lepoffaith Chapter 5, a what every girl except me knows fanfic

Duuuuke [11:12AM]: Jay

Duuuuke [11:13AM]: Jay

Jay [11:13AM]: do you want to die.

Jay [11:14AM]: asking because i think you genuinely want me to beat your ass

Duuuuke [11:14AM]: we took peter to batburger

Jay [11:15AM]: fucking and? why the fuck would i care

Jay [11:15AM]: i was sleeping you asshat

Duuuuke [11:15AM]: he got a red hood figure :)

Jay [11:16AM]: GET TO THE POINT IM FUCKING TIRED

Duuuuke [11:17AM]: we were like "let's get you more cause red hood is obvi not the best" (it's Signal, duh) and peter said he doesn't need another one cause red hood is his favorite!

Damian [11:17AM]: He clearly doesn't understand Todd's history if that is the case.

Duuuuke [11:17AM]: u just mad cause Peter didn't say Robin

Damian [11:18AM]: I haven't even met him, so no, I don't care.

Duuuuke [11:18AM]: sounds like you do

Damian [11:19AM]: For once I agree with Todd. Someone needs to beat your ass.

Duuuuke [11:19AM]: Bruce get your child he's threatening my person

Damian 11:20AM[]: Todd is awfully quiet.

Duuuuke [11:21AM]: holy shit u right

Duuuuke [11:21AM]: Jay

Duuuuke [11:121AM]: Jay

Duuuuke [11:22AM]: WOOOWWWWW everyone found THE Red Hood's weakness

Damian [11:22AM]: We already knew this information, so maybe get off your highest of horses, Thomas.

Duuuuke [11:23AM]: Bruce

Damian [11:24AM]: I know you have the intelligence of a five year old but you don't have to tattle like one.

Dicko [11:35AM]: Peter's favrite is WHO?

Dicko [11:35AM]: :((

Dicko [11:35AM]: this is the worst day ever

Duuuuke [11:37AM]: i dunno i think this is fucking great

Duuuuke [11:38AM]: Jay

Jay has left BATCHAT

Duuuuke has added Jay to BATCHAT

Duuuuke [11:39AM]: :)

"This is quite ridiculous, child." Loki, who, as Ned learned, is a God or an alien of some kind, rolls his eyes like a petulant teenager.

Ned wonders what would happen if he took up on the advice of the Avengers and actually left this part to one of them to handle.

The adults had offered several times to be a go between with him and Loki. It didn't take Ned very long to understand they don't trust this guy as far as they could throw him, and it's not like Loki does much to actually dispute that notion. When confronted by Steve after the first Fake-Peter fiasco, made an illusion of the room looking like the inside of a glacier.

He's heard all the stories that Peter could offer, and then stories that the Avengers themselves offered to him after Tony flipped the fuck out on Loki when he showed up a few days ago. Loki is a trickster, someone who plays for games, who likes a good story. If he came up out of the woodwork, none of them believe it was just to 'help.'

Natasha is here for when they think Ned inevitably backs out. Her eyes are as sharp as the knife she is spinning around her fingers, lying in wait for even the slightest slip up from the strange man.

She could definitely take over if Ned wanted. He could throw his hands up and say "My tummy hurts and I don't wanna" and she wouldn't even judge him for it. She'd give Loki the information he needs for this plan to work out, and figure out what Loki is up to, all without Ned's interference.

But also, this is the only part that Ned can be helpful for, in the search for Peter. He doesn't have magic, or super strength, or anything like that, so it's obvious that he will be doing jack-all to help his friend.

Talking? He can do talking. He's strangely good at blabbing away. He's a professional at this, been training since birth to never shut his mouth. He wants to do this, and he's not gonna give up just because Loki is difficult to work with.

"No one will be able to tell the difference." Loki gestures towards the chair next to him and Ned.

But he really makes it difficult.

The illusion of Peter is sitting with them, hands flat on the table and watching Ned for the most part. And when he's not watching Ned, the illusion will look around the room with the same curious glances that Peter has, like he's lost in thought. When he grins, the illusion has the same dimples that Ned knows. If Tony hadn't noticed that this was an illusion, Ned might not have noticed for a while.

(That feels so terrible to admit, so Ned only thinks it.)

"Ned, are we done yet? I wanna finish setting up that Avengers Tower set that we got." Illusion asks, and Ned tries not to let his sour expression show, because that's definitely what Loki wants. When Illusion says stuff like that, it sounds far too much like Peter, and that bothers Ned immensely. Loki knows this.

That's also a problem that feels icky to Ned.

Because how does Loki know so much about Peter and him? Did he check Peter's room before making up this sick little plan of his? Does he know all of the Lego sets they've been making together? It's unsettling to imagine that this man god alien guy knows so much about them, or their personal lives, without anyone telling him about it. All because he clearly has something to gain from offering to help them.

(What the hell does he want? Well, it's not like Ned would know. Evidence: He's a 14 year old normal human kid that just so happens to be friends with Spider-Man. He is not gonna figure out the whims of the man god alien guy.)

"Can you please stop right now?" Ned snaps, his frustration making him sound harsher than he meant it to be.

Loki stares at him for a moment, likely debating blasting Ned into a thousand pieces or leaving him alive. Ned prepares himself to become a nothingness that was once himself when the Illusion Peter clears away, leaving behind an empty seat.

Ned lets out a tiny sigh of relief and takes this as a win. Loki leans forward to rest his elbows on the table, and the god sets his chin on his intertwined fingers, observing Ned much the way a grandmaster would observe a chess piece.

"You do not feel like griping about how I portray the spider?"

"I have a lot of gripes about that, but I'm choosing to focus on the bigger picture." Ned replies, squinting at Loki. A ball of nerves has bundled its way through Ned, and his body feels like it's buzzing. Don't be stupid don't be stupid don't be stupid- "Which is our school schedule, his personal schedule, and everything you need to know about our classmates."

"Right, well, I am sure you mean well, as all of you human goody-two-shoes buffoons, but I hardly imagine that the day-to-day life of a high school human will be difficult for someone of my caliber to manage." Loki practically hums with amusement.

It's like Ned can see it written on his face: silly, stupid human child. It feels like when people laugh at small dogs when they bark at them.

And ugh, okay, the that same sentiment coming from adults who know next to nothing about modern schooling is one thing, but it sounded so obnoxious coming from this guy's mouth in the same way it annoys Ned to hear British people talk about American schooling or food.

Yeah, most people assume that a high school kid has nothing on their plates that require the amount of stress that they go through. But most people are forgetting that modern schooling is requiring students to keep up with so many different subjects and extracurricular that the average teenager isn't getting enough sleep. They just assume that everything is just like back when they were going to school, but the standards are different now.

And also, they aren't Peter Parker or Ned Leeds.

"Peter doesn't just go to school and come back home, dude." Ned contains a rude retort, then attempts to remember his manners. "I mean… sir. Not dude. I definitely didn't mean 'dude.'"

Loki might be the jerk that pulled a mean prank on Tony and him, but he's also a super powerful guy who has killed hundreds of people. It would be bad to get on his nerves.

"That certainly sounds like what he does." Loki retorts. Ned catches Natasha's blatantly smug smile that she doesn't bother hiding behind her cup. Ned takes a deep breath.

"To start with, Peter's school schedule has a wide load. He missed out on a lot of school before," Ned's use of 'before' makes Loki's eyebrows raise and Ned hopes that doesn't mean anything. "-so he wanted to make the most out of what is offered at Midtown. He tested into a couple junior-year classes and he has several clubs and after school programs that he does."

"Again, I doubt that I wouldn't-"

"He tested into AP Calc BC and Ap Chem and he takes those two without me, first thing in the morning. Then he takes Intro to Computer Science, English, World History, Spanish, and P.E. with me."

"You are in a lot of his classes." Loki points out.

"Mr. Stark gave a donation to the school." Ned answers flippantly. The 'why' is not important right now, just that they do take classes together. "Every day after school we both are in the Academic Decathlon club and Study Group, except Peter goes to BioChem Club on Friday afternoons instead. On Wednesdays after Academic Decathlon, he goes to some of his old hangouts to check on and talk to people he knows. They've already noticed he's not been around these past couple weeks, Biggie caught me on my way home and I told him that Peter was out sick."

"…Biggie?" Is all Loki seems to have glimmered from that info drop. "The man's name is Biggie?"

"It's a nickname, first of all. Second of all, it's not even that weird of a nickname. Third of all, not the point, dude- Sir."

"Apologies," Loki says with his hands up in mock surrender, clearly not sorry at all. "I will hand it to you that the spider has a lot more on his plate than I initially thought he would."

Oh, he's definitely placating Ned. He's heard that tone from his teachers before and long distance relatives that he meets once every five years. Ned feels a dig and he really wants to know what Loki would gain from dealing with Ned.

But screw it, it's another win.

"Yeah, he does, which means you can't do anything that would mess this up for him." Ned feels a wave of ill wash over him as he tries to keep up his confident Don't Mess With Me composure that he was advised to have.

This is a guy who gave the Avengers hell not all that long ago. He's still not trusted, the only one that really holds out hope for him is Thor. Tony and everyone else are quite sure that he's here to cause them trouble, and Natasha is operating under the idea that Loki is involved in all of this somehow.

Ned truly hopes that isn't the case. Because that would mean that Loki is an enemy again, and that Peter got caught up in something bigger than he thought. But Ned doesn't know what Loki would want with Tony's company- and he's sure that mostly everyone knows that Pepper has the control over pretty much everything, as the CEO. Loki seems the type to have figured out that much.

It's a big shot that he's talking to, and Ned is just some 14 year old dweeb who's trying not to puke his guts out onto the very expensive table in one of the secure meeting rooms in the Tower.

"If you do anything that would cost Peter later, I'll make sure you regret it." Ned tries his best to glare the god down. Because no one, not even a god, is going to ruin the life that his best buddy has just been able to get.

Loki's lips twitch up into a smile that Ned can't read the intention of. Natasha sets her cup down with a nod at Ned, observing Loki's reaction out of the corner of her eye. The knife stills in her hand, and the shine from the blade reflects across the table at Loki. Ned gulps, leaning back in his seat under the pressure.

"Is that what you think of me?" Loki asks Ned. "No doubt you heard all from the Avengers that I am a detestable, no good villain. Am I right?"

"I don't know what to believe. But actions speak louder than intentions." Ned bites his tongue on accident, winces, and tries to play it off. "I mean, you haven't really given anyone a reason as to why you'd be generous like this in the first place."

"I believe that I said I came here with the intention to help. To offer my much needed assistance with a problem that you all could not handle without me. If I hadn't shown up, would it not be Stark that cost Peter?"

The knife slams into the metal table with a Screech! Ned flinches, eyes widening when he sees Natasha stabbed it through to the hilt, like the table was made out of butter.

"Make your point, Loki." Natasha warns lowly, too calm for the action. Loki clicks his tongue, unfazed.

"I am merely pointing out to the spawn that Stark is the reason that the spider is in this mess, is he not?" Loki replies to her, but keeps his eyes on Ned. He lowers his hands onto the table, leaning forward like a snake eyeing a mouse. "I am helping with that problem. Why would I 'mess' with the spider's life?"

Natasha replies with a short scoff. "Are we forgetting that you live to make everyone else's lives more complicated for your own amusement?"

"I am not that selfish. I at least make it just as entertaining for everyone else as well."

"That's what I'm talking about." Natasha sits up, elbow on the table. Her gaze has hardened, stance set towards Loki and crossing in front of Ned. This stance draws Loki's attention away from Ned and towards her, and his amusement has pulled back. "We all know that you're up to something. Don't think that you can trick us play playing oblivious. You make one wrong move, and your chance to be an ally is stripped away from you. For good. No matter what your brother says."

"I highly doubt it, but I suppose I will ease your worries despite that." Loki narrows his eyes as he falls back in his chair, swinging an arm over the back. He's as relaxed about Natasha's threat as a king on his throne.

"…You're not gonna do anything?" Ned asks, a hesitant breath rather than a real question.

The man's eyes always hold someone like he knows a secret about them that even they don't know. "I am merely here to watch the story unfold and offer my help."

Ned takes a moment to feel if this is a lie or not. He doesn't believe a word out of the man's mouth, being honest with himself. Not after being told of his history, and actually meeting and talking to him in person.

He rubs his hands together nervously, wondering why they feel like the skin under his palms are buzzing. The anxiety usually settles on his stomach or his chest. Trying to shake the feeling away, he decides that all he can do at the moment is trust Loki, but more importantly: trust that if he tries anything, the Avengers will prevent it from getting too far.

Everything is going to be alright. When Peter gets back, he'll see that his life is waiting for him, and Ned will be satisfied to know that he had a role in making that happen.

"Alright, fine." Ned says, and Natasha settles back into her seat. Ned decides to do what he does best: gossip. "Now, I'll have to tell you about our classmates. Starting with the most annoying: Flash Thompson. He's got some kind of academic rivalry with Peter, but I think it's stemming from deep rooted daddy issues-"

There is a snake in the garden.

Tony's first lesson on religion had been the reason he never got started with it in the first place, but religious imagery always manages to bring about the exact dramatic vibe that he goes for. There is something poetic about the snake and the Garden of Eden- something tragic, really. Ever since he was a young boy, Tony had sympathized with Eve.

Eve had lived her entire life not knowing of a lie, and God punished her for an ignorance that was his fault to correct. God said that he makes no mistakes, as do his people. But if he does not make mistakes, then what does he call his failures? Is it not left to the parent, the father, to teach his children? Or was it because Eve was a woman, she did not count as his child?

Not to say that he relates to her story. He just finds it ridiculous that Eve was punished for her father's sins, all because of a snake.

Tony's been told that he has a God complex. But in his mind, he will always be better than God. He can recognize his failures and move past them once and for all, he can be a better man and will always have that choice. He can teach his son, and he will wring that snake's neck.

If it isn't obvious, there's this thing that Tony has been pissed about, that covers up most of his inward panic and all encompassing fear: This guy that took Peter is a fucking idiot.

(It wouldn't have been better for him if the man had been clever, but it really digs into his skin.)

