Peter quickly realized that Bruce Wayne working from home meant that Peter would not be able to find that secret room underneath the Manor, and that thought made him frown. He would need to wait around, but he got the feeling that the billionaire wouldn't mind that all too much if Peter stayed longer.
When Alfred proposed showing Peter the room he'll be staying in, he leapt at the opportunity of some alone time. He let the butler lead him on a semi-familiar route upstairs down two turns and through an archway.
He was delighted to find out that he would be staying in the same room that he had showered in. This just meant that there would be no need for retrieving his suit since it was already in the room.
"Are you sure this is a guest room? It's so big!" Peter proclaimed, throwing his arms up and falling back against the sheets with a snicker.
Alfred chuckled, standing in the door and folding his hands behind his back. "Yes, Peter, this is a guest room. It is the same size as every other bedroom in the Manor."
" Really? " he asked, lifting his head to stare with wide eyes. Apparently his expression was something amusing, because Alfred's chuckling continued for another moment.
" Yes , Peter. Each bedroom is the same size. In fact, most of the rooms are about the same size." Alfred confirmed, stepping into the room and glancing around. "I know it seems bland, but I'm sure that the longer you're staying with us the more personality it will gain."
Peter nodded in agreement, following Alfred's gaze. Part of him was curious to see the other occupied bedrooms in the Manor- how different were they? Did they have colorfully painted walls, or maybe posters that covered every surface? Did Bruce have the same colored curtains as Peter did?
Peter frowned for a split second, shaking his head. This wasn't his room. He was merely borrowing it for however long the Wayne's decided to keep him around.
"If you should need anything, young Peter, do not hesitate to come looking for me." Alfred assured, nodding to the teen before stepping out of the room and gently shutting the door.
Peter got off of the bed, stretching his arms upwards and smiling when he felt his side getting better. He was sure that by the end of the night the raised pink scars would only be a memory.
"You're in a good mood."
"Pff, yes Karen, thank you for stating the obvious." the teen rolled his eyes, smiling a little bit. He approached the window, tugging it open and sticking his head out in the cold Jersey air. It was only early April, pretty soon things would get warmer. For now he would let the cool, natural breeze condition his room.
"So, what's the plan now?"
"Are you asking me what you should do next?"
"Obviously." Peter snorted.
"It seems as if you've found a reliable source of food, shelter, water, and financial support. I suggest keeping the Wayne family close, they could be beneficial allies in the long-run."
Peter frowned, stepping away from the window and slowly pacing the room to keep his feet moving. That wasn't the answer that he wanted. He had almost hoped that Karen would tell him to leave.
But she wanted for him to trust this family, clearly. Karen had never led him astray before, and in every case, her guidance had directed him toward success.
As he paced, he carefully walked up the wall, making sure to keep his footsteps quiet so as to not alert anyone. He doubted that Alfred or Bruce would hear considering the size of the house. In no time, he was walking loops in the room, going from wall to ceiling to wall to floor in a repetitive cycle.
"...Do you think there's any chance of me going home anytime soon?" Peter asked, and despite the hope in his voice, he already knew the answer. "Do a study on this universe's technology."
"I've already done one. Would you like to hear what I found?"
"Please."
Peter ended up sitting criss-cross on the ceiling of his room, hands comfortably held underneath his thighs. Sure, the blood rushed to his head, but he could handle it. Altered gravity was something that his spider quirks helped him deal with.
What Karen had told him was not pleasing. Judging by the technology available in the universe, the odds of him creating his own way home weren't likely. He would need help from the universe's heroes.
The only plan that he could think of to gain the trust of said heroes was to take up the role of Spider-man once more.
But Peter didn't feel ready. The thought of donning the suit and swinging through a city made him uncomfortable and nauseous. The last time he was Spider-man, he died in the arms of his mentor.
Not only that, but he did not feel worthy. Peter had let his people down. If what had happened to him happened to half of the Earth, then the odds of Queens surviving were slim. He had failed to protect them, so who's to say he wouldn't fail here, too?
"With great power comes great responsibility." The advice played in his mind like a mantra between his thoughts. Ben's voice felt so distant, like it had been left in the other universe.
Ben would want for him to continue to help people. May would, too. She would be so proud if she saw what good he could accomplish here in Gotham. The crime rates were harsher than he was used to, but his skill set was needed.
