Alley. She sent off a quick text to Jay, letting him where he had been, and what he’d been doing. 

Jason was no closer to finding him now, than he had been earlier. He re-read the text from Babs multiple times, going to the exact dumpsters the kid, Peter, had been at, but there had been no trace. Dick was looking in the other direction, but hadn’t had any luck either. When they met up again in the middle of Crime Alley, Dick just sighed. 

“Maybe we should give up? Pick it back up tomorrow? He might have just found a place to stay for the night,” Dick suggested, defeat clear in his voice. 

“We can go to my place again, but only so I can change into costume,” Jason said, “Even if he may have found somewhere to sleep and won’t be on the ground any more tonight, I’m still going to keep watch here.”

He didn’t wait for Dick to reply before he stalked off, but he heard Dick follow him and soon catch up. 

A while after, Jason was in his Red Hood costume, sitting on the ledge of a roof, dangling his feet over the edge. Dick had opted to stay behind at the apartment, but he still kept watch through the windows. Neither of them caught sight of Peter that night, but Jason didn’t move until the sun started to rise. 

Who, and what, exactly, was Peter Parker? 

When Peter woke, it was still dark. He wasn’t feeling refreshed; his dreams had been filled with Aunt May and Mr. Stark dying, Ned and MJ’s faces becoming unrecognizable – like he was the one forgetting them, and not the other way around. The dream ended with the spell hitting his chest, which jerked him awake. 

He wasn’t really tired anymore, and even if he was, he didn’t want to sleep. He didn’t want to dream anymore. He sighed and sat up, wondering if he would ever feel okay again. Not wanting to think about his life, he got up and walked over to where he’d dropped all the stuff he’d picked out of the dumpster. Might as well get to work and create a phone. He had his webshooters still on his wrists, which Mr. Stark had also programmed a holographic projector into. He scanned the scraps he had to work with and had Karen help create a blueprint for the phone. He needed it to be as smart as possible,; include a police scanner, a CCTV overview, Karen had to be integrated there as well (obviously), and he needed it to not leave any traces, both if he needed to hack something, and to hide his location and not leave trails of where he’d been – if he’d been somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be. He would also need it to work without a SIM-card, including both cellular data and the ability to call and text (even though he didn’t have anyone to call nor text). He also wanted it to project a hologram as well, but he was missing pieces for that, so he had to shelf that for now. 

He was so focused on the work in his hands, that he only registered a heartbeat above him after he’d almost finished. He froze and listened closely; it was on the rooftop. He was two floors below the roof, and he had no lights on (except the glow of the hologram), so he didn’t think he had given himself away. 

The heartbeat felt familiar, somehow, and he realized with a jolt it belonged to one of the guys he’d woken up in the apartment of, the ones who Karen had advised him to go back to. He shut off the hologram, to make it completely dark, and then he moved to sit by one of the blind spots for the window, where he could see the window but he was still out of view, and he finished up his project. 

He turned the phone on and almost let out an audible ‘Yes!’, but caught himself just in time. Wouldn’t do him any good to be found now. He checked that everything he wanted worked, except the police scanner – he could test that later. He sat still in the little corner of the studio, watching through the window until the sun rose up from behind the buildings. As the sun came out, he also noticed that the heartbeat got fainter until it was gone. He let out a relieved breath, as he rose from the floor, stretching his arms above his head. 

He grabbed the food he’d found yesterday and all but inhaled it. He hadn’t eaten anything since before Aunt May… he shook his head, blinking away threatening tears. Don’t, he scolded his mind. 

He needed to get two things done as soon as possible now; get some clothes, and get a job. He had no money, so he knew he had to break his moral code of not stealing, but he really couldn’t apply for a job dressed like he was now. He didn’t even have a shirt; just a jacket with blood stains and ripped jeans. He also had his suits, still disguised as hearing aids, but he couldn’t exactly use those out and about. 

If he still wanted to be Spider-Man here, he needed to be really smart about it. He definitely had to wait a while, so no one would suspect him. Both a new, weird kid and a spider vigilante showing up at the same time? Yeah, like that wouldn’t be a dead give-away. So, clothes and work. That was the number one priority for now.

It seemed like a lot of places were torn down and destroyed, or just straight up abandoned – like the building he was currently sheltering in. He walked by a lot of stores that were long since emptied out, and the ones that even had some things left were not fit for work either (or life, to be honest). Eventually he came across an abandoned building that read GOTHAM MALL. Well, if anywhere would have what he needed it was probably here. 

“Karen, can you scan the mall, see if the building’s safe, or if there’s even anything in there?” he asked the AI. 

[Building is unstable, but poses no risk at the moment. There are several stores located inside, which seem to still carry goods.] 

“Nice,” Peter grinned, entering the mall. 

It wasn’t super big or anything, but it had two floors and it stretched into four sections. He saw a few clothing stores to the left and went to check it out. Out front the clothes were dirty and had enough holes in them to pretty much expose all of him. He walked further back and into the storage room, where he seemed to have more luck. He found a black sweater, some blue jeans that looked like they would fit (he would not be trying them on in here). He also saw a tattered backpack in the corner; clearly not a stock item, most likely someone left it (or forgot it). He grabbed it and emptied its contents, shoving the sweater and the jeans into it. He also grabbed a few basic t-shirts, another pair of jeans and a deep red hoodie. He looked around the storage room and found, to his great relief, both underwear and socks still wrapped in plastic packaging. Score. 

He located a staff room, which included a locker room with an actual shower. He checked that all the doors in both the staff room and the locker room were locked, before taking a quick, and very stressed, shower. He left his old clothes, along with the bandages he had still had wrapped around him, into one of the trash cans. He looked at himself in the mirror and frowned at the blast mark on his chest. Usually his scars faded pretty quickly (healing perks), but apparently not this. It was still pink and fresh looking. Maybe it just took more time, since it was magic. He looked away, and got dressed quickly and slung the backpack over his shoulders as he walked out into the air again. 

It was warm outside, but he still felt chilly. He ran a hand through his wet hair, ruffling a bit, as he walked through the streets of Gotham. The neighborhoods were uninviting; no one looked at each other, and everyone carried weapons of some kind. His Peter-tingle was buzzing constantly, but not fully alerting him of danger. He figured most of these people had the weapons for self-defense uses only. He pulled the hoodie over his head, pulling it as close down his face as he could without obscuring too much of his line of sight. He stopped when he arrived at a small coffee shop with a sign in the window saying ‘WE’RE HIRING!’. 

“Hi! I saw the sign outside, that you’re hiring?” Peter smiled widely at the person behind the counter. 

“Aren’t you in school?” the person asked, furrowing his brows skeptically. 

“Sure, but it’s summer vacation, and even when it starts back up I can still work part-time if you’ll have me,” he countered, still smiling. 

“Alright, what’s your name kid?” 

Huh. That was easy. 

“It’s Peter Parker, sir,” he said. 

“Gotcha. Bob’s the name,” Bob pointed to himself. 

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Bob.” 

Mr. Bob sighed. 

“You ever worked in a cafè before?”

“Nope, but I’m a really quick study so I’m sure I’ll pick it up super fast.” 

Mr. Bob showed Peter the ropes of the place; taught him how to use the register and how to make the different types of coffees and teas they had on their menu. It was still pretty early, so barely anyone had stopped by yet. Only a few people grumpily ordered their coffees, which Peter had been allowed to make, with close supervision. None of them stayed, opting for take-aways instead. He also realized none of them tipped, which kind of annoyed him. Oh, he hadn’t asked about the pay here, he realized. 

“Uh, Mr. Bob, what’s the pay here, anyway?” he asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. 

