Harley's head lolled onto Peter's shoulder as they settled into one of the comfortable couches in front of the fire. Damian was turned away from both of them, not at all curious about their new guests. There was a suspicious heat to his face, however.

'Must be the fire,' he thinks sullenly. Soft growls and barks were heard in the corner as Piper, who had situated with Titus, attacked and viciously gnawed with her blunt puppy teeth at his wagging tail, the Great Dane lazily keeping her entertained. Bruce sat in an armchair that seemed to shrink with his hulking figure crouched in it. Dick and Jason boxed Peter and Harley into the couch, sitting on both sides of them, Jason to Harley's side and Dick to Peter's. Tim sat next to Damian, sipping on his hot beverage. Alfred had excused himself to get two guest rooms and a snack ready.

"You must be quite famished after that catastrophe. Don't worry one bit. I will be back. Excuse me."

"So," Dick said, throwing an arm over Peter's shoulders, "wanna tell us what that was about?" Tim sat forward in interest.

"Yeah, why did the Joker quite literally crash into Harley's apartment building?" Peter raised an eyebrow at the slightly taller male.

"How did you know?" Tim smirked smugly, and waved his phone in the air. "You hacked into the security cameras?" The second youngest Wayne shrugged.

"It's not that hard." It was Peter this time, who smirked, which threw Tim for a loop.

'Him and Ned would be great hacking buddies,' Peter thought, an ache present in his chest when he thought about his best friend. He wondered if he was doing okay in his world, and if he was missing Peter at all.

"Peter?" Tim asked, snapping Peter out of his small head space.

"Yeah," he said, looking around and realizing that everyone was staring at him, save for Harley who was still leaning against him. "Yeah, sorry, I- uh," he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with the arm Harley wasn't on, "got a little lost for a second there."

"That's okay," Dick assured gently, "what were you thinking about?" Peter, not turning towards him, answered.

"A world far away from this one." There was a far away look in his eyes, one that the Wayne siblings did not appreciate. It seemed like it made him too sad for their liking, and with one look sent over Peter's head, Jason subtly elbowed Harley awake. While it would've fooled a normal person, Peter was far from normal. He felt the movement of Harley's body and he glared at Jason, who's smile was a tad too innocent. Harley snorted herself awake (adorably, Peter should add) and her head lifted off his shoulder.

"Wha?" The dazed and groggy look in her eyes made Peter turn his glare into a little giggle. The platinum blonde's head snapped toward the sound and she squealed.

"Puppy!" Her arms lifted over his shoulders and she hugged his neck, smacking a kiss to his cheek. Peter gave her a small smile, ignoring Dick's pout.

"Hey Harls," he said softly, knowing that this was likely the start of shock that would turn into another manic episode. It wouldn't have been the first time it happened, but she seemed to get over quickly last time (as quickly as one can). Harley opened her eyes and observed her surroundings before adopting a fearful look on her face and jumping into Peter's arms.

Peter tried not to wince when it aggravated his wounds that had yet to heal (he wasn't a monster, he could still be in pain from a few cuts). Instantly, he patted her back.

"Hey, you're okay. You're safe." Harley squeezed tighter and it seemed like her happy visage was gone, and instead, replaced by remorse.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, trembling. Peter's heart broke for his best friend, not for the first time that night.

"It's not your fault," he told her, "it's your ex's." That made Peter think for a bit. A while back, it seemed like Harley knew the Wayne's and their associates (at this point in time, things had started becoming a bit obvious to Peter about Bruce Wayne's true career, though many things had stayed the same. The enemies for one, and the intention to protect for another.), which was suspicious to Peter. It led him to the Joker. Harley is a good person and wasn't likely to get involved with them, if they're mob bosses in this world. Even before he knew her personally, he also knew a bit of Harley Quinn's backstory. Everything started the day she met the Joker. Naturally and even more reasonably, that would be the case here as well. The Joker and Batman are mortal enemies, hence Harley was Bruce's enemy as well (at least before she got involved with Peter, who had gotten involved with the Wayne syndicate. It made him shiver to address them like that).