There was a huge, glaring, obvious clue that stuck out right in Tony's face the second time that rat bastard made his way back (for reasons that Tony doesn't know yet, but he will find out even if it kills him). Besides the fact that the dimwit keeps crawling back into New York as if wanting them to attack him, whenever the moron makes one of those bigger teleportational jumps, he causes a temporary blackout wherever he appears or leaves from.

It's not even hard to follow these black outs, either. Tony ended up making a map of the blackouts, down to the exact millisecond that they happen. Through FRIDAY's program, Tony was able to pinpoint a short pattern to his bigger jumps: they happen every three days, approximately. And because Tony is pissed, smart, and impatient, he came up with an algorithm to predict the jumps, along with a city-wide detection device.

What Tony is doing is called "laying down his traps to catch the pest in the garden." It's the best use of his time, rather than listening to that damned Loki speak as if this is all a game. If he stays still too long, he'll start thinking of ways to murder the tricky bitch once and for all.

(There might be two snakes in the garden. All Tony knows is that when he saw that fake Peter, one that called him 'Dad' with no hesitation, Tony wanted to grab the nearest sharp object and find out if Loki had a heart by carving his chest open.

Alas, there was a child nearby. Which is the only reason that hadn't ended far more terribly.)

He had kept this from Ned, but by now, Tony has learned the snake's name. They just had to comb through some illegally obtained surveillance videos and the video from Tony's suit, run it through facial recognition- and viola, there they go. He just hates using it, because anything along the lines of 'idiot' is all that he deserves. But it's important for Tony to remember it, to study every detail of how they managed to let this slip through the cracks.

He'd read the file they compiled on this man front to back several times since they got it. He knows as much as he possibly can about 'Dr. Jonathon Ohnn.'

Ohnn had once been a frail, unimportant, background character kind of a man that worked at Alchemax under Doctor Octavius. He wasn't even a villain-of-the-week type that Peter usually has for his villains. He's insignificant, a face and name that is easily forgotten. The research facility is located on a private campus in Hudson Valley, where they research multidimensional travel, among other theories. Tony had only heard of them in passing, as Doctor Octavius hadn't shown his face in public for years.

From what he gathered, everything was going fine for a few years. However, when Tony made his way into their private servers and obtained their files not at all legally, he got to see exactly when Ohnn began exhibiting signs that he was "unstable and unfit for collaborative work."

Octavius had mentioned in said files that Ohnn was "growing far too secretive with his work and his theories, and growing paranoid that others were trying to steal credit from him." He was let go after an incident where he suggested that there was favoritism in the facility, and he broke down in a board meeting. Said details of what happened there were not listed, even though everything else in the file was very meticulously recorded.

It should have ended there.

There was an entire year where Ohnn struggled to get a job because of this incident: his reputation was shot dead. No one wanted to work with someone that wasn't going to play as a team- unless, of course, they were brilliant. Charming, in a way. Even though he was brilliant, he failed to see the danger, and he had a bit of a temper.

That's how it's been. Until two years ago, when he managed to snag a job at Oscorp.

Tony wishes Peter would talk about the day he was bitten by that spider and how it happened. He wants to find a way to get Peter some sort of retribution for what had happened without selling out that Peter is Spider-Man. But all that he could get out of Peter was that he had gone to visit his father's old work friend, and he was bitten by the spider when he was there.

The work friend had been Dr. Curtis Connors, an expert geneticist like Peter's father had been. The two of them had worked together for years, until one day, Peter's parents took an unexpected trip to a convention in Europe, and they died, along with all of the research that Peter's father, Richard Parker, had.

As far as he can tell, Dr. Connors is still researching cross-species genetics, and hasn't contacted Peter since that day Peter went to visit him.

Now, here's the thing.

If a spider managed to get out and bite Peter, turning him into a spider-mutant, and then Ohnn -who was a regular human two years ago, and whom disappeared off the face of the Earth only two months after Peter himself was bit- resurfaces years later with a snake mutation…

It doesn't leave much to ponder, now does it?

Whether it was a purposeful change or another accident like Peter remains to be seen. But now it's evident that they've all crossed paths before in some way or another.

All things he could have told the kid that's waiting for Peter to come home, but as much as he knows that clarity is key, he doesn't want to involve another kid in this. Ned isn't like Peter- he's a normal kid- no, not like… See, Peter won't ever get the chance to be a normal, normal kid, hence why he gets to put on that suit and go gallivanting around to save people.

Ned, however, has nothing- no mutations, no soldier serums, no war suits, no magic. He's a regular damn kid who's something of a little genius like Peter is, and he won't be getting his start in being a hero any time soon, not under Tony's watch.

Tony knows far more than he let Ned in on. They all do. They know Dr. Jonathan Ohnn was given a snake mutation, they know he's a disgraced scientist, they know he is the man that snatched Peter. And they know that everything he worked on in the past is the reason that they couldn't find Peter here.

That's because Peter isn't here.

Ohnn's work at Alchemax was a level above the multidimensional travel they were attempting to achieve using the particle accelerator. He was wanting to take their work with the super collider and apply all of that theory into a piece of tech that he could put on his wrist. His damn wrist.

The moron could have gotten his hands on a sling ring and be done with it, but no. He had to do this the hard way.

And the asshole managed it. He figured it out.

Here's the thing about a particle collider: It's not a tech that can just be slapped onto someone's wrist. Take the LHC collider, for example. It's a 27 kilometers long ring of superconducting magnets, and has a number of accelerating structures that boost the energy of the particles. It has two high energy beams that travel at the speed of light, traveling opposite directions in separate beam pipes, then are made to collide. The magnets have to be chilled at -271.3 degrees Celsius. That's colder than outer space. The magnets used are 1232 dipole and 392 quadruple mag.

That's English for "Can't be slapped on a wrist and opening up portals to other dimensions without serious adverse consequences to the body, mind, and the world."

It would be damn impressive if it wasn't for the fact that it had been used to kidnap a literal child and to threaten Tony, his family, and all of his employees and their families across the globe. Tony doesn't know when he figured it out, but he has an idea that it happened right before or after his disappearance, when he was bitten by the snake mutation.

Of course Peter gets kidnapped and thrown into an alternate dimension during the time where every magic user that Tony and the others know are busy with their own hell being raised. Of course Loki can't actually be helpful and go find Peter and bring him back- of course that would end up with Peter fried alive because humans aren't meant to travel dimensions the way Loki is able to.

(This is why he hates magic. The users and the spells themselves never pull through when you need it to. No, you have to believe in it for it to give you fucking anything worthwhile. And it's such bullshit. Science? It can't let you down. Every time it fails, that's on the person applying it, they have to figure it out.

Science isn't fickle. It has rules and it doesn't rely on feelings.)

But there's another problem- Loki's method could burn a human into nothing. Ohnn's method is much the same.

Ohnn's teleportation and multidimensional jumps are literally burning him alive. That is why Ohnn takes those days in between jumps: his body needs to recover, or he'll remain ash because he ripped his body apart molecule by molecule in an unstable collision. He has the regenerative abilities that Peter does, but it still hurts him.

(Peter turned to ash just like that, right in front of his face. It must have hurt. Peter told him it hurt. Tony couldn't do anything about it-)

It all just manages to piss him off. To know that Peter is out there somewhere, more than likely captured- No.

No, Tony knows Peter well at this point. Peter is a tricky kid. There's been no evidence to support that they still have Peter, and that tracks. Not only had Peter almost managed to get out the first time he had been kidnapped, -

(When Tony got to Peter and that lab, Tony had torn the roof up in order to get to the lower levels faster. When he burst through the rubble, he had found Peter clawing away at his own skin, the metal restraints, and the table itself, almost able to get out.)

-he had also been trained by Natasha to utilize his abilities to get out of their hold. And if that didn't work, he would manage to get out another way. So Peter is probably homeless again, unless he got lucky and ended up in a universe where someone is able to take care of him. He's all alone, trying to get back home, trying to survive. Like he had been before they found him.

This wouldn't have happened if Tony had been faster. Or if Tony had been prepared for someone coming up with an idea like this. Or if Ohnn hadn't…

No, Tony can't place the blame on him alone.

Ohnn did not come up with this idea.

The cracked scientist was described as 'irrational' more times of his life than he was described as a genius. And on the day of his disappearance, witnesses claimed that he was talking to the air around him as if someone else was there. From the camera footage and from the mandatory therapy notes that Tony got his hands on, everything points to Ohnn not having the mindset to create a plan like this on his own.

The thing is, the man isn't focused at all on Tony. Tony himself has never met him (Tony also looked into seeing if he indirectly or directly screwed this guy's life up somehow, but there was nothing), and instead of making a beeline for Stark Industries or trying to confront them directly, he slips away and find somewhere to hide.

There's also the fact that Ohnn hadn't been in this dimension when the ransom demand was sent to Tony.

Tony had followed that message all too easily, tracking it down to being sent from a computer in a storage unit not that far away from where Peter grew up with Ben and May. When Tony got there and they forced the unit open, it had been empty. Empty, save for a fold out chair and a note that said "Better luck next time." in a printed out font.

(He remembers throwing the chair against the wall and Rhodey forcing him to sit down. But nothing else until he was home, sitting on his bed, and Pepper was resting her head on his shoulder as they both stared out the window.)

Someone is behind Ohnn, pulling the strings, and they are far more capable of sound reasoning that the man who has a lightning quick temper. Who is it, and what do they want with Stark Industries?

Tony knows that there are a lot of reasons to want the company and access to it, but he specifically needs to know what this person wants. It'll tell Tony what he needs to destroy, so that no one can get their hands on it. It might even lead him back to the person that wants Stark Industries in the first place- there's plenty of people that have been wronged in Tony's past by Tony himself, seeking revenge. Depending on the branch, it might even be someone Tony employed.

It's a question he needs answered, and this simpleton is going to give him that answer.

Tony knows it's going to happen, there's no doubt about it. Teleportation doesn't stand a chance against the simple laws of physics.

"All set, Capsicle?" Tony tries for a light jaunt, but all he can feel under his skin is a burning anticipation and rage. It thrums with his pulse, every breath he takes rising up with an eagerness to burn someone down to dust.

"Would appreciate if you dropped the 'sicle' already, but yeah. I'm ready." Cap huffs in his comms. Rogers is a block over, keeping his overtly polite eye on that area, like he had been for the last fifteen minutes as they prepared for Ohnn's arrival. The algorithm ticks down on the timer in the corner of Tony's eye, taunting him and making the itch to fight worse.

Tony had wanted to do this part himself. However, he was saddled with a babysitter, one that everyone was sure would stop him if Tony took things "too far" with the man that they have to interrogate once they get their hands on him.

As if Tony would let this blockhead die on him before he forced the man to spill his cowardly guts about where he took Tony's kid. He'll have plenty of time to talk about what the big plan is, because Tony is going to make sure that they drag it all out. He wants to know every single detail that this nimrod has, and Tony will repay the favor with his own 45 step plan on reducing him to nothing but ash that stays that way- ash, forgotten in the wind.

"I'll drop the scicle when your backstory changes." Tony replies shortly. "FRIDAY, what are you reading?"

"I scanned the atmospheric radius of the approximated zone of arrival. Readings indicate there is an abnormal electromagnetic fluctuation within the vicinity, Boss. However, there is a peculiar quantum signature emanating from the center of the radius."

Tony clicks his teeth, crouching down on the ledge of the rooftop. New York blinks back up at him, and Tony has to admit that all he can think about is the way Peter would describe it.

"So he's about here, then." Tony huffs as he reads his screen. There's quantum entanglement patterns that suggest a disruption in space-time. It's disappointing that they hadn't known to detect something like this until it was too late, but Tony is incredibly prepared now to make up for the mistake.

"You're sure you've got this?" Cap tries. Tony's almost forgets to pay attention to him, too busy watching the timer counting down to Ohnn's arrival.

2:18, 2:17, 2:16..

"What are you trying to say?"

"Don't start with that." Cap huffs. "I'm just saying that you're gonna need your head in the game-"

"Don't start quoting fucking High School Musical at me, Rogers. I'm not the one getting distracted here. Don't talk and keep an eye out for the bastard at the same time, it's improper manners."

"First of all, I didn't mean to quote High School Musical."

"Sounded like you did."

"Second of all, I'm not saying you're distracted. I'm saying that this is pretty emotional, and when you get emotional-"

"When I get emotional? Are we forgetting who got so heated during Uno?"

"That game creates monsters, and you're trying to throw me off."

"What? I would never." Tony sits up straighter. 1:47, 1:46…

"You're twisting my words around, too. I'm not saying that this is something you do, specifically, nor am I saying that-"

"Blah blah blah blah blah, Rogers, do you ever stop trying to get on my nerves?"

"Do you ever want to actually face your problems?"

"No, I'd prefer to pay it off or punch it."

Steve lets out a weary sigh of a man that is much older than he actually is. "Tony, be real for five seconds."

"Or you could shut up and focus." 1:26, 1:25

"I am focused. I'm trying to get Peter back too, Tony. You're not doing this alone, and you're not the only one that cares about him."

"Excuse me?" Tony stands up even though Steve can't see him from a block over. "Last I checked, you're not the one that's on his paperwork, his legal guardian-"

"I train with him-"

"A teacher!"

"But I also show up to his science fair and I see him nearly every day, when we're not out doing missions." Steve presses on. "That's what I'm trying to say, Tony. I get that you see him as your son, but I see him as a nephew."

"Don't imply you're like a brother to me." Tony tries to sound offended, but it comes out more like he's been strangled underwater.

"I implied I'm like a brother to Potts. Figures you'd assume that it's all about you." Steve replies, but there's little bite to it. Tony shakes his head, disturbed that the man actually made a funny comment. It's the worst when that happens.

54, 53…

"Got less than a minute." Tony interrupts the banter.

"You swear you're good?"

"Yeah, whatever. You act like I'd do something stupid when Peter is on the line."

"Not what I meant."

44, 43… 39, 38…

They fall into silence as the seconds tick down. FRIDAY is the only one who speaks, stating, "Detecting inter-dimensional wavelengths, Boss. He's approaching fast. Adjusting time limit."

The clock jumps from 32 seconds to 20. Tony flexes his fist, crouching low into a runner's stance and bracing his feet against the wall. His screen centers a target around the empty street below, the suit blasters whirring to life. Thank Whatever that it's nearing 1AM in a quieter neighborhood.

