Where a New Yorker tells lies that are real and asks the help of a hero.


Part 1 - Chapter 2: The Birth of Peter Benjamin Parker

Volunteering at a homeless shelter ('The Martha Wayne Foundation') got him some (days old) food and a place to (barely) sleep for the first night. Also, it helped him understand that, as life in the streets was usually hard, in Gotham it was basically suicidal.

Stories about drugs and violence were exchanged by some people Peter had served that night, but the hero could hear what wasn't spoken out loud, that there were things in Gotham that prowled at night, scary nightmares made real, dangerous monsters that didn't care at all about collateral damage, or who actively hunted you like prey for the fun of it.

Curious, Peter had asked about one of the locals, a man sitting in a cot, holding an empty paper cup in his hands, eyes lost somewhere while his body lightly shook. Barney was his name, an old poor woman had told him, and he had seen the scariest, meanest and most dangerous creature of them all the previous night, the Batman.

Peter had heard about this vigilante, him and his 'disciples', but most people just whispered about them, just a bunch of rumors and hearsays, the Bats, boogeymen that scared both guilty and innocent - they would come after you from the night sky and out of the shadows. The Batman and his soldiers would hunt you, beat you and then drag you away if you broke the law... and sometimes even if you haven't at all.

Barney had been lucky, his usual place to hide from the world in a broken down warehouse had been invaded by a gang, who were themselves also trying to hide, but to no avail. The Batman came, with the demon boy who carried a sword around, his latest 'Robin'.

Whatever Barney had seen, he wouldn't talk about it, only that he would never go back to that place of his, ever again.

'Of course, a place like Gotham, what other kind of heroes would it have? Though that Signal kid did look like a nice fellow, hopefully he keeps himself as far from the other Bats as possible.'


The morning after, Peter used the free city map he got at the nearest subway station and found the first important place to visit as the first step in his plan.

That night, at the DMV's main office in Gotham City, specifically its mainframe room, a hooded Spider-Man had just finished the last touches in his brand new driver's license form, and then approved it himself. Then, after that, the hero exploited the Department's secure connection and after many trials, and some old programmer's tricks, he managed backdoor access to several government databases.

Peter had to admit, creating a past for his temporary new life in an alternate world had been... surprisingly easier than he had first expected. 'The secret of a good lie is in the key details that make it believable', Black Widow once told him. (Well, she had told Clint, who told him about it.)

So, to make 'Peter Benjamin Parker' a real boy in this world, the hero made a 'digital' paper trail as close as it should have been as he could. His birth, certificates, Social Security number. Then, added his name to a database in the New York State Department of Education ('There was still the State, not the city, weird') as homeschooled, some smaller honorable mentions in Science Fairs, some great grades in STEM, average student in English literature. Summer camps. Science camps. MySpace account. Stayed one night in the hospital for a case of stomachache when he was ten.

'Oh, almost forgot it', Peter rubbed his eyes, hour three of his invasion, and started typing away. 'Peter Parker, the orphan'. Birth Certificates. Marriage Certificates. Death certificates. Richard and Mary Parker. Benjamin and May Reilly Parker. All of these would be less solid, but he had to take the risk.

A lot of moving during his childhood, spread trail over Rochester, Poughkeepsie and Kingston. Higher chance of 'missing registries' and 'human error'.

Hour five, business hours getting close, he had to speed it up. On-line studies. GED. Digital Diploma. Chemistry. Physics. Then jumping states as an adult to live in Gotham City.

By hour seven, Peter Parker, recently unemployed graduate with an unreasonably good credit score and no money to his name, cleared all activities in the workstation and made a quick exit before any security guard could realize he was ever there, the start of a crazy plan brewing after some separate searches done while giving 'birth' to a new fake life.

And then his stomach growled, painfully contracting over the lack of dinner and breakfast.


"Can I use your printer and scanner?"

