lepoffaith

by Lazydaily

marvel peter gotham long ass chapters

4. Chapter 4

Anger doesn't even begin to cover what Peter felt at first.

Realizing that all he is to Ohnn is leverage so he can get Stark Tech? That had hit him hard, the frustration eating away at him as he got away from the street. He's a liability to Tony now, and he knows it. Knew it. He had known the whole time, practically, but to hear it outright had pissed him off.

His first thought? It was: what if it happens again? After all of this is over, what if Peter is targeted again and he doesn't stop it? And then Tony has to worry all over again? They had discussions about this very thing when Tony became his foster parent. His social worker had mentioned it so many times, and Tony had assured her that he had the best security in the world. And now, Peter's gone and made Tony a liar.

If Peter manages to get back, there's no guarantee that Tony gets to keep him.

No, Peter. Tony would never let them take you away.

But he might, if he thinks Peter is in more danger there.

He would never- he promised, remember?

That promise. Peter clutches at it, wishes he could hold the words in his hand. He thinks if he could hold a promise, he'd never be able to doubt that it's real.

When Peter had been kidnapped the first time, Tony had nearly died just so he could save Peter, and in doing so, he'd earned a trust that Peter thought he'd never be able to give anyone ever again.

Maybe it had something to do with meeting Tony before the kidnapping. Peter had, after all, stumbled into multiple Avengers that were looking for the people who were taking kids in Queens. Targeting the homeless ones most of all- Kids like Peter. They all had been investigating the deaths and disappearances of those kids that were dumped unceremoniously into rivers and unmarked graves, left to rot in morgues.

From what Peter heard, those kids either got reunited with their family in death, or had no one show up at all. It was only because of the Avengers that they got to keep their names in death and weren't labeled as Jane or John Does.

Peter, who went by Parker at the time, was a pretty well known figure in the community. He had been a valuable resource to the Avengers because Peter could tell them the names of kids who went missing that no one reported because there was no one to report. And that had led to Peter going to Stark Tower more often than not. Which meant that when Peter went missing, he had been able to call Tony first hand, and they knew his last known location.

He was found because of them. He was held for three days. He was… experimented on.

We don't want to think about it.

The point being, Tony had been the one to find him, he'd been the one to get Peter out of there. And he was there afterwards too. He was the one who promised that he'd never let anyone hurt Peter again, and that he'd make sure that Peter would stay with him. No one else.

He had put in the effort, and sure, it wasn't, like, the best way he could have handled it. Tony's not known for his emotional competence. Tony is a man of theatrics and many talents, but he's never really been graceful about that kind of stuff.

Still, however lacking in emotional grace that Tony could be, he had made a promise, and Peter fully believed he could keep it. He clung to Tony, to Pepper and Happy, and the life that Tony promised him. Even if Tony doesn't see him as a son, Peter has a family. One that takes care of him, that looks out for him.

He trusts Tony. He does. He won't listen to that voice in his head that tries to sabotage that, because it would be unfair to Tony. It would be saying that Tony is a liar, when he's proven himself over this last year that he wouldn't betray Peter. Ever.

The second thing that hit him after that fiasco of a fight was overwhelming disappointment.

He's so stupid. He shouldn't have let go of Ohnn, that's how that slippery bitch was able to get away. He should have held on, and he would have gotten that damn wrist tech without a problem. But because he did something rash- because he was angry- Ohnn got away.

Again.

See? This is why he sticks to the small time stuff, like a normal 14 year old should. Who is he helping when he gets involved in the big fights? Not himself, not Tony. Not anyone. He just- He gets in the way.

Maybe he's not cut out to be an Avenger. None of his mentors would have done something that stupid and foolish. All of their training feels wasted on him, this pathetic kid who can't get one thing right. Some student he is, forgetting everything they taught him the second the real world comes around to literally hit him in the face.

…But that's also not allowed. Peter knows Natasha would flick him on the forehead if she saw him like this (she always just somehow knows when he is "moping" as she calls it). Dr. Banner would go through a list of dumb things they've all done in their time as heroes. Tony would start singing over him if Peter started to imply anything about himself being stupid. And Pepper would encourage him to move forward despite the mistakes.

The third emotion to hit him?

A stupid, aching, horrible loneliness.

All of his friends- no, his family, are in another universe, being taunted by some asshole who has Peter trapped here. He just wishes he had at least someone else from his universe here to talk to. Something that made some damn sense, you know?

Tony would have something clever to annoy him with, Pepper would talk him through what he's feeling. Ned…

Ned just being here would be a comfort like no other. He'd probably tell Peter something silly like how "cool" he was when fighting Ohnn, and in turn, Peter could pretend he believed it. He'd get to rest his head on Ned's shoulder, listen to his heartbeat, and feel comforted by his presence. And his ramblings.

He feels like a stupid kid right now.

He is a stupid kid. He can't do anything right.

Peter sniffles, wiping away the blood on his nose with his jacket sleeve. It stains red and all he can think about it is that it sucks his one good jacket is getting blood on it. That was one of the few things he had going for him: no blood on his clothes.

He leans against the wall behind him for support, one arm hugging his knees close to his chest. He's sitting on a rooftop in the Upper East End, close to Benny's. He had snuck back in and changed back into his civilian outfit once he realized Ohnn wasn't coming back tonight, and now he finds himself sitting on a random building and nursing his wounded pride.

Peter should go back to Benny's. It's the smart thing to do. Logical, to get some sleep, at least. Maybe cry into his pillow and let off some steam. He's tired and he wants to sleep.

But also… he's always found he's able to think better when he's on a roof somewhere, looking at the city. Even if it's not home right now. There's something about the bright lights blinking up at him that reminds him how small everything actually is.

'Kid, don't get so down. You did really well.' He can hear Tony saying. 'Of course, 'well' was you getting your ass kicked, but what can you do?'

He laughs smally, tugging his sleeves down to cover his cold hands. Tony would know what to say to cheer him up. FRIDAY would play a song in the background as they worked in the lab, but would fuss at them that they're up way past Peter's bedtime (though he swears he's old enough to not have one) and make them go to bed eventually.

Tony won't be mad at him for taking so long. It's not like Ohnn was easy to track down. He just appears randomly- or, not randomly. He appears in places that Peter doesn't have a sense to, yet. Next time. He tells himself. Next time, Ohnn is going down.

He sniffles again. His pride might be getting better, but his face really hurts. Ohnn is stronger than he looks, and Peter believes he wasn't holding back. …That doesn't bode well for him when they fight again. Peter will have to use more strength next time, and try not to get so angry. But as much training as Peter has had in the last year, he still finds it hard to hold back his strength if he starts getting too into a fight.

He should write down his breathing exercises that his therapist has him trying out. Maybe then he won't lose his cool when fighting Ohnn. Peter scoffs to himself, wincing when the action hurts his face. There's that familiar burning itch as his nose locks back into place with a crunch, no longer broken, but definitely sporting a fat, purple bruise.

close, near, behind? no: left

Peter tenses up as a shadow moves to his left, his stomach sinking in fear.

hello!

But it isn't danger. He relaxes just a little when he spots a familiar vigilante stalking over to where Peter's little perch is. Literally stalking, because he knows Red Hood is supposed to be in Crime Alley. And yet here he is walking towards Peter as if they're old friends that planned to meet up on purpose.

Punk ass Bats, always checking to make sure he's alive and on his well being. They're awful awful jerks, he tells you.

(It's nice. Feels like if he ends up going missing, someone will find him again.)

"Hey, Mister Red Hood." Peter mumbles, looking back out at the city. Dread fills him and he freezes, biting his bottom lip as a wave of anxiety washes over him.

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

He knows just how bad his face looks right now, and he knows what conversation is about to happen. Nightwing had freaked over the last bruises, and snitched on him to all the other Bats because he's a snitch bitch. He had only managed to get out of that because of timing and avoiding answering.

He just wishes that Red Hood had caught him at a better time. If he had come later, the bruises wouldn't be so bad. They'd look almost healed… (maybe. Peter isn't getting enough to eat lately even with Benny's meals, so the healing might take longer.)

And yeah, it honestly looks worse to him than the other time. His nose got the worst of it, and at least it isn't broken anymore, but his right eye is sort of swollen shut and his lip is busted.

This… isn't gonna help his case in the slightest.

Peter ducks his head away as if that will help him at all. It's an attempted to at least stall what he knows is coming long enough that he can come up with something to say as an excuse. No, my Dad doesn't hit me, I just live in Gotham at the moment and I got beat up. That sounds good. Peter is so smart.

Red Hood waves at him, offering a tired, "Hey", but stops mid step when he gets close enough to see Peter in the light. His boot hovers in the air and then gently lowers, and his fingers twitch into a fist.

Yep. Exactly what Peter expected.

Peter doesn't look at him.

"Who did that to you?" Red Hood's voice is calm- too calm. Peter's senses hiss in his ear angry, he's angry. But Peter doesn't think he's angry at him.

Peter shrugs as Red Hood sits down next to him. The man is unnaturally warm, so his suit must have a heating system in place underneath. Peter resists the urge to get closer to the heat- his thermoregulation issue had his teeth chattering, even if the big jacket he wears provides some comfort.

"Some older kids." Peter lies. "Didn't know 'em. They just wanted money."

"Where?"

"A few blocks over." Peter lies again, and he can feel Aunt May's disappointment in him. "They're gone by now."

"It looks pretty bad."

"I've had worse." He says, before he can think about how it might sound.

Red Hood is silent, and Peter finally chances a glance at him. His fist is clenching and unclenching, a bloody battle waging in his mind. His heartbeat picks up, and Peter hears him taking a few deep breaths, recognizing the four-three-four pattern from his own therapist's breathing exercises.

"Is your Dad home?"

Peter scowls even though it hurts his face, his voice tinged in defense. "Why?"

Red Hood doesn't care that Peter got angry. He cuts through like a bull, forcing Peter to listen. "Because you're hurt, and you aren't at home telling him."

Ugh, he hates to say it, but the Maybe Bat Maybe Rogue has got him on that one. He can't say anything to that. Obviously. Peter wipes his nose again, pointedly turning away from him to stare at the city lights. "He'll be back soon."

"Liar."

Peter stiffens, indignant fire spiking in him. "Am not."

"Are too."

He huffs in frustration, looking away from Red Hood again, scrambling to collect his thoughts much the way someone would struggle to catch a bubble. Peter doesn't have to say anything else- no rebuttal, no excuses, nothing to defend Tony. Because as much as Peter wants to defend him, he can't do that fully without admitting why Tony isn't here. He just wants to scream and throw everything out there in a Hail Mary.

But he holds it back. Be smart, Peter.

He doesn't know enough about the Bats. And besides, this is his fight. It's the Avengers, not these heroes. What if they handle their cases somehow in a manner that Peter doesn't want to get involved in?

Being ridiculous.

A rough hand falls on his head, ruffling his hair. Peter attempts to get away, but the hand falls still and… Peter does too. Red Hood's hand is warm, and suddenly the fight is lost on him, at least for that battle. Red Hood lets his hand stay there, as if waiting for Peter to throw his hand off.

Peter doesn't. He can't find it in him to let go of the contact- any human contact, because it's been nearly two weeks, and he misses Tony, and his mentors, and Ned, so badly right now. And his chest aches a little bit of having someone this close, someone to tease him, even if they aren't real friends.

That must be a green light in Red Hood's eyes, because he speaks again when he knows Peter has relaxed just a little. "What's your name?"

Peter blinks at Red Hood, the question staring at him in the face. What is he talking about? Don't they-

OH. No, they don't.

He never told any of the vigilantes his name. In all the meetings he's had with them up until this point, he hadn't introduced himself properly. Isn't it silly? He had an emotional freak-out before he told them his name.

Unless they do already know it, and are just keeping that a secret from him.

The thing is though, Peter doesn't want to fully introduce himself, which is surely what Red Hood and the Bats are looking for. If they hadn't already searched Peter up, they'd want to know. But Peter doesn't know if "Peter Benjamin John Andrea Parker" lives in this universe or not, and he's worried about giving out "Peter Parker" and finding out if he's googleable or not.

So, for the just in case, Peter ain't giving them anything but his first name.

"Peter." He supplies, looking curiously up at Red Hood as if that would tell him if Red Hood did know it and was just pretending not to. It would be suspicious of them if they said Peter's name and he had realized they shouldn't know it…

Damn, they have Peter read pretty well. Bastards. All of them.

"You hungry, Pete?"

Peter narrows his eyes in suspicion- and at the nickname calling. He can't tell what emotion Red Hood has on his face because of the helmet. The man waits for a reply patiently, seemingly understanding what Peter would be hesitant about. Going to get food with a stranger that has at least five guns on him (and two hidden somewhere, Peter can hear the metal in his jacket and boot) and is probably a crime lord doesn't sound like something a kid with a reasonable sense of self awareness and self preservation instincts should have.

But Peter can't sense danger from him, at least, not any danger towards Peter. There's a buzzing underneath all of the hellos! and safes! that his spider—sense supplies to him. It feels… green.

Green?

Hm. Peter doesn't know what to do with that. Sometimes he feels colors from people. Like Miss Wanda has always been red, a scarlet that spreads. And the Hulk is green too, but Red Hood's green feels separate from him.