"10 seconds." FRIDAY informs him.

9, 8… 5, 4, 3-

The streets lights flicker on and off, one of them bursting. The shattered glass falls to the street below as the entire street goes dark, including inside the buildings. There's a humming in the air, and built up pressure that makes alerts go off in Tony's suit.

2, 1.

As soon as Ohnn appears in a flash of white and orange light, Tony is on him.

He jumps down from the sky and a laser beam strikes the air where Ohnn just was. Ohnn had slithered backwards in a flash, hitting his back on a dumpster. When Tony lands on the ground, Ohnn's tech teleports him behind Tony and out into the street, screeching out:

"You gotta be quicker than that!"

"Smart mouthing me isn't going to be nearly as fun as you think it is." Tony flies up higher, shooting down at Ohnn with the high energy unibeam from his chest. Ohnn twists around to avoid it, and Tony manages to corral him towards-

Steve drops down behind Ohnn on top of a car, the thud so loud that it dents the hood and the car alarms ring out. Someone screeches from a balcony that that's their car, but Steve ignores and bull rushes towards Ohnn.

The snake reacts too quickly. He drops down onto the ground and strikes at Steve's legs, rolling forwards when Steve jumps to avoid the strike. Tony lands in front of him, but Steve swings back with a kick to Ohnn's head.

The snake grunts, his head snapping to the side awkwardly. He spins around and drops to the ground. Tony reaches down and grabs the snake's head, flying upwards as the snake-

"Oh, god, that is disgusting-"

His arms wrap naturally around Tony's arm, attempting to bend Tony's arm backwards and the elbow. Tony throws him against a brick wall, scraping his face alongside the brick. Blood smears on the wall and when Ohnn's grip lessens, Tony pulls back.

Ohnn's mouth is a bloody mess, the flesh of his cheek and eyebrow pulled backwards. Tony slams his head again, and again, and again-

"Tony, stop!"

He freezes for a moment, hissing when Ohnn cackles in his face. The blood dribbles down his chin and he reaches out with his claws at Tony's neck, trying to bend the metal with his grip. For a moment, he considers not stopping, but this waste of life is the only real way Tony could get the answers he needs. Infuriated, Tony kicks him down, the snake grappling to catch himself on a balcony. Tony yanks him off when he almost gets to the top, and he hits the concrete next to Steve.

"I thought you said you could handle this!"

"He's alive, isn't he? That's more than enough. For now." Tony lands on the ground next to him.

Ohnn groans, his arm bent in the wrong way at the shoulder. He's shaking, and for a blissful second, Tony thinks he's giving up. But the snake turns his head backwards, too inhuman, to look at them over his shoulder.

"Funny, isn' i'?" Ohnn slurs, wiping his mouth with one hand. The blood doesn't stop pouring down his chin and neck, a mottled mess from the brick. "You star' payin' attention when the Parkers' brat goes missin'."

"The hell is that supposed to mean, huh?" Tony steps forward, fisting Ohnn's collar and dragging him up. Ohnn's face is still split into a smile. "What was all this for? Who are you working for?"

"I tried to tell everyone before," Ohnn grabs at Tony's wrist, a maniacal gleam in his eyes. "I was right. But no one wanted to listen. Well, now you're listening. Now you see me. Us."

"Who are you working for?" Tony repeats. Steve touches his shoulder, pulling him back from Ohnn. When the snake hits the ground, Steve presses his foot down on the man's chest to keep him down.

"Calm down, Tony." Steve's words do nothing to actually calm him down, and the enraged monster in him rears it's head.

"Don't tell me to calm down-"

The lights turn back on in the street.

Or at least, that's what they thought happened, at first.

However, the light only increases, and when Tony looks up, the street lamps, the buildings- they're all falling away. Steve shields his eyes from the light as FRIDAY darkens Tony's visor. Underneath Steve's foot, Ohnn's image slips into nothing but smoke, and Steve's foot hits the white ground.

"What the hell is going on?" Tony turns in a circle. FRIDAY's voice is muffled in his ear, glitching out and skipping like a broken record. D-D-D-Don't- Panic- B-Boss-Boss-Boss-

Just as fast as the white light had surrounded them, the light disappears. They're back in the street, and when Tony looks around for who might have caused this-

Ohnn is gone.

There's a puddle of his blood on the sidewalk, but no sign of the man nearby.

That had to have been an illusion- Ohnn had turned into smoke, much like- that fake Peter had, when Loki had shown up. Tony seethes, barely able to hold back his anger as Steve rubs his eyes free of the light. "FRIDAY, scan the area right now. Where did he take off? Is there someone else nearby?"

"Scans indicate that no new life forms entered the area, and only Ohnn left."

"So he's still around, then-"

"However," FRIDAY continues. "There had been unidentified drones deployed above. They had approached and attacked quick enough to disable my ability to talk to you, then created that light. Ohnn was able to escape."

"Drones?" Tony echoes. That… That is unexpected.

If that was an illusion, wouldn't that have been from Loki? He's the only one Tony knows of nearby that could do magic like that. But if it wasn't magic, but rather technology… It does line up with the fact that someone had sent the ransom over a secure line. Sure, Tony had hacked it eventually, but they had been smart enough to send the code not from their own base, but from that storage unit.

Loki isn't tech reliant, he prefers to cast his own magic. But then, who had been in control of those drones?

"Where did the drones take off to?"

"They cloaked and exited range. I was unable to track them down, but I was able to pick up the direction where they had come from: Oscorp Tower in the Manhattan area."

"Isn't Oscorp somehow involved in how Ohnn and Peter both got their abilities?" Steve is blinking hard- the light must have been brighter than Tony had been able to see, considering he had a darkened visor.

"It is. That's also where Dr. Connors worked." Tony's jaw clenches. "He knew Peter's father and he worked with Ohnn for a while. FRIDAY, scan Capscicle here for injuries."

"Temporary eye strain from the light. He needs to rest his eyes for a little while and he'll be right as rain." FRIDAY replies.

"Good. Now call Natasha and let her know to cut off Ned and Loki. Loki is running an errand for us. He wants to be useful, then we're going to let him be."

Peter made the mistake of trying to sleep.

It wasn't a bad dream. Not really.

He thought it would be a good idea to clear his mind and get some rest before his patrol that night. His mind was being fucking stupid and his body was too, acting like it couldn't tell the difference between being chased by a starving bear and having fun eating somewhere with new (friends?) acquaintances. So he laid on his bed and stared at the ceiling with the lights off, watching as afternoon sunk into evening. And he recalled a memory he hadn't though about in a long time.

When he was five years old, he had been laying on the rug in the Parker's living room, his hand raised in the air and watching the fan blades spin around. The sunlight from the window would dance with each turn, and he could hear Aunt May giggling. The soft fuzz of music from the kitchen and the smell of dinner made Peter sit up on his elbows, smiling when he saw Uncle Ben dancing with her.

Sometimes they would have their own little world, just the two of them. Peter could look in as an outside observer, seeing the precious moments like this. Dancing, singing, laughing, all of it so full of love that Peter equated it to watching a movie.

This time, however, Peter's chest had hurt so badly.

He knew he was happy. He knew that Uncle Ben and Aunt May were happy.

So why was he also sad?

Being sad would confuse him, would make his head feel fuzzy, disconnected from the world around him. He sat there and watched them in their own little world, and wondered what their life would be like if Peter hadn't been pushed into it.

Oh. Peter had thought, watching Ben spin May, forgetting about stirring the noodles in the pot, and the two of them panicking when it boiled over. But May was laughing, because she's always such a lively person.

His chest hurt because he felt guilty.

Peter didn't remember much about his parents. They were gone often enough that Uncle Ben and Aunt May would take care of him for months at a time, sometimes. But Peter would always sit at the window and wait for them to pick him up when they got back.

And Peter thinks of the last time they returned, the last day he spent with them, and everything was fuzzy. He knows his dad had picked him up and lifted him into the air, had kissed his cheek and Peter had laughed and laughed and laughed. He knew his mom read him bed time stories, and she would do silly voices.

But not their faces. Not the stories they would tell, not what the silly voices sounded like. When Peter tried really hard to think about it, he'd just see something fuzzy.

Guilt hit him hard. He's so happy with Uncle Ben and Aunt May, that he can't remember his parents.

And then he's guilty, because he parents would leave him here and in Ben and May's world. They never asked for him, but they took care of him. So why had he been sitting by the window, waiting for these strangers to come home?

He's guilty because he's sad. He's sad because he's happy. It all just goes round and round, like the ceiling fan.

That was the last thought he had before he fell asleep, and that's where his mistake bit him in the ass. Because he dreamed about Ben and May, he dreamed about his first foster family. He dreamed about Neri.

The names and faces swam in Peter's mind, an amalgamation of memories that didn't make sense. In the first dream, Peter and Ben were riding a boat, the cold wind in Peter's hair and making their noses and ears grow red. But they were smiling so wide, facing the wind and watching the skyline pass by. The sky was orange and red and so colorful Peter didn't want to look away.

But he did. He turned to tell Ben that this was such a good day, and he's so happy that they got to go together. But then Peter remembered that this had never happened.

"What's wrong, bud?" Ben cupped his cheek, his smile fading. "It's your birthday, you aren't supposed to frown."

Peter couldn't ask. He didn't want to know how Ben was at his 11th birthday with him like they planned to be, because he had died when Peter was 10. The Ben that's in front of him has no bullet holes in his chest, and Peter isn't hiding under his coat, trying to stop the blood.

"Ben, where do you go when you die?"

Ben had never been religious, he thinks. They never went to church of anything, but he wouldn't stop Peter from finding religion, if he wanted to.

"I don't know, Pete. Where do you think?"

"With you." Peter replied. "Where you went."

Peter awoke feeling wrong. Ben's face kept appearing as he laid back down, tugging the covers off. He felt sweaty.

The second dream was the parade. The balloons were flying high up in the sky, and Peter was so excited for the Captain America balloon to get close enough. May squeezed his hand tighter when someone bumped into them, tugging him close. Peter, for some reason, could hear her heartbeat.

It kept getting louder and louder, and faster and faster, and- "What's wrong, May?"

"Nothing, bubah," May said, and Peter couldn't feel her hand. "We're almost to the fair, are you excited?"

"Is Ben coming?"

"Right after he's done with work."

That's not right. Peter knows that Ben was away.

"May, are you gonna die?"

This conversation was not on that day. This was at a science fair, when he was 7 years old. Peter's peers all had their parents present, all of them together. And Peter couldn't tell what to feel. Sad? Happy? Guilty?

Sad his parents aren't there?

Happy that Aunt May and Uncle Ben are?

Guilty that he doesn't feel sad?

This May, however, is at the parade. And they're almost to the fair, like Peter and she were supposed to go to before Peter got lost. Before May had her heart attack, and before it was just Peter and Ben, and the little world Ben and May had together was lost.

"Bubah, where is this coming from?" May says, and Peter mouths the words as she tells him, "I'm not going to leave you, Peter. Are you feeling fuzzy again? It's okay if you're not feeling well, I'll help you feel all better, just like last time, remember?"

Peter shook his head. "I just miss you."

May looks sad. Peter's eyes sting with tears. "I know."

Peter woke up that time feeling like he needed his inhaler. But he knows he didn't need his inhaler anymore. He closed his eyes again, desperate for the dreams to go away. They didn't.

His third dream was of his first foster family. Peter had spent a month at a group house, and he had grown quiet. He wanted to talk, he really did. But sometimes his mouth just wouldn't open, and he didn't know what to do to make it stop. His therapist tried her best, told him that it's okay to be overwhelmed.

Peter had wanted to argue. This isn't the first time. I should be used to this now.

But that thought had struck him with so much guilt, he couldn't breathe.

He was sitting at dinner with his first foster family, feeling the brunt of one of those days. The grief that took his voice, that made his whole body ache and his eyes feel hot, and him feel small. He kept poking at his dinner, but the nagging voice in his head is reminding him that the dinner table is wrong. It's not the real one he remembers. In the dream, this table looks like the one from his third foster home.

Chandler tapped the table to get Peter's attention.

The couple that took him in, Karen and Devon, had their own son. He was 16, and Peter is 10, but Chandler was really nice to him despite the age difference. Peter thought he was being nice because he knew what happened to Ben.

He points his middle and ring finger towards his chest and moves them up, then makes a claw with his right hand and touches his left fist. Peter, who had only been here for a month, has no idea what this means. He doesn't know much ASL, unlike their family, who had been learning since Chandler lost his hearing.

Chandler isn't mad that Peter doesn't know. He taps the table for Karen's attention, and Karen shows Peter what he means.

"Feeling fuzzy?" Karen repeats the action, teaching Peter how to make the signs.

Fuzzy. He doesn't know if everyone even understands what he means when he tells them that's what he's feeling. But they never question him about it.

May and Ben did that too.

Peter nodded his head. Chandler raised his hands again, signing something else Peter doesn't know yet. Karen teaches Peter what each one means, her voice is soft and her hands are gentle.

"Do you want watch Star Wars?"

Chandler laughs when Peter sits up straighter, and he already knows the answer.

Peter opens his mouth to reply, but they're no longer sitting at their dinner table, but walking down the streets of New York. Peter is holding Karen's hand, wondering why they wanted to foster to adopt him of all kids. He holds on tight to her hand, desperate not to let go this time. Karen doesn't mind if it hurts.

The sky gets dark, and Peter holds onto her hand even when the debris falls through the sky and hits them.

He jolted out of his sleep with that dream, tossing and turning. The evening is now night, but Peter is not rested. They aren't bad dreams. He thinks. He doesn't know why he feels like scratching at his skin.

Wanting to try just one more time, Peter lays back down.

Peter hates cigarettes. At his 7th foster house, it always smells like cigarettes. He goes to school covered in the smell, so much so that his teachers keep accusing him of smoking in the bathroom. They only stopped when Peter started crying and told them he was sorry, really sorry, but he couldn't wash his clothes to get the smell out because they weren't allowed to use his foster father's laundry room.

At his 8th foster house- where Peter wears long sleeves to cover up the burn scars on his arm that made his social worker move him and Neri- doesn't smell like cigarettes, but disinfectant. All the time.