“Ten dollars an hour, plus tips,” Mr. Bob said, before taking out his phone and stopped acknowledging him. 

Well, at least it was better than the zero dollars an hour he’d made up until this point.

Chapter Text

When Peter woke up the next day, it was thanks to Karen. She’d made the hearing aids buzz violently, shaking him awake. 

“Karen, what the hell?!” he groaned.

[Happy Birthday, Peter.] 

She then proceeded to sing him the Happy Birthday-song. 

Oh. Right. Seventeen. The thought of his birthday didn’t exactly bring him any joy anymore. He didn’t have anyone to celebrate with; none of the people he loved or cared about were here. They didn’t even know him, or that it was his birthday. He might as well just not have a birthday anymore. 

“It’s just a regular day,” he mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 

[It’s a special day, Peter. You should celebrate.] 

He almost laughed. “Celebrate? With who?” 

[You can celebrate with me.] 

“Thanks, Karen, I’ll think about it,” he sighed. 

With the small amount of money he’d gotten at work the day before, he’d managed to buy some actual food. He sat atop the kitchen counter, eating cereal, when Karen piped up. 

[You’ve got an e-mail from Gotham Academy.] 

Peter nearly choked on the cereal, and clumsily fumbled the phone out of his pocket. 

Peter skimmed over the e-mail, his smile growing wider and wider. He would be sitting the entrance exam in four days, which would decide if he, not only got accepted, but also if he got accepted with the Wayne Foundation. He really needed that scholarship, there was no way working part-time at the coffee shop would cover tuition and other things he needed. Maybe he might get a dorm there, as well, and he could move out of this awful place. 

[Congratulations, Peter. It’s like a birthday gift.] 

“Thanks,” he smiled, still looking at the e-mail. 

After reading and re-reading the e-mail (and having Karen read it to him), just to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood something and it was actually a rejection e-mail, he checked for the time. It was seven hours until he had to be at work, so he figured he should stop by the library again. If he wanted to do well enough on the exam, he needed to read up more on Gotham history as he figured that was one of the subjects they would test in. The e-mail didn’t say what he would be tested in, but it said they’d send another e-mail the day before with all relevant information. He could guess, though, based on the list of classes on their webpage. He knew he’d do great in science, physics, biology, maths, and P.E (though he doubted P.E would be on the exam, it seemed to be more of a written exam), but maybe not great in english, social studies or history. After all, he didn’t know this dimension. 

He found himself outside of the library twenty minutes later, and it was thankfully open. Ms. Barbara was sitting by the desk as he walked in, and she gave him a bright smile. 

“Peter! Welcome back.” 

“Hi, Ms. Barbara, thanks!” he smiled back at her. 

“Didn’t I tell you to drop the ‘Ms’?” she squinted at him. 

“Sure, but I’m polite that way,” Peter shrugged. 

She sighed. “Anyway! What’s bringing you here this early?” 

“Oh, um, I applied to be transferred to Gotham Academy, so I have an entrance exam soon and I just wanted to brush up on some stuff beforehand. I mean, I don’t know a lot about Gotham yet, since I just moved here, and I want to do well, so yeah, that’s why I’m here. This early,” he rambled, finishing off lamely. 

“How exciting! I know some of the students there, they’re great,” she grinned. 

“Oh, that’s nice,” he nodded, rubbing his neck. He didn’t exactly plan to make any friends here. He didn’t want anyone else to be affected by his ‘Parker Luck’ and get hurt. “Anyway, I’m just gonna… go look at some books, if that’s alright.” 

“Sure, no problem,” Ms. Barbara said, looking a little too closely at him. It felt like she knew what he’d been thinking. He shrugged the paranoia away. 

“Oh, and Peter?” she called after him. 

“Yeah?” he said, turning his head to look at her. 

“Happy birthday.” 

“How–” his eyes widened, “Oh, when I signed up for the card, right. Thanks.” 

He didn’t look back again as he walked a little more quickly away from the front desk. 

He decided to check out the second floor this time; stairs didn’t intimidate him so much anymore. He scoured the labels on the shelves around the top floor until he had a good stack of books picked out. He didn’t bother finding any materials on the subjects he knew he’d do well in right now, his only focus was learning more about Gotham, and the universe it existed in. 

He read more up on the wars, the super-heroes, vigilantes and villains all over, the rules and laws, and the geography. He’d read the overall stuff of Gotham last time he was here, but not really in depth, and not really a lot about the rest of this semi-new America and world. It was jarring that there were a lot of similarities to his (old) dimension, when this dimension wasn’t even part of the multi-verse he’d experienced. No one he’d known before even existed here, not even a single namesake. Which was weird, because some of the people he’d known had really common names. 

The villains in Gotham were the most fun to read about; some of them were just straight up fucking weird, like Condiment King. How was he even real, like, who thinks up that stuff? ‘Oh hey, I’m gonna be this weird villain who shoots condiments at people – fear me’. 

The worst were Scarecrow and the Joker. The weapons they used were insane, and it seemed terrifying to be on the other end of them. They were locked up now, he read, but Gotham seemed unable to keep their villains locked up for long. They could probably use a prison like The Raft. 

Superman was one hero who seemed super cool. He was incredibly strong, and also an alien. Peter had some experience with aliens, which weren’t really great. Except the few aliens who fought on their side in the war. He tensed slightly at his own thoughts, like he always did when he thought about the war. Don’t go there, not now, he told himself. 

“Go where?” a low voice said. 

Shit, he’d actually said that out loud. He looked up and saw a kid with narrowed eyes surveying him. He looked like he was maybe nine or ten, but the expression on his face held the suspicion of someone a lot older. 

“Nowhere,” Peter said, putting the book down. 

“Are you crazy?” the boy asked. 

“Super crazy, you should probably stay away from me.” 

“Tt, you are joking. It is not funny to joke about that here,” he grunted. 

“Okay, my bad,” Peter shrugged, “Who’re you, then?” 

“Damian Wayne.” 

Damian Wayne, one of Bruce Wayne’s kid, he remembered. 

“I’m Peter Parker.” 

“Okay. I have not seen you before.” 

“And you’ve seen everyone in Gotham before?” Peter raised an eyebrow. 

“I meant at the library.” 

“Oh. Right. Well, I’m new to town, moved here a few days ago,” he said, and then pointed to the books, “I’m studying for the entrance exam to the Academy.” 

Damian hadn’t asked about what he was doing there, but he figured it would be his next question. And Peter always had problems with talking too much, anyway. 

“I see,” Damian said. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I am drawing. Or, I was, until you disturbed me,” he tutted. 

“You could have just ignored it and continued, instead of starting a conversation, you know.” 

He could have sworn a pink flush crept over his cheeks, which made him grin. Damian didn’t reply, though, just turned back to his drawing. 

“What are you drawing?” he asked, not quite ready to let him go. 

Damian held up the drawing and Peter did a double take. It was him, leaning over his books with a deep concentrational look on his face. It was really good. 

“Whoa, that’s me.” 

“How astute of an observation of you,” Damian rolled his eyes. 

“It’s really good! Can I have it?” he asked excitedly. 

“I am not finished with it. But you may have it when I am done,” he gave a small, sharp nod. 

“I had a friend who drew a lot,” he said, wincing slightly as he did, “She also drew people, but only people in distress.” 

“In distress? Why?” 

“More fun, she said. She had a dark sense of humour, I guess,” Peter shrugged. 

Damian looked down at the drawing, frowning a little. 

“Maybe I will try to do that, with my brother,” he said quietly. Peter probably wouldn’t have heard it if he didn’t have heightened hearing. 

“Your brother?” he quipped. 

Damian squinted at him, clearly he didn’t think Peter heard him. 

“Yes. Tim Drake. I do not like him very much.” 