"Mr. Wayne?" Bruce's head turned to show that he had his full attention.

"Bruce, Peter," he corrected gently, "what is it?"

"How much do you know about the Joker?" A careful look was passed around, one he's seen being passed between Bucky, Natasha, Clint, and other Avengers who were too observant for their own good. He was sure that he wasn't supposed to notice but being around those kinds of people, it's impossible to not pick something up.

"Not much," a little note of hesitancy was held.

'He knows more than he's letting on,' he thought while gazing at Bruce's face, 'Joker is his nemesis. Of course he'd know everything.' But something about this seemed a bit off putting to Peter.

Batman in this world may be a part of the mob but his priority was still to rid the streets of crime (in his own backwards-ass way), so if Peter needed information, considering that at least some of the Wayne children cared for him, Bruce should be able to give it up. So why wasn't he?

'Unless,' he paused, 'there's nothing to give up.' It's an angle he should work more. In the meanwhile, he should also start gaining Bruce's trust.

"Does Commissioner Gordon know anything?"

"He'll probably know more than I do."

"Sure. I'll talk to Barbara and see if I can get his number."

"We can give it to you," Dick was quick to rush in. Peter gave him a small smile.

"Thanks Dick, but I think it'd be more appropriate to get it straight from them."

'I don't want to owe you anything,' he supplied in his own brain while bringing out his phone and shooting a text to his red-headed friend. Once he was done, he noticed that Harley had stopped trembling. Lifting her head from his neck, he saw that she was asleep.

"Actually, I also think that it's a good time for me and Harley to turn in for the night." Coincidentally, Alfred came in as he said those words, a couple of ham and egg sandwiches on a silver tray. The smell of light salted eggs and honey ham wafted towards his highly sensitive nose and his stomach rumbled loudly. He hadn't had much to eat that day. Yet another reason as to why he'll never be able to fight crime here. No food. There was an awkward pause before those around him burst into laughter. Bruce let out a small chuckle and Damian still had his head turned away. Peter blushed.

'How embarrassing.'

"We'll also take those sandwiches to-go please."

A violent jerk next to him had Peter sitting up with an urgency. Harley gasped, her breath coming out short and fast, and Peter was quick to reach for her shoulder and called out her name, as a reminder of him being there. He didn't want to startle her into more of a panic than she was already in.

"Harley?" He called, brows furrowed. "Harley? Hey. Harls. I'm here." His best friend cradled her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking with a jarring consistency that reminded him of his aunt's when his Uncle Ben had died. He squeezed her shoulder gently and gathered her into his arms. A small sob escaped her and Peter shushed his friend, a comforting hand running up and down her back. "I'm here. I'm here," he reassured her.

Small sniffles and sobs were pressed into his neck before a watery voice spoke.

"Promise?" There was a hesitant pause from him. Could he really promise?

"Yeah," he agreed finally, "I promise." The reward for the obvious answer was Harley snuggling further into his embrace. He promised her. However, actions spoke louder than words. So the question really is, would he be able to keep it?

Peter yawned and trudged downstairs, leaving Harley to sleep in a bit more. The rest of the night was spent contemplating and overthinking until his head hurt while his best friend slept on with the occasional sniffle. Needless to say, he was tired.

"Oh, you're up!" A chipper voice greeted him at the base of the stairs. He met the blue eyes of his least favorite Wayne at the moment. However, considering this was his house, he shouldn't disrespect him.

"Yup," he tried to sound as perky (failing, obviously).

"You know, if you need more rest, you should take all the time you need."

"Yeah, I would but I have to go to work. I don't have many sick days yet." Dick grinned down at him, something he was slowly getting used to.

"Don't worry about that, my dear! You have the rest of the week off!" If Peter was holding something in his hands, he would've dropped it at that moment. He took a small pause in stride to process that statement.