Neri and Peter sit on the porch, locked out of the house again. She came from the 7th foster house to this one with Peter, which doesn't happen all that often. He thinks. He's still only 11, and been in the system for a year. Neri wouldn't be able to tell him if it's normal or not, because she's only 7 years old.

He doesn't know much about her, or where she comes from. She sounds like Brooklyn, but she doesn't want to talk about it, so Peter doesn't bring it up. He thinks it's because of what happened at their last house, because Neri likes Peter so much that she doesn't fight the social workers when he's there, that they get to stay together.

"Do you know where we go when we die?"

Neri's abrupt question startles Peter. He could have sworn this conversation happened right before she was pulled to another house, and Peter never saw her in person again until her funeral. Right now, she's supposed to ask when they'd be allowed back inside, and Peter would say, "When Miss Una says we're clean."

"I don't know." Peter replies, folding his hands and watching the sun sink in the sky. He's back in Queens for the first time all year, and that's his only comfort right now. "Where do you think we go?"

"With mommy." Neri says, picking at the paint on the porch. "Peter, do you miss your mommy and daddy?"

Peter wishes his eyes would water. But they don't. His parents had been strangers, and he doesn't have anything left to remember their faces. That was destroyed in the Battle of Manhattan. And Peter won't have access to Ben and May's storage unit until he's 18.

"Sometimes." He says, and he doesn't know if it's a lie or not. "I miss a lot of people."

"My mommy was really pretty." Neri tells him, and it's like it's a secret. "I think she was an angel, before she died."

"I think so too."

"You do?"

"Well, where else would you get it from?" Peter pokes her side, and Neri giggles. She leans into Peter's side, so he wraps his arm around her.

"Will you miss me?"

Peter looks down at her. She feels cold underneath his hand. "What do you mean?"

"You said you miss a lot of people. When I die, will you miss me?"

Peter didn't stay in bed after that. He woke up feeling like everything was too close to him, sweating buckets but feeling cold as if he had a fever. He jumped out of the sheets and across the hall to the bathroom, stumbling in the dark when he turned on the shower. He didn't bother with the lights.

Nightwing didn't know he was heading to the Upper East Side until he was there.

Sometimes he has the audacity to zone out, on the slow nights or the bad ones. He gets there at about 10PM, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. It isn't like he hasn't handled stress before. Universe knows that he's gone through more than he ever should have and that it's a miracle he is even somewhat sane.

However, recently, the stress has been hitting him harder than he'd like to admit.

He's finding it difficult to get to sleep when he finally gets the chance to. Going back and forth from Gotham to Bludhaven is taking its toll on him, but… someone else is bothering him.

He'll end up tossing and turning over in his bed, kicking the sheets off of him in a desperate attempt to get comfortable somehow. And he starts wondering if he should check under the mattress for peas, because what else could be keeping him awake like this?

No peas are hidden under his mattress, so he can scratch off a fairy tale being the reason he's up all night. A pea is bothering him, but it's the mental kind. A feeling that is just out of reach, hounding his every waking thought and screaming at him to get up when he tries to rest. The moment he sets his head on his pillow, he knows that five minutes later he will be sitting upright, that bite of anxiety herding him wherever it wants to.

What? He wants to yell at his own mind. What am I missing?

Because that's just it, he has to be missing something! It's the same kind of itch that he gets when he can't solve a case, the kind that makes him pace around his room at ungodly hours of the night.

Is it Two-Face? Firefly? Both of the villains are still out there in Gotham, biding their time before their next strike. Obviously it bothers him that they're out there, that's literally what he is here in Gotham for. But their cases haven't felt any more unusual than they always are. Villains getting out of Arkham? Shiver his damn timbers, or whatever.

Which leads him to think: Is it Spiderman?

He's gone from just a rumor the city is passing around to an actual, real person. A short, clearly young kid kind of person, but yes. Not a rumor.

In fact, he's a very strong and fast, talented person that they need to keep an eye on. However, he isn't the only vigilante to start working in Gotham outside of Batman's team. He's likely going to go down the same route as the rest of them, because Bruce's rule hasn't gone out the window just for Spiderman. If they don't get the kid talking and on their side, then he's gonna have to go.

And they're sort of rooting for him to stay, even if only a couple of them have said it out loud. When Cass had sent that video, it had been their first time actually seeing SpiderMan, except, well, for Nightwing. But he had just seen Spiderman for the first time minutes before that. And in a short time, Spiderman has gotten Bruce's attention, as well as Damian's.

Hell, even Tim has been rattling on about the webs that Spiderman uses, and Cass sent a thumbs up for him. Stephanie and Duke are of the impression that it would be cool to have another meta on the team, and Jason hasn't said anything on what he thinks. All Nightwing knows is that he's an impressive kid, probably trained from an even younger age than he is now. That accounts to how easy it is for him to get a villain like Ohnn on defense.

Nightwing was impressed too, but more-so because of the person he met, not the video. The kid is witty, and he saved Nightwing before he went splat on the concrete, so he finds it hard to imagine himself wanting to kick the kid out of Gotham. In fact, it'd be nice to have him around.

And yet, Nightwing doesn't think that's the case for the sleepless nights. Or it might be part of it. It isn't until he finds himself looking down at a familiar figure sitting on a roof that he thinks he knows why he can't sleep at night.

It's the Elusive Peter, out for a night of city-watching again.

The kid isn't sitting on a ledge again, which gives Nightwing some peace of mind. Despite the fact that it's nearing the end of October, he doesn't have a jacket on, only wearing a long sleeve night shirt, plaid pajama bottoms, and socks. He's holding his knees and leaning back on a wall of a storage closet on top of the apartment building that he's been living in, over the Benny's restaurant.

Nightwing hangs back for a moment, peering down at the kid. He doesn't have any new injuries, and in fact, looks bruise free. But it has been a while since Dick saw him, and hasn't just heard from the others what he's been up to.

What he lacks in bruises, he makes up for in red and puffy eyes, like he's been crying. Peter…

Peter looks more tired than a kid should ever feel.

It's not the kind of tired where it can be cured with a good night's rest. It's a tired that he himself knows all too well, like looking in a reflection of himself. Maybe this is what Bruce had meant when he told Dick that he saw his own past in Dick, when he had just lost his parents.

Sitting in the silence of the rooftops like this, Peter looks small. The kid always looks small for his age, but that isn't what he means. It's like the kid is trying to make himself blend right in to the backdrop of the city.

And that… That won't do.

Nightwing's feet carry him towards the roof that Peter is on, thinking that this has to be the reason why he decided to go on patrol on a night that he was supposed to get some sleep. It's been Peter, the whole time. Thinking about this poor kid who's become a pawn in the adults' business, who won't ask for their help unless they meddle, that's what he can't stand.

"Kid, aren't you cold? It's like, 35 degrees out. You're gonna get sick."

He doesn't know why that's his opening. Their last conversation had gotten somewhat unpleasant, because Nightwing ended up pushing too soon. This time, he wants it to go right. He wants to gain Peter's trust, so Peter will let them help him properly.

Peter looks away from the city lights, rubbing his hands over shivering arms. He gives Nightwing a shaky smile. This close, Nightwing can tell he was right that Peter had been crying. His eyes and nose are red and puffy, there are bags under his eyes. He's lost weight since Nightwing last saw him. (Not okay, not at all, because Peter was malnourished before and it's only getting worse.)

He doesn't look surprised to see Nightwing.

"Oh hey, Mom, you're back."

There it is, the easy going nature that the kid has. Nightwing grins as he sits down next to Peter- not too close, because Peter tenses up when he thinks that's what is about to happen.

"Haha, very funny." There are droplets of water dripping from the wavy curls on Peter's head to his shoulders. As if he had just bolted right out of the shower and came up here, without a thought to himself. Nightwing tries not to show the strike of worry that eats at him, instead reaching out to ruffle Peter's hair.

Thankfully, the kid allows the contact without looking ready to run. He doesn't move at all, though. It's like he's frozen to the spot. Nightwing pulls back his hand, and doesn't miss the way the kid's shoulders relax, but his eyes track the movement of Nightwing's hand, as if not wanting him to stop. Mixed signals on this front… he wants the contact but is afraid of it, maybe.

"Why are you out here with your hair wet?" Nightwing can't hold it back any longer. There's no one else looking after the kid, and even if Peter hates him for it, he's gonna have to bring it up. "You're really gonna get sick that way."

"I don't get sick. I have an indomitable immune system, my doctor said so." Peter replies casually, but it's moot when Nightwing can see him shivering and hear his teeth chattering.

"They did, huh…?"

"You sound skeptical, but I assure you, I only ever have to go for my yearly visit and my vaccination shots." Peter sniffles, and squints when he realizes this doesn't help his case. Nightwing leans a little closer to Peter's side because he has a heating system in his suit.

"So you're testing your limits?"

"Just… felt like getting out of my room." If Peter notices what Nightwing is doing, he doesn't point it out. He doesn't lean away, but he doesn't lean closer, either. Just… stuck.

"Kid…"

"I'm being safe." Peter doesn't quite get what Nightwing is worried about. "I know you guys know where I live, and we are literally on the roof of that building right now. I took the fire escape and there aren't any hardened criminals on top of the burger joint."

As if the kid's only concern is whether or not he gets shot. Nightwing briefly considers if kidnapping Peter to the Wayne Manor is a reliable option. The others would back him up, but they would disapprove of the method. Batman could shut his damn mouth about it- he should have taken the opportunity those few nights ago to at least bring it up to Peter when he managed to get the kid in the Batmobile.

"You could at least bring a jacket with you. Your immune system can only bring you so far." Nightwing points out.

"I've been out here for two minutes."

This kid… Nightwing internally shakes his head. He has a feeling he should pick and choose his battles… or… he could fight this one, in a sneaky, underhanded way. It's for Peter's benefit, so he can forgive himself for it.

"Well… seen anything worth watching yet?"

Peter releases a short breath, looking at Nightwing for a heartbeat, searching his face. The kid is always trying to read him, trying to figure him out with those clever eyes. Even when he met Peter as himself, Peter had been wary, had searched Dick's face as if searching for a reason to run.

He must find something there, because Peter has the faintest smile.

"I watched two rats fight over a hot dog down there. Not really a new sight, though."

"That happen a lot in Queens?" Nightwing grins back.

Peter chuckles, raising his voice to regal Nightwing with a tale. "The rats own the city. They have a rat king in the sewers who's at war with the crocodiles."

"Sounds harrowing, I shudder to think of it." Nightwing pretends to shudder, in the process, getting just a bit closer to Peter, so he can feel the heat from the suit. "You ever met this rat king?"

"No, not yet. It's on my bucket list though."

"So, what else is different from Queens? Besides, you know, the obvious."

Peter considers his words for a moment, then says, "The noise is different."

"You mean… city noise?"

And Peter, for the first time, offers up information about himself first. Without Nightwing having to ask. "Yeah. It's like… I dunno. Just different enough that it's hard to sleep sometimes. It sounds stupid…"

"No, it doesn't." Nightwing is quick to swipe that thought away, hoping Peter would get that he could tell Nightwing anything, and he won't think it's stupid. Actually, it's Nightwing who says something stupid. He talks about himself. "I get that. My family and I use to travel all the time when I was a kid, and the cities used to sound different."

He pauses, wondering why that had slipped out so easily. He doesn't talk about him when he's Nightwing. He always draws that line, between vigilante and civilian, for his safety, for his health.

However, he thinks Peter really needs someone to get it.

"You ever been to the countryside?"

Peter shakes his head, all of his attention turned on Nightwing rather than the city. And when he speaks, Nightwing can still feel sweet country air on his skin, hot and humid. He can taste the honeysuckle one of the older kids showed him, the flower they'd snack on after a show. He can even hear the wind in the trees, followed by the memory of his mother's voice.

"It's nothing like here, like the big cities. Depending on where you are, they have these bugs, they're called cicadas. They make noise all night long, talking to crickets and frogs outside your window. And let me tell you, it is way harder to sleep when you can only hear a frog in your ear. I'd prefer the cars honking and the cussing, sometimes, because man can those things yell."

Peter laughs- a real, actual laugh, maybe picturing a frog like Dick is. He has dimples in his cheeks, and he only shivers when the wind passes by. Dick shields Peter from it, sitting up just enough to block it.

"I'm being serious, kid, they're awful!" He insists, laughing with Peter, because the kid's laugh is contagious. "They were out to get me, and me personally. All night long, just a yappin' outside my window, and they only got to stay because they ate the crickets, which were even louder."

"Yappin'? What are you, eighty years old?" Peter snorts, and Dick gasps in mock offense.

"I'm seventy, young man, and not a day older."

"I'll let you think that, 'cause I'm so nice."

"Maybe I'll have to put some frogs outside your window and see how you describe it." Dick says, and Peter is shaking his head. Unfortunately, the air grows silent for a few heartbeats, leaving Dick to wonder what else to talk about. He got Peter laughing, so maybe he should keep talking about frogs?

Is that what kids like these days? Dick actually doesn't know. His most recent experience with a teenager this young is Damian, and the kid usually only laughs when one of them falls or he proves them wrong about something.

Dick is quiet too long (it's only been a couple seconds), because when he opens his mouth to tell Peter about a time he fell into a lake (this will surely get him to laugh more), he's struck by how quickly Peter's smile has turned sad.

The kid is trying to maintain it, trying not to shrink in on himself. Dick inwardly panics, wondering if his silence had startled Peter back to the start. Then, he catches the way Peter's brows furrow, and he has a hard time meeting Dick's eyes.

"…It's been a while since I last saw you around here." Peter breaks the quiet first.

That certainly wasn't what Dick was expecting. Had he actually noticed Dick doesn't patrol around here, but rather in other districts? Or is it because he's only seen Red Hood around these parts since their first encounter?

"Yeah… I'm back and forth between places right now. There's a lot going on."

Which is the truth, but it suddenly feels like an excuse. He just doesn't know how to tell Peter that he wishes he could visit every day to check on him. But he can't, not with everything going on. Not with Two-Face, Firefly, and Ohnn out there.

"Right…" Peter chews on the inside of his cheek, his legs getting closer to his chest as if to get smaller. He now looks at his hands, playing with his fingers. "Um… I spoke to Mr. Red Hood…"

"Mister Red Hood? You know, you can just call him Red Hood, right?"