“Oh, then I’m sure it’ll be way more fun to draw him in distress then,” Peter grinned. Damian did not return the grin. 

“I’ll let you get back to your drawing,” he said, “And I’ll get back to studying.”

“That is fine. I believe I will be finished with the drawing by tomorrow, you may have it then.” 

“Same time as now?” 

“Yes.” 

“Awesome,” Peter grinned more widely, before turning back to the books again. 

Damian didn’t stay long after, leaving Peter alone again. He didn’t say goodbye when he left, but that was okay. He had been oddly formal for a kid. Did Bruce teach his kids to speak like that, or was Damian just a special case? Nonetheless, Peter found him to be a funny kid, and he felt himself getting excited to see him again tomorrow – and getting the drawing. 

He caught himself in the excitement, trying to push it down. He shouldn’t feel excitement for that, or making any connections. He just wanted to keep his head low, graduate and find something to do. Probably something where he could work alone, maybe a lab somewhere. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of his distracting thoughts, as he returned to the books in front of him. 

Half an hour before work started, he put away the books where he’d found them. He didn’t want to lend them, he would be back tomorrow anyway. He’d probably be back every day until he was done with the exam. 

He said goodbye to Ms. Barbara as he left, heading straight for the metro to get to work. It didn’t take long with the metro, but the stop was still a ten minute walk from the coffee shop, so he ran and just made it on the clock. 

“Sorry I’m late!” he panted, bending down to catch his breath. 

“You’re not? You’re right on time,” the manager said, raising an eyebrow at him. 

He gave a thumbs up, standing up straight and hurrying to the back to change into uniform. 

The shop was busier today than yesterday, which suited Peter just fine. He didn’t have time to let his thoughts run wild to places he didn’t want to go. More people sat down as well, instead of taking their stuff to go. Peter himself purchased a club sandwich and a chocolate cake, inhaling it in the break room in a rare quiet moment. His manager saw him, and told him he could just take it instead of buying it. 

The manager didn’t actually do a lot of work, he mostly sat in the back scrolling on his phone and only coming out once in a while to check on him. So Peter did everything from taking orders, making the coffees and cleaning up after people. He hadn’t gotten a hang of carrying stuff like an actual server yet, so it took a few trips sometimes to get the tables cleaned up. 

Peter didn’t really pay attention to who came and went, just focusing on the work, until four teenagers came in. They looked to be around his age. They were laughing about something as they came in, and Peter had to do a double take. One of them was really, really beautiful. He had dark hair parted in the middle, and a smirk playing on his lips – clearly he had been the one to make the others laugh. Three of them sat down, while the hot guy walked up the counter. His eyes were a piercing kind of blue, a contrast to his dark hair. 

“Hi,” he greeted, and Peter just made a strangled noise, “Can I have two white mochas and two large, black coffees?” 

“Uh huh,” Peter said, fumbling with the terminal. The boy cocked his eyebrow at him. 

He didn’t stick around for the payment to go through, just went to make the coffees. He could feel his cheeks starting to burn and he desperately hoped the guy didn’t notice. When he dared to look up, he’d already gone to sit down with his friends. Peter really wanted to listen in on their conversation, but he didn’t, it wasn’t very nice to eavesdrop. 

[Your heart rate spiked, Peter. Are you all right?] 

“Yes,” he snapped quietly, “Sorry,” he added, guilty about snapping at her. 

“Here’s your coffees,” he said, placing the tray with the drink on their table, before moving them to the middle of the table; he didn’t know which belonged to who. He turned to walk away, but one of the girls spoke up. 

“Are you new here? We’ve been coming here forever, but I’ve never seen you here before?” the girl said. She had blond hair tied back in a pony tail and she smiled at him. Her eyes were hardened though, but not dangerous. His Peter-tingle hadn’t gone off. 

“Oh, yeah, I just started here yesterday actually. I’m new in town, also, so figured it was good to get a job, at least part-time for now,” he rambled, pointedly not looking at the guy even though he could feel him staring at him. 

“Welcome,” the other girl, with black short hair, signed to him while she spoke quietly. 

“Thanks,” he signed back with a smile. 

Her eyes widened slightly and she tilted her head curiously at him. 

“You can speak sign language?” she signed. 

“Yeah, I had a friend who was hard-of-hearing so I learned it,” he signed back, grinning at her. “And also, this,” he added, pointed to Karen’s disguise as hearing aids. He wasn’t hard-of-hearing himself, but she did make them help against sensory overload and they could block out all sounds and voices, making it way easier to engage with sign language. 

“Do you speak any other languages?” the hot guy asked before the girl could sign anything, forcing Peter to actually look at him. He felt himself blush again, and inwardly groaned. Why did he always have to have such visible emotions? 

“Uhh, spanish and italian, and a little g-german,” he stammered, continuing to sign to include the girl – even though the guy hadn’t. 

“Cool,” he said, reaching for both of the black coffees. 

“What’s your name?” the blond girl asked, leaning closer over the table towards him. 

“Peter Parker.” 

“Nice to meet you,” she continued to grin, “I’m Steph, this is Cass,” she pointed to the girl who talked in sign, “Duke,” she pointed to the other guy, with tan skin and short black hair, “And Tim,” she pointed to the hot girl. 

“Tim Drake?” he said, before he could stop himself. 

Tim frowned at him. 

“Sorry!” he quickly said, holding up his hands. He did not want to come off as a stalker. “I met this kid, Damian, and he mentioned you.” 

“You met Damian? And he mentioned Tim?” Duke said, mouth agape. 

“Uhh, yeah, is that weird?” he asked, remembering that Damian said he didn’t like Tim, so yeah, it probably sounded weird to them. 

“Super weird,” Steph nodded. 

“Anyway… I should get back to work, there’s a… line,” he said, dumbly, because as he turned around there wasn’t a line. 

He all but ran into the break room since there wasn’t a line, cursing himself on the way there. He groaned and hit his forehead against one of the locker rooms. 

“I’m so stupid, oh my god,” he muttered to himself. 

[I don’t think you’re stupid, Peter.] 

“Thanks Karen,” he sighed. 

Tim was intrigued by Peter Parker. He looked very innocent, like a teddy bear, and he found it pretty weird that someone would choose to move to Gotham. He was also cute, which surprised Tim that he thought, because he hadn’t actually thought anyone was cute or attractive since Bernard. It wasn’t that long since they’d broken up, just a few months ago. They’d left the coffee shop once they’d finished their drinks, and Peter hadn’t stopped by their table again so they hadn’t said goodbye, which made him a little disappointed. 

“You thought he was cute, didn’t you?” Steph said, prodding a finger into his side. He moved away from her quickly, scooting further down the couch in his room in the manor. 

“No, I didn’t,” he said, but he could feel his ears heating up. 

“Oh, my god, you did!” Steph reeled, giggling. 

“Shut up!” he snapped, throwing a pillow at her. 

“I wonder what Damian said about you to him,” Duke mused, interrupting the quarrel between Tim and Steph. 

“Nothing good, probably,” Tim grunted. 

“Ask,” Cass said. 

“Ask Damian?” Tim looked at her incredulously. 

“Yes. Ask.” 

“I’ll go fetch him,” Steph said happily, while Tim groaned and buried his face in his hands. 

A few minutes later Steph came back, dragging Damian in by his wrist. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Damian snapped, “Why did you bring me here? I was busy.” 

“We heard you met Peter Parker today, and you mentioned Tim! What did you say?” Steph giggled, plopping back down next to Tim. Tim still had his face in his hands. 

Damian crossed his arms across his chest, glaring at them. 

“Tt, he tattled on me?” 