Batman, the Robins, Red Hood, and Nightwing, along with the rest of Gotham's vigilantes, seemed to be intently focused on the big things. Taking down reputable criminals, busting worldwide drug rings from the harbor, and putting the most dastardly villains into Arkham over and over again.
Who was looking out for the little guy? There were no friendly neighborhood heroes here. The closest thing seemed to be Nightwing, but he wasn't even based in Gotham. He only visited on occasion, maybe a few times a month if the city was lucky.
Peter noticed in his research on the city that Crime Alley was left mostly untouched by Gotham's bats. The one exception to this was Red Hood, but even he couldn't be everywhere at once in the cesspool of crime.
"I need more tech to fix up my suit, got any ideas?"
"I suggest reaching out to this universe's current heroes. Specifically, Batman has a large arsenal at his disposal. He is likely being funded by someone who is financially well. If you found yourself in a similar position as himself, then fixing the Iron Spider should come much easier."
"Perfect, I just gotta get a sugar daddy." he rolled his eyes sarcastically, allowing himself to drop from the ceiling. He landed in a handstand with bent elbows, and quickly turned onto his feet.
"Put it however you want, Peter."
He shivered, huffing. "Eugh, thanks for that visual, Karen." Peter frowned. While the conversation had been extremely useful, it hadn't provided the answers that he was wanting. Maybe he should be more open minded.
"Can you tell me where Mr. Pennyworth and Mr. Wayne are?" he asked, approaching his door and opening it carefully to avoid making the old wood creak.
"Alfred Pennyworth is located in the fourth floor library. Currently he appears to be organizing a shelf of books. Bruce Wayne is located in his first floor study."
"Cool. Think I can do some exploring then?"
"By all means. I'll guide you to any place of interest."
Peter smiled, stepping out of the room. Just as carefully as he had opened the door he closed it, looking around the hall. Karen provided directions, and for the next hour or two, Peter familiarized himself with the second and third floors of Wayne Manor.
The second floor consisted mostly of bedrooms both occupied and empty. Alfred was right: they were all the exact same size. Some had attached bathrooms, some did not, but they were all similarly stocked with generic hygiene products.
The first bedroom of interest that Peter came across was at the very end of a long hallway. The stickers on the wood were peeling and turning white from sunlight shining through a large window. Peter smiled as he recognized one being the Batman logo. Cute.
When he stepped inside he was greeted by more dust than he had been expecting. There was a bed with deep red blankets and deflated white pillows that were coated in a thick layer of aged dust. Posters adorned the walls, and an equally dusty red rug sat underneath Peter's feet.
For Bruce to have so many kids, he hadn't expected to find a practically abandoned bedroom. It felt like a time capsule with a sense of nostalgia hanging in the air.
Peter kept his snooping to a minimum. He felt like he had stumbled across a sacred place. Disturbing the serene room just felt… wrong .
Leaving the room and shutting the door quietly behind himself felt like a breath of fresh air.
The next bedrooms were also decorated, but were much more lived in. One had deep blue sheets wrinkled in a pile at the end of the bed, like someone had gotten up in a rush. It had many acrobatic posters, but much more framed photos than the former.
Another bedroom was extremely purple. From the walls to the bathroom tiles, Peter could obviously tell what the inhabitant's favorite color was.
The rest of the occupied bedrooms were locked much to his dismay. Thankfully, Karen assured him that there was nothing of interest inside any of them. One of them did have lots of weapons though, which was a disturbing thought. Why did Bruce's kid need that many swords ? Why did they need any swords at all?
Peter must have lost track of time in his exploration, because by the time he was halfway snooping through a third floor ballroom, he could faintly hear the sound of the front door opening all the way down the stairs.
As he hesitantly approached the steps to start his descent, a warning went off on the back of his neck. Peter tingle, he thought to confirm his feelings.
"Three males and one female have just entered the Manor using the front door. One moment."
Peter kept his mouth a thin line, stepping down at a leisurely pace to give Karen time to respond before he would face these strangers. Purely based on the time, he made an educated guess at who they all were.
"Duke Thomas-Wayne, Timothy Drake-Wayne, Cassandra Cain, and Damian Wayne have all returned from school. Alfred Pennyworth is greeting them at the door. Bruce Wayne is preparing to leave his study."
"Thanks, Karen." he whispered softly, returning to a normal pace.
Meeting four out of seven Wayne children was not something that he felt prepared for. They were all the kids of a billionaire, and they lived lives of luxury. They never had to want or need anything.
