AUTHORS NOTE: I am so sorry, I realized I was misspelling Curt Connors name. I blame Wikipedia. Fixed it!

I'm not sure how long I watched the boy soldier sleep, all I really remember is watching his steady breathing until I fell under the spell myself.

I don't remember what I dreamt about, but I do remember a terrifying sinking feeling. The feeling of falling and not knowing where I will land, do you know that feeling? Then an unexpected feeling of floating; like in water. And even though the fear was still there, I felt… more at peace. It was an unexpected, terrifying, wonderful peace.

I woke up to moaning and screaming.

As I drifted towards consciousness I had had forgotten where I was. My cheek was touching something course but soft that smelled strongly of hospital and sweat. My back ached from my uncomfortable sleeping position, I heard it pop when I moved into a sitting position. I finally opened my eyes and remembered. Peter was watching me with a curious expression. With one eye brow higher then the other.

"Sorry if I woke you." He apologized.

I shook my head, "You're fine. How long have I been asleep?"

Peter shrugged, "I'm not sure. A couple hours maybe. Dr. Connors came by once."

I hummed and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. After stretching I asked, "When will he be back?"

"He said he'd be back soon."

We sat in slightly – awkward silence for a while. I rubbed my stubble before asking, "How are you feeling?"

Peter smiled, "To be completely truthful not great. I did just get shot yesterday." He quirked an eye - brow at me, grinning.

I felt a smile tug at my lips, "You're a bit of a smart mouth, maybe we should do something about that."

Peter's mouth closed but I swear I could see a small grin, "Sorry."

I shook my head. This kid I swear.

"Where did you come from Peter?"

He looked surprised at the sudden question but didn't hesitate to answer, "Manhattan. In New York." Then he added, "But I was raised in the Queens."

"Well, if I knew you're a New Yorker I would've punched you in the jaw by now."

The look on his face was priceless, and I couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter. When I finally wiped at the tears from my eyes I noticed the look Peter was giving me.

"I'm not amused." He pointed out.

"It was a joke. I'm from Chicago. Gotham City to be exact."

Peter's cerulean eyes widened to the size of saucers.

"Gotham City? As in theGotham City?"

"I'm pretty sure there's only one Gotham City."

He shook his head. "Wow. You must be made of steel to live there."

I shrugged, "I get by." I said cautiously.

Peter gave me a curious look before fiddling with the sheets.

"Whats on your mind?" I asked, curious myself.

"…. Just… wondering what your not saying." He mumbled.

My eye - brows raised in surprise, "How do you know I'm not telling you something?"

Peter gave me a look, "Well I definitely know now."

I mentally slapped myself.

Peter just shrugged, "Doesn't matter. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

I gazed at the young man's face and found myself distracted by his freckles, "How did you know I was keeping to myself in the first place?"

"Its sort of an… intuition. I've had it since I was a kid. I just kinda know when things are gonna happen. And when people are lying, or just not telling the whole truth."

I thought about this. There was definitely rumors of humans with abilities such as this, though there was no solid scientific proof. I kept my opinions to myself until I had a first hand experience. Guess I just got it.

"Well, that certainly is something. Is it hereditary?" I asked.

Peter looked away, "I don't know. I… never really asked. But I'm pretty sure that I'm the only one." He gave me a sheepish smile.

I nodded, "I was just curious."

Peter shook his head, "Its okay."

Peter fidgeted before asking, "So… whats it like in Gotham?"

I thought about it for a sec before answering, "Rough."

"Specifics?"

I gave him a grim smile before going into the every – day life of Gotham. There was always a robbery, a jail - break, or a murder going on. Living here was not for the faint of heart. A simple jog could turn into the most grisly man - slaughter if one is not careful. Seeing headlines such as that became an everyday thing for the citizens of Gotham. Fathers would call over his shoulder to his wife while she was making breakfast saying something similar to, "Oh look honey. That psychopath got out of jail again. Make sure to lock the extra bolt on your way to work today." The police force was one of the worst in America. Some of the police might even be conspiring with drug – dealers, so said the newspaper the day before I left. I had just graduated from college when I was asked to help with the cure for malaria. So I never really got a chance to work, well, not then.

