Danny decided that Peter's fascination with him was far preferable to Tonys. More innocent, maybe, or perhaps the fact that Peter was the same age as him. Whatever it was, it was less intense. Danny could tell all through dinner that Peter wanted to ask him questions, but he held back.

After they had finished eating the slightly burnt grilled cheese and unevenly heated tomato soup, May asked Peter to do the dishes. Once Peter was distracted she pulled Danny aside and asked if she could have a look at his chest. Danny, oddly, found that he didn't mind may seeing the scar that now ran the length of his torso. May looked at the scar briefly, though with a critical eye, and declared that it was healing well. She then asked if Danny wanted a shower, which he declined, and helped him rebandage his chest.

The thought of a shower, as much as Danny actually wanted one, made him feel like someone was watching him, just waiting for him to drop his guard. He didn't voice this to May, but she seemed to understand something of it anyway, and instead of pushing him to have a shower, which he knew he badly needed, she told him to go lay down in Peters room. Which he did gratefully.

The lower bunk was clearly Peters, but Danny didn't particularly care as he flopped down into the soft pillows and wrapped himself in the warm blankets. Danny breathed in deeply and relaxed into the bed. Down the hall he could hear the clatter of dishes in the sink, and could just barely make out the sound of Peters voice and the lighter pitch of Mays.

It was different from home, where Jazz would already be asleep, or at least in bed, by the time that he got home. Different from knowing that his parents were in the living room watching news from the static of the TV, or knowing that they were in the lab from the absence of their voices. He could hear, from the apartment next to him, the sound of a couple arguing over something. On the other side he heard a baby start to cry.

Danny rolled over and stared at the bunk above him, visible in that slightly green off-colour that everything was in the dark since the accident. Danny heard footsteps in the hall outside his room, the soft thud of feet on carpet so different to the cold clack of shoes on tile. He closed his eyes. How long had he been laying here?

"Goodnight, Peter." May's voice said.

"Night Aunt May, I love you." Peter responded. The door clicked open and Danny could tell that light flooded the room from the hall by the way it shone through his eyelids.

"Larb you too!" Danny heard Peter make a squeak at Mays words, followed by May chuckling to herself as the door closed. The room was quiet for a long moment, and Danny wondered if Peter was staring at him.

Peter sighed before Danny heard him head to his closet, followed by the sounds of fabric rustling. Danny kept his eyes closed. It was dark, and Danny knew that Peter couldn't see in the dark like he could, but that didn't mean that Danny wanted to see Peter changing into his pajamas. He'd seen enough that one time he'd accidentally walked in on Tucker changing. The memory brought a small smile to his face, before Danny remembered that he was in a different dimension, and it was entirely possible that he would never get home. He might never see his friends or family again.

"Hey Karen." Peter said, nearly causing Danny to jump out of his skin. Wait, Karen? Wasn't that the name of Spider-Mans AI? "Sorry, I got a little caught up having dinner with Aunt May and our new guest." Danny heard Peter walk over to the window and slide it open. "No, he's sleeping right now. Stole my bed."

Was Peter Sneaking out the window? Was Peter Spider-Man? No, that would be ridiculous. Karen was a fairly common name, and Peter was probably sneaking out to see her, talking to her on the phone or something. He hadn't heard Peter making a phone call, though, and the odds seemed too high. Danny opened his eyes to check, to see if Peter was Spider-Man, but by the time he'd decided to do that the window was shut and Peter was long gone. Danny resolved to stay up and see if Peter was Spider-Man when he came back.

Time dragged on, the sounds of the apartment fading out until he could only hear people on the street, some of them shouting, laughing. Sirens wailed in the distance, and the green tinted darkness weighed pretty heavily on Danny. His eyes got heavier after the first hour, so he let them close again. He shifted a few times in the bed, getting more comfortable. Danny didn't even realise that he'd fallen asleep until he heard Peter thunk against the wall and curse quietly.

