"What are you?" Tim asked quietly, staring up at the largest monitor of the Batcomputer. Files were opening themselves, passwords were being entered, and camera feeds were being sorted through at an inhuman speed. Because this was not a human.
"Artificial Intelligence. I am smarter than the ones you are familiar with, though."
The teen frowned. He had stopped fighting the apparent cyber attack minutes ago, but he could still hear Barbara typing at the speed of light over the Oracle comms.
"Your secret room is not named in a very clever way."
"...what, the Bat Cave? " Tim rolled his eyes, already getting frustrated with the female voice. "There's bats in here, so it makes sense."
"Batman takes his name literally, I see. I did not consider Bruce Wayne to be the animalistic type."
Barbara huffed on her end of the line, anger in her tone. "He's not ."
"Who made you?" Tim spoke immediately after Barbara, wanting to keep this AI on topic. If it was really an artificial intelligence, then going too far away from the important subjects would cause it to drift.
"Tony Stark."
"...okay, so you're Peter's?"
"I figured that much was obvious."
Tim held back another frustrated sigh. It's attitude was really starting to get to him, and frankly, it was getting close to intolerable. The other vigilante's would be joining the Oracle comms soon, and he wanted to avoid panic from the AI's presence.
It was already in all of their systems and files, there was no stopping it now. Tim, at this point, was just worried about what its goal was.
"...okay, do you have a name?" Dick's voice came from the Oracle comms, both cautious and curious. He had mostly been freaked out because his siblings were freaked out, but now that Tim had mostly come to his senses he was feeling a bit better.
"Peter calls me Karen."
"Fitting name." Barbara grumbled, her typing slowing to a silent stop. Seems like she had given up as well. Tim could hear her eyes rolling.
"Okay, Karen." Dick hummed the name a few times. "Karen, Karen Karen..." he was smiling, Tim could tell. "...are you evil?"
"Far from it. Tony created me to assist Peter in his vigilante work."
"Friendly Neighborhood Spider-man..." Tim recalled to himself, thinking back to the day that they had discovered Peter was a meta. "That's what he called himself."
"It is his self-appointed title."
"And Tony Stark... knew his identity, and made you to help him?" Tim continued.
"Correct."
"So Tony Stark knows his identity?"
"Correct."
The three Waynes got quiet for a few moments, processing the information that they were given. Peter was smart, sure, but Tim doubted that he could do something like create an AI this advanced. This only furthered proof of Tony's existence.
"Do you know where Tony is?" Barbara asked, breaking the silence that they had found themselves in. Tim watched as the opening of files stunted for a moment, and the lag could have almost been mistaken for hesitation on Karen's part.
"That information is classified."
"Yeah, well so is all of our stuff." Tim retorted. "You seem to be having fun going through it all, despite that fact."
Another lag spike. Tim was amazed, but he refused to show it. Karen was extremely advanced, and she was right. She was more complicated than any AI he had ever seen before. She acted like a person. She had empathy and thoughts .
"I'm sorry, Timothy Drake-Wayne. I am merely doing my best to assist Peter by gathering information."
"What kind of info do you need?" Tim questioned, leaning back in his chair. Since she was being cooperative, his frustration had simmered down into major curiosity.
"Peter wishes to continue his work in Gotham. I, at first, silently disagreed with the notion. This is not Queens, and he will surely get injured beyond my control."
There was a pause, and Tim recognized the moment as her thinking.
"But now that I know he is being housed by the local vigilantes, I have no doubts that he will be fine."
All at once, every single file, camera, and password was closed, and Tim was greeted by the Batcomputer's home screen wallpaper. The only thing still open, of course, was the Oracle comms, which were pushed off to a side monitor.
"You can't tell him about us, Karen." Tim said idly, but made sure that there was enough sincerity in his voice for her to understand. "It's too dangerous."
"I have no plans to tell him of your identities."
"...don't.. don't fuck up our systems too bad. Please?" Barbara sighed in defeat from her end of the comm line. Tim could imagine her rubbing her eyes under her glasses, likely exhausted from the extremely short confrontation.
"I have no plans to alter your systems in any way unless you ask for me to."
"We won't be asking." Barbara assured, a bit of sarcastic venom on her tongue. Dick hummed in slight agreement, but since he had been only listening to the conversation and not watching a screen, he did not seem to understand the things that Karen had done and seen.
"If we need to contact you again, how can we do that?" Tim asked, glancing to the clock. They were out of time for any more long questions.
"I will know if you need my assistance, Timothy Drake-Wayne."
"...just Tim."
"Of course, Tim."
Peter Parker woke up with an ache in his chest. It weighed him down like dumbbells through the ribs, and made it hard for him to want to even function . The teen struggled to roll out of bed, and a quick glance to the digital alarm clock told him it was a little after five in the morning. Too early to be up.