So, there's the buzzing that says this man could kill and has killed. But there's nada, zilch, nothing of an immediate danger danger towards Peter. All he can sense is his own hungry stomach, and his backpack is sitting next to him with money for food.

His face needs food to get fixed, he reasons. He's not getting too close to a strange vigilante. He's just getting food, for his health.

"I know a place nearby." Red Hood takes his non-protest as an answer and stands up, stretching his back. "Let's get somethin' to eat. I'm starvin'."

He takes the risk grabbing Red Hood's outstretched hand and letting himself get tugged up onto his feet. He snatches his bag close to his chest then slings it over one shoulder. Red Hood keeps one arm around Peter's shoulders to keep him from going over the side- a gesture that is still nice even though Peter has excellent balance.

"You're not gonna kidnap me, right?"

"No."

"You're sure?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm pretty sure that I'm not gonna kidnap ya."

"Cool."

Red Hood pauses and says, "'Cool'? That was too easy. Ya know people can just say they won't kidnap ya? Right? You know that, right?"

Peter's heart drops and he gawks at Red Hood. "You're gonna kidnap me!? But you just said-"

"No, no I'm not! I'm just saying that ya can't reply with 'Cool' if anyone other than me says that!" Red Hood slaps his forehead.

"Like Nightwing?"

"No, like a stranger!"

"You… are a stranger." Peter is growing more confused by the second.

"Ya know me, Peter."

"No, I don't actually, 'cause otherwise I'd like, know your name. Unless you're always Red Hood and don't exist in the daytime. Like a vampire."

"Okay, first of all." Red Hood goes to cover his mouth, but settles on pointing at Peter. "If ya mean that vampires stop existing when the sun comes out, they don't. They just turn to ash if they see the sun, and they sleep during the day."

"But what about Twilight? Edward sparkles."

"Second of all," Red Hood ignores him. "Ya know that I'm a good guy, and I won't kidnap ya. Ya don't need my name to know that."

"No, I don't." What Peter knows is that his spider-sense likes them.

"Yes you do. I'm a good guy, and I won't. I'm the least likely of us to kidnap ya."

"Least likely?" Peter is starting to wonder if his spider-sense got all mucked up during the multidimensional travel. "Who's the most?"

"Batman. He's done it before, and he won't stop."

"Did he kidnap you?"

"Yeah, it's a real problem." Red Hood's reply leaves a low hum from his spider-sense, and the topic sounds like dangerous territory.

"They have therapy for that." Peter says. "Also, he didn't kidnap me when he drove me in the Batmobile. Had plenty of opportunity then, if it's really that big of a problem."

"He did what?"

"I got to sit in the Batmobile." Peter blabs, unknowing of why Red Hood sounds so affronted. "I wanted to press the buttons, but I figured I pressed enough of his to know I shouldn't test my luck. I really wanted to, though."

"He let you sit in the front seat?"

"Why would I sit in the back?" Peter crosses his arms. "It was just us. I would have felt like I was taking the world's strangest Uber back to Benny's."

"Ugh, just, whatever. My point is: unless it's me, don't just say 'cool' when someone says they won't kidnap you."

"Cool."

Red Hood stares at Peter.

"I mean… alright?"

"Let's just fuckin' go."

They get down the same way that they got up a building last time they talked. Red Hood is gentle with Peter but keeps a strong hand, as if he's scared the wind would blow Peter away. And when Peter tried to pay for his own food, Red Hood actually slapped his hand down and made him put his money clip in his backpack.

The place that Red Hood offered to eat at ended up being a taco stand that, if Peter's nose was correct, had more guns than it did spices. But Peter takes that as a symbol of a long-standing business in Gotham, because he's seen no other taco stands, and everyone here ignores each other.

"It's like a watering hole." Peter mutters to himself as he sits down at a bench.

"It's like a what?"

"Dinosaurs wouldn't kill each other at watering holes. Essential resource became a safe haven." He babbles to the vigilante that sits across from him, who's dumping their food into the middle of the picnic bench. "Tacos are essential resources, I guess."

"Yeah, yeah, ok. Eat your food, Squirt." Peter thinks Red Hood might have rolled his eyes under that helmet.

Peter takes one last look at where their picnic table is positioned. It's just outside of the light, farther back from the other people here who are minding their business. In fact, Peter realizes that because of the bushes on the other side, he's the only one who'd even know Red Hood was sitting here.

"Aren't you gonna eat too?"

Red Hood stares at him, so Peter stares back.

"You said you were hungry." He reminds him. "And these are a lot of tacos."

Indeed, Red Hood had bought them more than what Peter should have been able to eat alone, if he were fully human. If he didn't know any better, he'd assume that Red Hood knew how much he needs to eat. The amount of tacos on the table would be enough for Peter to be satisfied for two meals. But certainly, Peter isn't going to eat that much. Not only would it blow his cover, he'd also look a little desperate and weird.

And yet, Red Hood doesn't move to grab anything on the table.

Peter huffs, and he turns around on the picnic bench to face away from him. "I'll even close my eyes, cause I'm so nice. See? Well, you can't see, because my back is turned. But my eyes are closed. Scout's honor."

After a few seconds, Peter grins when he hears a chuckle from under the mask and then the click as if something was removed. Without the voice modulator, Red Hood's voice doesn't sound that different, just less muffled.

"All right. I trust you."

Trust him, huh? Peter doesn't know why. It's not like he did anything to deserve that kind of trust. All he's done is lose his temper and lie to them.

"Hand me a taco, please." Peter holds out his hand behind him, and Red Hood sets one in his palm.

Peter unfolds the taco, wondering what to even talk about with this guy. Is this a talking situation? Or are they just gonna sit here in silence and bond somehow? He can see Red Hood doing that. It seems like something someone this cool would do.

'Cause even if Peter hadn't admitted it at first, he does think Red Hood is pretty cool. Now that he isn't full of adrenaline or having an emotional freak-out or whatever, he can say that Red Hood is objectively, a cool dude. He wears a leather jacket, of course he's cool.

What do people even talk about when they're cool?

"You're from New York, right?" Red Hood breaks the silence just as Peter bites into his food. Peter nods, and Red Hood grunts. "Which part?"

"Queens."

"You like it there?"

"Very much." Peter almost forgot to reply because the taco is that damn good. He can see why this place is watering-hole quality. "My parents moved there before I was born. I'm assuming you're from Gotham?"

"Crime Alley." The man hums in thought. "So why'd you move? If you guys liked it there so much."

Peter shrugs, wondering how exactly to say this. "We didn't have a lot of choice."

And, thus, an idea strikes him with all the grace of a missile launch landing on his front doorstep.

He told Red Hood that if he was really in trouble, he'd tell someone. But Peter can't do that without revealing himself, not with his 'situation'. He'd have to tell them about the alternate universe, about being a 'meta', all of it, and risk getting rejected.

Or maybe he can.

Because if he's being honest, and it isn't hard to be so when it's his inner monologue, Peter would really, really like not being kidnapped. For a third time. Or, at least, he'd like having someone be aware that it could happen. He'll have to be ten times more careful not to let them figure out that he's Spider-Man and all the other stuff, but this is a step in the right direction.

"…I think we're in trouble." Peter says slowly, and he feels eyes glued on the back of his head almost instantly. "I know I told you I'd tell someone if I was. So I'm telling you, cause I keep promises. And I don't know if Dad can handle this one."

Peter winces at the last part. He does think Tony could figure it out. But also, it's kind of hard to do that when there's a potential time limit hanging over their heads, and it wouldn't hurt to have a few extra eyes on this. If the Bats pass this little test, then maybe Peter can trust them.

"I don't get to know a lot about it, but some guy followed us here, to Gotham. Jonathan Ohnn. I don't know much else about him, other than he's mad at my dad."

"Your dad tell you this?"

"No." Peter shakes his head. "Jonathan did."

Red Hood is silent. He gets serious enough that Peter hears him set his taco down. "This guy spoke to you? When? Where? What did he say?"

He's not telling the full truth, but… It's enough, right? To get these vigilantes to keep an eye out for Ohnn, to help Peter catch him without Peter having to get too close to them. Natasha would be proud. The lie is at least rooted in truths, that makes him feel a smidge better.

"I met him in the street. He told me that my dad isn't giving him what he wants for some project of his."

"What kind of project?"

"He wants money and parts for some 'jump' thing. A teleporter. He thinks if he tries to get the stuff legally, someone will steal his work. So he's threatening my dad to get what he wants. A real paranoid kind of guy."

Peter eats his taco, looking up at the buildings above and wondering what Red Hood is thinking. It's a weird situation, a vigilante getting information about a potential bad guy while eating at a taco stand with a kid. Or maybe not. Interrogating people is sort of part of the job.

At least this part is easier than talking about himself.

"Threatening your dad, or you?"

"…Both." Peter admits, looking at his food. "Pretty much implied that he wants to keep Tony and me separate, so Tony'll be more inclined to do what he says."

"Does he know where you live?"

"I don't think he does." Peter admits, truthfully this time. "If he did, wouldn't it make a bigger statement to show up there?"

mad tense worry

Red Hood really is worried about him, then. So the vigilantes are trustworthy in this way- with him as Peter, but not Spider-Man. Of course they'd be- they help people all the time. He shouldn't have doubted that.

…His trust issues really do get in the way, like, all the time. Peter holds his hand out for another taco, and Red Hood gives him one without a word. Maybe Red Hood thinks he's buying Peter's trust with food, but… really, it's because Peter can tell he's a good guy.

Strangers can scare Peter. They don't scare Spider-Man, because he's a hero, and no one can hurt Spider-Man. But strangers have always hurt Peter, if he trusts too easily. If he tries to get close, if they know what makes him feel weak.

This stranger isn't so bad.

"And your dad is out of town?"

"Yeah." Peter says, and he apologizes to Tony that it sounds so bad. "But not because he wants to be."

Red Hood is quiet again. Peter wishes he'd at least have the decency to think out loud. He can't see his face, can't read his body language, can't even deduce what he's feeling when he speaks. Peter is forced to rely on listening to an ever steady heartbeat- an incredibly healthy sounding heart- and the calming breaths he takes. Forced to rely on his spider-sense, which doesn't tell him more than what his other senses can tell him.

"You're a good kid." Red Hood finally speaks, and it isn't what Peter was expecting. He tilts his head in confusion. Red Hood must understand what that means, because he sighs. "You should try to stay inside, if you can. We'll bring you food and stuff like that-"

"I have what I need. I'm just telling you that you have an angry meta guy roaming around."

"Meta? You didn't mention that."

"He said he was." Peter winces a little, glad that Red Hood can't see his face. "He has yellow eyes and he blinks his eyelids one at a time. Also, he was mad at me, so I didn't ask more about that. That's all I've got."

"Blinks with…" Red Hood huffs. "We'll look for him. We'll find him, and we won't let him hurt you or your dad. Maybe you'll get to move back to Queens when he gets thrown in jail."

Peter grins into his taco, but Red Hood can't see it.

"I'd like that."

Jason wasn't hungry after that conversation. The tacos end up getting mostly eaten by the Shortstack in front of him, who's like a bottomless pit for food. His mind races with thoughts, trying to keep up and keep cool as he settles down in a chair. Tim is typing away with the information Jason gave him.

Jonathan Ohnn is an unfamiliar name to him. He doesn't recall any rogues or tagged potentials from Gotham with that name, but if he traveled from New York, then it makes sense. It pisses him off to even think about what this guy could be like, if he's going after a kid in order to get what he wants.

Peter was lying about those bruises, he knew damn well. Ohnn had obviously given them to him, maybe as a warning to Tony that he could do worse. But Peter clearly isn't in contact with Tony right now, so Peter's getting hurt for no damn reason.

(Not that there's any reason at all to hurt a kid. He wants to kill this guy either way.)

What kind of idiot leaves a kid alone in Gotham, on purpose? What even was the plan? Was he going to drop Peter off, hope he doesn't die, and blends in with the crowd? That's such a shitty idea that Jason can't even fathom someone using it seriously. Peter is 14, he can't be left alone in a regular city, let alone Gotham of all places. And there's no way Tony is his foster dad. CPS is shitty here, but not shitty enough that Peter wouldn't be pulled away for bruises like that. So Tony is a guardian, but in what way?

When Jason gets his hands on both this Ohnn asshole and Tony…

Deep breaths. Don't lose your cool.

He hates that he understands what Peter is feeling. It brings up ugly, ugly memories, and his body feels cold. He rubs at his temples, attempting to push out the thoughts. Being a kid in foster-care, ending up homeless, fighting to survive on his own, a mother that…

Clinging to someone who isn't there for you.

He closes his eyes, but it makes it all feel ten times worse. As if he can see feet walking towards him in a warehouse-

"Jay?"

He opens his eyes, seeing the others in his peripheral vision. Tim has looked up from his computer, watching Jason. Guilt eats at him.

"'M fine." He mutters, trying to soothe his rising anger. Sometimes he can't tell what the emotion really is, he just calls it anger. "'M just tired."

Tim hums as a reply, but he doesn't have the words to say. None of them ever really do. It makes it worse if they try to pick it apart. Steph, who really should still be sitting in bed while she recovers, gives him a thoughtful and worried smile.