The closer Peter got, the better that he could hear the carrying conversations in the echoing house.
"Bruce mentioned having a guest?" A deep yet bright male voice asked. Alfred had responded with some sort of confirmation. "Is he wandering around here somewhere?"
"I'd hope not. I expected for both you and father to keep a better eye on this stranger." A young voice- Peter guessed Damian- said, sounding rather displeased. "He should not be left to roam freely without the proper supervision. We do not know who he is, or where he came from."
"Master Damian, I ask for your patience regarding this one." Alfred responded with kindness and patience to the rather prickly child. By this point, Peter was starting his final descent to the main entryway. "I'm sure your father informed you of the full situation?"
"He told us minute details." Peter could hear Damian's frustrated frown. "I'd like to speak to this Peter ."
"Now now.." Alfred eased, followed by silence. A moment later he spoke again. "Lady Cassandra is correct, Master Damian. Young Peter's situation is fragile at best. We must remain patient and willing to move at his pace."
Peter faltered momentarily. How had he not heard Cassandra speak? Clearly Alfred had responded to her. Was his hearing actually messed up? Maybe wearing Karen in his ear was disrupting something.
"You should have seen him when I found him this morning rummaging through the bins." Alfred frowned with concern. "Poor boy could barely speak. I'm shocked that he agreed to even come inside."
"I wish he hadn't." Damian grumbled.
"Damian Wayne is heading toward the kitchen."
Peter let out a quiet sigh of relief through his nose. Purely based on that conversation that he wasn't supposed to hear, he could tell that the youngest Wayne didn't want him around. The older boy- either Tim or Duke- seemed curious and excited.
He couldn't get a read on Cassandra considering that he hadn't actually heard the girl talk. He was still confused about that. At least he would (hopefully) be getting answers within the next few minutes.
Peter stepped out onto the landing of the central grand staircase and hesitated, getting a good look at the three teens in the foyer.
The first one that he noticed was Cassandra Cain. Her skin was nearly paper white, and her narrow face was framed by layered black hair that dipped just below her chin. She had on black uniform pants and a monochrome Batman hoodie, along with a pair of surprisingly beat-up yellow converse. He had to assume that beneath that hoodie was a school uniform.
The second was a darker skinned male with a defined jaw and black hair in a burst fade. His school uniform was gray pressed pants and a navy blue sweater overtop a white button down with a blue and yellow striped tie. His clothes were the straightest of all three teens. His shoes, a pair of white forces, were also the cleanest of the three.
The final boy had fair skin and intense eye bags. His hair was choppy and black, and fell slightly in front of his eyes. He had on the exact same uniform as his brother (?) except much more wrinkled. The teen had on black converse that were somewhere between Cassandra's and the other boy's when it came to cleanliness. He was holding a thermos.
Alfred seemed to notice Peter as soon as he stepped into view, because he turned and faced him with a gentle smile. "Ah, young Peter. Your timing is excellent. Would you like to come and meet three of Master Bruce's children?"
When the other heads turned and all attention was on him, he remembered that he was in borrowed clothes in an unfamiliar home with his face littered in (slowly healing) bruises. He felt small , and almost embarrassed at the circumstance.
Preparing for judgment from who he assumed were rich stereotypes, he nodded and descended the grand staircase to stand with them all in the foyer.
"Young Peter, this is Master Tim, Master Duke, and Lady Cassandra." Alfred introduced the three, and Peter committed their names and faces to memory.
"It's nice to meet you three." Peter said, smiling at them with a sense of hesitance. He was already bracing.
Tim- the boy holding the thermos- stepped forward with a relaxed smile. "It's nice to meet you too, Peter." Peter didn't miss the way that Tim glanced up to his hair, locking onto the white streak for half a second. "Do you know how long you're staying?"
"I'm not sure, I guess however long it is until you guys kick me out." he chuckled a bit awkwardly, shoving his hands deep into the jean pockets. The clothes offered him no comfort.
Tim snorted and rolled his eyes, shoulders easing up. "Yeah, right. Bruce doesn't kick people out. You'll be fine here."
Suddenly Cassandra lifted her hands and started making enthusiastic motions, and Peter looked over with surprise. She was speaking sign language! No wonder he hadn't heard her.
Unfortunately, Peter did not speak sign.