"My aunt and uncle taught me to be a polite young man, thank you very much."

Dick laughs, earning a chuckle out of Peter. It's more subdued than before.

This can only be about one thing. Ohnn still hasn't been caught, and Peter has been spending his time inside. Dick can imagine the toll it must be taking on him, being all alone save for the restaurant owner and his customers. He can't even go to school, can't meet new friends to help him feel like a kid rather than a hostage.

If this was Dick, he would have already asked a million questions by now about how their investigation is going- hell, he would have started investigating himself, like Peter must have been doing when he tailed Ohnn that day. It's a no-brainer that the kid wants to get back to his life that he had before things went to shit.

And another image strikes Dick, makes his blood run cold, recalling what Jason described about Peter's injuries. Had he met Ohnn again? But no, they would have known. He isn't injured.

But he had been injured. He's got to be terrified that it will happen again.

"Is this about that man, Ohnn? Is everything okay? Red Hood told us about it, you know we're looking for him, right? We won't let him hurt you."

Peter's brows furrow as Nightwing speaks, and before he can even finish, Peter is shaking his head. "No, no, I'm not scared, or anything." Peter glances up at Nightwing's face, and then away just as fast. "I was… I mean, I apologized to Mister Red Hood, but I didn't get to apologize to you."

What?

"Me? What for?"

"I kinda snapped at you, that wasn't cool of me." Peter's words feel like a punch to the guts. It hurts to see how he struggles to get the works out properly, stuttering to phrase it the right way. "Sometimes I get… I dunno, I get angry out of nowhere sometimes, and I don't like when that happens. I'm sorry."

Peter won't look at him.

Something about that bothers him. That Peter is picking at his nails, that he's gone back to feeling tense. That he won't meet Dick's eye, and his face is twisted with guilt.

"I'm not mad at you, kid." Dick's voice comes out even softer than he meant it, as if they're sharing a secret. "Did you think I was mad at you?"

"I dunno." Peter shrugs, his voice catching.

He did.

Peter doesn't have to say it. He can't hide how he's feeling, the kid wears his emotions on his sleeve. Especially not after a night where he's obviously been crying. And briefly, Dick wonders with a heavy heart if Peter came out into the cold with his hair wet not because he was just a kid who thought it wouldn't matter, but because he was punishing himself.

"Red Hood told us about Tony, too, you know." Dick says slowly, and Peter finally looks back up at him. The kid is waiting for the other shoe to drop, mistrust gleaming in his eyes. "I heard you care about him a lot, and it's obvious at that time that you did. Peter, I'd be upset if someone thought that someone I cared about had hurt me."

There it is again. Disbelief, like he hadn't thought Dick would reply this way.

"It's just-" Peter is contemplative, conflicted. He bites his cheek, looking around them for the words. He grows frustrated with himself, and it's almost like he's forcing the words out of his mouth.

"…I don't- I don't…" Peter says, and Dick almost tells hims he doesn't have to say anything, if only to get the kid to feel more comfortable, but Peter plows through. "I don't trust easy."

Dick falls silent.

Peter is choosing his words carefully. He is the one making this first step, not Dick. And if that's what he wants, Dick isn't going to do anything but listen.

"But Tony, you know, he like… He put in so much effort for that. Just for me." When Peter says 'me', his voice cracks, and he looks so distraught that Dick wants to hug him. "And I wasn't his foster kid, then, either. I was just some random kid, but he still did that. So I just… He's a good guy."

He speaks as if the notion that Tony, let alone anyone, putting that kind of effort into him is a fantasy concept.

How could anyone ever let this happen to him?

He's so young, so new to the world and yet he knows far too much. His eyes are like that of Jason's, of Tim's, of Stephanie, Duke, and Damian. His eyes are like Dick's, when he looked in the mirror. Knew too much, too fast, and was robbed of the childhood he should have had.

It's cruel. It's mean, and so twisted, and the older he gets, the more kids he sees with those eyes, the more it feels like the world has never been fair. Dick's chest pangs with grief thinking about it- thinking about Peter, and what could have made him think this way.

He wants to scoop Peter up and take him home. Give him a decent, proper meal, and a warm bed, and a house where he doesn't have to look over his shoulder every day. Not when he'd be surrounded by people who would never let anyone hurt him again.

But Peter doesn't trust easily. He can't ask Peter to do this, not when he knows Peter would run away from him like he does everyone that tries to get close.

If this is the case, then Dick will put in the effort. He'll make sure that Peter can never doubt his trust, just like how he never doubts Tony. In order to get, someone has to give. And he thinks he knows how to do this. By going one step at a time.

"Do you want to start over?"

Peter scrunches up his face in confusion, tilting his head at Dick, because this seemingly has nothing to do with what Peter just told him. It's adorable, even if Peter still has his walls up around Nightwing. "I mean, let's introduce ourselves. We've never done that."

The kid raises a brow at him.

"But didn't Mister Red Hood tell you my name?"

"Yeah, but I'm still meeting you." Dick holds his hand out to Peter, and rather than faking a cheery, over the top voice, he leans back on the wall and hopes it comes across as important. That Nightwing cares about him, wants to get to know him.

"Hey, I'm Nightwing, it's nice to meet you."

Peter stares at his hand for a long time, his mouth open as if the words are caught in his throat. But eventually, his gaze flickers up towards Dick's face, and there.

There it is.

A glimmer of hope, beneath the defenses he'd built up. A sparkle in his eyes that Dick is so, so grateful for, because it means Peter really was reaching out just now. Peter smiles smally, a hesitant thing, but no less warm. He reaches out and grabs Dick's hand, his hands so cold.

"Nice to meet you Mister Nightwing. I'm Peter Grayson."

…

…Huh?

Dick pauses, his smile almost faltering.

"Grayson?"

Grayson!?

See now, Dick has not gotten a chance to talk to the others in a couple of days, because the students have their mid-term exams, Jason is off doing what he wants, and Bruce has been all in on sniffing out where Two-Face and Firefly are. He's been in Bludhaven, but he does know that Tim had said he 'learned something interesting' when he met Peter as himself.

This had to be it, and why those three teenagers had giggled when they brought it up briefly.

Those little shits…

It caught Dick off guard, but… it's not like it's truly a unique last name. Plenty of people have it that aren't related to Dick, and Peter is one of them. Just… it's weird, hearing this kid use his last name at all. That's it, right?

That's all there is to it?

Wait, is this… actually Peter's last name? He had just met Dick Grayson two weeks ago, and Peter strikes Dick as the type to avoid using his real name, even if he's trying to trust someone.

Peter makes a face at him, and in a voice that says this isn't the first time this has bothered him, asks, "Is that an uncommon name here? Or is there a villain with that last name? Everyone I introduce myself to does that whole repeaty thing."

Dick struggles for an explanation. He doesn't want to make the kid think that he thinks Peter is lying about his last name, but it had truly caught him off guard. He clears his throat, and he doesn't have to force out a smile because he laughs awkwardly.

"It's just, uh, that Bruce Wayne's oldest son has that last name."

"That's the old guy that's on, like, every billboard in the city, right?"

At this, the awkward laughter turns into real laughter. Oh, man, he had thought that their family calling Bruce 'old' had been just a joke at this point still- but now kids who aren't even related to him use that as his first descriptor? He'll have to tell everyone later, after chewing them out for not warning him about Peter's last name.

"Yeah, that's him." Dick, hoping this doesn't come out as fishing for information, asks, "So, who do you get your name from?"

Peter grins again, relaxing into the wall behind them. "My dad."

"Tony? Wait, sorry, that's your…"

"Foster father." Peter reminds him gently. There's a soft look on his face as he speaks now, more vulnerable than he had shown Dick so far. "My mom and dad died when I was little."

There are many ways to become a foster kid, so he hadn't wanted to guess. But it does hurt that Peter experienced loss and grief when he was that little.

Peter squints at his knees.

"Hey, when I look up, you better not have the 'pity the poor orphan' face on."

Dick huffs, shaking his head at the idea. "No, no, it's not that face. I used to get that face too. I hated it."

Which is correct. Dick had never despised anything more than when someone would give him that look, as if he was broken. Maybe because he didn't believe he was, because he's still alive and was doing something to process it. Maybe because it was a reminder that he was broken.

Peter is gently surprised, but he seems… appreciative that Dick would tell him that. He breathes a sigh of relief, and for the first time, he leans closer to Nightwing's shoulder.

"It's a terrible face."

"Absolutely frustrating." Dick says, and Peter grins, still looking at his hands on his knees. Dick prays he isn't pushing his luck when he speaks, keeping his voice low. Almost low enough that Peter could choose to pretend he never heard it. "But what about your aunt and uncle?"

Peter had mentioned it earlier. If he had living relatives, then wouldn't he have stayed with them, instead of going into foster care? The kid's grin drops again, and he shrugs shortly.

"They both died a few years later, so I went into foster care."

It isn't fair.

But why would Dick tell him that? Peter knows it isn't fair, and Dick knows it isn't fair. There's no use stomping it into the ground, and Dick refuses to be one of the people who can only say 'sorry.' He gets it, he doesn't blame those people. But what good can come out of Dick's past right now, other than being able to speak to Peter the way he wished someone would speak to him?

"What do you and Tony like to do?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Well, you two have like, a thing you two do together, right? My dad and I do puzzles together sometimes, it's our thing we do." Dick fails to mention the other thing, called fighting crime in spandex and Kevlar, but Peter doesn't need to know that. "So what is it? Roller coasters? Baking? Shoplifting?" Dick guesses the last one with a fake semi-serious tone, and Peter shakes his head and laughs. "If it's shoplifting, I'm not a snitch."

"We don't do any of those things. I think Tony would burn the house down if he tried to bake anything ever again."

"So, what do you do?"

Peter hesitates, but he relents, and Dick gets to learn yet another thing about this mysterious Tony- and Peter. He hates that he's filing away the information, that he's going to tell the others about some of it. But this is the most that Peter has said about himself and Tony in ever.

But what he does note is the sparkle in Peter's eye as he talks about Tony, and how the dark shadows on his face disappear. In this moment, he's a kid who wants to talk about his dad. Maybe pretend that everything is normal, having a moment where the world isn't trying to screw him over.

"Tony, uh, he's a mechanical engineer. Not just a mechanical engineer, he's the best in the world. Uh, in my- in my opinion." Peter stammers at the end, grimacing as though he shouldn't have said that. He fiddles with his hands as if building something in the air. "He makes robots, and planes, and, uh, all that stuff. We spend hours in the lab every day after school, and Pepper always has to drag us out of there 'cause we forget that we have to eat and sleep sometimes. But it's just- it's so much fun, because he's brilliant, and he teaches me everything he knows about engineering. We started building a bot together before all of this happened, and I really wish I could show you, 'cause it's super smart and tells funny jokes. We call them HAFI, cause Tony likes acronyms."

This might be the most Peter has said to him in one sitting. Peter had been cracking jokes, but overall he's a quiet kid, waiting for someone else to fill in the silence if he can. But apparently when you get the ball rolling, Peter can ramble. Dick can't suppress his triumphant grin, that Peter doesn't notice because he's too busy talking.

"It stands for 'Humorous Autonomous Friendly Intelligence' but honestly, we named it like that because it sounds like 'Happy', which is Tony's friend's nickname. He looks and acts like a grump but he's really not, 'cause a grump wouldn't go to birthday parties and wear stupid hats if he didn't like you."

He thought that Peter didn't know too much about Tony's work, but from what it sounds like, he and Peter work together a lot. If Peter is in this lab all the time after school, he's bound to know more than he's letting on.

(Then again, when Peter said this, he was new to town, had just been beaten up, and wasn't trusting anyone.)

Tony is an engineer and it sounds like he gets work, if what Peter is describing is true. So he's bound to at least have a name somewhere in the engineering world. There's also two new names in the mix that might make it easier to find him and ask what the hell Ohnn is doing. Pepper must live with them, but Happy is just a friend. A nickname could go a long way if it isn't just a personal nickname that Tony gave the guy.

"So you're telling me that you can build robots? Dude!" Dick nudges Peter's side with his elbow, and Peter attempts to hold back a shy smile. "You didn't tell me you were a genius, kid, I would have tried to sound smarter."

"I can't build one on my own, I'm not that smart. I'm not as good as him." Peter deflects, his face growing red. He doesn't get compliments often, Dick guesses. Well, that's gonna change tonight.

"But you can still build one, and that's so frickin' cool. Give yourself some credit, Peter." Dick gently taps Peter's shoulder with the back of his hand. They're sitting close enough that Peter is no longer shivering from the cold and is instead shoulder to shoulder with Dick. Peter hugs his knees, almost leaning into him. "What other talents is Peter Grayson hiding?"

Peter gives a shaky laugh, tucking his fingers into the long sleeves of his shirt. The kid's face pales, his ears getting redder and turning away from Dick. He must really not be used to talking about himself, because now he's getting shy.

"What do you mean? I'm just Peter."

"Any other hobbies? Like, music? Writing? Sports? What does Just-Peter do when he's not building robots in his spare time?"

Peter gains some color back into his face, really thinking about it. He pouts his bottom lip as he searches for something, the silence stretching for a little longer than Dick expected. Oh, man, maybe he shouldn't have asked? It's not like the kid has much to do, considering he's being hunted down by a madman.

"…I know some gymnastics."

First, he's relieved it wasn't a bad question. Then, his interest is piqued ten times over. He blinks down at Peter, a smile slipping onto his face.

"Really?"

Peter is a small kid, doesn't look very athletic, but maybe it's because he wears baggy clothes all the time. It's hard to tell if he has the muscle strength for it, but- well, this is good for Nightwing's secret plan on getting Peter warmed up and tired enough to go to bed.

And really, if there's one thing Dick can talk about, it's gymnastics.

"Yeah. My, uh, dad was in gymnastics before he died." Peter is suddenly very interested in his shoes. "But I couldn't afford classes, so I never got too into it."

"Too into it?"

Peter catches the tone in Dick's voice and pries his gaze away from his very interesting, beat up converse to squint at him.

"You're making a face like you-"

"I'm going first."

Nightwing jumps to his feet, patting Peter's knee as he does. Peter's jaw drops, gawking at Nightwing as if he just said he could do real magic. Nightwing claps his hands together, and he turns himself upside down to stand on his hands.