Jason knows he's only better, or… more stable, because of his family. The anger is easier to manage nowadays, but still. Sometimes, that green-eyed fury tries to take hold of him, tries to ruin the relationships he built up.

Peter's outbursts of anger felt normal to handle, like he was watching his own self from the outside. The poor kid is riddled with brewing anxiety, guilt, anger, all sorts of emotions that make it hard to breathe. Even more reasons that he shouldn't be alone.

He's so- so- small. Had Jason ever been that small? Like, really? He knows that at one point in his life, he had looked up at people to see them. But he can't remember being that small. He's 14, yeah, and sure, he's short. Damian is 14 and short, but Jason meant, like…

The kid looks like he blends right into the background. He erases his presence so easily, trying so hard not to be seen. It reminds Jason of that ill feeling in his gut when he saw Damian in the Robin suit, as young as he is, that screams: They shouldn't be in this position.

It's wrong, and it pisses Jason off. He's sick and tired of kids being involved in a fight that isn't theirs.

He hadn't noticed Dick had entered the room until he sat down next to Jason. Dick leans back in his chair, fresh out of the shower with clean clothes on and a towel over his hair. Jason squints at him, something nagging at the back of his mind that he finds difficulty naming.

Dick raises a brow at him. "What're you looking at me like that for?"

"Your face is pissing me off."

Dick ignores his comment, likely because it had no bite behind it. Jason can't shake the feeling that he's missing something, that it's staring him right in the face and waiting for him to notice.

"Whoa, wait." Tim remarks, backing up from one computer monitor to see the other. "I think I found something on this Ohnn guy… though, the name is for 'Beckham Graham."

"Lemme see!" Steph scoots her chair closer, pushing Tim to the side. Ever since Peter showed up in that alley, she's become more interested in him like the rest of them.

"Jay, tell me if this sounds like what Peter was talking about. A few days ago, a man entered Wayne Industries building in the Diamond District, claiming that he had an appointment with one of Bruce's employees. When informed that he missed this appointment by two days, he started throwing a fit and threatened the receptionist. When asked to leave the premises, he jumped over a chair and scratched one of the security guards in the face."

"Oh, yikes, this guy sounds bonkers!" Steph is reading faster than Tim could speak, and she cuts him off to continue. "He was forced off the premises and he left before police got involved. The security guard who was scratched went to the hospital a few minutes later because he started feeling extremely ill. Doctors determined that the cause was from the venom of a snake, but his only injuries were the scratches on his face. This worsened over time, and the guard died as a result, in only two hours since the scratch."

"Sounds like this guy is a snake meta," Dick frowns, stating the obvious. Jason knows it's how he works through his thoughts, but it gets a little annoying sometimes. Or maybe Jason is just annoyed thinking about this bastard. "How come this is the only way we heard about this? It happened at WI, we should have known the second it happened."

"It was in Bruce's folders, but it was a few days ago, before we knew about Ohnn. It was deemed low-urgency because there wasn't anyone to spare and no one else came up dead with the same injuries." Tim explains, drawing up pictures from the file.

The scratches on the guard's face are black, rotting around the edges. His lips had turned blue, his eyes bloodshot. A sheen of sweat covers his pale skin, the bags under his eyes a dark color like death. His temperature was 103 at it's highest, and he died moments after the picture was taken.

Peter wasn't scratched, was he? He didn't look it, when he was talking to Jason. He didn't say there was anything else, but would he have told Jason? Should they check on him again? What if in this time, Peter died, because they didn't know about this venom? He doubts that Peter would go to a clinic or to a hospital at all.

Or not. This guard died two hours after meeting with Ohnn and getting scratched, and they had been out long enough that Jason would have started seeing signs.

"Sounds like the bastard that Peter described." Jason seethes, eye twitching as he imagines punching the man's face in. He has to distract himself from the idea, or he's going to work himself up into a spiral. Instead, Jason latches onto that nagging feeling in the back of his mind and picks up his phone, opening the photo gallery.

"Any security footage you can pull up?" Dick leans over Tim's chair.

"Yeah, let me see."

Jason finds the folder he's looking for, Peter's face in his mind. The tan skin, the shape of his eyes, his nose and the dimples on his cheeks when he manages a smile… even his anger reminded Jason of someone. Defensive anger, always for someone else, but hiding the rest of their emotions. Well, not hiding. They wear it on their sleeve, but they think that not talking about it will keep it hidden.

"Here he is." Steph points out. She and Dick both are in Tim's space, eager to see the screen. "He really is throwing a fit! Look at him throw that briefcase!"

"Where's he going? Can we follow him?" Dick bites at his nail, eyes glued to the screen. There's a shining rage in his eyes that Jason huffs at under his breath. Maybe Dick will kill the guy before Jason can.

He finds the picture he's looking for, zooming in on one face in particular. Not that he would ever let his family know, but he keeps pictures of them in his phone. As many as he can, as if scared he'll forget their faces one day. He's not, but it's like he is. (Clinging on to the real memories they had, so the Green will leave him alone.)

Dick is around 16 years old in this picture, smiling at the camera with a busted nose from some fight a millions years ago that Jason can't remember the story for.

…It isn't exact, but the resemblance is uncanny very close. Peter looks a lot a bit like Dick had around that age.

Jason tells himself that it's because the kid just happens to look like Dick, that they share similar stories. That's why he draws the conclusion, that's why Jason feels so strongly about this one random kid. He'd feel the same for any other kid with the same story. The coincidence is just that: a coincidence.

He puts his phone back in his pocket, not sure if he convinced himself of anything, and tries to pay attention to what the others are saying.

"Wait a minute, did you see that?"

"See what?" Steph asks. Tim pauses the recording to point into the crowd of people on the sidewalk.

Jonathan Ohnn, they assume, is at the foreground, scratching at his own cheek, his teeth gritted with rage and his unnaturally yellow eyes bugging out of his face. Jason commits the face to memory, convinced that he'll have a hard time holding back when he finally stands in front of this bastard.

However, Tim is pointing to the background.

A background that Peter is in.

"Hold the phone, is he following this lunatic? By himself?" Dick worries his lip, eyes widening as Tim plays the video. Sure enough, Peter is walking the same path as Ohnn, sticking far enough back so as not to be spotted. "Why would he do that?"

"Maybe he recognized him." Tim says slowly, but he's disappointed at digital Peter for doing something so reckless. "He said his dad wasn't telling him anything. Maybe he got fed up with that, and didn't know that Ohnn was dangerous or not yet."

It still doesn't sit right with them… But they have no room to talk.

"Hold on… this is where…" Tim lowers his voice, brows furrowing. Only Steph seems to understand what he means.

"Oh my god, it is!"

"Where, Blondie?" Jason grunts, getting up to look at the screen better.

"Look," She points at Peter. He's stopped in front of an alley, watching Ohnn leave with one foot in the air. He's conflicted, visibly trying to keep going but something is holding him back. He stays, shakes his head, and chooses to jog into the alley instead. "He really did that just for a stranger?"

"Did what? Where is he going?"

"This is where Steph ended up hiding after Two-Face and her fought." Tim answers, and Steph distantly traces the wound in her side that is still healing.

"Peter gave up following Ohnn and getting answers just to help me." Steph groans. She attempts to flop dramatically into her chair again, but she goes slow as to not aggravate her wound and it ruins any effect. She spins for good measure, as if to make up for it. "Why does he have to be such a good kid? Now I really feel like I need to thank him."

Speed and stealth are Peter's strong suits.

Not that he isn't strong- he can lift up to ten tons and if he isn't careful, he could punch someone's jaw clean off their face.

But Peter doesn't rely on his strength. In fact, he is constantly holding back on it. It's actually more effort to do this, and can strain him in battle. But he doesn't battle as often as the people of New York might think he does. Spider-Man saving a cat from a tree doesn't go viral, his fights with the Armadillo or Leap Frog or the occasional stopping of a car accident or a train do.

Peter prefers speed and stealth when he isn't swinging into the scene. Stalking into the shadows and observing from above, like a real spider lying in wait. He's gotten even better at it since Natasha started teaching him how to erase his presence in a room. And with his abilities to climb on walls, he can hide in the unlikeliest of places to hide.

It's helped him more than he thought it would, this past week.

Ever since his conservation with Red Hood at the taco truck, Peter has seen a shift in the Bats around Gotham. The stalking hasn't ended, not really. He can tell Red Robin stops by on more than one occasion during the evenings to see if Peter is sticking to Benny's as Red Hood advised him to.

And Peter does. He even helps Benny out at the restaurant, and he heads up to bed afterwards without going out of the building even once. He turns off his light and goes to bed.

Spider-Man doesn't.

Red Hood told Peter to stay to inside in order to avoid Ohnn. He didn't tell Spider-Man. Tony often tells him that his ability to think of loop-holes in every rule is going to get him grounded at some point. But Peter would find a loophole then, too.

It doesn't take much to get out without notice. Red Robin goes about his business once Peter is in bed for at least an hour, convinced that he's in dreamland, safe and sound. Then Peter suits up, attaches the Jumping Radar to his wrist, and sneaks out the window.

He avoids working where the Bats' watchful eyes might see him. They have a system in place, and it's honestly pretty decent and hard to work around. But he does, because that's what he's good at. And he has the advantage of higher senses.

Signal patrols during evenings and daytime, mostly in Fashion and Diamond districts. He isn't hard to avoid, because Peter is himself during the daytime. Red Hood is based in Crime Alley- which only affirms that they stalk Peter, because Peter is based in the Upper East Side, across a river. This is where Batman and Robin (Peter thinks Robin might be around his age) usually are.

Red Robin is also in Crime Alley, but he mostly sticks to the Bowery (which is right next to Crime Alley), and he patrols Burnley as well. Peter doesn't go near those places even as Spider-Man, but he might have to at some point if he doesn't spot Ohnn in the other districts.

Spoiler sticks to Old Gotham, Chinatown, and the Tri-Corner. Nightwing patrols the University, Coventry, and Upper West Side when he's here- there are absences that he takes note of, and he's heard from Benny that Nightwing mostly belongs to a city named Bludhaven. And though they all have their preferred districts, they meet up with each other in certain zones. Probably to relay information to each other.

Though in the last week, there's been more of a scatter to their routines. Peter supposes it could be due to him telling Red Hood about Ohnn. It would make sense that they want to catch a meta with a dangerous device that makes him hard to catch, who is trying to steal money and parts off of people. But it could also be due to one of those other villains getting out.

Peter thinks the guy is named Killer Croc, and that is tons cooler than "Leap Frog" in his opinion. That Arkham Asylum place is always losing their charges, and Peter thinks they should look into getting that place more security.

But that isn't his business. Right now, Peter is focused on catching Ohnn. He had to learn their schedules in order to do that, because he doesn't want to waste time getting into a potential fight with the vigilantes over territories or whatnot.

And that means Peter gets to practice his stealth.

He has to go out into the open when stopping a mugging, a carjacking, whatever pops up into the night. But the moment it has died down, Peter slinks back into the shadows between buildings. Just like he is right now.

Only, that's because there's a certain Robin around these parts.

The University District looks different at night. Even though the Gotham Public Library is an empty void, that doesn't mean the rest of the district is. During the daytime, the streets can be filled with people going about their business. There's the university, the mall center, and Gotham Hospital all right there, leaving a constant buzz of activity.

But not at night. At night, it becomes students passing from bar to bar, risking their lives to get drunk, because Gotham is that bad, but they don't seem to care. Peter will never understand alcohol.

He means it. Not just because he's 14, and he has a memory Aunt May letting him taste a sip and it being so nasty he swore alcohol off for the rest of his life, but also because his metabolism would never allow it. And, well… He doesn't have the best of luck with those who drink alcohol around him.

Peter presses himself against the wall, his back feeling the shiver of the cold stone and brick. The sky is thick with the smell of coming rain, and Peter wonders if his patrol is going to be cut short tonight. There's a bar filled with drunk uni students below, but Peter is only focused on the whisper of 'close near where close near' in his spider-sense.

He figured out what it's trying to tell him as he leaped over to the next building. Peter's ears prick at the groaning sounds from a block or two over, and he crawls up to the roof above him just as a rumble shakes the foundations. The hair on his body stands up at attention, trembling with the air around him, and then:

BOOM?

BOOM!

A dust cloud rises from a few blocks over, car alarms rip through the night. The smoke thickens in the air and a loud roar echoes over the Gotham streets. The bar-hoppers scurry to get inside in a drunken panic, pushing each other out of the way. Peter jogs to the other end of the building, ready to jump off the side- when he remembers why he was hiding in the first place.

hello!

Peter ducks down just in time, swerving to see the flash of blue and black in the light. The Robin he was hoping to avoid has sprung into action with a graceful sweep through the air. Peter sinks into the shadows of the building, only to find his eyes drawn to how the Robin swings.

It's different than the others. Though Peter has only seen glimpses in the night, he knows that Nightwing- he doesn't just swing like the others. It's an act. A catch and throw game that he's playing, like an inside joke. Peter's eyes are glued to it, wondering if he looks the same.

His feet move without him telling them to, and he doesn't stop. He follows Nightwing, curiosity eating away at him. How does he move like there's no air around him? It's so effortless, like he's on strings, but he isn't.