He sighed dramatically, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and sitting up, stuffing his face into his hands to try rubbing some life back to his features. The dim light of early morning was of no comfort.
Memories of his dream came back to him.
"Mr Stark, I don't feel so good–" He pleaded with his mentor, praying for some reprieve from the pain across his body. The first time this happened, it did not hurt nearly as bad. But now it felt like fire was burning through to his bones, which splintered and jutted through his skin at awkward angles.
He felt like he had been beaten to a pulp, and he had been. Thanos was strong, but Jason was stronger. He had known it since day one. He knew that Jason could kill him.
Peter did not know why Jason was on Titan, but in the moment, he did not have the energy to consider this delusion.
When he looked up, he was not greeted by Tony's sympathetic, fearful eyes looking back down at him. Instead, the face of Bruce Wayne faltered, looking… much more emotional than Tony ever had.
"...Mr. Wayne?-"
"You're alright, Peter." The man consoled, lowering the aching, dying teen to the ground. The dust below him felt like his own, and the thought made him sick. "You're going to be just fine, just lay down for a minute."
"I-I'm sorry–" Peter gasped out an apology when his bones moved of their own volition, tearing wider injuries through his flesh. Then, he started turning to dust. "I didn't–"
"Shh.." Bruce eased, rubbing a hand over Peter's head, carting his fingers through his hair. The motion was supposed to be comforting, but it felt wrong . Bruce felt wrong .
This scenario was wrong. First Jason, and now Bruce? They were never on Titan in the first place. Peter's mind was cruel for putting these images into his mind.
"...you're right where you belong, champ." Bruce assured, and Peter choked on his tears. His vision blurred, his body flared hot, and then everything turned white.
Now, half awake and feeling unable to sleep, Peter made his way out of his room with heavy steps and a faint buzz in his brain. Nothing felt quite steady enough for him to fully grasp. He dragged his hand along the wall for balance, but it did nothing for the blurriness of his vision and the tears that threatened to fall once more.
But he refused to get the Wayne's rug dirty by crying on it. That would just make him a rude guest, even if he could clean it up himself.
Peter did not know exactly where he was walking to, but in no time, he found himself wandering the hallways of the first floor. With Karen left upstairs on his night stand, he was a little bit lost. Certain paintings, or rooms were familiar, though.
Like the door of the first floor study that was steadily becoming more clear in his vision. Early morning sun shone through the window at the end of the hall, illuminating the space in an almost pale golden color. No one but Alfred would be awake right now, and getting into that secret room would make a really good distraction…
He froze as the study door was pushed open from the inside, and watched from his spot as Jason and Dick both emerged from the room, wearing pajamas and looking tired.
Had they stayed up all night studying or something? Neither of them were in school, but maybe one was taking online courses? Or maybe they were just reading, because Jason was a nerd like that.
The two adults immediately noticed Peter, gazes locking onto his shaking form. Wait, when did Peter start shaking ? He could not recall.
"...Pete, bud, what are you doing up?" Dick asked, voice soft and slightly hoarse. He let his shoulders fall comfortably, approaching the boy with calculated steps. Not too fast. Peter appreciated the caution.
"...I just woke up, and I can't fall back asleep." he explained, and despite dancing around the part about his nightmare, he got the feeling that Dick could read him like an open book. There was no need for words with him.
The man nodded in understanding, noting how… dull Peter's voice sounded. It was hoarse from crying, and soft like he was afraid of upsetting anyone.
"That's alright, Tim gets that way sometimes." Dick empathized, placing a gentle hand on Peter's shoulder and giving it a careful squeeze. When he got no response, he frowned softly.
Sleep could wait, this kid needed to get grounded back to reality. So, he started leading Peter away from the study, glancing back at Jason with a raised, expectant brow. Are you gonna help me?
The way Jason scoffed told Dick what do you take me for, a therapist?
Dick's frown deepened, and he glanced between Peter and Jason. I take you for someone who can relate to his problems. Now come on.
Jason really hated how easy it was to agree with Dick.
The trio landed in the kitchen, where Dick steered Peter into the breakfast nook with trustworthy hands on his shoulders. Jason, on the other hand, walked sluggishly to the counter. If he would be staying up to help this kid, he would need caffeine in the form of coffee.
The oldest Wayne son slid into the seat across from Peter, frowning as the kid stared off at the table. His eyes were still glossy from his tears, and his cheeks were wet from crying. Snapping him out of this fully would be hard, and would probably take a while.
"He's not responding to physical stimuli." Dick voiced to Jason, reaching over and taking Peter's hands into his own. Like he had said, they were limp, with no real response to the contact.
"So a weighted blanket won't work." Jason huffed, listening as the coffee machine rumbled softly to life. "What are you gonna try next? Temperature?"