He gives Peter a wide grin. "Can you do this?"

"I- I'm not warmed up. And it's cold outside-"

"It's okay if you can't."

"-What?"

"I mean, a handstand is hard. I get it. Maybe we can try something else."

"I can do a handstand. Anyone can figure out a handstand."

Nightwing raises a brow as Peter scoffs, getting to his feet, and files away for later that this trick somehow worked. It usually does. It worked on Jason, worked on Tim, worked on Damian- hell, it's worked on Bruce a couple times.

And to his credit, Peter is in a handstand with little effort. He doesn't even flinch at the tiny rocks on the roof, and even walks with his hands over to face Nightwing.

"All right, so you can do a handstand." Nightwing sees Peter's crooked grin. "But can you do a cartwheel?"

Nightwing is about to do one, but Peter beats him to it. It's an effortless glide as he spins, landing once again on his handstand. Nightwing falls out of his handstand to crouch in front of Peter, pointing a finger at the kid's playful smirk.

"I thought you said you didn't know much about it."

"I know enough." Peter manages to shrug upside down.

"'Enough', you say. Alright, little punk, so how much do you know?"

Peter snickers, "Try me."

"Round off."

Peter lowers himself out of the handstand, jumping back to his feet pretty quick. Nightwing almost comments that he should be mindful of the blood rushing to his head, but Peter isn't even phased. His face isn't even red from hanging upside down.

He stretches his arms as though to do a cartwheel, adding a hurdle in the air. It's great form, actually, and he is convinced Peter was downplaying how interested he was in gymnastics. Peter lands on his feet as if he's done this trick millions of times.

…He clearly knows more than he let on.

"Front Walkover."

Easy work, but he knew that.

"Back extension roll."

Peter is smiling freely, more relaxed than Nightwing has seen him ever. If he's bothered by the cold, he doesn't let it show. He just shows off, even demanding that Nightwing has to do the same.

Handstand Pirouettes, front handspring, back handspring, an aerial cartwheel, front tuck, back tuck- Peter knows it all. When Dick is in Gotham, he runs a gymnastics class for the younger students, for beginners, so he knows the difference between a beginner and someone who has months of practice under their belt. Peter is the latter.

When Peter lands on his feet again after a back layout- which is certainly not for a beginner who's never taken a class- Nightwing can't contain himself. He claps Peter on the back, feeling sort of proud of Peter. Never taken a class, but he managed to do all of this?

"How did you learn this?" Nightwing asks. Peter's face is a little red from running around, his hair is mostly dry and windswept, and he's seemed to have forgotten the awkward air from before. He's suddenly a different kid than the small one Nightwing had seen just 40 minutes ago.

"YouTube, mostly." Peter explains, rubbing his hands together. There are little marks on his hands from rocks, and Nightwing almost winces. He shouldn't have let Peter do this on top of a roof, now that he thinks about it. "But my grandparents had videos of their routines, so I used to watch that."

"All of this from ViewTube, just videos?" Nightwing almost can't believe it, but he does.

It's almost instinct, to just reach out and ruffle Peter's hair. He does it all the time to his brothers, so it isn't until he's already doing it that he realizes Peter might not appreciate it. But Peter doesn't slap his hand away, and actually leans into his hand this time, suppressing a goofy smile.

And man, that was adorable.

"This is seriously impressive, kiddo. You're really talented, I'm almost jealous." Nightwing would add a thousand more compliments, if only to keep Peter smiling. He practically beams under the praise, like a plant seeing the sun.

But, unfortunately, all time comes to an end. Nightwing hears a crackle of his comm- they must have realized he was out, now, and they're going to hound him at any second to get back to bed. Nightwing fixes Peter's hair with a sigh.

"It's getting pretty late, Pete. Sorry, but I have to get back."

Peter nods, maybe expecting that, but he doesn't look unhappy. "Yeah, I figured. Thanks, Mister Nightwing."

"What for? And just call me Nightwing."

He's quiet for a moment, contemplative once again.

"I was having a bad night." He says softly. "I missed my dad."

He must have been delirious. He must have been, because why else would he have told Nightwing all of that? Why else did he act like a baby that needed cheering up?

The second Nightwing is gone, it all crashes down on Peter like he had been holding the sky, like a moron. He groans into his hand, the embarrassment radiating off of him. Foolish, childish, stupid, is what that was. How could he have acted like that?

Peter never should have come up to the roof in the first place.

After all of those dreams back to back- where they felt like nightmares, but could have been dreams- Peter had dunked himself in the cold water of the shower, barely got dressed, and climbed up to the roof. He swore it was because he needed to see the city lights and clear his head. No other reason.

(But if it was no other reason, then why didn't Peter grab a jacket? Why didn't he dry his hair first? Why did he let himself sit in the cold, feeling the sting in his fingers and the sharp pain in his lungs as it stuck to him?

He was angry with himself, is why. He knows his body isn't good with the cold, and he did it anyway. On purpose. To feel something? Or was he just that angry at himself, that he wanted to feel the hurt?)

It was those nightmares- dreams- whatever he calls them. They're the reason that Peter just started blabbing about himself to Nightwing, a stranger, practically. What was he thinking? He hadn't even trusted Tim, Duke, or Stephanie- the teenagers that he swears are more trustworthy than adults. He hadn't told them much about himself, had avoided the topic altogether.

But Nightwing was right there, minutes before Peter would have calmed himself down and gotten over it. And he tried looking for reasons not to tell him anything, tried to convince himself it was a bad idea. But the voice inside his head was quiet, for once. And his spider-sense only kept telling him:

'safe. gentle. worried.'

It just… It felt like Tony, in a way. Not exactly, but close enough. And he started to feel guilty that he was so closed off from someone who was trying.

Worried, he had been told by his spider-sense. He cared if Peter was going to get sick. He was trying to make Peter laugh, and he talked about himself just to ease Peter. And ease, he did- it was so easy to talk to Nightwing, like they're old friends. So Peter had to apologize.

He had been snippy with Nightwing, after all, and Peter- maybe he only apologized because he wanted to see his reaction. (No, because Peter genuinely felt bad for snapping at him.) He expected Nightwing to be upset, but his first reaction…

"I'm not mad at you, kid. Did you think I was mad at you?"

As if it had never crossed his mind to be upset with Peter. And Peter is so used to adults being angry at him, for not listening, for not understanding. The Avengers were the first adults in a long, long time that knew Peter as himself and never got angry with him. The idea never crossed their minds.

Why does he care so much? Why do they all care so much?

Peter reminds himself that they're heroes. That he of all people should know why they care so much. He also sits on rooftops and talks to civilians, he sits with kids who are having bad days and listens to them too. He cares, he cares so much that it hurts, sometimes.

He wasn't mad. And even if he doesn't actually believe that Tony is a nice guy, he reassured Peter anyway. Because he knows it matters.

And man, when he told Peter they were in the same boat? That he had also lost his parents?

Maybe that was what did it. Peter is regretting opening his mouth, but also not. Because for the first time in weeks, he talked to someone who didn't get mad that he rambles, that didn't set off alarm bells that he shouldn't get close to them. Spider-sense or otherwise. And his chest feels warm, and he keeps thinking about Nightwing ruffling his hair.

"Moron." Peter sits down on the roof. He had promised Nightwing that he was going to get to bed, but really he's waiting until he knows Nightwing is far enough away that no one will notice him slipping out into the night as Spider-Man.

"He's just being nice."

Because in reality, that's what it is. Peter can't equate him to Tony, because even Tony…

Peter might think of Tony as a dad, but he's still just Peter's teacher. A mentor, more than anything else.

Sure, Tony goes to all of his academic decathlon meets, helps him write his essays, and they sneak around to get fast food on days where they just really want a burger and are avoiding going to business meetings. But as much as Peter likes having Tony as his foster-dad, he still recognizes that he can't call Tony 'dad' to his face. Because if Peter wasn't Spider-Man, there would have been no reason for Tony to take him in as his foster-kid.

At most, he would have had an internship at Stark Industries, but been put back into the system with someone else. (Tony certified, because he knows that Tony would never let him stay with a bad foster parent. Never again.)

Nightwing isn't his foster-dad. He isn't even Peter's teacher. He's just a vigilante who sees Peter as a victim. Peter can't get attached, because… Because he'll go home, when all of this is over. And Nightwing won't think twice about him again, because he'll have other kids in Gotham to worry about.

Still, though. Peter looks at his hands, and how the divots from the rocks have disappeared. He had still felt a surge of pride and admiration when Nightwing complimented him. The same he gets from his mentors. From Tony and Pepper.

There's the echo of his dreams, whispering underneath the aftermath of Nightwing's leaving. All the people he's lost…

His tiny anxiety attack at that stupid Batburger place had been triggered by Peter starting to trust someone who was being nice to him. He hadn't had one in a long, long time, so it felt worse than it should have. He just- He was thinking about-

Westcott.

Peter rubs at his eyes, taking a cooling breath. It's been two days since then, but Peter still feels the effect if he thinks too long about it. His mind must have conjured up his family members in order to remind him of the good, but all it had done was remind him of the events that led to Peter running away that December.

Ben and May… His first foster-family, that wanted to adopt him should everything go right… and Neri. Neri, his foster-sister, that he cared about so much, because she was such a sweet kid who deserved the world. All of them had-

And Peter couldn't save them.

He really had been missing Tony, just as he told Nightwing. Tony isn't a stranger to these types of dreams. Dreams where they remember the people they couldn't save, dreams where they wake up feeling like a ton of bricks had fallen on top of them. Dreams that make them get up, get out of their rooms, and search for anything to distract and clear their minds.

Instead of finding Tony sitting in the living room, or heading down to the lab… Instead of seeing Tony's face soften when he spotted Peter, where Tony would smooth his hair or pat his shoulder, and whisper, "Let's go to the lab, bambino." Instead of that, he had met a cold and empty night, in a strange universe he doesn't belong to.

Nightwing isn't Tony, but he really helped. And Peter hopes he doesn't come to regret his half-sleepy, half-post-breakdown decision to talk. His therapist would be proud of him.

Peter forces back the pinprick of tears. No more crying.

He didn't even know he still had it in him. But apparently he does. He just- He misses his people so much right now. He'd give anything to see just one of them, even if it's just on a phone screen or whatever.

"Stop being a baby." Peter growls at himself, blinking back the tears.

"Is this a bad time?"

"Yes." Peter bites. Then freezes, feeling that pinprick at the back of his neck that someone was there. He hadn't been paying attention again. Peter's eyes widen and he whips around- not because of his spider-sense whispering to him-

we know! hey we know! here here here

-but because he recognized the voice. Peter's jaw drops at the sight of the man behind him, standing on the rooftop in a proper black winter trench coat, a nice green tie, and his black hair pulled back out of his face. The sharp features that match his dignified voice and attire, contrasting his usual tricky personality.

Peter's voice is caught in his throat. He's sure he must be dreaming.

"Mister Loki?"

Loki has his nose scrunched with distaste, observing the roof and the city around them as one would observe a fishing warehouse. He doesn't look at Peter as he talks, instead pacing closer while scoffing at a billboard that lays out what to do in each case of a villain breaking out of Arkham. "Out of all of the universes you could have been brought to, that fool picked a rather disturbing one, did he not? I half expected to find you dead when I first got here. So, congratulations for surviving in this filth, I suppo-"

Peter doesn't care if it's weird, that they've never done this before. That he's only met Loki once or twice before now. He's up from the ground in an instant, burying his face into Loki's coat and hugging him tightly around his chest. Peter can smell a lingering of Stark Tower on his coat, and the smell of home hits him so hard he almost starts crying again. Loki stumbles back quite a few steps, sputtering in surprise and his arms up in the air.

"What in the world? What are you doing?"

"Sorry," Peter manages to croak out, and he forces himself to let go of Loki just as quick as he hugged him. He takes at least ten steps backwards in a second, feeling his face grow hot with embarrassment, but it's wavered with the awe he has to see Loki standing here at all. "I'm sorry. I just- Sorry."

Loki stares at him with an unreadable expression. How can Peter say that he was so relieved to see someone he knows that he hadn't thought about the repercussions of hugging a god that definitely views Peter like he's just an ant?

"I have had worse greetings… do not do it again." Loki clears his throat, and Peter nods furiously, thankful the god didn't smite him or turn him into a toad or something.

"Wh-What are you… I mean…" Peter can't get the words out.

It's been weeks since he's been here, and he hasn't spotted a soul that he knew from home. He's still not sure if he's dreaming or not.

"You can imagine my surprise when my brother finds me and tells me that the Spider-Child has been snatched out of thin air by a snake." Loki ambles towards the edge of the roof, peering down at the street. It's the same gaze that Peter imagines he uses to watch Earth while on Asgard. "Stark is in a mess of worry, practically losing his mind, almost-"

"Is he okay?" Peter doesn't think about interrupting, but he does it anyway. Loki side glances at him, but Peter doesn't take it back.

"His health is fine." Loki informs him. Peter prays that this means what he thinks it does, and that Tony's heart isn't in trouble because of Peter. "That does not matter and it bores me to talk of it. I came to provide my much needed assistance to the Avengers, of course, when I heard you were kidnapped."

"You… came to help me?"

Peter is well aware of Loki and his Lokiness.

The god raises a brow, hearing the question beneath the question. "Yes, I did. Is that so hard for all of you to believe? Honestly, you would think that I was the one that kidnapped you."

Loki scoffs, crossing his arms and looking out towards the city again. His eyes narrow for a moment, and Peter turns his own gaze to the skyline. There, among the lights, Peter notices a shadow cross between buildings. Peter waits, heart thudding in his chest, as Batman and Robin pause. But they don't turn their eyes towards Loki and Peter.

Instead, the two vigilantes sink into shadows, headed in the opposite direction. They hold still for a few heartbeats to make sure, and then Peter turns his attention back to Loki.

"What has been going on, on their end?"

"They figured out who Dr. Ohnn is. Quite scatter-brained that one, despite the fact that he was brilliant enough to create a means to cross dimensions in such a menial way, a mockery of a god's ability."

"Yeah, uh, he's a piece of work, alright." Peter agrees, but he's still caught on that… "Wait, so, they know who he is?"