Peter hops over a water silo and pads along the side of a building, wondering how close is too close before he's spotted. It's a chase between the two vigilantes, one unaware that the other has spotted the show.

It's- It's like a performer.

Peter recalls watching his father's tapes of his grandparents. They were trapeze artists, gymnasts who spent their whole lives training to fly. His father died before he got to show Peter the videos that he had, but Ben found them in the attic one day. They set up the old VHS tapes, and Peter savored the quality of the video, looking back in time like it was a storybook.

He wanted to fly like that. Maybe that's why a part of Peter enjoys being Spider-Man so much. He doesn't know where those old videos had ended up; probably somewhere in a box in the storage unit for Ben or his father. But Peter followed along to their performances and pretended he was one of them enough times for him to memorize a few of their moves.

Of course, back then, he had asthma and a penchant for breaking anything he touched or looked at. He wasn't holding out hopes that he could be a gymnast, not in reality. The dream had crashed before it even started. They were poor before Aunt May died, then they were poor after. His foster-families certainly never even considered letting Peter take a lesson, though that is due to Peter never mentioning it. They wouldn't have even if they had known.

But now? Peter savors the feeling, tries to get closer and closer to the people he only got to know through their videos. He always wondered what his dad saw, if he had ever watched the home tapes.

Nightwing swings like that. With practiced ease of a trapeze artist, a professional who's done this since birth.

Peter wants to get closer. He smiles when he notices the flips are just for fun- maybe his way of getting amped up before he throws himself into a fight. Peter does something similar.

So he dares. He dares to get closer, to step right next to the light. He runs, hopping over windows and ducking under pipes, leaping over boxes and stretching to keep up. Peter flies, holding his breath as he gets to the ends of the block, where he has to cut off before Nightwing would surely notice. He stands on the precipice, toeing the edge of the line, leaning forward as his hand sticks to the wall behind him. Peter wonders if the chips in the roofs he comes across are caused by years of swinging around Gotham.

Just one more second. Just to see what he'll do.

Nightwing's grappling hook sinks into the building ahead of him. His feet push out in front of him, mid swing and Peter watches the anticipation to his next trick-

WRONG! broken! catch! HELP!

Peter shakes his head as the spider-sense hits him full force. He lets go of the wall, eyes trained on Nightwing, then flicking his gaze up at the grappling hook just as the roof it had sunk into crumbles underneath it.

His strong suits are speed and stealth. Stealth that hides him in the night, able to follow someone as they leap through the air. And speed- that accounts for most of what Peter can do.

Time slows down for Peter.

He's noticed it before, or rather, he was told about it. What looks like seconds to an outside observer feels like a minute for Peter. Thoughts rattling around his head and screaming- it's why he rambles so much. Or maybe the rambling is helped along by the time being slowed.

Nightwing's fall is slow, Peter's thoughts are loud, and his reaction time is unmatched.

His feet dig into the stone as he drops to a runner's start. He attaches two webs to the solid brick of the building, and pushes off to jump underneath Nightwing's trajectory. Air whips around him with a sharp cutting noise as Peter lands on the side of the opposite building on the other side of the street, sticking to the wall. He feels the tug of the web and all of the hair on his body stands on end.

!Caught Caught Caught!

Peter sticks the other end of the webbing against the wall. He stands up, looking sideways to see Nightwing had landed on his back in the webbing-net he made. The buzzing in his head dissipates the moment Nightwing is safe.

Safe and confused, actually.

"What the…"

Peter strides across the spider-silk, balancing on the rope and standing at the base of the web that turns into net. The webbing doesn't move underneath his feet, the only vibrations coming from the struggling vigilante.

Nightwing is sinking into the webbing, attempting to roll over and get out. His mouth is hung open in surprise, pulling at his hands and feet only to find they can't budge. Peter lets out a giggle on accident- it's always a little amusing to watch people react to the webbing for the first time.

Nightwing startles and turns his head backwards to view Peter upside down-ish, jaw dropped and trying to tilt his head to see him.

"Nice to see you drop by." Peter tilts his head, holding his hands together in front of him. Peter waves by wiggling his fingers, sinking into a crouch to view Nightwing closer. It's weird to see the vigilante while in his own suit, with him having no idea that Peter is Spider-Man. Boy is he glad for his voice modulator right now.

"You- Hey, you're that Spiderkid," Nightwing points out.

"Uh, yeah, I am. But the name's Spider-Man. The 'man' is important to me."

"Is it?" Nightwing tries to free his hand from the web, and Peter scooches back just in case the guy his harboring secret abilities and he manages to get out. "Is this what you're doing in Gotham? Catching other vigilantes that drop out of the sky?"

"It's what I'm doing right now." Peter grins, though the other can't see behind his mask. He really should add that eye feature so it's noticeable. "You should be careful where you aim that grappling hook."

"So you've never done the same with your webs?"

"Nope." Peter pops the 'p.' "But I can see why you did it."

Nightwing scoffs, though it sounds like he's laughing. That's good, at least. "Well, SpiderMan, how long am I supposed to be in this web?"

Peter hums again, standing up and turning to look down the street. He can hear another roar rip across the night, and smell the fire as an old building crumbles away. He shouldn't stall the man any further.

"If you promise to be chill, I'll let you out right now." Peter says, pointing the way Tony does when he wants to get a point across. That's how adults speak to each other, right? "Otherwise, it'll dissolve in 30 minutes."

"30 minutes!?" Nightwing gawks at him, attempting to sit up and then realizing he can't. "Why wouldn't I be chill?"

"Uh, you'd be surprised how many vigilantes get mad when you're in their territory. I don't feel like being shot or stabbed again, I'm kinda busy." Peter says, and Nightwing's brows furrow. Is he squinting at Peter?

"How long have you been a vigilante?"

"A while." Peter states vaguely. "Do you want out or not?"

Nightwing huffs, as if really debating it. "What are you in Gotham for?"

"Business." Peter starts walking backwards along the rope. "Going once…"

"Business? What kind?"

"Hey, man, I'm not here to do anything stupid. Just got my own stuff to worry about, and then I'll be outta your hair. Going twice…" Peter raises his voice a little higher, taking another big step backward.

Nightwing groans, staring at his hands and feet. It's pointless to thrash around, there's no way he's getting out until it dissolves. Peter knows what is more important- but he seriously doesn't want to get into another turf war. He got tired the first time around.

"Goinnnnnnng-"

"Alright, alright, I wouldn't attack you." Nightwing promises. "I won't. Please let me out?"

Peter doesn't sense an untruth. And he also doesn't want to leave Nightwing in the webbing that long, not when people are in danger. He nods, satisfied with that. He's already seen that he's faster than Nightwing, so if he tries to attack, Peter will run.

He's running anyways.

Peter presses a button on his webshooter, spraying out the web dissolvant around Nightwing. Before he can fall through, Peter catches the man's wrist, thwips another web on the lamp post, and they swing down to the pavement.

Peter drops him safely to the ground, using the momentum of the swing to flip backwards onto the top of the lamppost. He spares one more glance at Nightwing- don't ask him to teach you anything- before he leaps upwards towards a building.

"See ya!"

Nightwing had just turned around to reply when Peter had slunk back into the shadows. The only evidence he was there is a web in the wind.

Peter hops between two buildings, barely looking back at where he left Nightwing and rising up towards the roofs again a few blocks away. He scatters into the wind, putting more and more distance between him and the rampaging villain and the vigilantes.

He falls off of the side of one building, recalling how Nightwing did a certain flip… He itches to try it out as he plummets closer to the ground.

Just once won't kill him, right?

He thwips out his webbing, pulling himself up at the last second. He attempts to copy the other vigilante, burning the steps into his head much the same that he burned the old TV with the image of his grandparents' tapes of their gymnastic routines. He holds on through the low point of the drop, brings himself upwards, and flips forwards.

He releases himself into the air as he turns upside down- his mind stalling with the view of the city reaching towards the sky. When he's right side up again, he lifts his legs up to his chest, and thwips out a new web to swing upside down.

Peter lets out a whoop as he flips backwards during the swing, catching himself with another web and circling around a block corner. That's way more fun than he thought it would be!

He's about to try it again when the Jumping Radar beeps out at him.

Peter lands on the side of a building, sticking his back and his feet to the wall and lifting his wrist to see what he's got. His pulse quickens as he spots a turbulence of air down the block. He only has seconds to act!

He leaps off the side, swinging over to the direction just as a flash of light appears. He thwips a web to Ohnn's foot, yanking the man upward into the air as soon as he jumps.

Ohnn lets out a screech of terror, grabbing at the webbing and attempting to pull it off his foot. Spider-Man lands on the ground and yanks Ohnn down into the street. He hits the ground with a THUNK, but scrambles up so quickly that Spider-Man curses.

So he needs to put even more strength behind his attacks? That could get dangerous, if Spider-Man isn't careful.

Ohnn manages to get the first webbing off of his foot, but Spider-Man sticks another webbing onto his chest, pulling him closer and spinning in a circle. Ohnn holds on to the webbing, cursing at Spider-Man over the wind. Spider-Man grits his teeth and lets go when Ohnn's body gains enough momentum, slamming Ohnn into an unoccupied building.

The wall starts to crumble and Spider-Man curses, leaping over there and starting to web up the wall. He didn't know the hit would be that bad!

Ohnn, though, is getting up as if the hit had never happened. He's brushing off his clothes and spitting at Spider-Man, pointing up at him and bellowing out, "YOU ROTTEN THING!"

"Well, that wasn't very nice." Spider-Man drops into the alley, stretching his arms and holding back a shuttery breath. "You should watch how you talk to people."

You can do this, Spider-Man. He tells himself, bouncing on his toes. No one can hurt Spider-Man. You always get back up.

"What's your fuckin' problem, Spidey!? Huh!?" Ohnn shrieks at him, stumbling around the alley like a drunk. Spider-Man tilts his head, confused by how… un-put together he is. He knew the man was looney-toones, but to be this out of it? It's like the man is off kilter, always leaning towards the side. He only manages to stay upright by luck, flopping around instead.

"My problem is you. Give me that tech and I'll stop chasing you."

"It's MINEEEE!" Ohnn caws, almost whines, seizing his own wrist and shaking it out as if to taunt Spider-Man. "You can't HAAAAVE it! No one can, I worked too hard on it!"

"You're gonna hurt yourself or someone else with that thing!" Spider-Man argues, taking a step forward. Ohnn yelps and takes a step backwards, tripping over his foot. "You already-"

"I am NOT giving up now!" Ohnn protests, shaking his head violently. "I spent so many years on this! Everyone laughed at me, you know! You-You probably are laughing at me too! But I did it! I created the ability to travel dimensions! MY name will be in history books EVERYWHERE!"

He turns his back to Spider-Man.

NOW!

Spider-Man lifts his wrists to attack, but Ohnn's head whips 180 degrees to stare at Peter, his body still facing in the other direction. Spider-Man's heart sinks and he stumbles backwards, unfortunately gagging at the sight. "EW!"

"YOU!" Ohnn screams, turning his body around. His face contorts with rage, and his senses scream RUN OUT NOW GO RUN AWAY NO GO- "YOU! YOU AREN'T TAKING IT FROM ME!"

"We'll see about that!" Spider-Man runs towards him, and Ohnn reaches out with both hands to grab at him. He lunges towards Spider-Man, but he hits the deck and slides underneath the leap. He webs the man's shirt again and pulls, smacking Ohnn's forehead against the pavement.

He jumps up and flips, pulling Ohnn back out into the street. Ohnn rolls over with inhuman speed, hissing at Spider-Man and snapping the web. He jumps to his own feet, and in a bright flash of light, disappears in the air.

The Jumping Radar doesn't let him down, not this time. Spider-Man knows where he's going to appear- exactly above and behind him.

SIDE!

Spider-Man ducks to the side, narrowly missing a hand grabbing for his throat. Spider-Man webs his back, risking how close he has to get to Ohnn in order to pull the gauntlet off of his arm. Ohnn kicks at him as Spider-Man reaches around his arm, and he feels a tug at his gut as the gauntlet teleports them.

Spider-Man sucks in a breath as they appear on a roof, and Ohnn snatches at his wrist, throwing Spider-Man over his shoulder. Spider-Man lands on his back so hard that the air is knocked out of him. Spider-Man shakes his head, kicking up and slamming his heel into Ohnn's throat.

Ohnn gags, wheezing for air and grabbing at his throat. His eyes widen as he backs away from Spider-Man, who flips up onto his feet. He points at the Jumping Radar, hissing out, "WHAT is that! What did you do!?"

"You aren't the only genius in the universe, jerk." Spider-Man jumps forward, punching Ohnn in the face. Ohnn blocks the next hit, swinging one of his own. Spider-Man leans backwards to dodge it, gritting his teeth as he puts his hand on the ground. He kicks Ohnn's stomach as hard as he can without killing him, and the man flies backwards.

"URGH! DIE ALREADY, YOU NASTY BUG!"

"I'm an arachnid!" Spider-Man yells back. But his voice is caught in his throat as his spider-sense rings out:

BAD BAD BAD

Huh?

Ohnn's nails contort on his hands, sharp talons… no. No, those aren't talons. Ohnn's fingernails look like the fangs of a snake. Chills run down Spider-Man's body, and he backs away a good fifteen steps as Ohnn strikes, fast like a-

Like a snake!