"What do you mean 'I have the rest of the week off?'" Dick, now walking a little distance in front of Peter, turned around and looked at him weirdly.

"I mean that you have the rest of the week off? Why? Is that weird?" The sweet smile on his face left much to be desired. Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It would take all his patience to deal with this.

"I mean, how, Dick?" An innocent tilt of the head. A bright smile that Peter was sure led people to their ultimate demise before. The feeling of his Spidey Sense coming to life. His shoulders tensed minutely, realizing that there was someone behind him.

"We took care of it for you." A deep voice said and Peter whirled around to face the head of the Wayne household.

"Mr.-" A stern look stopped him in his tracks. "Bruce," he amended with a sheepish smile, "what exactly do you mean when you say 'you took care of it for me?'" The tall man shrugged, a devilish smile on his face. He could see where his first son came to get his charismatic ways.

"We called you in sick." It was almost as if it wasn't computing for Peter.

"But I don't have any sick days saved." Bruce shrugged again.

"Well, now you do." That left Peter in dumbfounded silence. Both father and son chuckled at the look on his face (it was a cute one, Dick would assure) before the brown haired boy found his voice again, noting the faint footsteps and feeling of impending danger that approached.

"Do I want to know?"

"Best that you don't," another voice said behind him, Tim, he recognized. Peter let his eyes roll back into his head and let it loll back, stretching his neck in the meantime. A series of cracks occurred and Peter let out a sigh of relief.

"Alright, you know what? It's too early for me to want to know what happened. Maybe after I've had coffee or something." Tim, holding his own coffee, placed a hand over his heart, a little smile on his face.

"A man after my own heart." Peter peeked out of one eye and decided to tease a bit. He blew a kiss and smiled at the resulting laugh. "Walk with me?" He opened both eyes to see Tim offer an arm to him, the look of a proper gentleman (if that gentleman was as sleep deprived as possible) on his visage. With a grin, he took the arm offered and both men walked through the open door to the dining room. Behind him, he hears Damian's voice say,

"Father? Why does Grayson have such an insipid look on his face?" It took everything in him to not laugh out loud.

Peter sat in the lounge room of the Wayne's club, the entire Wayne family around him, save for Damian, Bruce and Jim, because they had other things to do. In his lap was a textbook on advanced quantum physics and the theory of space and time, his brows furrowed in concentration. As far as he knew, Dr. Strange could travel between worlds and would do so once he knew where Peter was. The balance was important to the good doctor after all. Even then, it didn't hurt to gain more knowledge about the evidence of the multiverse.

Jason and that redhead from the gym were behind him playing darts, while Dick and Tim watched with amused eyes as the redhead, Roy Harper as Peter had come to know him, beat Jason with relative ease. The second eldest Wayne scowled as the others snickered around him. Another man hung around Tim, seeming the closest to him and Steph. Another black-haired, blue eyed guy, complete with shaggy hair that hung in his eyes and a fade in the back. He wore large, round sunglasses and his ears were pierced severely. He gripped Peter's hand tightly when they shook, and he introduced himself as Connor, Kon as he insisted Peter call him. His anxiety amped itself up in his presence, and where he was more or less used to the reactions to the Wayne family, he was still cautious.

From his meager knowledge about the DC Universe, he knew Roy Harper as Arsenal, formerly Speedy, Green Arrow's sidekick, and Kon as Superboy. If Batman and his Robins kept their names here, in the Mafia-verse (as Peter so aptly calls it now), it was likely that they also had the same monikers.

At this point in time, a few days had passed since he had come to stay at Wayne Manor and got acquainted with more people from, what Peter was guessing their shadier dealings. Harley was absent today because she had some things to straighten out. She hadn't left his side for long since that day but she reluctantly did today and Peter was concerned. He knew his best friend could take care of herself but he couldn't help but worry.