The question came suddenly, and Barbara Gordon almost cursed herself over the fact that she hadn't noticed the young man's approach.

Quickly and discreetly checking, she noticed the large clothes in his smaller frame, maybe from donation, but the quality of these was better than the usual shirts and pants people left discarded in the charity bin in the main lobby of the library.

'Caucasian, dark brown hair. Possible Ashkenazi traces, or maybe not…' He looked young, early twenties, but thin cheekbones and hands on top of the counter showed signs of malnourishment. 'Maybe younger with an older appearance. Height, five and ten, maybe eleven. Weight? Probably one-fifty, and with the clothes weighing in.'

"Good Morning", she greeted formally, and the man at least had the decency of looking sheepish. "Yeah, my bad, that was rude, good morning to you as well, Ma'am, sorry, I just had an all nighter fueled with reheated leftover coffee."

'Ma'am?' That was peculiarly formal for a Gothamite of his age - who, annoyingly, must have been just a couple years younger than her, if that much. 'Probably coming from the way he was raised? Also, fast speech pattern, maybe the coffee excuse is legit. Also, the breath.'

"I just need to print and scan something, could I?", he asked again, much calmer.

Since Barbara hadn't recognize him (and with an eidetic memory, rarely couldn't she remember something), he might have been one of the early birds that came to use the public computers ('Personal reminder, check with Yvonne.')

"It is not the Library's policy, sir", she replied, the young man appeared crestfallen. "But I can do an exception, if!", he almost looked too happy, but it was better to not give too much hope, "If it's an emergency. A real one, not just a 'late university homework' kind of emergency."

"Oh, perfect, it definitely is.", the man nodded, trying to show certainty.

"Ok, then. What would it be?"

"Just one page of a college presentation."

Red headed librarian stared up at the brown haired customer.

"It's really, really important, Ma'am, I swear."

Barbara held her sight for a few more seconds, seeing how the probable University student was squirming in discomfort, then sighed. 'It's always the early birds.' "Sure. Just one page?"

Barbara waited for the young man to send the print request from his station, then pressed the 'Allow?' window that came on her monitor.

Before giving the printed page, she gave it a look onceover and her curiosity was definitely piqued.

"Here you go, sir." The young student grabbed the paper, and started scribbling with the chained pen, thankfully staying out of the way of her booth, so as not to disturb anyone else looking for information or help.

Barbara used the moment to analyze the man, who, in effect, was completely oblivious to anything but the back of the paper, where he kept writing and drawing small circles, lines and adding a quick note here, a short formula there.

At the thirteenth minute mark, an almost filled back page was presented back to Barbara Gordon, with the now much more polite request of a "front and back pages scan, please?" from the younger man.

Mrs. Gordon accepted the paper and went back to the scanner, some of what she was seeing from the younger man's apparently nonsensical writing actually appearing very familiar.

A small file was created and shared to his station, which the man spared no time in attaching to and sending an email. Look of triumph (and restlessness, and hunger, and tiredness and almost an unbearable amount of pressure on one's shoulders), the young man came back with many 'thanks', 'thank yous' and 'you just saved my life' (things she had been, secretly, very used to hear for many years) and quickly left, then returning and picking up the forgotten paper… but still leaving the open browser at the public station that he had been using.

Barbara shook her head, directing her wheelchair to the station to clear it off, the detective side of hers still very much alive, when she confirmed her suspicions.

Returning to her office, the head librarian checked the registered name and ID of the young man, wondering, as the former hero Batgirl and now Oracle, "So, Mr. Parker, what do you want with Ted Kord?"


To be continued!


Author's notes:

First of all, THANK YOU for reading yet another chapter of my story!

Yeah, major reference to another great story in AO3, with Peter going to the DMV.

Now, Peter has an identity, a background and enough digital trail to make him above suspicions, right?

... right?

(And who might be this 'Ted Kord' character?)

Next chapter... a change of scenery!