“Nah, he just knew Tim’s last name and said it was because you mentioned him,” Duke shrugged. “So what’d you say?” 

“I said I do not like him.” 

“Oh, my god,” Tim groaned into his hands. 

“What else did you talk about?” Steph asked, very interested. 

“Why would I tell you?” he asked, rolling his eyes. 

“Because I asked nicely? Please?” Steph gave her best puppy dog eyes, which she knew didn’t work on him, but worth a try anyway. 

“Tt, we talked about my art, he gave me a new idea,” Damian just shrugged and Steph looked so happy her puppy dog eyes worked she nearly jumped in glee, “And him studying for the entrance exam to Gotham Academy.” 

Tim’s head snapped up. 

“He’s gonna go to the Academy?” 

“I do not know, he will have to pass the exam first, will he not?” 

“What did you mean, a new idea?” Duke asked. 

Damian smirked then, “Secret.” 

“You can’t drop out now,” Steph teased Tim, “You won’t see him every day, then.” 

Tim glared at her, but he couldn’t help but agree.. Maybe he’d stay for their senior year. For educational purposes, obviously. Bruce would be happy about that. 

Jason was walking up and down Crime Alley, waiting to see if he could find Peter. Babs had called him after he’d come back to the library again. He’d initially been upset by the fact she hadn’t called when he’d actually gotten there, but Babs had said he needed to study, and Jason coming to find him would definitely not help. So now he knew one more thing about him; he had applied to Gotham Academy. That would make it easier to find him, if he couldn’t locate him before that. 

Dick had gone back to Blüdhaven earlier that day, not able to justify staying in Gotham for days on end when there wasn't a case he was needed on. But he’d made Jason promise to update him if he found Peter. 

Jason scanned the streets, and the rooftop and did a double take. Someone was standing on the ledge of one of the rooftops. He felt himself panic a little, scared they were going to jump. He ran for the building and up the fire escape until he reached the roof – and there he was. Peter. 

“Step away from the ledge, kid,” he said slowly, holding his arm out. 

Peter turned to face him. 

“You’re stalking me,” he said flatly, not moving, “Why?” 

Jason was taken aback by that. How had he known he’d been looking for him? 

“Not everyday a kid falls out of the sky,” he said, keeping his voice even. 

“Right. Thanks for the bandages, I guess,” he said, and Jason noticed he too was trying to keep his voice even. 

“You know that was me?” 

“I heard your voice through the door.” 

“Why’d you leave?” 

Peter shrugged and started walking back and forth on the ledge, making Jason move closer. 

“I didn’t need your help, and I didn’t want to answer questions,” Peter said, turning his head away from him. 

“I see. What’s your name?” he asked, not wanting to out Babs. 

“That’s a question.” 

“I’m Jason Todd,” he said. 

“Another one of Wayne’s?” he asked, turning to face him again with a frown. 

“Another?” 

“I’ve already met Damian, Steph, Cass, Duke and Tim,” Peter said, and finally jumped off the ledge. Jason felt his body relax. 

“Damn, that's almost everyone, then. Do they know your name? I don’t want to feel left out,” Jason said, trying to smile. 

“Sure, I told them,” he hesitated for a moment, “It’s Peter Parker.” 

“Where are you staying?” Jason said, and he noticed Peter tensing up, looking uncomfortable. “You’re homeless,” he said, frowning at him. 

“I’m not homeless,” Peter said quietly, “I have a place I sleep.” 

“Wanna stay with me?” Jason asked, surprising himself slightly. He’d met countless kids who were homeless, but had never offered his own place – he’d rather taken them to the shelter. 

Peter’s eyes widened slightly, before he shook his head. 

“No, thanks, I’m good,” he muttered. 

Peter refused to meet his eyes, which made Jason believe that he actually wanted to say yes. 

“Alright, but at least come and have dinner?” 

Peter opened his mouth, probably to refuse, but was interrupted by his stomach growling pretty loudly. 

“Guess that’s a yes, then,” Jason smirked. 

Peter looked a little disgruntled, but he followed him nonetheless, which was a huge win in Jason’s book. 

“Are you allergic to anything?” Jason asked when they entered his apartment. 

“Citrus and peppermint,” Peter muttered, looking around the apartment. 

“Gotcha,” Jason said, walking into the kitchen. Peter followed him. “Well, I have… bread and cheese.” 

“Okay,” Peter said. 

“You can sit down,” Jason pointed to the couch. Peter hesitated, but went to sit down. 

Jason watched him as he made the sandwiches, noticing how uncomfortable he seemed. It almost seemed like he wasn’t used to being around people, or that something bad had happened making him bring up heavy walls around himself. That made sense though, something bad had probably happened for him to fall out of the sky like that, seeing as some of his wounds had been from before arriving here, as well. 

“What happened? Before you came here, I mean,” Jason asked, carefully, not expecting a straight answer. 

Peter shifted his body, looking to the door, “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said quietly. 

“Alright, I get it. No questions.” 

Peter looked at him then, and he could have sworn he saw the corners of his mouth twitch. 

They ate in silence, and Jason watched him the whole time. It probably made Peter even more uncomfortable, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to make sure the kid was okay. Well, as okay as possible anyway. 

“Can I go now?” Peter asked once he had finished eating. 

“If you want. You can stay also, the offer still stands,” Jason said. 

“No, thanks. I want to go home.” 

“Okay,” Jason nodded, frowning. He was certain Peter didn’t have a ‘home’, but he wouldn’t force him to stay. “Can I walk you home, at least?” 

“No, I’d rather you didn’t.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I don’t know you, and I don’t want you to know where I live,” Peter sighed, clearly tired as he rose from the couch. 

Jason didn’t reply as Peter walked towards the door, even though he wanted to. With a hand on the door knob Peter turned and looked at him, and now there was definitely a small smile on his face. 

“Thanks for dinner, Mr. Todd.” 

And then he was out, before Jason could tell him not to call him ‘Mr.’. 

Chapter Text

The cold, high pitched laughter sent chills down his spine, freezing him to the spot. The words ‘You’re the one who killed her’ rang through his ears over and over and over. The Green Goblin–he refused to call this Norman–rose from the ground and moved to stand over him, reaching his arm out to wrap his thin, bony fingers around his throat. 

The touch unfroze him, but he quickly realized he didn’t have his webshooters, or even his suit, anymore. He grabbed at the arm around his neck, trying to tear it off. The Green Goblin was even stronger than he remembered, and he struggled to pry the hand away. It felt as impossible as it had felt trying to get Thanos’ glove off. But he refused to let the Green Goblin win again, and dug deep to find more strength. He’d found it before when he needed it, he could do it this time, too. 

Finally–finally–the hand came away from him. He held it by the wrist, and twisted it hard, until he heard the pleasing ‘crunch’ sound. The Green Goblin looked shocked for a second, before he laughed that laugh again; that laugh that still tormented Peter. 

“Do it, boy,” he dared him, grinning madly. 

And Peter obliged as his fist connected with his jaw. It felt just as good as he remembered, so he hit him again, and again. Until he was on the ground. But he was still laughing. Peter stood over him, shaking and panting, eyes blazing. And The Green Goblin laughed. Someone called out for him to stop, but he couldn’t hear who before everything turned to ringing in his ears, and soon that was all he could hear. He couldn’t hear the laughter, or the voice who’d called out, only the ringing and the sound of his own blood rushing through him. His head felt like it was going to explode. 

He reached down to pull The Green Goblin up by the fabric on his chest, getting ready to hit him again. His lips moved, and while Peter still couldn’t hear him, he could read his lips; ‘Do it, you know you want to’. And he did, he wanted it so badly, no matter the cost. He raised his fist again and channelled all his power into the next punch–

[Peter! Peter!] 