"I was thinking sound, but that works too." Dick rolled his eyes. "Can you grab me an ice cube?"
Jason sighed dramatically. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into a bed right now and sleep the day away, but Peter's impromptu awakening had interrupted that plan. He tried not to complain, though. Peter needed this.
He approached the table with a small cup of ice cubes, setting it down flatly in front of Dick with a soft clink. He got a grateful nod in response, and that was enough for him.
Dick started carefully, just touching the ice cube to the back of Peter's hand. The sensation was cold, and the shift from dry to wet would hopefully grab his attention.
The hairs on the back of Peter's neck stood at attention, and a buzzing became prominent in his mind, but the pure disorientation he was experiencing had desaturated the alarm sounds.
When that did not work, Dick instead tried wrapping the ice cube inside of Peter's palm, closing his fingers shut into a fist to hold it more firmly against his skin.
The ringing in Peter's ears came to an abrupt halt, and the feeling of cold stinging his palm brought him back to the present. He huffed, prying his hand away from Dick's concealment and dropping the half-melted cube onto the table. His hands dripped, making him uncomfortably numb.
"Sorry, Pete." Dick smiled apologetically, pulling a paper towel from the roll on the breakfast nook table. "You were drifting pretty far..." he trailed off, talking slower. "...do you want to.. talk about it?"
The offer was kind. Peter knew that Dick had only good intentions, but the thought of ranting about something that never happened in this universe made his stomach uneasy again.
"..It'll be fine." The teen reasoned, wiping his hands with the paper towel that Dick had offered. The man sitting across from him frowned, and wanted to push a bit more, but Jason joining the two at the table stopped him.
"Well, we're all awake. None of us are going back to sleep anytime soon." Jason stated the obvious, the smell of fresh coffee wafting from his mug. One glance told Peter that he drank it with a decent amount of creamer. It sort of smelled like vanilla, too. "So let's do something today."
"Oh?" Dick smiled, lighting up a bit at Jason's suggestion. "Did you have an idea?"
"Yeah." Jason smirked. "Field trip to Gotham Library? I want to try finding that book you mentioned." he looked to Peter when he spoke, raising an expectant brow.
The teen hesitated. Going out again did sound fun, but he got the feeling that this would just result in being coddled. Which was not what he wanted.
But watching Jason run around aimlessly, searching for The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane , sounded too good to miss.
An hour later, in the midst of a conversation about musicals, the main lights of the kitchen were flicked on. Jason and Dick both squinted in discomfort, while Peter just sighed and put his head down into his arms to avoid the light.
Alfred paused, surprised to see the three sitting together. "...young Masters, young Peter." he greeted cooly, approaching the breakfast nook. "Why are you three not in bed?" While his question was mainly aimed at Jason and Dick, he still felt a pang of concern for Peter as well.
"Jay and I were up reading all night, and Peter found us when he couldn't sleep." Dick explained, rubbing the discomfort from his eyes and smiling at Alfred. "None of us wanted to sleep now, so we've been up for a bit."
"I see." Alfred hummed, glancing between the three young men. "I say, it has been a while since everyone has gotten together for breakfast. With you three up and about already, perhaps your siblings will be compelled to follow suit."
A family breakfast sounded intimate, but not nearly as intimate as a family dinner. Peter supposed that he could join them, if they invited him, of course.
"Good luck getting Tim out of bed, he had quite the night." Jason snorted, rolling his eyes and leaning back. His comment seemed to have earned him an elbow in the ribs by Dick. Peter lifted his head and watched with interested confusion.
"What was Tim doing all night?" He questioned, glancing between the two men. Both seemed to freeze under his gaze, and shared similar looks of uncertainty.
"Master Tim has a bad habit of studying all night." Alfred explained before the boys could even try. He passed them both a look that Peter in fact did not miss. "I believe he has a big test today, and was likely cramming for it."
The explanation made sense, so Peter tried not to dwell too hard on it. Satisfied, Alfred left his spot next to the table and started bustling around the kitchen to prepare breakfast. The presence of Jason, Dick, and Peter had clearly been unexpected, but he was more than happy to have them around as he prepared. He enjoyed the company.
The rest of the morning went smoothly, and the breakfast was enjoyable. Alfred's cooking always managed to be the highest quality, and Peter swore that the man was secretly a five-star chef. The teens all sat around the table, talking about the events of the day ahead.
Like Alfred, Dick, and Jason had mentioned, Tim was rather tired. The bags under his eyes seemed darker than usual, and his coffee smelled extra strong. It seemed like he was taking preemptive measures to avoid falling asleep, considering he did have a test today.
Duke, the only well-rested person at the table, ate the biggest breakfast. He was complaining about some sort of conference with his counselor about college prep that he had to do later in the day. Something about scholarship applications for Gotham University, despite his adopted father being rich beyond belief.