It was then that he thought about what the last few days brought him. Since he hadn't really had any time off from work, Steph, Dick and the other Wayne kids took turns showing him around the Manor and around Gotham. It amazed Peter. There was so much more than he realized. They also went to the popularized shopping and club district, spending as much as they wanted. By they, Peter meant the Wayne's because he did not have enough money to buy the things sold in that particular part of the city. And he wouldn't accept any charity, he was clear about that before. Despite that, however, it seemed the Wayne's didn't listen. If he said he didn't need or want anything, they threatened to buy everything in the store. When he finally acquiesced and got something, they insisted that that couldn't be enough.

"A Wayne entering the store and not buying anything? Preposterous," Dick said, a grin on his face.

"Yeah. Besides, angel, if we don't buy anything, it's bad for business. Rumors would spread." Feral amusement lit up Jason's features while Tim smirked in the background, Steph tight to his side. Harley hung off his shoulders, relaxed and obviously having fun. Peter, in the meanwhile, was not.

"BUT WE CAN'T BUY AN ENTIRE STORE'S WORTH OF THINGS!" Damian, leaning onto the counter with a nervous looking cashier, shrugged, eyes sharp and yet, laughing. His voice held some form of enjoyment. This made him sick to his stomach. Is this what rich people did?

"It's been done before." There was a moment before Peter exploded.

"WHAT?!" Needless to say, they bought all the merchandise in the store. And then some. Peter returned to Wayne Manor owning more than he had ever had in his life. A new phone, watch, electronics, wardrobe (after hours and hours of Steph and Dick twirling him this way and that, having him try on things, catering to their whim. The manager was helpless to their wrath, and so was Peter.).

The sudden and faint sound of leather being poked reached his ears, snapping him out of his reverie and he knew that someone had nudged Kon, seeing as he was the only one wearing a leather jacket. A small moment passed before Kon cleared his throat. Peter lifted his head to meet his interested eyes.

"So Peter," he started. Peter tilted his head.

"Yes Kon?" The lilt in the question paired with large, innocent looking eyes and a sweet smile made Kon blush a bit. He cleared his throat again, aware of the jealous glares that were subtly directed towards him.

"Where are you from?"

"Queens. You?"

"Smallville, Kansas, but I was born somewhere else."

"Adopted?" Peter asked.

"Something like that. So how'd you get to know the Waynes?" Peter fingered the page of his textbook.

"Through a mutual friend, Slade Wilson. Maybe you know him?" The shocked look on Kon's face was quite funny and Peter just stopped himself from smiling.

"You know Deathstroke?" Peter shook his flattened hand.

"As a friend, not a business contractor. We met at the bar I work at." Kon filled out his lips into the shape of an 'o' and nodded.

"So then, I suppose you know what he does." Peter nodded.

"Not the full extent, but vaguely, yes." An awkward silence fell between them, even with the laughter that surrounded.

"So, what're you reading about?" Peter lifted his book for him to see the cover. "Advanced Quantum Physics? Smart guy, huh?" Peter lifted one shoulder in a half shrug.

"I mean, not really? I'm just good at this stuff." Steph snorted, teetering on the back of the couch.

"What a liar. You're really smart Pete. You should start owning it." Peter shrugged again and Kon nudged the second youngest Wayne next to him.

"Sounds like you, buddy." Tim hummed, seeming amused as he watched the interaction between Kon and Peter. The look didn't leave his face as he stood up and walked over to Peter.

"Speaking of being smart, Peter? Can you help me with this?" The chestnut haired boy quirked an eyebrow, aware of the obvious ploy that was happening and he was nervous about letting it play out.

"Sure. I'm not sure I'll be of much help, but I'll try." Steph cooed, leaning her elbow on her knee and brushing a strand of curly blonde hair out of her pretty face.

"Always our humble boy." Peter reached over and slapped her knee before she saw it coming, dislodging her arm and making her face plummet towards the ground before she righted herself. She cursed playfully at him as he laughed and walked to join Tim at the long table. A whiteboard was situated at the end of it.