"In my high school years I worked as a super market clerk. Until we were held at gun point that is."

"What did you do?"

"What any sane Gothamite would do. Beat him with his own gun and call the cops."

Peter's jaw went slack, "No way. That guy had you at gun point and you just took him out?"

I shrugged, "I'd lose my pay if I didn't. Doesn't matter anyway, my godfather forbade I work as a supermarket clerk ever again. Unfortunately after that incident I could never find work again."

"Why not?"

"I suspect blackmail."

"Well, it seems you two have gotten cozy."

I turned around to see Dr. Connors behind me with a tray of food in each hand.

"Morning Bruce. Thought you might be hungry." He said handing me a tray.

As I started my meal I listened to Connors reporting that Peter was in stable condition but will not be released from the medical facility anytime soon. The lab, on the other hand, was an inch from chaos and that I should leave as soon as I finish my breakfast.

I was glad that Peter was stable, but I felt a pang of disappointment when I heard that I would have to leave his side to do my research. I glanced at the soldiers and saw a mirror of what I felt on the boyish face.

"I will still need help keeping a close eye on you until you recover though. Dr. Wayne, do you think - ?"

"Of course. I'll come when I have time and if you need my help just call."

I looked back at Peter and found him giving me a melancholy smile. I gave him a small grin in return.

Once I finished I forced myself from my seat and said good - bye to Curt and Peter and left for the lab.

PETERS POV

After Dr. Wayne left I realized that the hospital life is as boring as heck. Excuse me French. Dr. Connors will be by my side most of the time to ask me questions and make sure blood pressure, nervous systems, and bullet wounds were doing fine. He brought me food and water to drink. Also orange juice. Orange juice is cool.

Dr. Connors was an alright guy. A bit of a dork like myself. He wore round spectacles that made his eyes larger and his sandy hair was always pushed to the side. Like mine used to be. You know… the more I look at him the more I realize I might've grown up exactly like him, if not for the war. I'm not really sure what to think about that.

After Dr. Connors second visit I decided to let my mind wander. I found myself thinking of this morning.

I woke up from a deep dreamless sleep when I found the scientist. He was in a sleep of his own, though I wouldn't call it dreamless. His face twitched and his brow furrowed in ways that both confused me and intrigued me. At one point he looked like he was in pain, the next he would smile. His black hair was sprayed over the foot of my bed. I couldn't help noticing that the formal, scary scientist looked very alone, and tired, and weak.

And I wanted that to stop.

I don't know if my thoughts woke him or if he just woke himself. But apologized anyway. Just to be sure.

I learned a lot about him today while we were talking. Gotham City! Can you believe that? Sounds like a cesspool of crime and violence. I would never want to go there. Not even for a free vacation!

While Dr. Wayne was telling me about Gotham, I just got the sense that he wasn't telling me everything. Which kinda hurt. But then again I guess I haven't told him much of myself. I wonder what he's not telling me, but its really not any of my business. So I'll leave it.

I outwardly sighed, and looked at my bandaged arm. Jesus Christ that hurt. Still does somewhat. My leg isn't much better.

I'm not sure when exactly I got shot. I was sitting by my camp keeping watch when I heard a rustling in the grass. At first I thought it was some kind of animal. that is until I heard the whispers. I got up and walked cautiously over the shrub. I didn't want to cause a false – alarm. The other soldiers liked picking on me and pulling pranks like that just to get me into trouble. But this wasn't one of those times. I heard the gun - fire just in time for me to cry out. Then black. I woke up here in the hospital, with Dr. Connors fretting over me like an aunt.

"Hey Pete!"

I jumped out of my thoughts when I saw Harry grinning down at me.

"Hey! Great, your not in coma - WADE GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!"

My jaw dropped, "W – WHY did you bring him here? He's going to break something!"

Harry shook his head, "He promised he wouldn't break anything, Pete. Besides what can possibly go wrong?"