Tim seemed to sense the dilemma immediately, and was quick to translate. "She said that she's happy to have another person around."
Cassandra smiled and gave Peter a thumbs up. He returned the favor with a small smile of his own.
Duke was the next to step forward and grab Peter's attention. "Peter, right? Where are you from?"
Figuring they must have clocked his non New Jersey accent he shrugged. "Queens. Guess I ended up on the wrong side of the river at some point." his smile turned sheepish at the half truth.
The other teen seemed satisfied with that answer, and his tone turned playful. "Ew, New York? Go home." he teased.
"Is everyone else coming home tonight?" Tim asked Alfred, and Peter pretended to not be listening while Duke and himself engaged in playful banter.
"Master Dick and Lady Stephanie should be arriving just before dinner. Master Jason has not confirmed whether or not he shall be home this week."
Peter almost faltered at that. Wasn't Jason dead? I read an article about him. Peter thought.
"What grade are you in?" Duke asked. Meanwhile, Cassandra disappeared down the same hallway that Damian had, likely headed to the kitchen as well.
"I was in eleventh before I crossed over." The teen said casually, and when Duke moved to follow Cassandra, he did the same.
Alfred and Tim's voices both became hushed the moment that the trio stepped out of the foyer, and Peter got an uncomfortable feeling that they were talking about him. Did they not believe his story? He would need to work harder.
"Hey, are you deaf?" Duke asked, looking at the false hearing aid tucked neatly behind Peter's ear.
The teen smiled, feigning embarrassment with a nod. "Partly. My mentor had this made for me when he found out."
"He sounds nice." Duke smiled. "Who was your mentor? Was it a similar situation to me and Bruce?"
Peter made a so-so motion with his head. "Sorta? I lived with my Aunt at the time, so it's not like I was taken in from the streets. I had an internship at his company for a while, and we grew pretty close. He sorta funded my schooling and my life for a little bit."
Thinking about Tony both hurt Peter's heart and made it swell with adoration. He really did look up to the man despite all of his misdoings. He had done so much for Peter, and was probably part of the reason that Peter was still alive after the battle on Titan.
The Iron Spider suit, despite sustaining damage, kept him protected in Gotham's contaminated waters. Karen had been essential to Peter blending in here.
Without Tony's gifts, Peter was sure that he wouldn't be standing in Wayne Manor.
"His name's Tony Stark." Peter finally answered Duke after returning from his thoughts. "I guess he's similar to Mr. Wayne? I haven't interacted with him enough to really tell."
Cassandra turned around to walk backwards and started signing again. Peter glanced unsurely to Duke.
"She says she's never heard of anyone named Tony Stark." Duke explained. "I haven't, either. Is he based in New York?"
"Partly. I guess you could say he's everywhere and nowhere at the same time." Peter worded it as a joke, but it was the only answer he was going to give the two.
If he could help it, no one here would figure out where he was really from. That felt like too much drama to put on these people.
His expectations about them had been wrong, and he mentally scolded himself for feeling so biased. Bruce had been helpful and so had Alfred. They didn't feel like rich stereotypes.
The trio entered the kitchen to find Damian sitting in the breakfast nook. He had a fancy black pen in his left hand, and papers were spread neatly across the surface. He barely cast them a glance when they came in, but Peter noticed a certain shift in his posture.
The kid became tenser- more reserved. He was preparing for a fight. Did he think Peter was going to attack him?
Okay, maybe his expectations hadn't been entirely wrong. So far, Damian was falling right into the rich kid stereotype.
"Damian, this is Peter." Duke said happily while Cassandra started grabbing fruit out of a bowl near the window.
"I am aware." Damian replied, not looking at Peter. His frown was deep. "If you plan to have a lively conversation, you should move to a different room. I'm doing homework, and I was here first."
Duke snickered, rolling his eyes. "Sure, sure. We won't be long. You thirsty, Peter?" He asked, pulling a few water bottles out of the fridge.
"I guess." he shrugged, staying near the doorway. Damian was obviously getting defensive, maybe even territorial. Entering any further felt like crossing no man's land.
"Cool, I'll grab you some water, then. Ever played Mario Kart?"
"How are you so good at this???" Duke groaned, falling back against the couch cushions in exasperation as Waluigi crossed into first place once more.
Peter laughed in victory, setting his controller down in his lap. Currently he was criss-cross on a soft gray rug situated in front of a long green couch in one of the many media rooms that the Manor had. Both Duke and Cassandra sat behind him on the couch with controllers of their own.