Danny blinked his eyes open and hummed confusedly at the noise, sleep making his eyes stick together even as he opened them. "Oh shit! Sorry Danny, didn't mean to wake you up, I'm just, uh, going to the bathroom." Danny hummed an acknowledgement as the door opened and closed, settling in to go back to sleep, before he remembered that he was supposed to be seeing if Peter was Spider-Man.

Danny sat bolt upright in the bed, narrowly missing braining himself on the bunk above him, and looked around the room. Light was starting to bleed in through the window, indicating that It was dawn, and Danny marveled that he'd even slept that long without a nightmare, or even a memorable dream. The last time he'd had a dreamless sleep was… so far back that he couldn't really recall. After the accident, he knew, but beyond that he didn't know for sure. Certainly not since he came to this dimension.

He lay back down and waited for Peter to come back as the room got brighter and brighter. When Peter did come back, Danny noted that he looked exhausted. Dark circles under his eyes and that kind of foggy look to him that Danny remembered Jazz having whenever she pulled an all-nighter to study. Suspicious.

"I'm sorry," Peter said, when he noticed Danny looking at him. "I woke you up, didn't I?" Danny shrugged, hyper-aware of how dry his throat was when he even considered speaking. Peter shifted uncomfortably as Danny watched him. "Uhh… do you… want to get dressed? I can leave! Hey, how about I make, like, pancakes or something for breakfast? I usually just have cereal, but I'm sure we have a box of pancake mix somewhere!" Peter kept talking even as he left the room, shutting the door behind himself. "You get dressed, I'll make pancakes!"

Danny looked forward to the pancakes, even though he knew they were likely to be either burnt or undercooked. Too little sleep did not make someone a better cook, after all. Danny had many stress cooked breakfasts from Jazz as proof.


{Boxed pancake mix is blasphemy.} Wade swallowed his mouthful of perfectly cooked fluffy pancakes that had been doused in 100% canadian maple syrup. "Where did that come from?" He asked, shoving another overloaded forkful into his mouth and chewing. {I don't know, but I felt like it needed to be said.} [pancake mix is perfectly acceptable if you can't make your own.] {who the fuck can't handle fucking pancakes? There's like, maybe five ingredients!} Wade turned up the volume on the TV and sunk back into the couch, attempting to drown out the voices at least a little bit. [Maybe people who don't have the fucking ingredients! Not everyone has the money to buy a bag of flour, you know!]

The volume on the tv was maxed out. The golden girls was playing full volume, but it wasn't quite enough to drown out the voices. {a bag of flour does not cost that much more than a box of pancake mix! And you can make way more pancakes with a full bag of flour than you can with box mix!} [Maybe people don't have time to make a full batch of batter from scratch!] Wade giggled as, on screen, Dorothy verbally ripped Blanch a new one. He'd seen this episode before, but that just made it even better. Man, Bea Arthur was da bomb. {oh, like it actually takes that much time to make pancakes! Just mix the dry ingredients ahead of time then!}

Soon enough, all the pancakes that Wade had made, and there were a lot, were gone, and the voices were still arguing over the merits of boxed mix versus from scratch. The episode ended and Wade leaned his head back on the couch. {fine, I guess boxed pancakes are okay as long as you use real maple syrup on them.} "I think we're all in agreement on that." {I'm bored.} Wade sighed. [do you think we could make another attempt at the swimming pool full of blood idea?] "Weasel said no killing for a week." {I thought he said no jobs for a week?} "oh and you want to go through the effort of vetting the client, and then following up to make sure the target actually deserves it? Fuck off."

[hey, when's the last time we've seen Wolvey?] A grin slipped onto Wades face. Logan was always great for some instant entertainment. Perfect for messing with. "Far too long, I think."


Matt crouched on a roof at the edge of Queens. Queens, of course, being where Spider-Man was spotted the most often. He needed to ask someone if that kid was okay, and there was no way anyone could convince him that asking Deadpool would be easier than finding and asking Spider-Man. There also wasn't any way that he could find out if Deadpool had brought the kid to a hospital, although it seemed unlikely that Tony could have convinced Deadpool to do something that Matt couldn't convince him to do.