About fifteen minutes later, Tim and Peter had nearly figured out everything that the second youngest Wayne needed help on, Kon and Steph joining (after she finished sulking) at Tim's side.

"So, I was thinking that this-" Peter pointed to a statistic on a spreadsheet before the sound of something metal bouncing off wood caught his attention. His ears perked up and he could hear Roy and Jason's voices yelling across the space and footsteps starting to stomp towards him. Suddenly, everything was in slow motion. His Spidey Sense activated, anticipation gearing his systems as the feeling of anxiety got bigger and bigger and bigger still. The three across from him joined in, their voices creating a cacophony that Peter let sink into the background. The slice of metal through air made him tense his shoulders and with the speed gifted from the spider bite, Peter lifted his hand and caught the object that was hurtling towards him, fingers spanning across the grip, the point of the dart a mere inch away from his temple.

Everything was no longer in slow motion and his Spidey Sense died down. Footsteps halted and a tense silence hung in the air. Peter looked at the dart that he held in his hand and up to Jason and Roy, who were staring at him in confusion. He glanced towards the three sitting across from him and saw the same look etched onto their faces. A few more moments of quiet passed before someone spoke up.

"Where did you learn how to do that?" Jason asked, jaw clenched. Peter floundered.

"I-" He shrugged helplessly, looking around in nervousness, "I don't know. I kind of just-" he mimed what happened and shrugged again, a lost look on his face.

"You kind of just caught a dart in mid-air?"

"Yes?" He knew he was being less than convincing but he didn't know how to act in this situation. Back home, everyone already knew about his powers and he didn't need to explain when he did weird shit like that.

"How?!" Roy looked incredulous. Peter was really happy that Bruce wasn't here.

"Natural talent?"

He really needed to work on his lying skills.

"Tony," Stephen gritted his teeth, "it's been three days."

"We haven't found Peter yet." The doctor sighed at his wonderfully caring, loving, and infuriatingly stubborn husband.

"You haven't slept." Tony sipped his coffee, a dead yet still alive look in his eyes.

"I'll sleep when we've found Peter." Stephen's eye twitched and he bit back another sigh. He came forward from his perch behind his husband's back and wrapped his arms around Tony's waist, smirking when he felt Tony tense.

"Peter wouldn't want you to do this to yourself. He'd want you to put your health first." Seemingly ignoring him, Tony mumbled into his coffee.

"Stupid teenagers. Making their dad worry." The rest was unintelligible by his ears and Stephen rolled his eyes.

"Wherever he is, darling, he's fine." Tony suddenly slammed his coffee mug down onto the table and violently turned towards his husband, scowl deepening when Stephen didn't even move an inch. He just raised an eyebrow at him.

"Did your Wizard Tingle tell you that? How can you be so sure, Stephen?! He could be dead for all we know!" The blue eyed man scowled right back down to his husband.

"He's not dead, Tony. I know for sure."

"Yeah? Well I don't know, so I'm not going to rest until I find my son." Tony turned back around and continued tinkering around with the dimensional-travelling device he was concocting. If he could make a time traveling machine to go and stop an evil grape with a panini bread chin from eliminating half of the universe, he should be able to do this. "In the meantime, sweetheart," the endearment was stressed and said through clenched teeth, "keep searching through the universes, dimensions, or whatever. Please. We need to find him."

Stephen's eyes softened. He really loved his husband. While the media made it seem like he was self-absorbed and didn't care about anyone but himself, it was really the opposite. He cared so much that he was willing to go to the ends of the earth for his children. He had the scars to prove it. The doctor moved forward and leaned his head heavily onto the genius' shoulder, letting his breath fan across the back of his neck.

"If I continue to search," he whispers, "will you please go to sleep?" Tony was silent for a minute before he released the tension in his form, slumping in defeat.

"Do I have a choice?" Stephen made a humming noise.