Cassandra and Peter both shared mutual glances of night terrors. They really did not need to communicate verbally to understand each other. They had some sort of sixth-sense understanding of their problems. The glimmer in her eyes told him that they would both be napping before dinner.
"Damian, don't forget about that pre-test today." Bruce reminded in a mumble from the head of the table. The young boy on his right seemed to freeze in place, grabbing Peter's attention. "This is to get you into that advanced trigonometry class you wanted, right?"
"...right." Damian said through gritted teeth, shoving his plate away and standing abruptly. "I seem to have miscalculated my available study time. Come get me when it is time to depart." He left the room with hasty steps, and Peter frowned.
"...is he okay?" Peter found himself asking that question more and more as he stayed in the Manor. Damian was quite the mystery. A concerning mystery.
Bruce nodded, sipping his coffee mug and glancing at Peter, then to the doorway where Damian had just left from. His eyes finally landed on his son's half-finished plate. He frowned softly. "...he didn't sleep well last night. He's probably worried about passing."
Peter nodded quietly in understanding, looking at Damian's plate. "...I'll go talk to him." he's not sure what possessed him, but he stood up and took Damian's plate in hand, exiting the room quickly. Behind him, he could hear Dick and Bruce both making sounds of disagreement.
He wandered the second floor hallway of bedrooms, mentally reminding himself who stayed where. When he came across Damian's room, he remembered it as the one Karen said had weapons inside. Part of Peter felt alarmed, but he forced it down. Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand and knocked gently on the wood.
He could hear shuffling, and a rolling chair sliding across the floor, before the door was pulled open just enough to allow Damian to look through the crack. He glanced around before his eyes landed on Peter, visibly freezing once more.
The teen offered an awkward smile, and held up the plate. "...you really shouldn't study without some sort of food. It'll make you feel less stressed." he explained his intentions, glancing from Damian to the door. "...can I come in? Maybe I could help you?"
The kid scoffed, a glare forming in his eyes. "I do not need your help nor your sympathy, Parker." he declared, boring daggers into him.
"Then at least take your breakfast and finish it." he insisted carefully, holding the plate closer to the door to encourage Damian to take it. "I promise it'll help."
Damian Wayne's glare never faltered. Briefly, Peter second-guessed his decision to come up to him. Maybe it had been a bad idea, and maybe Damian was just getting madder and madder by the second. Peter's smile faltered, and he took a small step away from the door in defeat.
"Give me that ." The boy hissed, pushing the door open enough to reach out and snatch the plate from Peter. "Do not come to my room uninvited again." he insisted with a sharp look, stepping back and slamming the door shut.
Peter stared at the wood in surprise. Slowly, his smile found its way back to his face. An interaction with Damian that did not end in a fight was an improvement in his mind. Happy with himself, he turned to leave without another word.
Upon returning downstairs, he passed Tim, Cass, and Duke, who all trudged past him to finish getting ready for the day. He shrugged after realizing that they had finished breakfast without him. He tried not to be too offended, he was just a guest, after all.
"Pete!" Dick called out with a smile when he saw the teen, and Peter returned it in earnest. "You're plate-less, did he throw it at you?" the man teased, raising a brow from his seat at the table.
"Nope." He hummed, satisfied. "In fact, he took it to finish while he studies." Proud of himself, Peter sat back in his own seat, polishing off his remaining food as quickly as possible.
"Wow," Jason mused, scrolling through his phone with an amused twinkle in his detached gaze. "he didn't try killing you. Points to Damian." he joked, leaning back in his chair until he was balancing on the two back legs.
Bruce and Alfred both sighed at the same time, the former standing to take his plate to the kitchen while the latter tipped Jason's chair upright. Jason huffed, rolling his eyes with no real malice.
"I think he's starting to warm up to me, really." Peter mentioned, following Bruce's lead and standing with his cleared plate and silverware. "He didn't even shout! All he did was slam his door and tell me not to come back uninvited."
"He won't ever invite you." Dick rolled his eyes playfully. "Love the little guy, but he loves his privacy even more. He barely lets me in, and I'm his favorite!"
"You and Jason are constantly competing for that spot, Dick." Bruce reminded, exiting the dining room with Peter hot on his tail.
"Damian's favorites are Dick and Jason?" Peter questioned, a bit surprised. In the grand scheme of things, it did make sense. They were the oldest, and Dick was Bruce's first son. Maybe Damian felt connected to them in that way.
"If you can say that tolerating them makes them the favorites." Bruce joked, setting his plate and silverware into the sink. Peter followed suit, and watched as Bruce checked his wrist watch. "I've got to get to the office, will you be okay today?" he asked, casting Peter a fond glance.
