Peter immediately recognised them, but couldn't remember their name. What he could remember was that he was one of the Bats.
"Glad I hopped in when I did. Are you guys alright?" He asked. The man tied up the two, now unconscious, thugs and set them aside.
The cashier's head popped up behind the counter and sent a thumbs up to the vigilante.
"Alright that's good. Hey," he said, turning to Peter, "I'm glad you hopped in before it got messy, but be careful next time."
With that he patted Peter on the shoulder, picked up the thugs, and walked out of the door with the chime of a bell ringing behind him.
Peter just stood there awkwardly through the whole thing, mainly trying to remember who the vigilante was. Figuring everything was fine, he went back to searching the aisles. The nice cashier thanked him for helping out during the attempted robbery and made small talk as they scanned and bagged the groceries. Once done, Peter left out into the darkening light. He figured it was nearing eight by this point, but the cloudy sky didn't help much with determining the time.
The shadows began to lengthen, seeming almost menacing in a way. Like a warning that Peter wasn't where he was supposed to be. Just the thought of it made him shiver. Well that and the cold. Peter began to wonder if it was his enhanced sensitivity or if it was just that cold in Gotham. He figured it was the latter answer when he felt a raindrop plop onto his head.
"Of course," he muttered.
Then it really started raining. Sheets of ice cold water fell from the sky, soaking Peter in the process. Now Peter could take quite a bit of wind, rain, and cold, after all it was basically in the job description of being a hero, but even then spiders can't handle cold very well. He remembered the time he'd accidentally fallen into hibernation after being caught in an awfully brutal blizzard. Thinking about it made Peter not feel like pushing his luck and so began his search for cover.
It didn't take long. His eyes caught sight of a beacon of light down the block. Getting closer, he could read 'Gotham City Public Library' chiseled into the stone of the building. He welcomed the warm air that wafted out of the doors as he pushed them open. Peter, who was utterly and truly soaked, happened to catch the eye of the woman behind the desk. The two stared at each other for a few seconds before she let out a gentle chuckle and leaned down as if to grab something.
"Ah, um… sorry about the water. I didn't-" Peter was abruptly cut off by a towel landing on him.
"Don't worry. I see plenty of people who come in here drenched to the bone." she continued on, "Started bringing in towels to keep them from tracking the water around though."
"I-" he breathed out, "Thank you."
Peter once again felt as if he'd found a little light in the darkness. He felt a smile form. After waking up and learning he wasn't in the right world, breaking down in the lab, and the rain serving to dampen his mood, he felt… comfortable. He felt as if he'd found somewhere warm, safe. It was nice.
The lady started talking again, "Say, I don't think I've seen you here before?"
"Ah, yeah I, uh… I just moved here." Peter answered back, cursing inwardly at himself as he not so gracefully tripped over his own words.
She nodded in understanding, "Well, it's nice to meet you…?"
"Peter, Peter Parker miss," he said while stretching his hand out.
She took it. "Barbara Gordon, but you can just call me Barbara."
Barbara went back to her own work as Peter began drying himself off the best he could. His clothes, however, were completely drenched and he knew he'd end up trekking back still soaked.
GROWL
Peter felt his face heat up in embarrassment. He hadn't eaten much since his breakdown session in the bathroom and his stomach was not taking too kindly to the harsh treatment. Barbara looked up unfazed before pointing to a far corner of the library.
"Hey there's a little corner back there that might still have some food and coffee left, feel free to it," Barbara said.
This got Peter's attention. He followed where she was pointing to and found what he was looking for. There it was in all of its gloriousness… a probably stale bagel and some cold coffee, but Peter was never really the picky type. Unlike last time, he took his time to eat so as to help his upset stomach, it'd suck to throw up again.
Suddenly it came to him. 'SIGNAL. That's his name'
Peter felt less guilty now that he remembered the guy's name. He remembered how awkward it was when he ran into someone who didn't know Spider-Man or mixed him up with someone else. Speaking of Spider-Man, Peter was going to need supplies if he was going to show this world Spider-Man, but supplies meant he needed money. Peter was broke. This meant he either needed to find a job or steal, and Peter stopped crimes, he didn't do them. Actually no scratch that, he does do crimes, he just doesn't exactly like the thought of stealing.
"Wow, is the uh, bagel really that good?" a voice asked.
Peter squeaked before whipping around to face Barbara. He cursed at his stupid spider sense, which had done nothing to warn him about her presence. She raised her eyebrows, glancing from the half eaten bagel and then back at him.
"Sorry, it's just you seemed pretty focused on it. Like you don't have to worry about someone taking it-"
He interrupted her with his hands flailing about him, "Ah no no. I was just thinking about some stuff."
She blinked. Peter deflated with a dramatic sigh.
"Pffft," Barbara's body shook with stifled laughter. "Oh god you remind me of Dick.," she said while wiping away a tear.
"Did you just call me a dick?" Peter pointed at her accusatorily.
"What? No, no. I-"Barbara couldn't stop the new wave of giggles. At this point Peter was sure she was going to fall out of her own wheelchair.
Finally, Barbara was able to talk again. "What I meant to say was that you reminded me of a friend who goes by the name of Dick. I was not calling you one."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
With that the two fell into an awkward silence.
"You came to tell me you're closing, didn't you?" Peter asked.
Barbara was silent for a second before deciding to just say it. "Yeah. But…" she said, stressing the word. "...don't worry too much, we open up pretty early so you can stop by again really whenever."
"Alright, I guess I'll get out of your hair now. Um, thanks for the food… and everything else. I'll be back soon." Peter said while walking around her and towards the doors.
The rain had lessened some, 'Oh thank god, that would've sucked.' Peter paused while opening the doors and turned to wave at Barbara, who waved back, before turning back around to brave the storm once again.
Peter liked Barbara and knew the library was going to be a definite place for him to hang around.
–
Peter jolted awake with sweat coating him and his spider sense, which had been blaring incessantly at him before, now lulling to a low hum. The makeshift bedding stuck to him as he clambered out of the nest he'd made. He began pacing. Blurred remnants of his dream still clung at the frayed edges of his mind. It meant something and Peter knew it, but if he could just remember it.
"Ugh!" Peter huffed. He dropped into a crouch and held his head in his hands for a moment. Red. He remembered red. Peter shuddered, his instincts to run and hide creeping into his mind. Without a second thought he scuttled into a dark corner of the ceiling. He felt as if a dark presence was there, watching, waiting. It freaked him out. Peter could feel his breathing catching in his tightening chest, his mind suddenly becoming overwhelmed and body trembling. He was slowly detaching from his reality.
'Breathe,' he reminded himself. 'In and out. What do you feel; cold, concrete, dust. What do you see…' Peter opened his eyes. Exhaling, he felt his body slowly calming down.
A sharp pain shot its way up Peter's spine, followed by a low, pulsing throb in the middle of his back. He slid to the ground and felt the pain grow. Confused, he rushed to the washroom. There, slipping his shirt off, he looked into the nearest mirror. An ugly bruise met his gaze, 'How did I not notice that before?' Peter also knew he hadn't been hit by anything that could have caused it.
His brows furrowed as his enhanced eyes latched onto a small detail in the bruise. It looked like an s with its ends curled and had a circle in the middle. However, what caught Peter's eye was the color of it. The color that had plagued his dreams.
Red.