Spider-Man has to leap off of the building in order to avoid the fangs from digging into his skin. Ohnn howls in a fury, jumping after him. Spider-Man's heart races, trying to think of a clear way to get close without getting touched by those things. He rolls into the busier street-

BUSIER STREET.

SHIT!

Spider-senses and the Jumping Radar scream at the same time. Spider-Man looks up, down, around, until his eyes land on the spot that he's about to appear. People are pointing to him in the street, phones are getting pulled out, and others are starting to run in the other direction.

BUS BUS BUS GET BUS

"I know!" Spider-Man growls at himself. Ohnn appears next to a bus, hitting the back tire.

His super strength makes the bus rear forward, the front end careening towards the street filled with pedestrians. Spider-Man jumps into the fray, noting the ash that whips into the wind.

Spider-Man webs the street and a light pole, leaping through the way of the bus. He digs his feet into the ground and pulls back as the bus pushes through the webbing, the tires squealing and citizens shrieking as their lives flash before their eyes. Spider-Man grits his teeth, pulling the bus back before it can slam into the sidewalk.

Silence rings out as he lets go of the webbing. He turns on his heel, hopping over the bus and to the side with the doors. He opens the doors with one hand, dashing up the stairs. "Is everyone okay!?"

Safe, safe, safe, worried, safe, hurt-

Peter checks on each seat inside the bus. The worst injury was a broken wrist of an elderly woman in the middle of the bus. Peter sighs in relief as he kneels next to her, citizens craning their heads and leaning over the seats to watch Spider-Man.

He doesn't have a first aid kit on him right now, but her wrist doesn't look too bad. To be sure, Peter should brace it temporarily.

"Miss, the webbing is gonna feel weird, but it'll prevent the break from getting worse until the ambulance arrives." Peter informs her. The old woman smiles at him, reaching with her good hand to pat his head.

"Oh, you're such a sweet young man!" She coos, and Peter is glad the mask prevents him from getting more embarrassed by his red face. "You were so brave!"

"Yeah, that was sick as fuck!" A little boy shouts, jumping to see Peter over the seat with stars in his eyes. "Y'ran out in front of the bus so fast!"

"And you caught us, like it was nothin'!" A woman adds on, and Peter shakes his head. He slings the woman's wrist, and another voice calls out to him.

"Hey, kid, who are ya?" It's a familiar voice. Peter's eyes widen as he looks at the face of the man that he first saw when he got to Gotham, the man with the paper who directed him to the library. Bus Stop Guy sits up out of his seat, his hat askew and dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief. "Are you with the Bats and Robins?"

"Yeah, are ya? I've never seen ya before!" A teenager asks.

"I saw 'im on Twitta!"

"It's called-"

"Twitta!" An older woman interrupts. "I thought he looked familiar!"

Peter stands up, making his way towards the front of the bus as they call out to him. A quick glance outside tells him that they're all safe and accounted for as well. Peter relaxes his shoulders, looking back at the bus-riders.

"I'm Spider-Man." He tells them, glad that they're alright. "I'm not a Bat or a Robin. But we're on the same team. Ish."

"Well, whatever y'are, I'm glad y'were here!" The bus driver wipes his brow, fanning his face to calm down. "Can we-"

"I gotta get going, everybody." Peter says, and the young boy whines in protest. "Vigilante duties call! I'm glad you're all okay!"

"Bye, Spider-Man!" Someone shouts as he exists the bus, and he hears more calls as he swings out of the street.

Peter collapses onto a nearby roof, groaning with slightly sore muscles. It was harder to stop that bus than it should have been. He isn't eating enough for his metabolism. It's making him slower, making him weaker.

Making him more like Peter.

But we are Peter.

"Just great," Peter sits up, his head in his hands. "He's a snake mutant. Just perfect."

Peter isn't so sure what would win between a snake and a spider. But he's sure as hell going to make sure it's the spider this time. He was hoping that Ohnn was a reptilian mutant, not a serpent. Serpents move quicker.

The nail fangs… and that NECK THING. Peter shivers, resisting the urge to get a little sick. That was nasty, he can't believe that Ohnn can do that.

Peter almost had him this time, though. If only he hadn't led Ohnn to such a busy street. Maybe he can lure Ohnn somewhere more abandoned, next time? Ugh, this is all so disheartening. Yet again, Ohnn got away because he missed something.

? Hey now who?

He sits up, turning to see what is causing his spider-sense to tingle. There's nothing there… He jumps to his feet, walking around the roof curiously. What could he be missing? Is someone-

Someone is watching him.

He freezes as he spots them. It's a Bat he doesn't recognize, mostly hidden in shadow, save for her hand. As if she wanted him to see her. Shivers run down his spine, trying to listen for a sign of her. Even her heartbeat is quiet, as if she knew how to silence it.

What is she doing there? How long as she been watching him?

She steps out of the shadows, a curious lean to her body language. She's studying him.

Her costume is familiar, if only because it's as hidden as Batman's in the night. Dark as the sky and shadows, a mask that resembles Batman's, a cape that swishes out as she stalks over the roofs. And a proud yellow and black bat symbol on her chest, clearly making a statement that she wanted him to know. I'm here, and I was seeing you.

How long as she been in the city? The entire time? Peter had not once noticed her here, and he thought he had noticed everyone. The idea that she could know everything makes his stomach churn.

She doesn't approach him. Instead, she waves goodbye, and sinks back into the shadows.

"You're late!" Red Hood hisses through the comms as Nightwing swings into the fight. Killer Croc meets wall to snout with a resounding SMACK, missing Red Hood by a thread. The wall crumbles overhead, crushing Killer Croc's head beneath the stone. He isn't down, not yet, because he's still thrashing around and trying to get out.

The street is a mess by the time Nightwing gets there, though it probably already was the second Killer Croc finally started his rampage. He'll have to use Bruce's card to help with the clean up when the fight is over. It certainly didn't help that Nightwing was a minute behind on getting there- but at least he didn't come empty handed.

"I ran into that SpiderMan." Nightwing informs them, landing on a car that had been busted in.

"You what?" Red Robin nearly stops himself mid swing to whirl around at Nightwing, but he flips and lands on the street to hide behind a car. Red Hood ducks behind the car Nightwing is standing on, one hand reaching into his utility belt to grab at the tranq gun they keep on them just for this. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me. What happened? What did he say?"

"SpiderMan?" Red Hood huffs, clicking the safety off of the tranq gun as Killer Croc unearths himself from the rubble. "That his name? He looks like a baby, from what I heard."

"It's very important to him that we use the 'man.'" He repeats. But he agrees with Red Hood. The kid was around Damian's age, and that certainly isn't a man. SpiderBoy would be more accurate.

"Well?" Red Robin is aiming his own tranq gun at the soft spots in Croc's armored skin. The tranqs bounce off, just missing the areas by a thread. He sounds just as aggravated now as everyone has heard him when the topic of Spider-Man is brought up. "What did he say? What was he like? Should we be worried? Did he explain himself?"

Killer Croc rears around like a bull, grabbing rubble off of the ground as a precursor to smacking them over the head with it. Red Robin curses and flips off of the car, running to hide as Killer Croc aims for Nightwing and his spots. Nightwing ducks away, spotting Red Hood running towards Croc's blindspot.

"I think he's funny," Nightwing comments, and he hears Red Robin groan in their comms as he gets out of range.

"That sounds like hell."

"He also kinda saved my ass back there." Nightwing reaches into his utility belt, hand brushing past the grappling hook. "My hook snagged on a bad part of a building and I almost ate it on the pavement."

He ignores the fact that his hands had shaken for a minute, after realizing how bad it could have been. Just like-

"He caught you?" Red Hood grunts as he ducks out of the way of Croc's claws. They slice through a light pole and the pole careens into the window of a shop.

"He made a net with that spider-webbing that people keep mentioning." Nightwing aims his tranq at the underside of Croc's armpit. Tranq sinks into flesh, but Croc still isn't done. He needs another tranq before that can happen. "It was pretty cool, if unpleasant to touch."

"So what's his deal?" Red Robin grows impatient.

"Wouldn't tell me." Nightwing rolls towards a trash can as Croc sniffs out where the tranq had come from. "But he swears he isn't here for trouble."

"Do we really think it's a coincidence he arrived around the same time that Ohnn guy showed up?" Red Robin sneaks around to Croc's blind side, gritting his teeth when Croc abruptly changes course and heads his way. "Aw, shit."

Red Hood uses this to his advantage, tranq bullet biting into the back of Croc's knee. Croc stumbles down and Red Robin leaps over his head, seconds away from Croc snapping down and biting his foot.

Croc rolls over as Red Robin puts another tranq into his side- just in case. They pause for a few moments, watching as his breathing gets slower and slower. Eventually, it puts to a slow sleeping sigh, and they release their fighting stances.

The other two vigilantes are far more out of breath than Nightwing is, putting in more work than he had. He bites down his worry, knowing that one wouldn't appreciate it and the other would just tell him to keep it to himself or die.

Brothers… Why can't they just let him fuss over them?

"I don't know if it's a coincidence or not. But I don't think he was lying to me." Nightwing admits. He puts his hands on his hips as Red Robin waves down the street. The police that had held back during the fight now come rushing forward, so they have to get out.

Their trio hurries out of police reach, observing from the top of a building to make sure nothing goes wrong with transport. At least until Killer Croc inevitably gets his way out of Arkham again, they don't have to worry.

Red Robin sits on the building, catching his breath and mulling this over as his legs dangle on the side. "Batgirl is out tonight. Maybe she'll get a chance to figure out what SpiderMan is up to. If him being here is related to Ohnn, and he isn't a threat to us, then we should try and work with him."

"I wonder if he knows anything about Peter and Tony." Red Hood's comment lets slip another frustrated groan from Red Robin.

"I would love if someone could have any idea about those two."

"I take it nothing has come up still?" Nightwing sits down next to him. He hopes that Peter is staying inside right now, and isn't out doing who knows what- like following dangerous men in the streets and stumbling across bleeding vigilantes again.

He still doesn't understand that. Why would Peter make a decision like that? Unless he thought that Ohnn wouldn't hurt him? But Ohnn certainly proved that he could and would, no matter what Peter tries to tell them. He's alleviating their worry for no reason- it's their job to take down bad guys who pull this crap.

He just has to get them closer as civilians. If they can gain Peter's trust… maybe they could take Peter in?

No, no. He wants Peter to have a normal childhood. Even if it means they don't get to see it. It would be awful to drag another kid into this world, risking their life every day and night.

But the idea of Peter sitting at home with them doesn't sound bad. Not at all.

"Nothing, nada, zilch. A big fat goose egg of nothing." Red Robin complains, laying back on the roof with his arms above his head. "But him being right about Ohnn and clearly having gotten his ass kicked gives him some credibility."

"You think he's lying?"

Nightwing knows it comes out funny, because-

"You think he isn't?" Red Robin sits up again, gawking at Nightwing. "Blue…"

"Look, I know he's keeping secrets, but I don't think he is responsible for Ohnn. I think he's really gotten mixed up in something because of this Tony guy. And Peter is just trying to defend him, even if he shouldn't."

None of them can argue with that. It sounds right on the money.

Ba-ding.

Red Robin's lip curls in displeasure. "That's your notification noise? What is wrong with you?"

"I like this one," Nightwing pulls out his phone. "It sounds like a little bird with a bell."

"Everything is wrong with you." Red Hood has his own phone out, scrolling through the Batchat like Nightwing. He pauses, and lets out a laugh, pointing at his phone and showing them the screen. "You seein' this?"

Nightwing is seeing this.

Cass has sent a video of SpiderMan in their chat.

It starts with a frame of Nightwing in the background, SpiderMan leaving him behind. Cass follows in the shadows, keeping an eye on him. SpiderMan swings- Wow. Nightwing can't help but grin.

He knew that SpiderMan had to have been nearby to be able to catch him, but he didn't know that SpiderMan had been watching him long enough to see what he was doing while swinging around. It's the exact same swinging that Nightwing was having fun with before the grappling hook gave in.

"Huh…" Nightwing watches. The kid is a natural. He picked up the moves incredibly fast, if he hasn't done it before. Nightwing is surprised, but pretty impressed that he pulled it off so easily. Maybe even a little jealous.

And he grins wider when he hears SpiderMan let out a little whoop as he swings. He's having just as much fun as Nightwing does when he can pull off that move.

"He's just like Blue over here…" Red Robin complains. "Look at him, showing off like that. No wonder you like him."

"He's having fun," Nightwing defends, laughing as SpiderMan takes the corner, and Cass struggles to keep up even with her training. The kid is fast, even faster than Nightwing thought.

"Whoa…" Red Hood stares at his phone. "That was impressive."

"Hey, spoiler alert!" Red Robin shushes him. "I'm behind you!"

"This kid…" Red Hood shakes his head, taunting Red Robin, who complains again. "Watch how fast he can change direction."

Nightwing does watch, and he's just the same amount of impressed. The kid fights like nobody's business, keeping up with- "That's Ohnn!" -despite the man being a meta.

"So SpiderMan and Ohnn do have something to do with each other." Red Robin whistles. "But at least they're enemies. This is looking good… Damn! Did you see that kick to the stomach!? He has better balance than you do, Blue!"