"Oh, yeah I'll be good." The teen assured, shoving his hands into his red plaid pajama pants pockets. "Dick and Jason are gonna take me to the public library today." he smiled, and noticed how Bruce relaxed at that.
"It'll be good the more you get out of the house. We can gradually introduce you to society, like we did with the other kids." He hummed.
Peter paused, processing Bruce's words. "...what's that supposed to mean?"
"You're living with me, Peter." The man started to explain, turning to face him with a reassuring smile. "The news is going to catch wind of another orphan in the house eventually, so it's better if we introduce you on our own terms before the media gets the chance to do it before you're ready."
The teen hesitated, but nodded in some understanding. "...that makes sense, yeah." he mumbled, looking to the side. Holding eye contact was starting to make his neck itch. "...what are we gonna tell the media, then? When you uh.. officially announce it?"
"Emergency foster placement." Bruce said smoothly, like it was three practiced words. "I had a friend draw up the papers. You're legally under my care, according to the state of New Jersey."
Peter nodded once more. "Cool. I guess this makes me your foster son?" he joked, but his voice had a twinge of panic in it. Peter did not want to be his foster son. He wanted to be Aunt May's nephew, and Tony's mentee.
But this circumstance was better than being homeless in Gotham.
Bruce sighed with a chuckle, shaking his head. "It makes you whatever you want to call yourself, Peter. Don't focus too hard on the labels, that'll just make things messier." he teased. "Have fun at the library today, kiddo."
As Bruce left, Peter allowed his senses time to settle down. Bruce Wayne's Foster Son echoed in his mind. He could see the headlines now. Peter's name was bound to be everywhere by the time people realized what was happening in the Manor.
Thank God Peter Parker did not exist in this universe, or that would be a very concerning thing for the hypothetical other him.
A strong and warm hand patted Peter's shoulder, and he jumped as Dick walked by with a grin. "C'mon, Petey, go get dressed so we can leave." The man left the room, leaving Peter standing alone in the kitchen.
Once again, Dick had appeared unnoticed by Peter's senses. It made him swallow uncomfortably, but regardless, he followed his direction and went up to his room to shower, change, and get ready for the day.
An hour later, Peter was slipping Karen into his ear and sliding down the grand staircase banister to get to the foyer, a stupid grin on his face. He had always wanted to do that.
Dick and Jason met him a few minutes later, each one pulling on jackets over their plain colored t-shirts. They both had on jeans of varying shades of blue, and Jason's had holes ripped into the knees. Jason also had on a cool pair of sunglasses with sharp ends to their triangle lenses. Peter smiled at how nerdy they looked.
The teen himself had on jeans similar to Dick's, but in a lighter, bleached blue that were cuffed at the ends. His hand-me-down rust converse were tied onto his feet. For his topside, he had put on a plain black t-shirt, with a gray Robin-themed zip-up jacket.
"Ready to go?" Dick glanced between Peter and Jason, getting nods of approval from them both. Satisfied, he pulled his phone out to shoot Alfred a quick text, reminding him that they would be gone when he came home from dropping the others off at school.
"Can I drive?" Jason smirked, holding the door for the other two, then joining them as they walked down the steps of Wayne Manor's front porch.
Dick huffed out a laugh, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, no . I remember the last time."
"..what happened last time?" Peter asked with morbid curiosity, looking between the two as they approached Dick's dark gray car. It had a dent in the rear bumper, and the windows were tinted. Part of him wondered why Dick did not just get a new car from Bruce, or at least, get this one repaired.
"He crashed us into a traffic light pole, knocking the whole thing over and cutting the power for four blocks." Dick explained, emphasizing the misdeeds that Jason had committed.
Peter gasped dramatically, looking at Jason with mock offense. "How dare you. Was it in Dick's car?"
" No , it was Bruce's." Dick said, a shit-eating grin on his face as he dug Jason a bigger hole. His brother just shot him a silent glare of betrayal. Peter watched with a grin as he climbed into the back seat, with Dick in the driver's seat and Jason in the front passenger.
"I still can't believe you crashed it that badly." Dick sighed dramatically, tone playful as he pulled down the long driveway.
"You're exaggerating the story." Jason insisted, playful frustration shining through his smile. He wanted to be mad, but simply couldn't. "It was fine. "
"Mhm. Sure, Jay." Dick hummed, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. In the distance, Main Gotham came into view, and Peter felt his heart race.
Everytime he went into the city, he got more and more familiar with its layout. He committed street names to memory, and noted locations of interest like medical centers, or homeless shelters.
The entire drive to the public library, Peter kept his gaze out the tinted window, observing the city and its workings.
It reminded him of New York, and that made him smile.
Dick parked his car in a public lot about a block away, and the three climbed out. As they walked, Peter noticed small changes in the weather already, as compared to the week before. As the year eased closer to summer, the spring chill turned into a manageable coolness, and he had no doubt it would become sunshine warmth soon after that.