A shock went through his body and his eyes flung open. Panting, shaking and confused, he looked around. There was no Green Goblin in the room, just him, standing up on the bed. His hand was stuck in the wall; he’d punched through it. He just stared at it, heart racing, as sweat dripped into his eyebrows.  

[Peter!] 

He felt Karen’s voice in his ears, but he couldn’t focus on it, or make himself speak. He still had the sinister laugh mixed with this constant ringing in his ears, drowning out almost everything else. 

[Peter!] 

He pulled his hand out of the wall, looking at his bloody knuckles. He could still feel The Green Goblin’s jaw. 

[Peter!] 

His legs caved in and he doubled over, his breath hitching. He pressed the bloody hand into the bed, digging his fingernails into his palm. He wrapped the other arm around his chest, clawing it around his t-shirt and the skin underneath. 

[Peter!] 

He let out a scream and fell forward, pressing his face into the mattress and covering his ears with his arms. 

[Peter!] 

“No!” he screamed. 

He felt the shock through his body again and he jerked himself up, panting. 

[Peter! Breathe!] 

He closed his eyes, trying his hardest to steady himself. It was a dream, a nightmare, it wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It was real. He managed to crawl out of the bed and to the kitchen sink. He fumbled with the tap (God, why couldn’t he stop shaking?), and once the water was cold enough he splashed his face with it; one time, two times, three times. As he turned the water off, he slid down the wall to the floor, wrapping his legs tightly to his chest, and finally allowed himself to just cry for everything he had lost. 

When Jason woke up the next morning, he had seventeen texts from Dick and nine missed calls. He’d texted him during the night after he’d been patrolling, telling him he’d found Peter and that he’d been at his place for a bit, before he’d gone to bed. Which had resulted in the seventeen texts asking for updates. 

He decided to just call him back instead, not even bothering reading through all the texts. 

“Morning,” Jason yawned into the call. 

“Morning?! Morning?! That’s what you’re gonna say?” 

“Uh, yeah?” he yawned again and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. 

“Tell me everything!” Dick demanded. 

Jason proceeded to tell him everything, which really wasn’t that much. He told him about finding Peter on the rooftop and talking to him there, mentioning that he’d met the other bat-kids, and having him over for dinner. 

Before Dick could ask, Jason said he didn’t get to ask any questions. 

“Nothing?” Dick sounded disappointed. 

“No, he said he wouldn’t answer questions,” Jason sighed, “I’ll work on it, but nothing right now. Oh, except I’m pretty sure he’s homeless.” 

“Damn, of course he is,” Dick cursed. “You think he’d go to the shelter or something?” 

“Nah, he didn’t say he was homeless, but it wasn’t too hard to guess. I offered to let him stay here, but he said he had ‘somewhere to sleep’.” 

“That was… weirdly nice of you.” 

“Well, I’m a super nice person, so obviously.” 

Dick scoffed. 

“Anyway,” Jason said, “I’ll continue to keep an eye on him, trying to get him to trust me and we’ll just take it day by day I guess.” 

“Sounds good. I’ll be back in town in a few days, we can catch up, then,” Dick said, and Jason could hear him nodding along. “Should we tell Babs?” 

“Yeah, I think we should,” Jason agreed, “But not anyone else yet.” 

“Alright, I’ll give her a call and update her. See ya, Jaybird!” 

Having managed to move from the wall in the kitchen, to lying sprawled out on the floor in the middle of the studio instead, Peter thought he’d done alright. It was tempting to just stay here on the floor for the rest of his life, just rotting into a new spot on the wood. But he couldn’t, he had to work later.

[Peter, you’re going to be late if you don’t leave soon.] 

“Late? For what?” he asked Karen, frowning. 

[You’re meeting Damian at the library in half an hour, to get your drawing.] 

He sat up straight from the floor, eyes wide. Oh, right, he’d forgotten about that. Could he call the library and get Ms. Barbara to let Damian know he wouldn’t make it? No, that wouldn’t be very nice. 

He made it to the library a few minutes before he was supposed to meet him, and he quickly greeted Ms. Barbara before heading to the second floor. He didn’t see Damian anywhere yet, so he figured he should try to get some studying done before then. He picked out a few science and physics books, just to check if it was pretty much the same here. 

“Hello, Parker,” Damian’s voice came from beside him. He looked up from the book and smiled at him. 

“Hi! You came.” 

“Of course I came. I told you I would,” he said.

Peter grinned at him and pushed out the chair on the other side of the table with his foot. Damian sat down and put his backpack onto the table, pulling out his sketchbook. Peter pushed his books away, leaning over the table. 

“Here,” Damian said, pulling the drawing out of the book and holding it out to him. 

Peter had thought it looked amazing yesterday, but he’d really been telling the truth when he said it wasn’t finished. He wasn’t exactly ‘good’ at art like drawing or painting, his skill was mostly in building things, but even he could tell that this was amazing. It would probably look like a photograph if you didn’t look at it too close. 

“This is… wow,” he said, staring from the drawing to Damian and back, “Are you sure I can have it? Don’t you have, like, a portfolio to put it in for the future or something like that?” 

“I am sure, I do not need it,” Damian replied, crossing his arms over his chest, and Peter could see a faint pink flush across his cheeks. 

“Thank you, it’s really… wow,” Peter breathed, grinning widely at him. 

“You are welcome," Damian said, rising from the chair, "I have to go now, but I will see you around, Parker.” 

Peter waved at him as he left, a little surprised at the sudden take of leave, before he went back to staring at the drawing. He looked so focused; his brows were furrowed slightly and he was chewing on his lip. His head was leaned into one of his palms, while the other was supposed to flip through the pages of one of the books in front of him. He wondered if he always looked like that when he was studying, or just being focused. 

He carefully placed the drawing into the laptop pocket in his own backpack, before he went back to the books in front of him. 

He quickly realized that this dimension was behind in tech. They had some cutting edge stuff, but they clearly hadn’t had the kind of tech here that they’d gotten from Mr. Stark and Wakanda back in his own dimension. He knew all the things from the books he was reading, so he just had to make sure he didn’t reference anything that only existed in his old dimension. He could do that. 

He went back to reading up on his lesser subjects, flipping through the pages and trying to memorize what he read. His head was hurting, but he tried not to acknowledge it. He knew why, and he didn’t want to deal with it. He sighed and checked the time; it had been an hour since Damian had left now, and it would be another two hours until his shift started. Maybe he could walk there instead, he’d probably make it if he left now. 

“How’s the studying going?” Ms. Barbara asked when he passed her on his way out. 

“Good, I think?” he said, smiling sheepishly. 

“Nice,” she grinned, “You think you’ll get in, then?” 

“Yeah, I’m pretty confident about it,” he nodded. 

“That’s great! You don’t get nervous before exams, then?” 

“Uh, not really,” Peter replied, shifting a little, “Anyway, I’ve got work, so I need to go. Bye, Ms. Barbara!” 

He waved at her before he exited the library, crashing into someone. 

“S-Sorry!” he gasped. 

“Peter?” 

Peter looked up, and his eyes widened as he met Mr. Todd’s eyes. Fuck. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, a little more accusatory than he probably should have. But then again, he’d been stalking him, so. 

“My friend works here,” Mr. Todd said. 

“Your fri– Ms. Barbara?” 

“Yep, that’s the one. Though, she hates to be called that.” 

“Gotcha. Well, I need to go. Bye, Mr. Todd, don’t follow me!” and then Peter ran. 

“Call me Jason!” he called after him. 

Peter didn’t stop running until he was sure he wasn’t followed. He hadn’t heard his heartbeat actually following him, but he just had to be sure. He didn’t want him to know where he worked, even though he logically knew he would find out eventually–if he didn’t already. Half of his siblings already knew, so he figured it was inevitable. He winced at the word he thought–inevitable–it brought back bad memories. 