Nightwing checks the messages underneath the video.

Cass [11:39PM]: :thumbsup:

Duuuuke [11:43PM]: holy moly this guy is fast

Duuuuke [11:43PM]: like wtf

Damian [11:44PM]: Did you see him swing that man around like he is a hammer thrower in the Olympics?

Damian [11:44PM]: I demand we search for him immediately.

Duuuuke [11:45PM]: I mean yeah we need to and Tim is doing that but why?

Damian [11:45PM]: Father must convince him to join the team. At least to spar with me.

Duuuuke [11:46PM]: I doubt that it would be THAT easy

Bruce [11:47PM]: :thumbsup:

Duuuuke [11:47PM]: wow. it was that easy

Damian [11:48PM]: YES

Duuuuke [11:48PM]: wait aren't you supposed to be getting to bed

Damian [11:50PM]: Aren't you supposed to learn to mind your business?

Duuuuke [11:50PM]: WOOOOOOOW you're just gonna hate crime me, huh?

Damian [11:51PM]: Deal with it, or die. Not my problem.

Peter is growing more and more tired by the day. Not just mentally tired (though it certainly is hitting the hardest), but physically tired too.

His enhanced metabolism is meant for five meals a day, technically speaking. But there isn't enough time in the world normally for him to eat that much, let alone in an alternate universe where he's homeless again. There's no way he's going to bother Benny for food like that, not a chance. Benny's is struggling to get customers (despite that the place has the best burger this side of Gotham ((Peter would have no idea if that's true. He's only tried Benny's and he has a bias.))

In his own universe, he eats bigger dinner proportions and has snacks during the day to tide him over. "To keep your growing spiders strong and healthy." Pepper would remind him, when Peter said it was too much (it wasn't). FRIDAY was the one who had to remind Tony and Peter both when it was time to eat and sleep. They'd just get caught up in a whirlwind of ideas and projects, and when that happened, time would stop existing for them.

But no matter what, he was getting enough to eat for the first time in a long time. And now? He certainly isn't eating as much as he should be even if he had a normal metabolism, and it's starting to affect him.

Peter noticed it during his fight with Ohnn two nights ago, when he caught that bus. He's growing weaker, and what is crazy to him is that he would never have noticed that he wasn't eating enough if his body hadn't gotten used to eating the proper amount. He fights just like before, but he can tell how fast he could be now.

He arrived in this world on October 2nd, and today is October 18th. The more time he spends here, the weaker he is getting. But he doesn't have the money or resources to eat as much as he should.

So what he can't make up for in strength because he's getting weaker, he has to make up for in smarts. And that means sacrificing his emergency money to get cheap hardware for a lab in his room, because he certainly can't update the Jumping Radar without proper equipment. It's a miracle he got what he did without a proper soldering iron.

The Jumping Radar could be improved if Peter were to accurately detect when Ohnn first appears, and how far the radius of his jumps can spread. He only ever seems to make small jumps, and then the dimensional jumps, differentiated by a flash of bright light verses turning to ash. And the black out- Peter should start looking out for that, maybe he'll be able to see it on the news? Benny has a TV…

Peter just has to make better tech, and he could get Ohnn on the ropes… And get better armor. Those fang nail things were no joke.

His current suit is made out of Kevlar and spandex, with a layer of fabric over the top made out of high-strength spider silk that makes it hard to cut. Peter's had several suits over the years, but before Tony, all he had was spandex he had to save up for, and it wasn't as reliable because it could get ripped. But there isn't enough Kevlar or spider-silk in his suit to resist the super strength that Ohnn has, and those claws could find a way to scratch Peter. He isn't eager to see what kind of venom the guy is packing in that punch. So he might need to lose some flexibility and start adding on body armor.

Which costs money.

That Peter doesn't have.

There's so much he needs to account for, that it's driving him crazy! He's always been painfully aware of grocery prices, but when he's working on a budget that maybe expands $20 or less every other day, it feels impossible.

Peter stares at the line of hardware equipment in front of him, debating on how much $367 can get him. The hardware store that he found is in the Upper East End, thankfully, because while Peter is looking for cheap stuff, he wasn't planning to go to the Bowery to find something cheaper. So if he hadn't found one here, he would have had to go to Old Gotham or the other, more expensive, districts in order to find something.

So here he is, standing in a store and doing the math in his head about what he can afford to get.

And ugh… Peter is gonna have to give up on the body armor idea before he even gets started. Just looking at the prices for all of the stuff he needs is enough to cut that idea off completely. Peter ignores the sound of the bell at the front door in favor of biting his thumb nail and tapping his foot anxiously, squinting at the row of tools.

He has to focus on the Jumping Radar, he reasons. Body armor isn't as much of a priority, he'll just have to be more careful.

But what tools does he get? He got by with the tools that Benny had laying around, but he needs his own set if he wants to keep this thing running. Screwdrivers, pliers, wrenches, hammers, a new soldering iron, dremel tool, calipers, rulers, measuring tapes, multi meter, safety glasses, ear protection, gloves-

And then he's gonna need electronic components, like wires, resistors, capacitors, a breadboard kit for prototyping and testing circuits without soldering- oh, man, he can only imagine how well the Jumping Radar could do with he had a 3D printer!

No no no, Peter, think about what you can do, and don't cry about what you lost.

All of this adds up to stuff that he can't afford, not with the amount he has. Maybe he should get back into the fixing-up business… That kind of work used to get him a good few hundred a week, just because he was in so much demand. Everyone always needs at least one thing fixed around their business or their house, and Peter was the one to call if you lived in Queens.

He could do a lot of that in Gotham. Everything needs fixing around here.

Peter bites the bullet and picks up a new soldering iron kit, a dremel tool, breadboard kit, a caliper, and a wrench kit, because he needs those the most. And for good measure he grabs goggles and headphones, muttering the math out loud.

Started with $367… ending up with about $177.89, if his math is right. Oh, but taxes… so around $175.

That's not too bad. Peter stares at his basket of items, chewing on his bottom lip. He'll have to save up what he gets from Benny… and he'll have to start up his fixing up business, like he thought. He won't get as much, because he'll have to start with lower pricing, but he might not stand out too much if he risks it, and that's enough to convince him to consider it. Maybe most people will leave him alone because of his age, like they did in New York.

But there is always a risk that he could pick the wrong client and they try to make him 'work' for them. Peter is well aware that some people would take advantage of his engineering habit. He should be careful about that, like always. He's not going to get caught up in any sort of fishy business.

Benny has the rest of the tools he needs, and Benny never asks what he's doing in there. His only rule was no drugs or funny business, and Peter is sure that the man probably tracks where his things are going to make sure Peter is following them.

It's the only reason that Peter resists grabbing beakers so he can make his web fluid at Benny's instead of sneaking into a school next time. Because there isn't a lot of reason for him to have those lying around, and he can't explain it away with 'webbing.'

Peter checks his basket again, letting out a sigh as he walks down the aisle and closer to the windows.

October 18th. That's 17 days he's been here, and it's getting colder outside. It's starting to look like Peter might be spending Halloween here in Gotham… Tony, Pepper, and he were supposed to go to see a new scary movie that was coming out.

Maybe they'll go without him…

Peter shakes his head. Colder. He'll have to spend the rest of his money on getting a thicker coat, or two, because he'll need one as Spider-Man. His suit doesn't have a heating system or anything like that, because when he made it, he hadn't thought about needing it. Tony said they would add it to his next suit.

Can $175 get him a new coat or two? Like, proper winter ones?

…watching…

He subtly turns to face the rack, looking out of his peripherals. There's an older boy at the end of the aisle that doesn't look like he's watching Peter, but he's the only other person in the store save for the cashier.

Peter pretends to look at a pack of brushes, kneeling down and wondering if he was just in the boy's way. When the feeling doesn't go away, and the guy just keeps inching closer to where Peter is, he finds it hard to believe that this guy is actually just paying attention to the shelves.

What could he want? Is he wondering why a 14 year old is getting stuff from a hardware store? Or is it something else?

As the boy gets closer, Peter stands up, setting the brush pack down and choosing to go to another aisle. He doesn't want to deal with whatever this guy is up to. Apparently, that's not what the guy wanted, because he suddenly blurts out:

"Hey, uh, do you know where to find the wrench kits?"

Peter and the boy stare at each other for a long stretch of silence. Peter's gaze drifts to the wrench kit right in front of his face, then back to him. He's familiar, now that he is getting a good look at the guy face to face…

"Wait, are you Coupon Guy?" Peter points at him, and the name immediately makes the guy's face scrunch up.

"Yeah, uh, that's me. I thought you looked familiar…" The boy rubs the back of his neck. So he had recognized Peter from the stairwell? Peter releases his guard, feeling much better knowing this isn't going south. "Wrench kits?"

"Aisle three, middle shelf." Peter grins cheekily.

Coupon raises a brow at the specificity, looking up to the aisle numbers to find that they are currently on aisle three. His eyes fall on the wrench kit in front of him, Peter sees his face fall somewhat, probably embarrassed. He's 2-0 with Peter in the winning.

"Ah, right. Thanks." Coupon does his best impression of someone who isn't annoyed at all by this outcome.

"You're welcome. Got any… coupons for that?" Peter grins up at him, and Coupon bites down a flash of amusement. Peter thinks he's missing out, he finds that joke to be delightful.

"Ah-haaa, funny, funny kid." Coupon wags a finger at him, setting down the wrench kit and leaning on the shelf. "You know, I was just making sure a freshman wasn't skipping class or whatever."

"Are you like, a hall monitor or something?"

"No, just a concerned upperclassman."

"Well, that's sweet of you, Coupon."

"Ok, enough of that. My name's Tim," Coupon reaches out to shake Peter's hand. Peter hesitates, but he shakes his hand, trying to stay confident with a firm grip. "Tim Drake. You?"

"Peter."

Tim tilts his head. "No last name?"

"You know you're a stranger, right?" Peter replies, and Tim waves his hand dismissively.

"Pffft! You know my name and we go to school together, that makes us friends, not strangers." He tells Peter, who could argue with the logic if he really wanted to, but it isn't worth fighting over.

But… problem:Peter doesn't know what to give.

Like he said earlier in his inner monologue-ing, with Red Hood, he's been worried this entire time on what last name to give to people, just in case he has a counterpart in this world after all, or if the name goes back to someone. Peter Benjamin John Andrea Parker is pretty fucking specific, but it's not like he's telling them his full name.

AGH, but Peter Parker could be enough to start looking through names and stuff like that, and if he gave any of his names, that'd be it. They'd find him through the real names that he has.

So that leaves him with using a different name, one that can't be tied back to him. What about Stark? Or Potts? But Peter isn't really their son and the idea is casted away as soon as he thinks it, accompanied by a sharp pain in his chest. Peter searches and searches through his mind for a single name, all in a millisecond as he feels time slow down around him.

Think, Peter, think!

"Grayson." Peter replies.

It's the first name he could think of. And now he's stupidly said it, even after saying he wasn't going to use a name connected to him in any way. 'Grayson' was the name his father had before he was adopted and wanted to change it, though Peter doesn't know why it comes to him now. Something in Tim's smile falls.

Peter has to commit, otherwise he looks like a liar.

"I'm Peter Grayson."

"Peter, Grayson…?" Tim repeats, as if it meant something to him. Peter doesn't have time to ask what that could be about, because he slips back into an easy-going smile. "Well, Peter, what's a freshman doing at a hardware store on a Friday?"

He looks down at Peter's basket, which feels personal, so Peter covers it with one arm without thinking. Tim doesn't let it show if this bothered him or not. "What's an upperclassman doing at a hardware store on a Friday?"

"Just grabbing a new wrench kit, my old one is missing a lot of pieces." Tim tells him, selecting a kit off of the shelf. "I like taking things apart and putting them back together, but it's hard if you're missing some tools to do the job. Your turn."

"I'm the same," Peter finds himself feeling relaxed when he doesn't sense a lie. Tim had opened the kit and looked inside, reaching for the smaller bits to count them out. Someone who has experience with tools would think about that, he thinks. Peter had done the same when picking out his own kits. "I figured I should stop borrowing my landlord's tools. He's nice, but he needs his stuff back."

"What are you making?" Tim glances at his basket again.

"Clocks, radios, that kind of stuff. Sometimes I fix things for people, like fridges." Peter shrugs, taking his own look at Tim's items. He had picked out an Allen wrench set, a wire cutter, and a set of micro-controllers. "Whoa, are you making a robot?"

"Huh?" Tim blinks at him, glancing at his tools, and then back at Peter. His lips tug into a sly smile, his voice rising with interest. "Yeah, I am. You knew that based on the tools? Have you ever tried?"

"My dad taught me how to." Peter bounces on his toes a little, recalling making Little Legs, and when he first met DUM-E in Tony's lab. Little Legs must know that Peter is referring to it, because it wiggles in his jacket pocket and tickles Peter's hand. "He has one that helps around his lab, he's pretty cool to work with, if a little slow. He's gonna teach me how to make a bigger one next time."

If you get back.

Shut up.

"Is he an engineer?" Tim's eyes are gleaming with something Peter can't name.

"Yeah, uh, he is." Peter can't exactly tell Tim that Tony owns a billion-dollar company that doesn't exist in his universe, but Tony is an engineer. "He knows, like, everything. He's way smarter than I could ever be, but I can keep up I guess. What are you making?"