"...I actually came here before." Peter striked conversation, a little smile on his face. "On my first night in Gotham, I didn't have anywhere to go. The shelters made me nervous."
Jason hummed in understanding, kicking a small rolling rock as they walked. "I get that. The shelters aren't the friendliest."
Dick nodded in agreement, frowning slightly. "Did you have to break in?"
"It was easy to do." Peter shrugged. "Besides, I figured that breaking into a place with Public plastered on the front would be better than some residence."
"Sound logic." Jason chuckled. "I wonder if Babs caught you on the cameras, then."
"Whose Babs?" Peter asked, the name sounding vaguely familiar.
"Barbara Gordon. She is the daughter of the Gotham Police Commissioner."
"Barbara Gordon."
Dick and Karen answered at the same time, and the blend of their voices surprised him momentarily.
"Family friend, then?" Peter assumed after a second.
Jason and Dick both nodded in confirmation. Peter was satisfied with their answer, and remained comfortably quiet for the rest of the short walk.
Peter took the steps of the Library two at a time, beating the other two to the doors. He went inside with a grin, and despite this only being his second time in the building, it felt familiar.
He was thrown back to his first night in Gotham, inside the dark library with nothing. He had tried imagining the place during the day, and it seemed that his guess was pretty damn accurate.
College students studied quietly at tables, either nose-deep in books or droning at laptops. Men, women, and children alike filtered through the shelves quietly as they searched for specific books.
That giant dome in the open center of the building let an abundance of golden sunlight into the room. It gave the place a warm and homey glow, just like Peter had imagined.
He could find himself wanting to come here all the time.
"You two go look for your mystery book," Dick teased, entering behind Peter with Jason. "I'm gonna go find Barbara."
Jason tossed Dick a thumbs up, then smirked at Peter. "C'mon, Webs. Let's go find Kate DiCamillo's work."
"Babs!" Dick smiled, jogging up to the service desk with enthusiasm. The woman behind the counter looked up from her computer, a small smile gracing her features when she saw him.
"Dick, hey! What are you doing here?" She questioned with a teasingly skeptical eyebrow. "You never read." She joked.
"I'm not here for me." He rolled his eyes, leaning his elbows on the top of the desk and glancing over to her side. The surface was cluttered. Ever the messy organizer. "Jason and Peter are running around playing their little book game." Despite his eye roll, he sounded extremely comfortable.
Barbara hummed in acknowledgement. "Sounds about right." Her smile relaxed, and she leaned back in her wheelchair. "Anything new since last night?"
Dick hesitated, glancing to his sides to check for anyone listening. "...no, but I've got an idea as to how they communicate."
Barbara hummed. "Oh yeah?"
"Hearing aid."
The woman paused, letting her brain wrap around the information at hand. She knew Peter had a hearing aid, but she never really assumed anything was strange about it.
"...you think it's fake, then?" She asked quietly.
Dick nodded. "I think it's just there for show. It's a good disguise, though. Most people wouldn't notice it." He smiled.
"It's clever." Barbara nodded in agreement. "..do you think she talks to him all the time?"
Dick shrugged. "I think it's like what she told Tim: that she'll know when he needs assistance."
Barbara nodded a final time, pushing her glasses up her nose. "That's really handy." She smiled. "...he's a smart kid. I'm glad he wound up with you guys."
"...did you wanna meet him today?" Dick suggested, smile brightening as they got away from the sensitive topic.
But Barbara waved her hand with a playful eye roll. "I'm sure I'll see him running around, don't pull him from his fun just to say hi."
The man raised his hands in surrender, nodding. "Sure, sure. I have zero plans to join them, though. Mind if I hang with you?"
"I don't mind one bit, Dickie." She chuckled, shaking her head and turning back to her computer screen.
"Jason," Peter said softly, looking through aisles. The man had disappeared a minute or two ago to look for a novel he had suggested to Peter, but now it seemed that he was really gone. "Are you around here?"
He frowned as he poked his head into the aisles, walking down a few and peeking between books. He would whisper-yell the man's name every few seconds.
" Jason, you can't just abandon me-" He joked dramatically. As he rounded the corner though, he collided with someone's back. This caused both Peter and the girl to stumble, her dropping a textbook hard onto the floor.
"Shit-" Peter's eyes widened. "I'm sorry- I didn't mean to-" his gaze went from the book to the girl, and he froze when he saw her face.
A brown-eyes glare, and a frustrated huff escaped her lips. Peter stared at the familiar person, and his heart clenched.
"Cool, yeah, no. I assumed you did that on purpose." MJ said dramatically, leaning down to pick up her book. Despite her hair being darker, and this being New Jersey , it was undoubtedly her.
Peter was speechless, watching her pick up the book and brush off the cover. It was a calculus textbook, with the spine detaching from the pages.