"Yes. He is a disgraced scientist turned multidimensional traveler. They have not been able to catch him. He's slippery, that one." Loki sounds impressed by Ohnn, and Peter's eye twitches. This is his life that's been turned upside down, here. It isn't impressive (it is) it's a pain in the ass and very traumatic!

"In any case, they are now aware that you are in an alternate dimension." Loki continues, sounding more bored about that… No, disappointed. "Stark has not yet figured out the technology behind Ohnn's research, as the man never kept digital copies of his work. But he was able to track Ohnn's signature through dimensions, albeit, he needed my help for the next part: finding you."

Loki grins wickedly, all too pleased at the idea that Tony had to ask him for a favor. That doesn't bode well, Peter thinks they should keep an eye on that.

"And here I am." He gestures towards the city. "In this dilapidated, disgusting city. You know, I could appreciate the pure chaos that this city exudes, but… There is something nasty about it that I can not bear to look at."

Peter wonders if the God would be able to sense if Gotham is alive, like so many Gothamites say it is. Sometimes, Peter believes them.

"…Tony was looking for me?"

Loki turns back to stare at Peter, now, his brow furrowed and his eyes calculating. "You thought he was not?"

Peter's face feels warm. "I just… I dunno, I thought he would, but-" He has no idea how to explain that he trusts Tony with his life, but he has a stupid parasite in his brain that tries to convince him otherwise.

"Searching for you is all that Stark is doing." Loki says, and Peter's chest feels light. "Again, doesn't matter. Ohnn arrives every few days into our home dimension, and before an Avenger is able to catch him, he makes his way back here-"

"It's the same for me. I get just close enough and then he jumps away." Peter clenches his fist, realizing that… It wasn't just him, after all. His mentors were struggling to catch Ohnn as well.

"Yes, yes, I figured as such, since you had not arrived back to the dimension you belong in." Loki waves Peter's interruption off, and Peter wonders if he's just getting lucky that Loki isn't annoyed with him yet. "Well, Thor asked me for a favor, and here I am."

"You came to-"

"Get you? No." Loki's words make Peter snap his mouth shut, and he glances away from the god. "Why are you making that face? If I could just simply grab you and go, I would. If I tried to bring you back on the path that I take, your entire body would turn to dust for good."

"…Oh…" Peter nods slowly.

"The first matter we had to overcome was that you had been out of your school for two weeks. Stark had told your teachers you contracted a 'cold' and to prevent you from infecting your fellow students, you would take your classwork at home and rest." Loki explains.

"Wait, what about-"

"Your teachers accepted this, but now it has been two weeks. Stark could not send you back, as you were not there, and I was told that if you did not return, that is when people would start getting suspicious. Maybe assume that they should take you away."

Peter's voice is gone, his entire body growing cold not from the night air, but from anxiety welling up inside him. No, not anxiety. Fear.

"They can't take me from Tony-"

Loki ignores him again. "Of course, I granted them another benevolent favor. A quick conversation with your little friend and a snap of my fingers, and my illusion magic has that covered."

It's his turn to stare at Loki. He waits for Loki to start talking over him again, but it appears Loki is waiting for his question this time.

"…You spoke to Ned? Is he-"

"Also beside himself with worry about his friend? Yes." Loki interrupts, and Peter thinks he should have expected that. Any irritation with that is washed away as he thinks about Ned, and how scared he must be that Peter just disappeared like that. And now Ned is-

"Illusion?"

Loki grins- no, it's more like… the way a fox grins when it gets away with something. Peter can't find it in him to be anything but grateful. "An illusion of you, Spawn. It goes to school and interacts as you would, based on the rather thorough schedule and list of habits your friend gave me. We gave it a test run for the last week, and all is running smoothly. Not a single soul has suspected that any issues are underfoot."

Peter's mouth presses into a thin line, relief hitting him so hard he almost reaches to sit down. He suppresses a sniffle, instead saying, "Thank you so much, Mister Loki. I-I-"

"No sappy ideas, Spider." Loki crosses his arms, and Peter nods numbly. "The Avengers will owe me a rather huge favor for all of this."

"So this is why it's taken so long?"

"The illusion does not last if I am not in the dimension. It is currently 4AM in your universe- time is tricky, when crossing planes- and I will have to be back soon. However, I assumed it was time to let you know what is happening in our dimension."

Home… Home is safe, for now. In a way. Ohnn is attacking them, but they aren't dead, or dying, or injured. And no one is planning to take Peter away from Tony-

unless he wants you gone after this

-and Tony is looking for him. Tony is still looking for him. He still cares that Peter is safe and healthy.

"So… "

"So, until they can get their hands on Ohnn, or until you are able to get back to your universe, I am the go-between. I will come when I can to check on your 'well being'-" Peter supposes the words are for- "-lest Stark have my head for not mentioning it, and also relaying information from our side. Now, tell me."

Loki snaps his fingers, and makes a spinning motion. Peter stands there dumbly, and Loki does it again. This time, Peter spins, and Loki hums. "No injuries? No sickness? Be thorough, otherwise, the messenger will be shot."

"No injuries right now."

"Right now?"

Peter chews his bottom lip. It certainly does feel like Tony is here right now, drilling him about his health, and he thinks Loki must have gotten so much of an earful that Tony is inside his head right now.

"I got a… few, little injuries…?" Peter grimaces. "You don't have to tell Tony that-"

"I will not hear the end of it unless I do, and I would rather protect my peace of mind than yours. No hard feelings, tell me now."

Peter huffs with frustration. "The initial attack gave me some bruising, but it went away after a good meal-"

"Let us try again. I need more detail than that."

Peter's jaw drops. "What, like a medical report?"

Loki hums, tilting his head in consideration. "Yes. And all about your living situation, as well, no details left out. Potts was certain she would kill me if I did not pry that information out of you."

He half wonders if he should be annoyed. But instead, it's just the same feeling as usual. Peter feels warm, knowing that Tony was worried. Knowing that the others are worried about him, and waiting for him to come home.

So, he tells Loki.

He tells him as much as he can, maybe exaggerating the more fun details. He tells them more about Spider-Man, and the vigilantes that are helping him out. He does mention that the vigilantes have no idea Peter and Spider-Man are the same person, but he slides right over that detail fast enough that Loki doesn't press him on it.

And when Loki leaves, Peter feels a weight lifted off of his chest. And he is left with a promise that the god would return at some point.

Peter returns to his room, and he doesn't go back out as Spider-Man. He gets some actual rest, and he doesn't dream about anyone.

Bruce drag a hand down his face. "Robin, are you sure?"

"I have no frivolous doubts, and I wouldn't make this up." Damian crosses his arms, his cape flipping with a gust of wind. They're both standing over the scene of the crime, watching as first responders pack up the victims of this rage.

Two-Face had managed to get away. Again. They had tracked him here, to the Upper East End, after hearing talk about his movements through their informants. When they got to this bar, they found that twelve people had been shot, after Two-Face had gone into a rant- something to do with the mayor.

He's angry about the prosecutors on the case, claiming that they had been given everything they needed to put away his murderer. But they had ultimately failed to find enough evidence, and the accused assassin, Deus Johnson, got off of all charges.

Bruce knows that is was Deus, they all do. It was just a matter of proving that to a court, and in the end, they had gotten the evidence they needed only after Deus had gotten off. And because it would lead to a double jeopardy if they tried, they were forced to back off. The prosecutors panicked at the public outcry- because for once, a mayor had been decent enough to be liked- and they rushed the case.

And now, Damian decides to bring up not Two-Face, but Spiderman.

Damian, as much as he distrusts Peter, has been stuck on Spiderman since the boy showed up on their radar. He isn't to be trusted either, but Damian had been overcome with respect because, as Damian puts it, he's never seen someone use so many methods of training in one fight so seamlessly.

It would have put a damper on Bruce's pride, if he was a younger man.

Needless to say, Damian had been studying the video of Spiderman to assess his threat level, and in turn, had forced himself into Tim's case on him. The two of them are now both looking for Spiderman together, and a year ago, this would have been a cause for concern. Now, it's a relief that the two of them want to share or work together at all.

"Spiderman being an assassin only reinforces that we can not trust him." Bruce reminds Damian, who pauses. "He could be with the Council of Spiders."

"I was trained by assassins as well." Damian's voice is flat. Bruce hadn't noticed the distance between them had grown during the conversation, but Damian had taken a step backward, then two. He pretends to focus down on the scene below. "I am merely suggesting that Spiderman has trained with one, or others. Not that he is an assassin."

Bruce takes a deep breath. He misspoke just now, like he always does.

He hadn't meant to imply…

There was a year that Bruce missed. He wasn't there to help Damian grow into who he is now. Bruce had left a son that was still eager to spill blood and claim his spot as Robin. And when he got back, Damian and become a Robin trained under Dick as Batman, and Damian was regretful of how he had been introduced to his family.

It's still a rocky relationship, despite the fact that Bruce has been back for a while now.

Because he came back to everyone in different places. Tim was his Robin, when he left. And now Tim was forced to spread his wings and find his own place to fly. When Bruce turns to his partner, sometimes, he still expects to see Tim. And he'll be surprised to see Damian in Tim's place.

It felt all too familiar of the period of time when he would turn to look for Jason, and see Tim. Only this time, Bruce had been the one to die.

All of this… it's an adjustment that Bruce is trying to make. That he feels he falls short on, despite wanting to make it better. If he puts his foot in his mouth, if he fails to amend problems before they drive his kids away… He'll never forgive himself.

"Robin, I trust you. Not just for your judgment, or training. But because you have a good heart." Bruce closes the distance to put a hand on Damian's shoulder. Damian tears his eyes away from the scene below, looking up at Bruce. He wishes that he could see underneath Damian's mask at the moment, he wishes to understand what his kid is feeling. "I didn't mean to imply that wasn't the case."

"You don't trust Spiderman."

"I haven't been given a reason to." Bruce says. "He's a young child, but if what you saw was true, and I believe you're right, then Spiderman could be an enemy. If he's with the Council of Spiders and we trusted him blindly, that could cost us a lot. It could cost me you, or the others."

Damian's lips press into a line, and he takes an impatient breath. "I understand that. Do you think that Peter is involved in this as well, then?"

Bruce sighs, wanting to admit that he has a lot of theories about Peter. "It isn't impossible. But we still have to look into that before we make any decisions. If Spiderman is with the Council, and they're after Ohnn, then that could mean that Peter is in far more danger than we realized at first."

"Tony and Ohnn are wrapped up in the Council together?"

"Or Ohnn is wrapped up in them, and when he went after Tony, it directed the Council their way. We'll have to look into what the Council have been doing lately, see if anyone has been keeping tabs on them."

"Red Robin could do it." Damian suggests confidently. "He had mentioned looking into their files on the computer a few months ago and needing to update them. He might know more about that."

Bruce's chest feels warm, watching Damian as he presses his ear to his comms to talk to Tim. A year ago, this same kid would have refused to work with Tim, blatantly insulted or insinuated that Tim would not be helpful or have any information worthwhile. And now, he's trusting Tim…

He sincerely wishes he had gotten to see this transformation. He wishes he knew more about the time that he was away, that he hadn't had to play catch up all this time. But a huge part of Bruce knows that this wouldn't have happened the way it did if he had been there. He often burns what he touches.

"Nightwing?" Damian's brow furrows immediately. Bruce switches on his own comms as soon as he hears that Dick is on comms. "You're supposed to be asleep."

"I had something on my mind."

"What is it?" Bruce feels a flicker of worry. Dick being as exhausted as he is, it must be important if it kept him up and made him leave the Manor.

There's a beat of silence on Dick's end, then a hum of amusement. "It's settled now. Are you yelling at me to go to sleep, or can I tag along on the Two-Face thing? I might as well, considering it's only an hour until we should get back anyway."

Bruce can already see Damian about to retort that they can do it themselves, as his shoulders bristle with worry for his brother that he covers with defiance. But Bruce beats him to it. "Two-Face is done here. We're going to try and tail his movements from here, but I imagine he's done for the night."

"What's he so mad about this time?" Nightwing asks. "Have we figured that out yet?"

"The assassination of the mayor. He's upset the prosecutors rushed the case and Deus got away."

"Ah, the good old 'Justice and strange moral codes' shtick again."

It took Peter waking up on the second day to fully process Loki's visit. Yesterday felt like walking in a dream, and he was convinced that he'd wake up at any second to find out that Loki had never visited at all. He spent the day indoors, pacing around his room or playing with Little Legs.

When he woke up this morning, he had finally understood it wasn't a dream. And thus, Peter was struck with reality.

He's satisfied for now about Tony, Pepper, and everyone else worrying about him.

Well, 'satisfied' isn't the way he should put that, but whatever. What he worries about most is Ned.

Ned is his best friend, and not a day goes by where Peter doesn't think about how much Ned would love this place. No, not love. He'd be terrified of Gotham. Peter means, like, an alternate reality.

Even this small room would be enough for Ned to talk about. He'd have started making a list by now of all of the differences between their worlds. He would have followed up on Eugene Thompson, saying, "Peter, this is our chance. If we take a picture of his dad doing something embarrassing in this universe, just imagine showing Flash and watching his face go white."

Not to mention the vigilantes.

"Do you think Batman is secretly a meta? Why else would he choose a bat for his symbol, and did you read that the guy is able to sneak into the shadows? What if he has echolocation and that's why he didn't put it in his suit? And these Robins, dude! The bo-staff that they use to fight with? Nightwing's costume is sick, you should use it as inspo for your next suit, because obviously Mr. Stark is gonna make you a new suit, like, any day now. And-"

Peter's heart twists in his chest, missing his friend so dearly right now that it hurts. Ned is his best friend, and Peter thinks the world of him already. Learning that Ned was helping out with his disappearance meant a lot to Peter. But…

He's literally playing house with an Illusion Peter right now. He has to wonder how difficult it is- like, emotionally and literally. What if the Illusion Peter doesn't eat properly, or like, at all? Or what if it's going around telling people that Peter is Spider-Man? Or… well, Ned would stop those, even if Loki's illusion magic managed to not be perfect. He's a god, after all.

What must be more difficult is hanging out with a puppet of his friend. Illusion Peter can't offer moral support, can he?

What if Ned likes the fake one better?

Don't be stupid, Peter argues. If there's anyone in the world that Peter can be sure would miss Peter the way Peter misses him, it's his best friend.