He’d decided against walking to work, and instead took the metro, planning to just ask if he could start earlier. He needed to not think about his life for a while. 

The manager thankfully didn’t have anything against him starting early, but he did say he wouldn’t get paid until his actual shirt started, which was fine by Peter. It was also the first shift he would actually be working with someone, since their shift hadn’t ended yet, and wouldn’t actually end until his own shift was three hours in. 

His co-worked was a college girl who chewed gum obsessively, popping bubbles every other minute. At some point he had to turn down the sound he could hear, with Karen’s hearing aids being a great help with that. She didn’t seem all that interested in working (did no one else actually do any work here beside him?) and kept talking about whoever annoyed her at campus. He supplied a lot of ‘That sucks’, ‘Mm’, “Yeah’, as he tried not to listen. 

It was another slow day, which annoyed him. This was the first day he’d actually needed it to be busy, but as always, the universe was decidedly not on his side. Just as he thought that the door opened and Jessica–the co-worker–exclaimed “Oh, my god, he’s so hot.”

Peter looked up and first noticed Tim. He stood up a bit straighter, suddenly very aware of how messy his hair probably was. But he soon realized Jessica wasn’t talking about Tim, but rather his company. Peter actually groaned and buried his face in his hands. It was Mr. Todd. 

“Oh, my god.” 

 “‘Sup, Peter,” he grinned and Peter slowly moved his hands from his face, glaring at him. 

“I was sort of joking, but you are actually stalking me, aren’t you?” 

“What?” Tim said, frowning and looking between the two of them, “You know each other?” 

“We’ve met,” Mr. Todd said, smiling widely with a spark in his eyes, “But I’m not stalking you now, it was actually Timmer’s idea to get coffee here.” 

“Oh,” Peter said, feeling himself flush, which only made Mr. Todd’s smile wider. He pointedly did not look at Tim. “What can I get you then?” 

“Three large black coffees,” Tim said, which meant Peter had to look at him. Yeah, the universe had it in for him, alright. 

Tim tried to pull Mr. Todd away to one of the tables once he’d gotten them their coffees and they’d paid, but he shook him off. 

“You go, I’ll just talk to Peter for a bit,” he said, shooing Tim away with a hand-motion. Tim rolled his eyes, but Peter couldn’t help but notice the pink tinge on his ears as he walked away. 

“You called me Mr. Todd last night, and at the library,” he said, and Peter raised his eyebrows. 

“So?” 

“That’s my dad, I’m not that old. I’m nineteen.” 

“You’re nineteen?” Peter exclaimed. 

“Why are you so surprised?!” 

“You look at least thirty.” 

“What?!” Jason gasped, his jaw dropping. He could hear Tim choke, then laugh, into his coffee. Peter just shrugged. 

“Well, I’m nineteen. So just call me Jason.” 

“Fine,” Peter sighed, holding up his hands, “Jason.” 

“Great. Awesome. No offence taken, by the way.” 

“Offence meant,” Peter replied flatly. 

Jason stuck his tongue out at him, before he went to join Tim. 

“Real mature,” Peter called after him. 

Jessica seemed to wake to life, from where she had stood still against the counter behind him, watching their interaction. 

“You have to hook me up,” she said seriously. 

“Uh, no? Do you own work,” Peter replied, looking weirdly at her. 

“Why does everyone know him?” Tim complained when they left the coffee shop. 

“Everyone?” Jason quirked an eyebrow at him. 

“Yeah, you and Damian,”  he grumbled. 

“Damian knows him?” 

“Yeah, they’ve been hanging out at the library, apparently.” 

“Huh, wonder why Babs didn’t tell me that,” he mused. 

“...Why would Babs keep you informed on him?” 

“No reason,” Jason shrugged. 

Tim wasn’t convinced. Jason didn’t just take interest in people without reason. He knew he had a soft spot for the kids in Crime Alley, but this felt different. Usually he’d involve the others if something was really wrong, and why would Jason keep tabs on Peter–stalking him, according to Peter–if something wasn’t wrong? Maybe there was more to Peter than met the eye. He was definitely doing research when he got home. 

Tim was even more confused about why Jason had such an interest in him, when he’d searched him up. He seemed normal enough, except he was definitely a certified genius based on his transcript. He’d have no problem passing the exam. 

He was from Queens in New York, but he didn’t have a New York accent. Did he train it away, or had he never had one? Were his parents from somewhere else? When he looked into his family, it just became depressing. His parents died when he was six, his uncle died when he was thirteen, and his aunt, he realized with a twinge of sadness, had died just barely a few weeks ago. 

He looked him up on Instagram, scrolling through his feed (and very carefully making sure he didn’t accidentally like any of the posts). When pictures of other people featured in posts, he looked them up too. They were all dead. Jesus Christ. 

“What are you doing?” Jason’s voice came from behind him, and he jumped, quickly slamming his laptop shut. 

“Nothing.” 

“You were looking up Peter.” 

“No, I wasn’t,” he flushed. 

“Stop it. Leave him alone,” Jason said in a low voice. 

“You’re one to talk,” Tim scoffed. 

“I’m not looking into his life, I’m trying to get to know him and let him tell me that shit himself,” he returned, “The way I see it, you’ve got two choices now.” 

“And what’s that?” Tim asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms. 

“Either you try to get to know him and let him tell you all of this, instead of snooping, or you continue snooping, but then you can’t make friends with him. Up to you.” 

“What? You’ve never had problems with this kind of thing before! What’s it to you what I do?” Tim challenged, standing up from his chair and placing his hands on his hips, staring up at him with narrowed eyes. 

“Because if you continue this–and make friends with him at the same time–and he finds out about this and gets hurt? I’ll kill you.” 

Tim’s mouth dropped as Jason turned around and left him alone. 

Peter was back at the rooftop that night, but this time just sitting on the ledge instead of walking it. He kind of expected Jason to show up like yesterday–which he didn’t want– but he liked this rooftop; it had a nice enough view of the city and he could hear the sound of the streets. He could also hear the sound of gunshots and the bats, but Crime Alley seemed quiet enough. 

He noticed Jason’s heartbeat before he saw him, but when he turned around it wasn’t Jason standing there. It was Red Hood. Ah, so it was like that. It made a bit more sense why he took such an interest in Peter now; Karen had informed him about how he looked out for kids, specifically kids in Crime Alley, when she’d told him more about the bats. 

“You shouldn’t sit on the edge,” Red Hood said, his voice masked by a modifier. Peter had to admit it was a lot better than the ‘interrogation modifier’ he’d used a few years back himself. 

“Funny, people keep telling me that,” he said, turning his head back to face the city, “I’m not going to jump, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“Why are you up here, then?” 

“It’s more quiet, and I like the view.” 

“It is a nice view,” Red Hood said, sitting down next to him. 

“You gonna jump?” Peter asked him. 

“Not today,” he said, shrugging, and Peter laughed. 

“I don’t think making sure I don’t jump is the only reason you’re here, though,” he mused, still not looking at him. 

“Why not?” he asked, and Peter could sense he tensed up a little. Did he suspect Peter knew who he was? 

“I think you know, or at least suspect, that I’m a meta.” 

“...Why do you think I know that?” he asked slowly, suspicious. 

“Because you’re a bat, and I’m pretty sure you check every newcomer. And there’s a rule against meta’s in Gotham, right?” 

“Not everyone. Just the ones who make an, ah, interesting entrance.” 

“You know how I got here?” Peter asked, feigning surprise. 

“I’ve heard chatter.” 

