The room he was in started to feel too stuffy, too much. Panic started creeping into his mind and the edges of his vision started going green. He didn't want to see himself. He didn't want to see it. Peter's stomach churned. Unease, panic, frustration, it was all too much again.
Glass shattered as Peter's hand traveled straight through the mirror, cracking the concrete wall behind it. A dent was left as he pulled his hand back out.
He gazed at the now shattered mirror. Peter didn't look himself. He looked crazed. Unfocused green eyes glaring back at him through the shards of glass.
His hands clasped the edge of the sink. He screamed.
'Get out. Get OUT. GET OUT!' his body cried at him.
So he ran. Peter ran as far as he could. He ran until he found himself out of breath and leaning against a grimy wall in some dark alley. Cold rain pelted his bare skin, worsening the bruise and his lacerated hand. It hurt.
"Here comes seven years of bad luck." he breathed out. Peter rested his head against the wall. "Who am I kidding, I've always had bad luck."
He inhaled sharply, then immediately regretted it. Peter could practically taste the rotting trash and everything else in a mile radius. Turning his head while gagging, Peter caught a glimpse of himself in an oily puddle.
Peter exhaled, "And I'm shirtless. Probably look like some crazy meth head too. Eh, who cares."
He ran a hand through his hair before extending his head out, checking that the coast was clear, and carefully scaling the wall. A drenched shirt hung from an otherwise empty clothesline. He snagged it and tugged it on while continuing to walk up the wall. The spider vaulted himself over the ledge once reaching the top, but stopped short as his eyes drifted over the view of the city. It was breathtaking and his heart clenched as he realized it reminded of his own city. A city he would probably never see again
Peter leaned over the ledge, not noticing the near silent sound of footsteps behind him.
"Kid, step away from the ledge"
Peter whipped around to see a familiar black and blue clad man, though said man now had an urgent look.
"Look, I get it. But it's-" the man started but Peter quickly zoned out as he tried to identify the man. 'Where do I know him from?' Peter thought.
His mind zipped from thought to thought as he tried piecing it all together. Then suddenly he remembered a comment thread he had stumbled upon about vigilantes… and butts. Specifically, which vigilante had the biggest one, and ranking first was Gothams own, Nightwing.
'Reminds me of the whole 'America's Ass' thing,' Peter thought while mentally giggly. He's forever disappointed that he never got to experience that gem of a moment firsthand and was only told about it sometime later by Scott.
Peter was pulled from his thoughts by a buzz from his spider sense and the gentle grip of someone pulling him forward.
"You good?" asked Nightwing.
Peter awkwardly looked at the hand on his arm, "Huh?"
The man quickly put his hands up, "Sorry, you weren't exactly responding and I was worried with you so close to the ledge."
"Oh no, I completely understand," Peter said, waving his hands around. "I just wasn't expecting it is all."
"Ah."
Peter rubbed his neck embarrassed. "Yeah, kinda zoned out on you. I promise I wasn't-"
"You're hurt," Nightwing interrupted Peter. His lenses, which honestly uneased Peter, narrowed and his mouth slipped into a frown.
Peter pulled his hand back and sure enough, he was still bleeding. He was pretty sure the rain wasn't helping with his healing.
"Oh, it's nothing really. I'll be fine." he tried reassuring Nightwing. Said man did not look convinced.
"Mhm, yeah that's not going to work kid. Give me your hand and I'll patch it up for you," Nightwing stated, reaching his hand out so that Peter could give him his own.
Peter, reluctant to be receiving the help at first, conceded and handed it over. Nightwing reached into his belt and pulled some supplies out. Peter was honestly surprised at how quick and efficient the hero was at treating him, but then realized that some people could say the same about him. It just came with the business.
"So, you're not going to ask where I got it?" Peter questioned.
Nightwing looked up at him as he finished wrapping the bandage. There was a look to him, almost sad.
He replied, "Some people aren't ready to share and that's alright, just as long as I can help them."
A pang went through Peter's heart.
"Oh wait," Nightwing pulled out a sticker sporting said vigilante on it and sticking it to Peter. He beamed and gave a thumbs up, "Now I'll be with you wherever you go."
Peter couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. It was wholesome and honestly adorable, making Peter feel just a bit better.
He was about to say something when his sense went crazy. A second later, a building a few blocks away suddenly went up in flames. Peter's eyes widened. Nightwing looked at it as if it were another Tuesday.