Ned is just… he's one of the best people that Peter knows. He cares so deeply about everything, and he gets so passionate about the things he loves, that it's hard not to notice when he cares about Peter, or his friends in general. Peter might have insecurities, but he can't argue against cold, hard fact.

Because of his longing to talk to Ned, Peter attempts to think of anything that he could do to feel connected to him, somehow. When he misses Tony, he starts building stuff or working on the Jumping Radar. When he misses Pepper, he plays their word game of association. When he misses Happy, he pretends to bother someone.

Usually, when he misses Ned, he starts going through all of their favorite media together in his mind and thinks about what he could be missing, or just recounting the events. Star Wars, Doctor Who, One Punch Man, One Piece, Fairy Tail, Brooklynn Nine-Nine…

But today, it's mostly just Ned's favorite media that pop into Peter's mind, and he tries to remember everything he can about them. Nightmare Before Christmas, Amulet series-

All That's Left In the World

That thought is what brought Peter to stand in front of the Gotham City Public Library again, for the first time in over a week. He stands at the bottom of the steps, pretty much glaring at the doors as if they'll tell him if it's safe or not.

His spider-sense disagrees with his insecurities. There's no danger to be detected here, nothing that screams he shouldn't go in. By all means, Peter shouldn't be worried. Not having an ID might make things difficult, but it isn't like Barbara is going to get mad at him for it. Last time, she had been very eager to help Peter find a book or two.

Because she wanted you to stick around. His mind reminds him.

Probably for a good reason. He says back.

Yeah, last time he was here… it was pretty awkward. Barbara had been intent on trying to get Peter to stay, and he ran for it. He has no idea why, and that bothers him. He fully intended to never come back.

But… he knows this library. He doesn't want to risk another.

And he really misses Ned, and right now all he can think about is reading something that Ned likes so he can feel like he knows Ned better. Or that Ned is right there with him. He had seen Ned reading this book plenty of times, it's his favorite one ever. Peter had asked before what it was about, and Ned sort of skirted around it. Now's his chance to actually sit down and read it, and he can talk to Ned about his favorite book, because he knows that Ned hadn't talked about it with anyone else.

So, Peter sucks it up. If it becomes an issue, Peter will just run away. Again.

His stomach grows queasy and his hands are sweaty when he climbs the stairs and opens the door, a tiny voice in his head telling him to go back. Peter makes it be quiet by pretending to squish it to death with a conically large hammer.

He regrets that decision as soon as he looks inside. He'd wonder if it's too late to revive the voice, but that thing is a like a damn cockroach. Unkillable.

Barbara is not in her office as usual, and is instead at the reception desk scanning books. Chatting away to her- or, really, pacing the room and talking at her a little too fast for Peter to make sense of- is the man that was here last time, Dick Gray-

Grayson.

Peter almost wacks himself in the head. That's why he suddenly remembered his dad's first last name, before he was adopted. It was Grayson- just like this guy. This is going to be extremely awkward if it gets brought up. More than it already was. Stupid!

He peeks to the right of the library, towards the young adult section. He could sneak past, maybe?

Wrong.

It would be hilarious that Peter can sneak around Gotham and hide in plain sight in front if Batman and his Robins, but he can't hide at a damn library in broad light, if he wasn't so annoyed at the predicament. It takes him all of two steps before he's spotted. Barbara- who had mostly been ignoring Dick as he rambles about his brother getting on his case for going out late- spots him. His spider-sense disagrees with Peter that this is a bad thing.

we know her! know! hello!

"Peter!" Her eyes widen. Dick stumbles on his foot mid pace, blinking over his shoulder in surprise. "Hey, you're back!"

"….Hi." Peter ignores that his stomach has only gotten worse upon being spotted. He hopes it doesn't show.

"I was worried that Dick scared you off." Barbara mutters, and it's low enough that Peter could ignore it, if he wanted to. He wants to. So he ignores it. "Are you here to check out a book? Need any help?"

"I-I am," He notes that Barbara has a victorious gleam in her eyes. "B-but I'm okay. I can find it."

His voice comes out softer than he wants it to, and he's deliberately ignoring Dick as best he can. The guy is glancing at him while leaning on the reception desk and trying not to make it obvious, and Peter is suspicious that it could be the 'might need CPS' stare.

Sweating under their gaze, he hurries away before Barbara can insist on helping, ducking into the sci-fi YA section like it's his home base. He decides that even better than looking at the front, where they could probably still see him, he'll check the back first.

A sigh escapes him as he crouches down at the bottom shelf, totally not pouting that he got caught. Well, he wasn't gonna steal the book. He was going to try and check out anyway. But he was hoping that he'd get to work his way up to seeing Barbara, and even then, he hadn't expected Dick to be here too.

The book he's looking for might not even be here. It's an alternate universe, after all. That's why he didn't want to accept Barbara's help, just yet. Because what if he asks for this book specifically, and she looks at him like he's crazy? Then he really will never come back. Also, he's feeling immensely guilty that he might leave this universe before he can return the book, and leave Barbara thinking he's a jerk of a kid who steals books.

In an attempt to still his nerves, Peter cranes his ears to listen to Barbara and Dick talking to each other, hoping they aren't whispering about calling CPS on him.

"-really think it was because of that?"

"It had to be. He's reaching out, trying to make connections."

It doesn't sound like they're talking about him. He lets out a breath of relief, and begins actually searching for the book he wants. He stumbles across a few books that look interesting, but he figures he'll stick with the potential of the library losing one copy of a book, not multiples.

Thankfully, it doesn't take long to find the one. All That's Left In the World sits in Peter's hands, sort of a short read, and looking the opposite of how Ned had kept his personal copy. The library's copy is clean cut, and when Peter opens the cover it crinkles as if it's never been opened before. Ned's had a lot more personality to it, filled with sticky notes, annotations, the cover practically falling apart because he's read it that many times. Their classmate, Liz, had once told Ned he's a disgrace to book lovers because of how he treats the book, but Ned proclaims that it's his personal copy, he'll do what he wants.

Peter grins down at the copy in his hands, his chest feeling warm like it always does when he thinks of Ned. Hopefully, the book isn't entirely different because it's in an alternate universe, and he can finally talk to Ned about it.

Now… the hard part.

He peeks around the corner of the bookshelf. Dick and Barbara are still talking to each other, Dick leaning in the counter still and Barbara shuffling to grab something on her desk. His entire body shakes with anxiety, despite everything telling him it's okay.

His spider-sense, his own mind- and even that voice in his head are silent. Maybe because it senses Peter is freaking out perfectly well on his own, without its assistance or because Peter beat it with the comically large thought hammer earlier. But it's quiet, nonetheless. By all means, checking out a damn book shouldn't be hard at all. He's done it a bajillion times.

He gulps and looks back down at the book, this time at the excerpts on the back. A single quote stares back at him in particular.

"'We're going to be okay,' I repeated to him.

If things get hard again, I'll carry him. And he'll carry me. And we'll be okay."

Right. This is about Ned, and that is worth the risk. Ned is always worth the risk.

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he walks over to the checkout. His face feels a little numb. But he's doing it. So, points to him. Dick grins over his shoulder, but is checking his phone when Peter gets there, and Barbara grins up at him with a bright, I-Didn't-Call-CPS-On-You look.

"This all you getting, Pete?"

"Yeah," Peter taps the desk as Barbara takes the book. "I-I don't have a card…"

"Let's get you one, then." She doesn't mention an ID- in fact, the sign that said he needed one to get a card is gone now- and instead starts asking him questions. "Full name?"

"P-Peter Grayson." He cringes because he can't change it now, and he tries not to glance at Dick. His attention is pulled towards the older man anyway.

"Hey, name buddies." Dick smiles at him, setting his phone down.

Peter doesn't reply.

"Date of birth?"

"8/10" Peter mutters, ignoring Dick's smile growing awkward from the corner of his eye. He just waits for the inevitable blow asking for his mailing address, an email, postal code (he has no idea), or-

"Okie dokie," Barbara reaches for a drawer. Peter blinks at her. "Hey, this time, I have something other than peppermint. How do you feel about M&M's?"

That's it?

Don't look a gift horse in the mouth!

"They're good." He feels like something just happened here, but he doesn't want to say anything about it. Technically, his last card in his home universe had been from when he still lived with Ben, and no one ever thought to check it out. He always returned books on time.

Dick slides over the bowl of packaged M&M's, and Peter takes one out. Barbara is checking the book out with no problem, but he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. It's going deceptively well, and that never happens.

"Is this a book for school?" Dick asks.

Peter shakes his head.

"Ah, cool." Dick winces, clearing his throat. "Just for fun, then?"

Peter decides to put him out of his misery.

"My friend likes it." He replies, and Dick's shoulders release some tension. Why is he nervous? "I'm reading it to surprise him."

"That's sweet of you." Barbara hands him the book, and Peter almost takes it and runs. "I think my friend read this one too, she said it was great."

"Y-Yeah. My friend's copy looks like a personal journal, so I think it's good. He has good taste." Peter wants to shoot himself in the mouth, because why does regular conversation feel so weird? He should leave-

…?

Peter turns his head to the door just in time to see the coolest dude ever walk in.

He's about as tall as Dick with messy black hair, a white streak at his forehead. He has a few piercings in his ears and a silver necklace with a scythe design. He has heavy black boots, black motorcycle gloves on his hands and a red motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm. He's wearing a black graphic sweatshirt with a school Peter doesn't know the name of on the chest and wrapped around one arm, and he has dark green cargo pants on that has a chain on the beltloops.

Cool…

cool!

"Hey, Blue, why the hell are you ignoring my texts? I finally get around to texting you first and you decide 'nah, I think I'll make him fucking wait.' What's up with that?" The guy complains. It's when he's tucking his phone away into his pants pocket that he sees Peter and slows down. "Oh. Hey."

Peter grins awkwardly, waving back. He senses movement behind him and glances back at Dick, who clumsily leans back against the counter and presses his lips together in a tense smile at Peter.

Okay…

"Geez, a little warning there's a kid around would have been nice. Sorry for my language." The new guy sets his helmet on the counter, and Peter's eyes follow it. He's always wanted a motorcycle, but the dream was crushed when Tony said he'd destroy it if Peter got one. Something about them not being safe at all.

"I'm a teenager, not a kid." Peter mutters, wondering why it bothered him more than usual. Maybe 'cause the guy is cool.

Cool Guy smirks, holding out his hand. "Alright, Teenager. Name's Jason."

"Peter." He shakes Jason's hand, making sure the grip isn't wimpy. "I like your helmet."

Indeed, now that he's closer, Peter can see the design on it much better. It's subtle, only noticeable if you're close, but there's a thorn design wrapping around it that shines red-ish in the light. Jason's smirk grows wider.

"Thanks, kid. I have another one outside with a skull. I usually make Dick wear the one I made for our sisters, though. It's the only one that fits his head."

"What? My head isn't small."

Peter chuckles, clutching the book in hand and wondering if now is the time to leave. But Jason keeps talking, and he doesn't want to go without saying goodbye to Barbara, at least.

"You," Jason points at Dick. "-have been ignoring my texts."

"I wasn't ignoring them. I was taking my time to reply."

"Hey, kid." Jason pats Peter's shoulder. "Do you know how many hours of sleep someone is supposed to get?"

"7 to 9 hours a night for adults, 10 for teenagers." Peter replies automatically.

"7 to 9 hours." Jason repeats, pointing at Dick. "And you got- wait, 10 hours?"

He turns back to Peter to explain. It takes a second for peter to realize that's what he wanted.

"Kids 6 through 12 years should sleep on average 9 to 12 hours, and teenagers aged 13 to 18 should sleep 8 to 10 hours, but it's highly recommended for 10. But school opens up earlier for teenagers, and adding extracurricular activities and homework means that average teenager gets 6 to 7 hours instead."

"Well, shit, I didn't know that." Jason's brow furrows, turning back to Dick. "Is Tim getting that much sleep?"

"Definitely not. He power naps any and everywhere, but that doesn't mean he's sleeping enough." Dick grows concerned. "Should we tell Bruce or Alfred? Don't they know?"

"He might kill us if we do that." Jason says this as if it's a serious threat, not just a metaphor. "Also, why the fuck would I tell Bruce anything?"

Wait.

Tim? Bruce?

Peter glances between the two of them as they talk, the names dancing around his head. It isn't until he hears: "Steph might be the only one who can right now, 'cause Tim is terrified of her." that it clicks in his head.

Tim and Stephanie- Tim is Jason and Dick's brother. The one he met at the school and at the hardware store. Coupon himself. Stephanie mentioned a rich dad for Duke and Tim, a man now called Bruce. Bruce. As in, the only rich person he's heard of named Bruce in this town, so far, is Bruce Wayne.

The billionaire.

And unless there are other rich Bruces in Gotham, Peter is going to say that this is Bruce Wayne that they're talking about. Nightwing mentioned that Bruce Wayne has a son with the last name Grayson.

As in. Dick Grayson.

He looks at Barbara, who is looking at him. Neither of the brothers have noticed. But Barbara- her face screams that she knows what he's thinking. That she must be able to read minds, or something of that nature, because she knows Peter just made a connection to something.

"Um, thanks, Miss Barbara." Peter says, swiftly pocketing the M&M's into his pocket. "But I gotta get back to work now."

"W-Wait, Pete, do you want any more M&M's? You know no one ever really comes by, and you can take as many as you want-"

"I'm good. Bye!"

Peter is out that door in seconds, leaving behind two bewildered adults and one who might think he's caught on.

Because- well. Peter thought Tim is Red Robin. That Stephanie is Spoiler. That Duke is Signal. And if he's right, Peter isn't just being stalked by Red Robin out of costume.

His gut twists with anxiety, clutching the book in his hands and feeling like the world is both falling into place and falling apart. If he's right, then Dick Grayson is Nightwing. And Jason is Red Hood.

And they know. They knew the whole time.

And obviously, Peter shouldn't be mad about that. He isn't mad about it. He of all people can't be mad about secret identities. That's the name of the game, unless you don't get a choice.

It's just that… Peter put his trust into Nightwing, thinking that he'd never see the man's face. But he did.

They were getting far closer than Peter realized. The world feels like it's about to give out from under him.