Tim has forgotten all about the wrenches. He sets them down in his basket, and Peter recognizes the spark of someone who's just been asked about his engineering project. "Something like a roomba, but specifically to annoy my family."

"What's it gonna do? Clean up?"

"Oh, no no no, that would annoy Alfred if we tried to replace him with a robot. And it wouldn't be nearly as good. Nah, I'm thinking I'll make it to steal shoes around the house."

He's caught on the fact that Tim's family might have a housekeeper (what the heck is this guy doing in the Upper East End?) but he forgets it as soon as he hears what it'll be doing. It's so specific, that Peter can't suppress a giggle. "So, are you using wheels, tracks, or legs?"

"We have a lot of stairs around the house, so I scratched wheels off the list even if they were more simple. I'll probably go for tracks and program it to avoid staircases. For now, I just wanna focus on getting the basics down. Like how it's gonna pick up the shoes."

"It could have a scooper." Peter muses, wondering what he would use if it was him. "Though, the weight distribution would be a problem. Maybe the scooper could put the shoes on its back?"

"I hadn't thought about that." Tim blinks. "Jay wears some heavy boots…"

"So you'd have to teach it to recognize what's too big for it carry."

"Maybe if-"

"Timmy! There you are!" A girl calls out. Peter and Tim are both surprised by the interruption- Peter on account that he got so wrapped up that he hadn't sensed her coming. He really has to stop doing that! A girl slings her arms around Tim's neck, but it's more like a chokehold than an affectionate gesture. Still, the blonde has a pretty smile as she chokes Tim to death. "You must have forgot we were with you, silly!"

"M-Mercy-" Tim pats her elbow.

Peter takes a step back, wary of the newcomer and her strength. Tim's pale face grows a little red as the girl ignores him, instead smiling at Peter. There's a boy next to her- Oh, it's the same guy that Tim had been walking with on the stairs. He's wearing another really nice winter coat.

"Hi!" The girl holds out one hand for Peter to shake, still locking Tim in the other. Her cheery disposition is rattled by the image of Tim's almost murder. "I almost didn't see you there. Are you a friend of Tim's?"

"Well, that's what he said, so I guess." Peter shakes her hand politely. "Nice to meet you."

"Gu-Guys," Tim chokes out, and the girl finally lets him go. He breathes a sigh of relief, rubbing at his neck and standing up to shoot a glare in her direction. "Peter, this is Duke and Stephanie."

"You're Coupon's friend from the stairs." Peter grins at Duke. The other boy's lips press into a line as tries not to laugh. Tim's face reddens, shooting a scowl at Peter not uncommon for him to get.

Coupon just makes it so easy, how could he not?

"We're gonna be good friends." Duke affirms, patting Peter's shoulder.

"Steph, Duke, this is Peter Grayson." Tim tells them, and Peter again watches something flicker over their faces at his name.

Did he pick a weird last name or something? Or is Peter missing something?

Stephanie doesn't hold it long. She instead coos at Peter, "So you must be the freshie that Duke told me about! They didn't mention how adorable you are. Are you two done here? It's around lunchtime, and I'm getting hungry."

Tim nods, looking at his basket and sending Peter a Just Between Us kind of smile. Peter is stuck on Stephanie obviously teasing him by calling him 'adorable', because her smile is not unlike that of Tony's when he does the same thing. "I've got everything I need. Pete, you hungry?"

"Oh, uh, I mean…" Peter glances outside. It is around the time that he needs to eat, but he's spending the last of his emergency money on this shopping trip and getting some new winter coats. He has enough money to get food if he uses the $30 he got from helping Benny at the restaurant last night…

Peter sighs shortly. "Yeah, I guess."

"Great!" Steph takes the basket off of Peter's arm faster than he thought possible, and she shoves it into Tim's hands. "You sound like you're from New York. Are you new here? Have you tried BatBurger yet?"

"B-BatBurger?" Peter stammers. Tim is just as shocked as Peter, but Duke is snickering under his breath. Peter reaches for his basket, but Steph intertwines her arm with Peter's and starts pulling him to the doors. "Uh, I didn't check out yet-"

"Timmy can get it." Steph replies, not missing a step in her sweet voice. Duke follows the pair of them, leaving Tim in the aisle with a doom cloud hanging overhead. He's gawking at Steph as if she had just stolen Peter from him.

"But, it's super expensive-"

"He can afford it, don't worry about that." Steph opens the door, the bell ringing loud in Peter's ear as he watches Tim head for the register. Duke gives Peter a What Can You Do? shrug that leaves him baffled.

Are all Gotham people just this weird? Is this normal, to kidnap a 14 year old in broad daylight? And what if Tim snoops through his things? There's nothing seriously incriminating, but what if!? He's smart enough to figure out what Peter can do with all of that!

And also, Peter doesn't want to have to pay him back! He has the money now, but what if he doesn't in a few days (or, universe forbid, a few weeks)? Peter hates owing people money or favors!

"If you've never tried BatBurger," Stephanie has no idea to his plight, merely dragging Peter along down the street. "-then you have to get the BatMeal first. Everyone does, so you can see what figure you get."

"I'm sorry, what?"

Stephanie finally looks down at him, giving his arm a playful squeeze. "It's like Burger King, but it's themed around Batman and the Robins. You know, Gotham's very own vigilantes?"

"Oh, them." Peter nods dumbly. He hadn't seen a restaurant like that around here, but he also hasn't been looking out for that during his stay. "So, a uh, BatMeal is like…"

"A kid's meal. It comes with a little figurine of them, but you don't get to pick who you get. It's like one of those mystery game things. People try to collect them." Duke explains, and Peter's first thought:

"But they don't have pictures on the wiki? Seriously? You're telling me you guys have figurines of them, but no pictures." Peter's comment causes silence, but he doesn't notice. "What, did they pose for them?"

"There's pictures on social media." Duke reasons as they turn the corner. "No one knows how accurate the figurines are unless they see them all the time or something. They could be all wrong."

Peter looks over his shoulder, not able to sense Tim. "Shouldn't we wait for Coupon? I'm starting to feel bad."

"He knows where the nearest BatBurger is." Steph waves it off. "And we aren't too far away- See?"

Peter does see. He sees the weirdest restaurant he's ever seen in his life. The outside looks like a blue and gray decommissioned Wendy's- wait, do they have Wendy's here?- and when they get inside, Peter thinks that he should have lied or ran away by now. It's sort of weird to see images of the vigilantes on the wall when they enter, mostly because Peter has met them of them up close.

Though, now that Peter thinks about it…

"Peter, you good?"

Peter looks back at Stephanie. Behind her is a picture of Spoiler in action, a bat shaped boomerang in her hand. Next to it, Red Robin jumping from a building.

"Yeah, I'm good." He smiles, but internally, his mind is racing.

Tim had looked familiar, but now that he thinks about it, it was more like the spider-sense he had gotten was familiar. Watching it had said, and Peter can't help but wonder. Why had it felt the same as to when Peter felt Red Robin watching him from afar? Just more prominent?

Stephanie lets go of his arm, patting his head and telling Duke, "You guys go ahead and sit down, I'll grab the food."

"What?" Duke frowns, glancing from the seats to the order station.

worry?

Peter agrees. Duke's brows are furrowed, and he glances at Steph's side and back up again at her.

"Let me grab it, Steph. You and Peter can go sit down." He insists. Stephanie looks like she wants to protest, but she doesn't get a word in. Duke walks up to the counter instead, already saying hello to the tired man wearing a cheap BatMan mask.

Stephanie sighs, watching Duke's back with narrowed eyes. Peter doesn't say anything, instead watching her reaction. She does look tired, because if Peter looks closely, he can see makeup under her eyes, as if covering eye bags. She briefly touches her side as she thinks, finally turning to Peter.

Her eyes widen when she notices Peter watching her, so he smiles politely at her, choosing to play innocent. Stephanie grins, taking his elbow and pulling him towards the booths. "Come on, Duke will get us."

"I feel bad making them pay for all of this."

"Don't, seriously. It's their duty as upperclassmen to treat the freshies kindly." Stephanie sits down in a pink booth. Peter sits next to her because she pulls him down to sit there.

Each booth is colored red, green, or pink, and each have a colored window with decorations on it, casting a faint glow over them. The pink booths have pink windows with "HA HA HA" decorated all over them. The green booths have question marks, and the red booths have orange windows with tally marks.

It's an odd choice that Peter doesn't hang onto for long. Instead, Peter asks, "What kind of after school job lets them cover $190 and then food?"

Stephanie grins, folding her hands over each other on the table and turning to face Peter a little more in the booth. "Their dad pays for everything."

"He must be rich."

"Very."

Peter can't say much about that. Tony paid for everything after taking Peter in- and before then, too. Oh, well, Peter doesn't mind stealing from the rich as much. Whoever their dad is, he can apparently afford to buy Peter his vigilante stuff.

"How old are you? You're so tiny, it's hard to believe you're a freshie." Stephanie has a teasing lilt to her voice, and Peter tries not to let it get to him. Everyone teases about his height.

"I'm 14." Peter tells her, so totally not offended right now. "How old are you?"

"Awww, you're so little! I'm 19- I graduated last year, but Timmy and Duke are still good friends of mine." Stephanie replies, glancing towards the counter. Duke is waiting for the food, and he shoots a peace sign at Steph that she returns with a middle finger.

When she turns back to their table she winces, attempting to play it off as another smile. Only this time, Peter can smell blood. Stephanie pulls her shirt away from her side, but it's too late. Peter can see dots of blood from her side, just under her ribcage.

Sort of in the same place Spoiler was stabbed.

Huh.

Peter doesn't point out the blood, but even if he was going to, he's interrupted. "Steph!"

"Timmy!" Steph leans her cheek on her hand as Tim drops into the booth. He scoots to sit in front of Stephanie, handing Peter his bag from the hardware store. "You took forever to get here. Getting slow in your old age or something?"

"It's not like you ran out on me or something." Tim complains. Peter drags his bag closer to him, checking the inside for everything before setting it down at his side. "What have you been torturing Peter with?"

"Nothing, I've just been educating him on BatBurger!"

"It's his first time coming here," Duke places their trays down, passing Peter a kid box shaped like Batman's mask, and then a proper meal of a cheeseburger and fries. Peter, wanting to get away before Stephanie murdered Tim (they're both making faces like this will become an issue), grabs two empty cups just as Duke does.

"What drink do you want, Stephanie?" Peter asks, snapping Stephanie out of her standoff with Tim. Her eyes soften at Peter.

"Oh, kid, you don't have to-"

"It's alright." Peter smiles. He doesn't know how badly Stephanie is injured, but it's enough to bleed and make her tired. She probably shouldn't be up and about.

Stephanie smiles as if this meant something to her. "A root beer, please."

"Can I get-"

"Diet Coke, yeah yeah," Duke waves Tim off. "Drinks are this way, Pete."

"Everyone hates me." Time proclaims. Peter chuckles at his dramatics, the older boy putting his head in his hands.

"I don't hate you, Coupon." Peter hurries to catch up to Duke before Tim can kill him for the nickname. But based on Stephanie's laughter, it had the desired effect.

There's something going on here that Peter isn't in on, and he has to push down his anxiety about it. Tim and Steph are friendly with each other and there's no hostility, but they're still arguing about something. He's able to pick up on it even though they think they're hiding it well. In Peter's third foster home, he gained the ability to see this sort of thing. The couple he was staying with were really nice to him, and had a decent sized apartment. Peter was the only kid there, he had his own room, and the teachers at his school were really nice to him. After what happened with his first and second foster homes, Peter craved stability of any kind.

So when the couple started having issues, Peter did what he could to keep it nice in the house. He joked, he played games, diverted their attention. They never outwardly fought in front of Peter, because they were both of the opinion that Peter shouldn't get dragged into it. He did a pretty good job for a while, mediating their silent arguments.

He'd ramble at the dinner table about his day and they'd ask him questions, never directly talking to each other. His rambling was the only reason dinners weren't a quiet affair, and they were grateful for it, because they would prompt him to start talking if things went still for too long.

But it didn't last long. He was only there for two months, and then they broke up. So Peter had to go to his fourth house.

But he learned from that experience. And now he has the ability to eavesdrop on conversations without anyone knowing he is. Peter strains his ears to listen to what Tim and Stephanie are talking about while he and Duke get the drinks. Unfortunately, there's enough people in the Batburger to make it difficult, the noise mixing together as the volume rises and lowers randomly.

"…shouldn't even be here," Tim is saying, and Stephanie scoffs.

"I can name at least fifteen hundred times you've done worse."

"That- I mean… not relevant."

Peter misses a bit of the sentence, but he thinks he gets the gist of it.

"I wanted to see him."

"But you …"

Peter can't hear the rest, and Tim cuts off the conversation as they make their way back. Stephanie pats his arm again as he sits down and hands her the drink. She's very touchy, and Peter doesn't know if it's normal or not to protest this. He hasn't had human contact in a while. But at least the touch doesn't burn. Stephanie feels safe.

Tim is sipping his drink with a sour pout, glaring at the table as if it had personally offended him.