"Dude, gaming is in my blood . I've got a friend who taught me all of the shortcuts for the maps." Peter said smugly, looking up at Duke. "I got better than him and now he won't play with me."
"I can see why." Duke huffed, glaring at the screen. "I'm usually so good at this, too."
Cassandra signed.
"Yeah, well Dick isn't home yet. Whenever he's gone, I'm the best!"
Peter smiled, glancing between the two as a one-sided banter started up. Cassandra signed at the speed of light and Duke replied in earnest with playfully frustrated words.
He felt himself having fun. Duke, Cassandra, and Tim had all seemed to welcome him pretty instantly. Peter guessed they got it from their father, considering Bruce was practically the same way when he first met Peter earlier in the day.
"Alfred Pennyworth will enter the room in approximately one minute."
Peter's smile relaxed. Karen had adjusted her alert settings after earlier. Obviously he didn't respond to the robotic assistant in his ear, but he did appreciate the warning.
Just like she had said, Alfred stepped into the room with Tim trailing close behind, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand.
Mildly surprised at the caffeinated drink, Peter hid it by smiling over at the two. "Hi, Mr. Pennyworth."
"Please, young Peter. Just call me Alfred." the man sighed with a light chuckle, not actually upset.
"I will when you drop the young from my name. I'm sixteen , not a baby." Peter snickered from his spot on the rug.
Tim snorted at the interaction, rolling his eyes and shaking his head teasingly. "This battle won't ever end, y'know. You're both gonna end up in a stalemate."
"Then a stalemate it shall be, Master Tim." Alfred hummed in amusement, winking slyly. Peter snickered under his breath.
"Got room for a fourth? We can play until Dick and Steph get here?" Tim suggested, rounding the couch and falling between Duke and Cassandra.
Cassandra nodded in confirmation with a smile, and Duke sighed dramatically. "I suppose. Only if we team up against Peter, he's too good at this."
"Wh- hey! Don't team up against me! It's not my fault that I'm better than you." Peter complained, turning his attention toward the screen once more.
The four teens picked their characters (Peter was Waluigi, Duke was Princess Daisy, Tim was Rosalina, and Cassandra was Tanooki Mario) and started another grand prix.
Alfred stepped out after a few moments of fondly observing the game, listening to their competitive banter and light insults on how terrible of a driver Tim was.
The four got lost in the game, focusing on winding tracks, floating boxes of loot, and taking as many opportunities as possible to bump Peter off of the map.
Even with their combined assault on his character, he still managed to beat them for most of the games. At some point, Cassandra had gotten ahead and won, which had the girl rather excited. Peter couldn't find it in himself to feel butt hurt at that.
The one thing that Peter made sure was that Duke never got ahead of him. Teaming be damned, Peter would not let himself get beat by the self-proclaimed champion of the house.
"Wow, playing Mario Kart without me?" An unfamiliar voice asked from the threshold of the room, and Peter almost threw his controller in surprise. He was quick to whip his head around, staring with wide eyes at the new presence.
"Sorry for not saying anything, you were focused and I didn't want to interrupt you."
Karen apologized, but it fell on deaf ears.
"Richard Grayson-Wayne has arrived."
Richard- or Dick as his siblings had been calling him- was a tall and muscular man with tan skin and jet black hair that fell in a mullet just past his collarbones. He had on a navy blue button-down with black pressed pants. A utility belt with multiple pouches, a pair of handcuffs, and a holstered pistol sat on his hips. Peter didn't notice his shoes, and was more hung up on the fact that Dick was a police officer.
"Hey, Peter. I'm Dick." he greeted smoothly with a smile, crossing his arms and leaning casually against the frame of the archway. "B told me you were here earlier, so I figured I'd come by for dinner to meet you."
Peter swallowed nervously, a sharp tingle running up his spine and neck. Police officers didn't have the best record in his books.
"That's cool. It's nice to meet you, Dick." He forced himself to speak, smiling hesitantly. "...Duke says you're better at Mario Kart than him."
"Oh, I am."
"You're cheating." Dick blanched as Waluigi crossed the finish line once more. "You have to be cheating."
"Nope. It's just math and shortcuts." Peter snickered, looking over at Dick who had sat next to him on the rug. "You should brush up on your geometry." he teased.