I gave him one of my best, 'What do you think?' faces, just as I heard Wade coming down the rows, on a wheel chair, "Wheeing" as loud as he possibly could.

"WHEE – WHE - WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! OH HI PETE-"

Crash!

"What were you were saying, Harry?"

Harry grimaced. Wade pulled himself up from the wreckage, looked at us, back at the wreckage and shouted, "I DIDN'T DO IT!" And then ran toward us.

"Hey Pete! Sorry about that gun – shot. But then again, I don't have anything to apologize for. So..." He shrugged.

"Gee. Thanks." I shook my head. "If Jameson finds out you're here…"

"Christ, Pete. Calm down. Just because he scares the piss out of you doesn't mean he does the same to us." Harry told me.

"Literally Scares the Piss Out Of You!" Wade jeered, smirking.

I gave them both a look, "How many times have we been over this. I already had a full blatter and I didn't expect him to jump at me like that." I flushed in embarrassment. That day had not been a good one.

It was our first time meeting Corporal Jameson. The meanest man alive. I had gotten to the washrooms last so it was either, relieve myself, or, take a shower. I didn't like looking like a walking mud man, so shower it was. Biggest mistake of my life, or maybe I'm just being melodramatic. Anyway, that morning Jameson was giving us a "talking to" which was actually scaring us all into submission. I can say first hand that it worked.

I felt uncomfortable thanks to my bladder. To the others I probably looked intimidated by Jameson. Which wasn't true at all. Sure he was mean, but it was too early for judgment. That changed when he was passing by me and then was suddenly in my face, screaming at me! I might've not been scared before, but I was sure as Hell scared then. And in that moment I lost control of my bladder. Oh God that was so embarrassing. I've been labeled "Pissy Pants" ever since. That accident has also been the cause of all the pranks pulled on my as well. What would I give to have never met Jameson…

But he wasn't all - bad, he had his moments… Can't think of any right now. But he does.

Wade waved me off, "Yeah yeah. We get it Peter Pan. But seriously! Where are your battle marks?!" He grabbed my ankle, yanking my leg.

"Watch it, Wade! That's not funny!" I yelped.

Harry pushed Wade a bit from me, "Be careful, Wade. You're in hot water already and we don't want anything to happen, do we?"

My eyes got wide as I noticed a confrontation staring, "H – Hey guys! That's enough! I'm fine! Don't start a fight here, please!"

They glanced at me and stepped away from each other, though they were still tense. Harry and Wade aren't on the best of terms. After a prank Wade pulled on him a while ago. Harry has never been able to scrub all of the itching powder off of his clothes since. But after Wade saved his life once, disarming a bomb just in time for Harry to step on it. They had a grudging respect for each other ever since.

Wade says he doesn't really know why he hangs out with us, except that were "Entertainment". Wade was okay on most occasions, and always a laugh, but he does go overboard. A lot.

Harry and I knew each other since Kindergarten. Been best friends ever since. When my I was orphaned he and his father, Norman Osborn took me in.

My parents were killed in a plane crash when I was really young. My Aunt May and Uncle Ben took me in then. They were the best people, the kindest, the most hardworking, the most loving. They shouldn't have died. My Uncle was still young enough to go to the Vietnam War when it began. So that's what he did. He thought it was his duty to protect his country, and his family. How could he have known that he would break our already tiny home when he left and never came back?

After we found out Uncle Ben died we were never the same. I became more reserved, hardly ever coming out of my room. And Aunt May, she was almost the same. But she stayed strong, until she got cancer. The doctors didn't find it in time and it was already to late to do anything. She died six months later.

I was sixteen.

There are times when I think, if I just got out of my room. Stopped pushing her away, then I would've seen the signs. We could have gotten her to the doctor in time. But I know that's nothing but s silly dream now. Theres no use crying over spilled milk.

Harry, Wade, and I chatted for a bit more until Dr. Connors came back and shooed them away so I could take my medicine.

As soon as all the shots and pills were somewhere in my system I asked, "So, when is Dr. Wayne coming back?"