"Ight. Well nice meeting you kid, but duty calls."
The hero saluted at him before sprinting to the ledge, launching himself off it, and grappling to the burning building. Peter wanted to follow him, to be the one helping those people. And with Peter, he was going to do just that.
He ran to the ledge that led to the alley and hopped down using the fire escapes as platforms. Peter was on the move as soon as he touched the cement, bolting towards the structure. Dodging and weaving between people and cars alike as he did so. He could hear screams now.
People were gathered around, watching as the black and blue clad hero helped evacuate the victims from the fire engulfed building. However, only Peter could hear the near silent whimper of someone still left in there. He edged around the crowd before reaching an empty side where he could safely use his abilities. The roar and crackling of the fire made it difficult to locate where the person was and the smoke hindered his sense of smell and sight. He inhaled and closed his eyes, letting his sense and instinct take control. Just barely, he could hear a heartbeat and breathing. The spider moved. His hands clung to the brick wall as he quickly crawled upwards to where the sounds guided him.
Peter reached the window where the noises were coming from. He stuck a hand to the glass and forcibly pushed it open. Smoke poured out from it. Slinking through the window, he crawled low beneath the smoke in the room. This made it quicker to see the child hidden beneath the bed. She was unconscious and clinging tightly to a superhero plushie, of which he did not know. Gently pulling her from underneath the bed, he took her up into his arms and checked for any other injuries. Seeing none, Peter began heading for the window.
His sense blared at him. Charred beams came crashing down as he barely dodged it in time. A new problem arose from this, the window was effectively blocked. Peter groaned, 'Of course.'
He took a glance at the child in his arms and decided he couldn't waste anymore time. Taking to the floor again, he began crawling through the layout of the apartment, searching for an exit. It didn't take long. An open window leading to the same alley as the child's and far safer than the rest of the options. The flames surrounding it, however, would pose a challenge. It seemed Peter would just need a running start.
Peter readied his muscles before sprinting and launching himself and the child out of the window fast enough to barely even feel the heat. They spiraled out and just as Peter was about to latch onto the wall of the adjacent building he felt someone grab him, pulling him close to their body as they swung closer to the ground. Peter could get a good look at who it was when they reached the ground and suddenly felt like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
There stood Nightwing with an unimpressed face that screamed, 'I am so giving you a lecture about this later.' The hero outstretched their hands to take the child and Peter handed her over, making sure the plushie didn't fall out of her hands. Nightwing started towards the end of the alley, but paused and turned towards Peter with narrowed eyes.
"I'll be back to talk to you so you better not run," he said. Then he walked out towards where a team of EMT's were taking care of the victims.
Peter didn't do that, he ran. He'd had his fair share of lectures, namely from Tony, and did not feel like waiting around to hear one from Nightwing. After running for a while, he finally reached a destination that felt safe, another empty alley. Even better, there was a place to sit and escape the rain. He sat there, taking time to catch his breath. It wasn't the best place he'd been in, just a cardboard tent-like structure, but it was far better than a lot of other places he'd been in. He leaned his head back, breathing and listening to the rain.
A familiar head popped out from above him. "You know I thought I told you not to run?"
Peter did something very embarrassing, he screamed, a very high-pitched scream. He clutched his chest and stared at the upsidedown Nightwing as he tried catching his breath again. The hero cackled and dropped down so he was rightside up now and on the ground.
"Sorry for the scare," he spoke, voice turning serious, "but I'm not gonna let you off that easily."
Peter went to speak, but nothing came out. Instead he ended up just staring down at his feet.
"Look, kid, what you did was brave, heroic even, but it was also extremely dangerous."
Peter didn't respond, still staring down his shoes. Nightwing sighed. He set a hand on Peter's shoulder, noting the slight flinch, but not saying anything.
"Kid-"
"Peter."
"Huh?"
"My name is Peter," Peter responded.
"Well, Peter, it's dangerous to be doing stuff like that. It's best to leave the stuff to us," he said while taking his other hand and pointing at himself.
Peter's face scrunched up, thinking of the time he'd done that and what he'd lost. He steeled himself before staring Nightwing in the eyes.
"I can't do that," he declared, venom lacing his voice.
Nightwing looked taken aback at this.