"You were working out projectile equations while playing?" Tim asked, sounding skeptical.
"Yeah, that's how you can calculate turns, drifts, and bumping." he replied, looking at Tim with a shrug. "It's technically also trigonometry, and some physics tossed in there but you get the gist."
"Are you some kind of genius?" Tim snorted. "How can you calculate stuff that fast?"
Peter was not ready to admit to them that web slinging took lots of hasty calculations. He was also not ready for them to find out about the supercomputer in his ear.
"I'm just good at math." he shrugged once more. "I could try teaching you if you want, but it's really just based on how quickly you can memorize and calculate the basics."
"Can we stop talking about math?" Duke whined, and Cassandra nodded in agreement with a fake disgusted wince. "This is hurting my brain, and my ego is already hurt enough."
Peter, Dick, and Tim all laughed a bit at his dismay, but laid off of the mathematics for the remainder of the play time.
They didn't have long left though, because in no time, all of the Wayne kids got a notification and checked their phones. Peter assumed that it was a family group chat, and felt a harsh beat in his chest.
Getting a phone should be something he does. Part of him wondered if they were just as expensive here as they were back home.
"Dinner's ready. Steph's helping Alfie set the table." Dick said upon realizing that Peter hadn't gotten the same memo as them.
Peter 'oh'd' in understanding and stood up, following the group of siblings out of the media room and to the kitchen.
The first thing that they did in the space was wash their hands, each for a few seconds. Peter was admittedly a bit unfamiliar with the routine- but as to not seem like a poor guest, he followed where they led and was the last to scrub up. He didn't like the way that his hands felt so dry afterwards.
They didn't linger much longer in the kitchen, only staying for everyone to grab a drink. While Tim grabbed more coffee from a pot, and Dick poured himself a glass of juice, Peter settled quietly for water.
He already felt selfish taking up space in their home, clothes, and lives. The least he could do was not take their drinks.
Duke led the group across the hall and into a large dining room that Peter hadn't seen yet. The table was a long piece of dark wood that was polished to perfection. Rows of chairs lined each side, with one on either end of the table as well in the same color of wood. Each seat had a gray cushion centered on the wood.
Bruce Wayne had already taken his spot at the head of the table. Dick found himself at his father's left, with Damian sitting across from him on Bruce's right. Next to Dick, Tim settled in, and next to him, a girl with long blonde hair pinned back into a messy bun was scrolling through her phone. Beside Damian, Cassandra sat quietly with Duke on her other side.
Peter suddenly felt very out of place. This was very much a family dinner, and he wasn't sure he should even be there in the first place.
"Peter, you can have a seat wherever." Bruce said with a smile. Still feeling unsure, Peter walked to the right of the table and sat next to Duke, pulling the chair close so that he could rest his arms on the table.
"Stephanie, have you met Peter yet?" Bruce asked, pulling the girl from her phone. She glanced up, pausing when she spotted the new teen.
Peter offered a small wave and smile. She set her phone down after a second and smiled back.
"No, I haven't. It's nice to meet you Peter." Her voice was sweet, and purely based on her purple sweater and nail polish, he had an educated guess on which bedroom was her's.
"Nice to meet you too, Stephanie."
"Quit being formal, Pete." Tim rolled his eyes playfully. "We aren't gonna banish you for being casual."
Peter just nodded, glancing down at the table. Bruce sighed from his seat, looking at the kids carefully while Alfred brought out different platters of food.
Peter shouldn't have been surprised at the quality or amount of food that Alfred had prepared. The omelets earlier had been heavenly, and he was positive that the steaks being brought out would be just as great if not better.
Once everyone was served, no one hesitated to dig in. Peter ate slowly, watching the table with calculating eyes. They were all relaxed, paying him no wary glances or sideways looks. They were treating him like his presence was normal.
He felt normal, and he had been here for less than a day.
"Your heart rate is increasing, Peter. I suggest breathing deeply to mitigate this."
He wanted to tell Karen off, but he bit the inside of his cheek. Talking to himself would just weird the family out.
"You're feeling unsure because you do not want to intrude on the family. That train of thought is irrational, Peter. They have invited you into their home with open arms."
Peter wanted to shout at her, but he did not.
"Please take a few deep breaths. I'd like for you to try understanding that they are going to help you."
Shut up, he thought bitterly. He felt something stinging at his eyes, but he refused to acknowledge it. Instead, he just blinked hard to make the wetness go away.