"Well, I mean, you definitely have the choice to ignore what I say, but I will do what I have to." Tony grumbled some more but Stephen knew that it was all in good fun.

"Fine. But you have to keep looking." Stephen smiled at the brunette's back as he left the lab and he called after him.

"Promise, honey!" Once he was sure Tony was out, he looked towards the ceiling. "FRIDAY."

"Yes, Dr. Stark-Strange?" A small smile came upon his face as he heard his name. What an incredible feeling, to have his name in conjunction with the man he loves.

"Lock down the lab until he gets at least a full eight hours of sleep. Sleep Protocol."

"Of course." Then, Stephen opened a portal and stepped into his room to meditate. He promised his husband and it wasn't like he wouldn't have done it anyway. Peter was like his own son. He cared for Peter and he wasn't stopping until Peter was found.

"So," Harley popped her bubble gum obnoxiously, "I heard from a little birdy that my Puppy did something badass today." Peter snorted.

"Did you? Lemme guess. Steph?" Harley smirked from her perch on the bathroom sink.

"Spot on as always, Pup. So," she tilted her chin coyly, bringing her knees up to her chest, "what happened?"

"Nothing much. I just stopped a dart from hitting me. That's all." Peter finished washing his hands and left the bathroom with Harley in tow, pouting at the lack of information.

"Aw, Puppy! You can't just leave me without all the details! Spill! Spill!" He laughed, the sound echoing down the long hallway as they walked towards the dining room.

"It really was nothing! Also, how are you so chipper?" Harley tsked, as if the last few days, if not weeks, weren't immensely hard on her.

"In my line of work, we need to get over things very quickly. This is no exception. And stop changing the subject!" The argument continued until they reached the dining room.

"Look Harley! There's nothing to tell you other than the fact that I caught a dart when I went to scratch my head."

"There has to be more than that!"

"There really isn't! I caught a dart! End of story!" Those who were already sitting at the dinner table looked up as the duo came in.

"Talking about today?" Steph asked, leaning back into the chair. "You should've been there, Harley. It was badass."

"I know!" Harley whined. "It would've been so cool!" Peter groaned as they sat down at the table. The others looked at them, not even trying to be subtle.

"There is literally nothing to it! I happened to grab it when I went to scratch my head!" Jason and Dick grinned while Tim chuckled into his water (Alfred said enough with the coffee. For today.). Damian, who wasn't at the lounge, looked a bit confused but didn't ask.

"Okay, okay, we believe you," Dick tried to placate. Peter gave him a deadpan look, knowing for a fact that it wasn't true. He also knew that they happened to latch onto this new information, considering that their background checks didn't yield anything useful. Or really anything at all, with him being from another dimension and all that jazz. Peter sighed.

"Whatever." Steph and Jason snickered while Harley huffed.

"Not whatever, Pup! I still wanna know!" Jason perked up.

"You haven't told her yet?" Harley shook her head, looking towards the man with extreme excitement.

"Tell me, tell me!" Jason started recounting the situation earlier, Harley paying attention. Damian typed away on his phone, trying to make it less obvious that he was listening quite raptly as well. By the end of it, Harley was gasping with shock (Jason, the Shakespeare nerd he is, made it so much more dramatic than it really had been).

"That was so much more than what actually happened!" Peter scowled at Jason, who smirked in return.

"Every heroic tale deserves to be told in style, angel."

"I saved myself from attaining a hole in my head from a dart. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo." Dick gasped, one hand covering his mouth and the other pointing straight at Peter.

"You swore! You shouldn't swear. Angels don't swear!" Peter's eye twitched, an annoyed expression obvious on his face (though he wasn't as annoyed as he should've been).

"I'm not an angel! I-" The doors to the kitchen opened with Alfred and Bruce carrying plates of food. They placed them on the table and sat down at their respective spots (at the head and the right side of the head).

"You what Peter?" The chestnut haired boy blushed and looked away, the feeling of slight embarrassment prevalent in him.