"...are you gonna say something?" She questioned, cocking an eyebrow at him.
Peter fumbled out another apology, and took a few steps back before turning and entering the closest aisle. Memories of Midtown wracked his mind. Memories of his life clawed their way to the front of his mind.
"-eter, sorry. I went up to the second story." Jason's voice came into earshot, and he stiffened. He whipped his head around, spotting Jason entering the aisle from the other end.
"Jason-" Peter took a sharp breath, getting to the man's side before Jason could even meet him halfway. "Hey, sorry-" He huffed, holding onto the book shelf and squeezing his eyes shut tight.
Jason paused, setting the book in hand down before taking Peter's shoulders. "Hey, Pete." He said in a quiet voice, turning the kid to look at him fully. "Take a breath."
Peter listened and followed his directions to the best of his ability, taking slow, deep breaths to slow the pounding in his chest.
"...sorry." Peter mumbled after a minute, opening his eyes slowly to look at Jason. "...I panicked."
"You're fine, don't apologize." Jason assured, then he glanced around the aisle with sharp eyes. "...any reason why?"
"...I just thought I saw someone I recognized, and it freaked me out." Peter explained vaguely, reaching up and holding Jason's wrists to ground himself. "I haven't seen her in a while, so I panicked."
" Her ?" Jason paused, a playful grin forming on his face. "Let me guess, an ex-girlfriend?"
Jason's teasing was meant to be comforting, but it only made the pang in Peter's heart worse. But he hid it with a quiet laugh. "..something like that, yeah. Last time I checked, she lived in New York. Seeing her here just surprised me." He sighed. "...I don't think she recognized me."
"Probably because of your cool new hair." Jason hummed, releasing Peter and ruffling his hair. "You and I are basically twins now." He joked.
"Twins? Come on, I look so different-" Peter laughed, the new topic a welcome distraction.
Despite how easy it was to joke with Jason, the image of Michelle Jones-Watson was burned into his mind.
He got the feeling he would not be sleeping again tonight.
"Whatever. C'mon, let's find Dick." Jason suggested, picking up the book and putting it into Peter's hands. "We can also get you a library card while we're here."
The teen hesitated to talk, walking with Jason. He tried not to let his eyes wander, too afraid of seeing her again. He let his voice lower. "...uh, I don't have an ID, Jason."
"Nonsense. Bruce got you papers, remember?" Jason said, steering Peter toward a service desk, where Dick was sitting on a stool and talking to a pretty red-head at the computer.
"Right." Peter mumbled, still overly unsure. Despite that, he allowed his nerves to dissipate as they approached the desk.
Dick looked up from his phone, smiling when he saw the two. "Hey! Have fun running around?"
"Yeah, we lost track of time." Jason snickered. Peter paused. How much time had it been?
"Hi, Peter. You have been at Gotham Public Library for one hour and twenty-eight minutes."
Damn, time really does fly by when you're having fun.
"I can see that." Dick teased the two, then looked at the woman. "Babs, this is Peter." He smiled, glancing between the two. When she looked up and spotted Peter, she smiled, pushing her glasses up her nose.
Peter didn't miss how her gaze flicked from his face, to his hair, to his hearing aid.
"Peter, this is Barbara Gordon."
Peter stepped up with a polite smile, setting the book on the desk. "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Gordon-"
"Ew, formal much?" She joked, rolling her eyes. "Please, just call me Barbara. Or, Babs." She shrugged. " Anything but Ms. Gordon." She shivered dramatically.
The teen chuckled, finding himself relaxing quite easily in her presence. "Alright, Babs."
Jason threw his arm over Peter's shoulders, grinning at the two. "Pete wants to check out a book. Think you can hook him up with a card?"
Barbara rolled her eyes, and sighed dramatically like Dick. "I guess. God, why are you making me do my job , Jason?" She joked, rolling away from the desk for a moment to get to a card printer on the back wall. "Peter, what name do you want printed?"
"Peter Benjamin Parker, please." He said, tapping his fingers on the desk patiently. Barbara nodded, pressing a few buttons and typing on a small screen.
Jason gave Peter's shoulders an encouraging squeeze.
Minutes later, the trio was leaving the library. Dick waved to Barbara, Jason chewed on a fresh piece of gum, and Peter was grinning down at his shiny new Library card with his book under his arm.
It was a white piece of plastic, with his name printed in bold black. A barcode scanner was on the back, and a picture of Peter grinning was in the upper left corner.
"This is so cool." He mumbled, causing Jason to snicker in amusement.
"It's just a library card, Pete." The man teased, elbowing the teen. Peter rolled his eyes, elbowing him right back. He missed the semi-surprised look on Jason's face at the pressure asserted by his elbow.
"It's my library card." He emphasized, holding it up to the sun.