"The last time I ignored something," Peter felt tears start to fall as he recalled the story, "I lost someone… someone close to me." At this point Peter was trembling, but he wasn't going to stop. "I'm not going to let anyone else suffer like I did and I am not going to ignore it."
The bat was speechless, staring back at Peter. Peter could swear he saw a look of recognition in the hero's face. Nightwing broke the staredown with an awkward chuckle.
He spoke again, "Ki- Peter, I know how you feel about this, I've lost some people close to me too. But all I can say is to please be safe."
Peter nodded. Seeing this, he patted Peter's shoulder and stood up to go.
"You know, this was kinda nice. What do you say we talk again sometime," the bat said.
Peter looked at the hero, letting a small smile onto his face, "Yeah, that'd be nice."
The hero grinned and sent a thumbs up, then set off into the night to stop some other crime.
This left the teen to sit and think. After enough time, he decided he could go for some food, a shower, and rest. So he set off to the lab. However, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him. Peter had had problems with his instinct before, but he had a feeling this one wasn't wrong.
He made it subtle. Sharp turn here, sticking to the shadows there, trying his best to lose his stalker. Times like this made him grateful for the others helping to train him. It also made the team breakup even worse, but that was a thought for another time.
By the time he'd made it to the right alley, the prying eyes were no longer there. Peter lifted the manhole and slunk into the dank sewers, slowly letting the cover drop with a quiet thump behind him.
–
Someone had been there. It might have not been noticeable to anyone else, but Peter wasn't exactly normal. After all, Spiders can detect the slightest movement in their webs. The barely noticeable footprints, the slight scent of someone else, the way his supplies weren't quite where he left them; just like a spider, he noticed it all.
Peter rushed to make sure to triple check he still had everything, and he did, well mostly. The computer he'd been using was seemingly fried from the inside, taking with it whatever information it had. He had to get out of there, but he was also hungry, wet, and tired and knew Gotham wasn't so forgiving at night. It seemed his escape would have to be postponed until tomorrow.
First on the list was a snack, then a shower. Munching on his protein bar, Peter sat and stewed over what had happened that night. He felt guilty remembering the way he'd snapped at the poor Nightwing who was just trying to do the right thing.
'Definitely going to have to apologize for that when I see him next.' he thought. He froze. 'Wait, am I really thinking of actually meeting up with him?' Peter stopped to think further on it. 'Well, I mean it was nice to talk to him. To really talk to someone about some of my feelings… and he seemed so genuine when he spoke.'
Peter sucked at conveying his emotions instead of bottling them up, and he knew it. So it was a breath of fresh air to finally do so. He sighed, "I just hope he doesn't use that lecture voice again. It felt like I was being lectured by Cap or Tony all over again. Not as bad as Fury though, although Fury did dart Ned so he's got that going for him."
Peter had finished his protein bar by this point and began gathering clothes to change into after washing off in the bathroom. He grimaced when he looked at the broken mirror, suddenly being reminded of his healing hand and the strange marking on his back. His hand was mostly healed when he checked, just some itchy scratches by this point, and the marking… well the marking hadn't changed at all. He had noticed some weird matching scars on his wrist, but Peter felt like he'd done enough thinking for the day and just let them be.
He turned the knob and hopped into the warm shower. His body lost its rigidness as he eased into the warmth of the water. He could stand there all night long if he wanted. Then it was suddenly gone. Along with the A.C., heater, and lights. The electrifying hum of the lab was dead.
"No." Peter tried turning the shower on again and again while cursing profusely. Seeing no difference, he let out a frustrated scream. All he wanted was a nice, comfortable night after the events of the day. However, it seemed that whoever had found his little hideout felt differently, shutting down the lab completely.
He was starting to see green. Storming out of the showers, he hardly bothered to dry off before jerking the clothes on. Peter was about to leave when he yet again caught his reflection in the now shattered mirror. And yet again, he didn't look himself. Those crazed, unfocused green eyes glared at him once more through the shards of glass, glowing like that of a predator's in the dead of night
Peter's hands clenched into a fist as he shut his eyes tightly. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled. The tension in him dissolving as he repeated it. Finally feeling safe enough, he opened his eyes. They had dimmed now and were instead a slight hazel.
Peter chuckled, 'Man I might need to talk to Nightwing sooner than I thought.'
With that he walked back to his bed, happy to have his night vision when it came to situations like this. Tomorrow, he'd find somewhere to stay, but for now he would rest.