"Nothing." Bruce gave him a weird look while everyone else looked amused.

"If you're sure." Peter said nothing else and Bruce nodded in assent. "Alright. Let's eat."

After dinner, Harley, for reasons unknown to Peter, left, but not before meeting Barbara at the door of Wayne Manor.

"Are you sure you guys will be alright, Harls?" Harley rolled her eyes, an exasperated, but fond look on her face.

"I'm sure Pete. Now go and hang out or do something interesting. I swear, you worry as a hobby. You're gonna get boring." Peter pursed his lips, looking adorably concerned and a little insulted.

"I do interesting things!" Barbara and Harley snorted. Peter, in an act of defiant childishness, stuck his tongue out at them and closed the door in their faces, ignoring the loud laughter that reached his ears from the other side. "I am interesting!" He muttered to himself, barely surprised when an arm was thrown around him.

"Sure you are, angel." Peter shot him an irritated look.

"You know, I'm not an angel right?" Jason looked down on the boy trapped to his side.

"What makes you say that?" Peter looked on darkly, weirdly introspective.

"You attract what you are. I'm friends with a mercenary and someone who deals with some of the shadier sides of things. Not to mention, her boyfriend, a notorious gang member, is after us because I convinced her to break up with him," he said simply.

'Too simply,' Jason thinks. 'He must really believe this.'

"That's not necessarily true, Pete." Blue clashes with doe brown as Peter turned his large eyes up to meet Jason's.

"How so?"

"It's not that you attract what you are. What if you are kind but you attract people who are mean? Or you're loyal, but attract cheaters. It's not 'you attract what you are,' but 'you attract those in desperate need of what you are.' Like us."

Peter was quiet for a moment. Seeing that he wasn't going to say anything else, Jason continued.

"Besides, even if you aren't an angel, you're our angel." Jason lets Peter go from his side and uses his longer legs to stride in front of him, turning when he is to face Peter. He steps towards the shorter man, towering over him. Jason brings a hand up to Peter's face and cradles his cheek in a calloused hand. Peter stays still, frozen at the contact. "Whether you like it or not."

"Tony!" Stephen yelled, bursting through his portal and into Tony's bedroom. Tony blinks blearily before recognizing his husband and sitting up.

"Hey hon. What's wrong?"

"I figured out where Peter is!" Tony's eyes widened, now more awake than ever.

"What?! Where is he?!" Stephen shoves something into Tony's hands. The genius looks down and squints in confusion.

"Why are you giving me a comic book?" Stephen pointed straight to the comic book, which was titled, "Batman: The Mafia-Verse."

"He's in there." A pause of silence before Tony raises the book.

"Peter." His husband nods.

"Yes."

"Peter Parker."

"Yes."

"Is in a comic book?"

"Yup." Another pause of silence.

"What the actual fuck?!" Stephen nodded sagely.

"Wait until you read it." His husband looks at him weird.

It took Tony ten minutes to read to the stopping point.

"OH HELL NO!"

The bad news came in the morning. Jim Gordon, with tears streaming down his face, came knocking on Wayne Manor's door. Bruce opened it.

"Jim?!" He reacts with shock and concern for his old friend. "What's wrong?!" The police commissioner of Gotham City collapses into Bruce's arms, clutching at shoulders awkwardly but too overcome with grief to notice.

"Babs-" he gasped out, voice hoarse, "she's in the hospital." Bruce's blue eyes widened.

By then, Peter had heard the commotion from his bedroom (now separate from Harley's) and came rushing down to be greeted by the sight of the sobbing commissioner.

"Commissioner Gordon! What happened?"

"He got to her! She's in the hospital! And Harley! Oh Harley!" Peter's blood froze, and his ears pounded. In the background, he could hear multiple footsteps rushing towards them. Peter surged forward.

"Jim! Jim! What happened to Harley?!" Jim could barely get his words through, but eventually could.

"Harley. She's-" a gasp, "gone." Another gasp. "The Joker. He took her."