"The Wayne family is good, Peter."
Stop talking, he mentally pleaded. If only Karen was a mind reader.
"Pete? You okay?" Tim asked, voice breaking Peter out of his mental dilemma. He looked up from his half eaten plate, only to find eight sets of eyes looking at him with either concern or suspicion.
Peter swallowed harshly. "..yeah, just overwhelmed." he replied, for once feeling as honest as he could get with this family. "..this is a lot."
Something around the table softened. Cassandra and Dick both shared a glance. Bruce found a deep frown forming on his face, eyes shining with gentle guilt.
"If you need to step out, then you can, Peter." The head of the household said in a soft voice. "I can have Alfred take you to get some fresh air?" he offered.
"No, no I'm okay." Peter rushed to say, having to swallow down a tightness in his throat. "I'll be alright. I'm just not.." he struggled to find the right words.
"..you're not used to dinners like this." Tim finished for him, a sense of understanding in his voice. "...c'mon, let's get some air. I need to stretch my legs anyways." Tim stood up with a smile, motioning for Peter to follow.
The teen frowned, but did as instructed and stood up, leaving the dining room with a glance back towards the rest of the family.
Tim and Peter walked together to the nearest outside door and walked out onto a veined stone porch. The setting sun gave the entire yard a warm vermillion glow, and a gentle breeze pushed Peter's hair back.
He quietly admitted in his mind that stepping out was a good idea. He needed this, and was just glad that this family was more insistent than he was stubborn.
Tim stepped forward and leaned on the railing of the porch, sighing in relief and looking out at the horizon of Gotham. Peter quietly joined him, leaning a few feet away.
"...I understand where you're coming from, Peter." Tim said softly after a long few minutes of silence.
Peter didn't reply, but tilted his head toward Tim to show that he was listening. Tim took this as a chance to continue speaking.
"Before Bruce adopted me I lived at home in my parent's house. They weren't home a lot, and even when they were, eating dinner as a family didn't… didn't really happen ." Tim frowned softly, eyes glancing down to the grass.
"When I first came to the Manor, I got so freaked out about eating with the family that I started sitting alone in the breakfast nook for a while." Tim recalled, looking over at Peter as he spoke. "...look, what I'm trying to say is that it's not… it's not bad that you're feeling this way. It's normal for kids like us."
We are not the same, Peter thought with a pang of hurt in his heart. I've fought aliens, you get to go to school and not worry about your identity getting exposed.
"But I can promise you that we won't do anything to upset you. We're going at your pace, man."
Peter bit the inside of his cheek, gathering his thoughts before speaking in a timid tone.
"...Mr. Wayne said something about letting me stay, but he never mentioned for how long. I don't want to get in your way." he admitted softly, shoulders dropping just a bit.
Tim sighed softly through his nose. "I promise you aren't in the way. We had fun today, right?"
"Yeah?"
"We had fun because we liked having you around. We still do, you're fun. Plus you seem like you could use the help." Tim smiled. "We're more than capable of figuring out how to help you in the way that you need, okay?"
Peter knew that wasn't true. He needed help getting home, and despite this family's money and emotional honesty, he doubted that any of them could assist in cross-dimensional travel.
But Peter smiled anyway and nodded. Getting home felt farther and farther away, but Tim was partially right. This family was enjoying having him around, and he enjoyed staying with them so far.
He felt something in his chest akin to that of belonging. He had barely been here a day and he already felt wanted .
When was the last time he truly felt that? Probably dying in the arms of Tony. The man had wanted Peter to stay alive, but knew that it just couldn't happen. He held Peter until he became nothing but ash on his clothes.
And yet here he was. Peter had been blessed with another chance at life in a world where his skills could once again be put to good use. He could help people here, just like he had at home.
If you're nothing without this suit, then you shouldn't have it. Peter remembered Tony's words as vividly as he remembered Uncle Ben's.
Tony had always been right about that. Peter didn't need the fancy suit and tech to be Spider-man. All he needed was a way to help people. It shouldn't take much more research or planning to figure out how he can swing back into action.
Peter smiled a bit, looking over to Tim. "...thanks, Tim."
Tim smiled in relief at Peter's acceptance, bobbing his head in a dramatic nod. " Finally , you're so indecisive it's painful. " he teased, earning a scoff from Peter. "...c'mon, wanna head back inside?"
"Yeah, I'm still hungry."