“Right,” Peter said, “We don’t call it ‘meta’ where I’m from, by the way.” 

“Really? What do you call it?” 

“We have different names for it, depending on if you’re born with powers, acquired them later, or if you’re just an alien,” he explained, “I’m what you would be considered a Mutate, which means someone who got them in a freak accident or through human experimentation.” 

“Which one are you?” Jason asked, an edge to his voice. Worry? 

“Freak accident.” 

“Right, that’s… good,” he let out a breath. 

“Sure,” Peter shrugged, “Can I ask you something?” he asked, before Red Hood could ask about his powers. 

“Go ahead.” 

“You don’t follow the no-kill rule of Batman, do you?”

“What? Why do you ask that?” 

“Just wondering if you’d kill me,” he asked casually, finally turning to face him.  

“No,” he said firmly. 

“Oh, that’s disappointing.” 

“Stop talking like that,” he growled, “Why are you talking like that?” 

“It would just be easier. And jumping from here isn’t gonna do it.” 

“Stop. You’re what, sixteen, seventeen? You’re way too young to talk like that. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.” 

“Yeah? It doesn’t feel like that. It was… better when I was dead.” 

“You’ve died before?” he definitely tensed up now. 

“Mm, I was dead for five years. Felt like five minutes, though,” Peter said quietly, with no idea why he was talking to him about it. Maybe it was easier because he was in a mask and he could pretend he wasn’t actually real. 

“I’m sorry,” Red Hood said softly, “I know what that’s like.” 

Peter’s head snapped towards him, eyes wide. “You’ve died, too?” 

“Yeah, but I don’t really talk about it.” 

Peter nodded, understanding. 

“We used to joke about it,” he smiled sadly, “Half of all living things in the universe were disintegrated for five years, so the people who didn’t die aged–and we didn’t–but when we came back they made a law that said all people who didn’t get ‘Blipped’ were still the age they were five years ago.” 

“Wait, half of all living things in the universe?” Red Hood exclaimed. “How have I not heard of that?” 

“Probably because it happened in a different dimension,” Peter shrugged, fidgeting with the cord of his hoodie. 

“Wait, what? You’re from a different dimension?” he sounded so confused, Peter almost felt bad. “How’d you even get here?” 

“A wizard sent me here when I messed up so badly I nearly destroyed the multi-verse.” 

“You– What? I’m so confused,” Red Hood said, and he was about to say something else, too, but he seemed to notice that Peter was crying even before Peter did, so he stopped himself. 

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” Peter rasped, quickly drying his face. He’d said too much already, and he couldn’t get into that now.

“Okay, we don’t have to talk. We can just sit here.” 

Peter just nodded, and stared determinedly out over the city, and if he cried more that night, well, Jason never commented on it. 

The next two days went by slowly. He didn’t have any shifts, so he spent most of his days at the library. He hadn’t seen Jason or Red Hood since that night either, since he’d spilled his guts. Maybe he’d gone too far, shared too much. Or maybe he was just trying to figure out how to get him out of Gotham. Had he told Batman? He didn’t think so, Batman surely would have sought him out if he knew some kid from another dimension suddenly showed up, wouldn’t he? 

The hours passed with thoughts like this mixed with trying to study. Neither helped. He didn’t feel like studying anymore; he felt like he would do well enough on the exam with what he had read up on now, anymore would just be to make time go by. 

But he didn’t know what else to do with his time. He didn’t have a life here, neither as Peter Parker nor Spider-Man. He hoped he would be able to bring Spider-Man out eventually, but now wasn’t the time. He had to be patient. But he still missed it; missed swinging through the city, helping the little guy, being needed. And he missed the times he was just a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, instead of a ‘Spider-Menace’ who caused chaos and destruction everywhere he went. 

He wished he could just be Spider-Man, and never Peter Parker again. He remembered Ned telling him once when he’d suggested he’d just be himself, that nobody wanted that. He obviously hadn’t meant it, and Peter had never really given it much thought, but he did now. Peter Parker destroyed the universe (almost), so if he hadn’t been Peter Parker, he would have destroyed the universe (almost). He regretted that he’d used his real name when he created his identity, it would have been so much easier to just take a new name. But his name was all he had left of his family, and it wouldn’t feel right to part with it. 

“Are you okay?” he heard Ms. Barbara ask, snapping him out of his thoughts. He realized with a shock that he’d started crying. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah, everything’s great, sorry,” he quickly said, turning his face away while wiping his eyes roughly. 

“Are you worried about your exam after all?” she asked kindly, as she wheeled closer to him. 

“Sure, yeah, that’s it,” he lied, even though he’d told her before he didn’t get nervous about exams.

“You’ve been studying a lot, don’t you want to take a break? Hang out with friends instead?” 

“I take breaks,” he said, which only resulted in her raising her eyebrows skeptically at him. 

Okay, so, maybe he didn’t take any breaks when he was here. And he’d now been here all day, twice in a row. 

“Alright,” said sighed, “Just wanted to let you know we close in half an hour.” 

“Okay, thanks, Ms. Barbara,” he smiled at her. 

She grimaced at the way he addressed her, like she always did, but she’d at least stopped commenting on it. 

He felt nervous as he stood in front of Gotham Academy. He clutched the backpack strap over his shoulder with both of his hands as he entered the building. It looked old and fancy. Like old money. Which Peter definitely wasn’t. He wasn’t even new money. He was barely just money. He took a deep breath as he looked around for a sign to point him in the right direction. He didn’t see any, which made him slightly antsy. He really didn’t want to be late just because he couldn’t find it. He closed his eyes and listened intently for the sound of heartbeats. It took a moment, but he made out a very faint sound, so he followed it hoping it was the correct one. 

He let out a relieved breath when he came down a hall that had a paper sign saying “ENTRANCE EXAM THIS WAY” with an arrow pointing ahead. 

He opened the door and saw that he, thankfully, wasn’t the only person there. Another boy and a girl were sat waiting as well. He smiled at them, which they returned, but neither greeted each other. He sat down in the chair next to the boy, placing his backpack in his lap. 

“Hello, everyone, I’m Ms. Berry,” a short, older woman with curly black hair came in and greeted them. 

“Hello, Ms. Berry,” the three of them said. 

“Gracie Trucker?” she asked, holding up a pen to a clipboard. 

“Yes, that’s me,” the girl said. 

“Martin Fields?” 

“Me.” 

“Peter Parker, then, I assume,” she looked at him. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” he smiled. 

“Great. Follow me.” 

They did. She took them into an adjacent room, which seemed like a mix between an office and a classroom. It was large and the desks were spread out in rows across it, like a classroom, but in the corner was a bigger desk with computer screens and a lot of notebooks. There wasn’t a blackboard or a whiteboard on the wall either. 

Peter sat down by one of the desks in the middle, Gracie sat in the front and Martin sat down somewhere behind him. 

“You will be tested in several subjects, and you’ll have three hours. Once you finish a subject, raise your hand to get the next. When you’ve finished with them all and have handed the final one in, please go wait outside the room. Before you go home today, you will know if you’ve been accepted or not. ” 

Peter was surprised at that, was she actually going to grade it basically in front of them? Oh, well, better knowing sooner rather than later. 

She handed out the first subject sheet, which made him grimace as it was History. However, as he read over the questions, he felt better. None of the questions broached things he hadn’t studied, so when he started writing, he didn’t feel as nervous anymore. 

English took the longest; analysing a text wasn’t his greatest strength, and frankly, it was boring as hell. But he breezed through the others, especially Science, Maths and Physics. Social Studies wasn’t exactly hard, but like English, it was a bit boring. 

He finished quicker than the two others, which made him feel a little bad. Especially since he could hear their nervous heartbeats and their stress. He handed in the final subject and she gestured her hand to the door. 