He supposed he could ask Tony himself, but the man was kind of egotistical, and if Matt were honest, he wanted to check in on Peter as well. He would have done it sooner, but he was a little busy with the caseload at the firm, as well as reassuring Foggy that he didn't have to freak out and worry everytime Matt put on the suit, honestly. Although, Matt secretly appreciated the concern.

So, Queens. Spider-Man. Peter. It was 3 in the morning, the time when traffic was the lightest, and good children were in their beds at least attempting to sleep. But, there Peter was, swinging around Queens, doing a lap of yet another neighborhood, heart beat loud enough that Matt didn't have to struggle to pinpoint where he was. When Spider-Man swung past his perch, Matt took off after him, following silently along the roof.

"Peter," Came the slightly robotic sound of Peter's AI, Karen. "It is time for a snack break. Also, are you sure you're allowed to stay out so late just because there's no school?"

"Of course I'm allowed to stay out. It's called the school night protocol, not the weeknight protocol!" Matt smirked at the kids reply.

Sure, Matt's not about to encourage that behaviour, but it'd be mighty hypocritical of him to not at least find it amusing. Matt followed Peter as he landed on a rooftop, and waited until the kid had the mask raised and a bite of granola bar in his mouth before speaking.

"Hello, Peter." Matt said, secure in the knowledge that he and the kid were the only ones there. Peter choked on his granola as he spun around and started coughing, sloppy fighting stance dropping immediately as he bent over and tried to get his breath back. Matt carefully kept the smirk off his face, knowing that his cowl left his chin exposed. He didn't want the kid to know just how funny he found this.

"How do you know my name?" Peter asked as soon as he got his breath back, dropping back into a fighting stance that Matt immediately identified as self taught. The kids heart was jackrabbiting in his chest, sounding almost like it was trying to break through the poor kids ribs.

"I have enhanced hearing and your AI calls you by name." He answered, and then let a frown tug at his lips. "And drop that amateur fighting stance, will you? If I was here to fight, you'd already be laid out." Peter relaxed little, and then tensed as Matts words registered.

"Amateur? I'll have you know that I have spent hours perfecting this stance, thank you very much!" he sounded so offended that Matt actually had to take a deep breath to not burst out laughing.

"Kid, you're doing very well for someone with no formal training, but I've been learning how to throw a punch since I was 5, I think I know an amateur when I see one. Besides, this isn't what I wanted to talk about." Peter finally relaxed.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"You're close to Stark, right?" Matt sat on the roof as he spoke, settling in a way that he could move quickly if he needed to, but hoping to put Peter at ease by making himself smaller than the kid. Peter nodded, and finally let his hands drop to his sides, and his heartbeat slowed to what it had been before Matt showed himself. "Do you know what happened with the kid and Deadpool?"

"Oh! Yeah, I do!" Peter sounded excited as he spoke, and Matt relaxed a little himself, not that Peter would be able to tell. "Mr. Stark got him to Stark Labs, 'cause they have a pretty well stocked med bay there, and now he's living with me! Well, he has been for the last couple of days, anyway. Danny's a weird kid." Matt tilted his head at this information.

"Why would he be living with you? Why can't he go back to his family?" he asked. Of course, Matt understood that the kid, Danny, was a mutant, and it was possible that his family were of the anti-mutant sort, but why would Tony have Danny living with Spider-Man instead of the many other options that Matt could see, least of all being Danny continuing to stay with Stark.

"Oh, that's easy." Peter said. There was something… mischievous about the kids' tone. Matt frowned. "Danny's from another dimension and Mr. Stark didn't know where else to put him." Matt barely kept his jaw from dropping. Although, he supposed he couldn't be too shocked. After all, with mutants and the amount of powers that they had, and how unreal some of those powers seemed, it wasn't too far of a stretch to say that other dimensions existed.