Are they really mad at each other? Peter glances between the two, wondering what he can say to make them not fight. They are pretty set on acting as if they aren't, which Peter can work with.

He doesn't have to, he knows that. But it feels nice to have older kids around, feels like home. When he first went out onto the streets, the other, older homeless kids treated him nice. They always looked out for him, showed him places to hide, where to get food and water, and before he had his chicken coop, he stayed with them and they talked for hours in front of the fire together.

They're safer than adults. Kids, or just teenagers in general, are less likely to hand him over to an adult. Something about teens being against the Man or whatever. It's coded in their DNA.

He still goes to see them when he can, but a lot of them got into good houses because of Tony. The others refused his help, said they wanted to make it on their own. But they're always really happy for Peter. He's sort of missing them right now. Even if Stephanie and Tim are mad at each other, Peter is good at keeping people from fighting.

"Who'd you get?" Duke points to the Batbox with his fry.

Eager to distract, Peter digs into the box and pulls out the figurine at the bottom, unwrapping it from the black plastic. And he laughs at the figure he got, turning it in his hands to show it off.

"Red Hood? That one's rare." Tim raises a brow.

It looks nothing like the grumpy older vigilante. Well, it sort of does. It resembles him enough that it's clear who it is. It has his leather jacket and the black suits and pants. But his boots are shorter and brown, the bat symbol more orange than red, and the helmet is so wonky that Peter can only imagine it must have melted and then cooled off at some point during shipping.

He was sort of hoping to get this one, deep down. He's spoken to Red Hood more than once, and even knows of a good taco place because of him.

"It would have been cool if you got Spoiler," Stephanie gives a wistful sigh. "She's the best one, in my opinion. Don't you think, Peter?"

"Yeah, in your opinion. Everyone knows Nightwing is the best one. He always comes in the best quality and can actually stand up on his own." Tim's comment makes Stephanie roll her eyes. Peter's smile droops a little, a ball of nerves forming in his gut. He can't tell what's teasing and playful and what's got a secret message under it.

"We can order you more and you can tell us your favorite," Stephanie tells Peter, as if it's a secret plan. Tim shakes his head at this, going to protest, but Steph cuts him off. "And you'll see that Spoiler is the best one, not the others."

"He'll say Nightwing is better, because he is." Tim presses. Stephanie uses her hand as a puppet and mocks him.

"Duke, can you go get more?" Stephanie asks him, and Peter can feel the competition rising.

"No, he doesn't need to." Peter urges, and all eyes fall on him. "I like Red Hood."

The competition is gone in seconds. Tim breaks out into a grin so wide it should split his face. Duke's eyebrows raise up as if Peter had said something intriguing, and Stephanie bites down on her own smile, turning away from Peter to collect herself. Peter feels his face heat up, wondering why it's suddenly embarrassing to say out loud. Is it that funny?

"He's your favorite?" Tim asks, eagerly leaning forward.

"Y-Yeah, why?"

"Nothing, it's just cute, is all." Stephanie assures him, but all it does is make Peter feel more embarrassed. Cute? He doesn't want to be cute, he's not a little kid. "He doesn't get a lot of fans 'cause everyone thinks he's so… grumpy."

"I think he's cool…" Peter mutters, stuffing the offending Red Hood figure in his pocket. Stephanie giggles into her hand, and Peter's face feel like it might be redder than Red Hood's helmet.

He thinks they noticed he was going to die if they didn't stop laughing at him, because Tim quickly delves into another topic change as Duke gets on his phone, grinning to himself.

"Hey, Peter, you said your dad is an engineer? Where does he work?"

Oh, crap. Maybe Peter should have checked that before he went out and started blabbing about Tony. He didn't think that through at all. What does he say? 'Underground stuff you probably wouldn't know about it?' He'd sound like some schmuck on social media who thinks he can gate keep Green Day.

"Uh, I don't actually know. He doesn't talk about work with me."

"But he has his own lab, right?" Tim thankfully doesn't hang on to that little tidbit, and Peter nods. Whew, got out of that. "That's pretty cool, having someone to teach you all that stuff. Are you in the robotics club?"

"No, I'm not. I don't have the time." Peter thinks before answering- because he gets the question so often, it's only natural to reply with that.

"Busy body, huh? Me too. I wanted to join robotics, but there just wasn't enough time in the day." Tim wiggles a fry in the air. "If you get the time, I hear it's worth it. They go to a competition every year to fight robots."

"Sick," Peter sits up in his seat with excitement. He's always wanted to see a robot fight, because who doesn't want to see a robot fight? He and Uncle Ben used to talk about it all the time-

Oh.

A sudden wave of nausea hits Peter. Or maybe it isn't nausea, but some other emotion that doesn't have a name.

He doesn't know if it's a part of grief or not. He finds that grief comes in waves, but this emotion? It always hits him out of nowhere, with no pull back of the water that he can see coming. It's less like a wave, and more like an indiscriminate punch to the gut.

Peter suddenly feels small, thinking about the robot fight he and Ben never got to see. Because of Peter.

"Maybe I'll go to the competition and see." He keeps the smile on his face, but his voice is just a little quieter. No one seems to notice.

Focus, Peter. Not right now.

"Is that what you were getting from the hardware store? Robot parts?" Stephanie narrows her eyes at Tim, who slightly pales, a fry hanging from his lip.

"Well, uh-"

"We just started talking about it 'cause it's cool." Peter saves him, because if they ever run into each other again, he wants to see the success of a shoe-stealing robot. Though, has another motive to helping him out. It might be because of that punch to the gut that he just got, but Peter wants to latch onto anything else. Some other goal, that doesn't hurt as bad, so he can ignore what hurts the most. He chooses to focus on one thing: getting information.

"But what's cooler are alternate dimensions."

Is it maybe a stupid idea? Possibly.

Will it tell him something he wants to know? Hopefully.

Will it stop him reliving the bad memories? For now.

He's not clueless, even if he does miss a social cue once or twice.

Stephanie is injured in the same spot that Spoiler was stabbed. Not to mention that his spider-sense feels the exact same way as when Red Robin is watching him when Tim is watching him. Then there's Tim's heartbeat- a little erratic, nothing too concerning. Steady enough that it keeps him going, and although healthy, it has that familiar kick to it of someone who doesn't sleep right and lives off of energy drinks or coffee.

He's heard that same heartbeat from Red Robin stalking him for the past few weeks. Enough so that he could pick it out of a crowd if he tried. He thinks this is why his spider-sense felt familiar for Red Robin and Tim both- because they're the same person.

Heartbeats are like voices, if he listens close enough. All unique, even though they can sound the same. Peter knows why he pays so much attention to them, but he tells himself that it's because of his safety. He can never be surprised about who's coming near, because he already knows.

Stephanie and Tim are around the same ages as Spoiler and Red Robin, and they know each other pretty well. If they were vigilantes together, then maybe that accounts for why they're close. Plus, Peter can figure that if Red Robin was genuinely that curious about him, wouldn't he stalk Peter as a civilian at some point?

But he can't just say that. And he can't confirm it, either, not unless he wants to blatantly ask and risk being right or wrong. Both could turn out unwell for him. And they're in public, so that'd be dumb anyway.

What he can do is lay out the groundwork, though.

"Alternate dimensions?" Tim raises a brow, but he muses over the thought. "You believe in those?"

"Don't you?" Peter looks around the room, then back at them. "I think it's kind of neat. There's a dimension right now where I'm older than you guys, or a dimension where Duke is blonde and Stephanie has black hair."

"I mean, I guess they could be real." Tim ponders, frowning in thought. There's something behind it that Peter can't name, and Stephanie and Duke are suspiciously focused on their food all of a sudden. "It would be interesting to see. We'd need a particle accelerator to see if test that theory, and I doubt Gotham would sanction that. Batman would throw a fit."

You'd think one would need a particle accelerator. Peter misses when dimensional travel was all just theory to him.

"Isn't the theory about alternate dimensions that they're caused by the decisions we make?" Duke asks, biting into his burger, and then adding, "Like, each one makes a new universe, where you chose something else?"

"Yep." Peter nods. He's eating as he speaks, but trying to force himself to slow down. At every meal he feels like it's going to disappear from his plate, and he'll never eat again. "There are dimensions where you don't exist, because your parents never got together. Or because there was a different combination of the gene pool, or whatever."

"Huh," Tim taps the table with his fingers, lost in thought. "A Tim-less universe sounds boring."

"Or glorious, depending on who's thinking about it." Stephanie smirks into her food. Tim mocks her, flicking a fry in her direction.

"Or there are dimensions with completely different heroes." Peter continues, testing the waters. He keeps a close eye on how Tim and Stephanie react- and Duke, too, because isn't Signal around this guy's age? "Like, this Batburger could be a restaurant based around some guy called Antman instead. AntBurger doesn't sound as cool, if I'm being honest."

"I'd love to meet a guy called Antman, are you joking? What would his powers be?" Tim uses to fry as antennae, making his voice higher pitched and nasally. "I'm Antman, surrender or be brought to justice!"

"What would you do if you met someone from an alternate dimension though?" Peter asks, glancing up from his fries then back down again. "I'd ask a billion questions if I could, I'd wanna know everything that's different."

"I'd have a hard time believing them," Tim says, and Peter resists the urge to frown. "But if they could prove it, then I'd feel the same."

Peter doesn't know what he got from that answer. But he's satisfied with it, he guesses.

He wanted to know, just in case.

He's all alone in this universe, that he is fully aware of. It isn't uncommon to how he was before Tony, before the Avengers came into his life. Peter is used to sticking it alone, not really trusting anyone to get close and help him.

That's what the vigilantes are wanting. They want Peter to have faith in them, and he wants that too. But for Peter, who always had to be wary of adults, to suddenly give up control when he could get hurt? It's his worst nightmare. It literally took Peter months before he trusted Tony or Steve or any of his mentors to tell them his real name.

But Red Robin, and Spoiler, and Signal?

If these three are who Peter thinks they are, then they're not adults. They're other teenagers like him, who have been nice to Peter this whole time, and don't set off alarm bells in his head. Even though the vigilante adults don't do that, it's just easier to trust someone closer to his age.

If Tim is Red Robin, then Peter would have to really convince him that he's from an alternate dimension, somehow. Maybe Peter just not existing here is enough, in some way. Or if he has a counterpart somewhere, it could help his case. Though he can imagine there are other reasons for that happening too. Like Peter just not having an identity, or he's a secret evil twin.

What if they don't believe you?

They could. It's their job, they deal with things like this.

You're just a stupid kid, they just feel bad for you. That's all it is. Just wait until they find out about what you really are, they'll never trust you.

Peter wants to ignore that voice in his head that always tells him this. He's been stuck here as long as he has been because he's avoided getting help. That voice always hisses in his ear to remind him that one time we trusted an adult don't you remember do you really want that to happen again-

Peter suddenly feels sick, and sweaty, and like he needs to wash his hands.

This thought feels familiar, doesn't it, Peter?

What if they don't believe him?

Suddenly, this stupid BatBurger restaurant feels too hot and too cold all at the same time. Peter takes a sip of his drink to hide his nerves, the chattering from the other three feeling muffled. They started talking about time travel, and Peter wants to join in.

Because teenagers are safe. They feel safe.

So why does Peter feel so sick right now, and why does he feel so bad about not trusting them? Why does he feel guilty? Feel shame?

you should leave

"What time is it?" Peter squints at the windows, but he can't tell how long they've been there. He feels inclined to listen to the voice, already picking up his things to go. Stephanie's eyes feel like they're glued to his movements, but Peter pretends he can't tell.

She doesn't know.

?

What if she does? Does she see how weird Peter is getting? Peter feels weird. He feels like everyone can read his mind, all of a sudden. He would like to leave, but he also doesn't want to at all.

You don't know these people, why do you feel so-

safe here safe nice warm

trust is dangerous. don't be dumb.

Everything was just fine, why is he freaking out?

It's not his spider-sense that is bothering him. It's not even that these people might be the vigilantes. It's something Peter can't control, and the very idea of that is driving him crazy. He can't control this, he can't stop it, and he wants to be alone.

No he doesn't. He wants Tony and Pepper.

"Umm…" Duke checks his phone again, smiles at a notification, then replies, "1:20."

Peter doesn't quite meet their eye, but he does manage to keep a smile on his face. He stands up with his trash and his bag. His mouth feels like it's full of cotton, but he manages to say, "I gotta get going. I have work in a few."

"Work? You're 14, who hired you?" Stephanie points out.

worried

Some of the itchy, boiling feeling goes away. Stephanie's gaze is comforting, understanding. The type of understanding where she doesn't say it out loud.

see it?

There's a buzzing in his head that feels unrelated to any of the voices, any of his senses. It quiets when he focuses on them, but…

Peter is tired. Not just physically, but mentally.

He'll have to think about it later. About why he wants to trust them so bad, but when he tries, his voice gets caught in this throat and he can't breathe, and all he can imagine is

the last time the last time the last time.

"And I'll be late for my shift if I don't skedaddle." He shrugs, waving goodbye to them, walking backwards a couple steps and then turning around to hurry outside. "Nice meeting you guys. Bye Coupon."

Tim groans, Duke snickering at him. As Peter walks out of the restaurant, he can feel more than one pair of eyes on his back.

…watching…

It doesn't feel scary that they are.