Waiting was definitely worse than the exam itself. He’d never experienced having to wait to be graded like this before. Gracie came out first, an hour after him, and Martin half an hour after her again. None of them spoke; Gracie even looked like she was going to throw up. It was another hour before Ms. Berry came out. 

“Mr. Parker, please,” she said, holding the door open for him. 

He scrambled back into the room, heart thumping. This was it. 

She flipped through his answers as they walked to the middle of the room, before she looked up at him, actually giving him a smile. 

“You did really, really well, Parker,” 

“Thank you, Ms. Berry,” he said, feeling himself go red. 

“Full score in Science, Physics and Mathematics, and almost full score on History and Social Studies. You did well in English, too. You applied for the scholarship as well, am I correct?” 

“Uh, yes, that’s correct, Ms. Berry,” he nodded. 

“Well, I’m glad to say you’ve passed with flying colors and you’ll be granted the scholarship.” 

“Oh, wow, thank you so much!” he beamed at her, a huge weight being lifted off of his shoulders. 

“The school year starts this coming Monday, you’re to meet in the administration office at 8 AM to get your uniform and class schedule. You’ll also be given a list of clubs and extracurricular activities, which you’re very encouraged to choose from.” 

He nodded along to everything she was saying, before he suddenly remembered what he needed to ask. 

“Sorry, but is it possible to get, or apply to, a dorm as well?” he felt himself flush down his neck, embarrassed to even ask. 

“I’m sorry, the dorms are full until next year. Which is why it wasn’t an option to choose on the application,” she said, not unkindly, and with a hint of pity. 

“Gotcha, absolutely not a problem, at all. Okay. 8 AM on Monday. Perfect. Thank you, again, so much, Ms. Berry.” 

She smiled at him, before ushering him out. He grinned at Gracie and Martin, saying ‘Bye!’ to them, before he left, feeling considerably lighter. 

It wasn’t that he was excited about school, more that he was excited to have something to do. The days would pass quicker now, and he could bury himself in school work and actual work instead of his thoughts. He just had to get through senior year (again), without messing up again. 

The hairs on his arm stood suddenly, and he sat up quickly in the bed, looking around, and then he smelled it. A mix between sulfur and rotten eggs. He covered his nose, almost gagging at it. How had he not smelled it before? Had it just suddenly appeared? He moved from the bed and went to check if there was something rotting in the fridge. There wasn’t. 

“Karen, can you check the building?” 

[There seems to be a leak above us. You should get out. Now.] 

He didn’t need her to tell him twice; he grabbed his backpack, stuffed it quickly with the few items of clothing he had, before he crawled out the window. He’d barely sat his feet down on the ground when the explosion came. 

“Shit,” he said, covering his head and face with his arms as he crouched down. “Call 911, Karen.” 

[Already done, but someone else is coming too, they’re close.] 

He couldn’t even try to listen for who it was, the sound of the explosion was too loud, it was still ringing in his ears, blocking every other sound but Karen out. Which is why he didn’t notice someone coming closer, until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He whipped around, hands pressed over his ears, and stared at Red Hood. Since he was wearing a helmet, Peter couldn’t be sure if he was trying to talk to him, because he couldn’t hear anything except ringing. He suspected he did, but all Peter could do was shake his head. He tried to say ‘Can’t hear’, and he hoped the words would come out, but he couldn’t know for sure. 

Red Hood crouched down a little, clearly checking to see if he was injured. He wasn’t, and when it seemed like Red Hood had come to that conclusion himself, he dragged him away from the burning building. 

As they got further away, the ringing started to fade into more of a dull sound, and he could make out different noises. He fell to a stop, tugging away his arm from Red Hood. 

“I can walk, I’m okay,” he said, as Red Hood turned around. 

“Can you hear now?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. 

“What were you doing there? You could have gotten hurt!” he scolded, and Peter almost laughed at that. 

“I live, or lived I guess, there,” Peter said, letting a small laugh escape. 

“You live there? No one lives there. It’s abandoned.” 

“I know, it was convenient,” Peter shrugged, tilting his head slightly. “We met on the rooftop there, I figured you’d already connected the dots?” 

Red Hood didn’t say anything, which meant he hadn’t. 

“Anyway, thanks, I’m gonna go now,” Peter said, turning around. 

“Oh, no, you’re not!” Red Hood said quickly, grabbing his arm again. Peter wrung it out of his grip, narrowing his eyes. 

“Why not?” 

“Your home is gone, so where are you going to go?” he said ‘home’ in a way that made Peter think he didn’t mean it. 

“I’ll figure it out,” he said, more coolly than he’d expected. 

“You can stay with me, or go to the shelter. But the shelter’s probably gonna call CPS, so I think your better option is to come with me.” 

Peter considered his options. Twice now he’d been offered to stay with him, first as Jason and then as Red Hood. If he did go with him, he’d have to tell him that he knew who he was, or he’d have to act surprised when they got to his apartment and Peter realized it was the same as Jason’s. And he didn’t really want to pretend, it wouldn’t feel right. And CPS was a hard, definite no. So really, he only had one choice. Which Red Hood knew. 

“Fine, I’ll go with you, but only because it’s the second time you’ve asked and I feel sorry for you,” Peter said, revealing that he knew who he was. 

“I– What?” Red Hood asked, seemingly confused. Peter really wished he could see his face. 

“I’ll explain once we’re at your place, never know who’s listening out here, right?” 

Red Hood kept his face turned towards Peter the whole time they walked. 

This kid. This fucking kid. He knew who he was? He’d figured it out? In just those short moments they’d spent together? He really thought he hadn’t been obvious when he dropped down on the rooftop in costume. 

As soon as the door closed, he pulled off his helmet and turned to Peter. 

“So, how’d you know?” he asked, and the small, small doubt he’d had that he didn’t actually know vanished when Peter didn’t even look surprised. 

“So remember how I’m a mutate–meta?” Peter said. 

“Vaguley,” Jason deadpanned. 

“One of my powers is super-hearing, so I knew by your heartbeat. It’s also how I knew you when we first met, or when I met you, at least. It wasn’t just your voice, it was more the heartbeat I recognized.”  

Okay. Not what he expected, but sure. That made sense. At least he hadn’t slipped up without knowing. 

“Okay,” he said slowly, frowning. “Any other powers?” 

“Uh, a few. I have super-strength and super-healing, and I can sense dangers or ill-intentions,” he said. 

“Guess that explains why you didn’t die,” Jason said, trying very hard to stay calm. He didn’t know if his heartbeat gave him away, but he couldn’t exactly control that. 

“Yeah,” Peter said, looking away. 

As Jason looked at him, he noticed how tired he looked. He didn’t want to keep him up being questioned right now if it would make him more tired. It had been a long night already. 

“Okay, well, we can talk more about it in the morning,” he said, and Peter turned to look at him with wide eyes. Huh, he was clearly surprised; he’d probably expected an interrogation. 

“I have a guest bedroom you can stay in for as long as you need,” he pointed over his shoulder to one of the closed doors down the hall. Peter just nodded, and Jason led the way to show him. 

“It has a connecting bathroom.” 

“Oh, nice,” Peter said. 

“Do you want anything to eat?” 

“I’m good, I ate just before the building blew,” Peter said, waving his hand absent-mindedly. 

“Okay, well. I’ll leave you to it, but I’m just in there,” he said, pointing to his own door. 

“Thanks,” Peter said, giving him a small smile. Jason almost grinned, as he turned away. 

“Oh, and Peter?” he turned his head to look back at him, “Don’t leave.” 

Peter nodded, closing the door with a quiet ‘Goodnight’.