"Damn right it is." Dick agreed, smiling fondly at the kid. "Damn right."
The three rode back to Wayne Manor in silence, and Peter took this as an opportunity to start reading the novel.
The Sunshine Court was definitely not what Peter had been expecting for Jason to suggest, but he certainly was not complaining now.
Upon arriving home, Jason admitted that he needed to get back to his apartment. Peter got the feeling that Jason didn't mean to spend the night last night, but something caused him to stick around. Peter refused to acknowledge that he was likely that something.
While Dick went to find Alfred, Peter fell back into the closest sofa in a media room, sinking into the cushions and looking up at the pages. There really was nothing like a new book.
Peter was about halfway through it when the other teens got home from school. Cass and Duke gave Peter cheery greetings and went off to do God knows what, and Tim trudged up the stairs to his room for a nap.
He felt like he was in the same situation, tired and ready to go down for a few hours. But the quiet conversation between Alfred and Damian kept him rooted in place.
"How did your entrance test go, Master Damian?"
The silence spoke volumes.
"...I see. Well then, perhaps tonight you should rest instead of participating in this family's activities."
Activities?
"It would be good for you. Clearly you are under much stress at the moment. A break won't hurt one bit, Master Damian."
There was the sound of shuffling fabric, and Peter assumed it was a hug.
"Good, now go on. I will retrieve you for dinner."
Damian shut his bedroom door as quietly as possible, not wanting to possibly alert anyone else in the house. Alfred seeing him upset was bad enough. He refused to let his adoptive siblings see his weakness.
A sheet of paper was gripped tightly in his hand. He had passed , there was no doubt about that, but the bold 82% sent stabs into his chest.
He was much better than 82% .
Damian set the paper on his desk and dropped his bag at his feet, running his hands over his face with a frustrated sigh.
He was already benched for the night. Alfred wanted him to rest. Damian wanted nothing more than to join his father on Gotham's streets later that evening.
He decided to compromise by studying instead.
A soft knock on his door broke him from his intense focus about forty-five minutes into his study session, and a scowl crossed his face. Whoever was interrupting him again would not get away Scot-free.
When he opened the door to look out, he was surprised to once again see Parker looking down at him. This time, he held a textbook in his arms, and his smile was relaxed.
"..hey, Damian. Wanna chat for a minute?"
"...no." he huffed, moving to close the door. He was surprised however when something stopped it from shutting all the way, and looking down, he saw Peter's foot in the frame. "... Parker , get out ."
"I wanted to see if you would help me with something." The teen's complete avoidance of Damian's commands only made him even more frustrated.
"What could I possibly want to help you with?" Damian demanded the answer, glaring up at Peter.
"Trigonometry."
The youngest Wayne paused, gears turning in his head. The odds of this being some sort of assassination attempt were low, but not zero.
But one long look at Peter revealed the honesty that Damian wanted so badly to deny.
"...I'm not in school right now, but I still think it's important for me to self-educate." Peter explained in Damian's silence. "You're in one of those advanced classes, right?"
"..I will be in the next school year. I tested in today." Damian explained, a sense of pride in his voice. "...and you obviously want my superior help."
"Obviously." Peter repeated with a chuckle. "..think you could study with me until dinner?"
"Tt." Damian sounded, and after a moment, he opened the door all the way, allowing Peter Parker to join him inside.
Peter and Damian left that bedroom with a quiet understanding. They did not discuss it at the dinner table, and they did not even look at each other, but something in their hearts had grown warmer in their short time studying together.
Not only had they found common ground, but they had found something that they could not argue about. Math was consistent , and had one way of doing things. They could both agree to that.
It was… nice.
Needless to say, Peter would try studying with Damian a lot more.
As the house settled for the night, and the kids all filtered to their respective rooms, Peter slid into his with a quiet sigh. Tonight, he would not be sleeping. But it was not because of the night terrors, or the MJ scare earlier in the day.
It was because he had plans.
Peter Parker got down on his knees and looked under his bed, feeling around on the underside of the bedframe for a few moments before feeling what he was searching for.
It had been a little over a week, and he was getting tired of waiting for the perfect opportunity that would never come.
He worked fast, using Karen's guidance in his ear to direct the nanobots into points of interest. The chest, shoulders, back, and any major arteries were his top priority. In the end, this resulted in him having something more akin to armor than a full supersuit.
Regardless, it still looked cool. Even better, it still had the spider emblem on the front. A mask had been reproduced by the nanobots, with a slot for Karen's hearing aid to click into place seamlessly.
Peter produced solid black work out clothes from his closet, courtesy of his shopping trip with the Wayne teens the previous day. The long sleeve shirt was skin tight, and would allow for flexible movement, while the black pants were slightly looser, and better fitted for durability and sweat absorption.
He looked through his array of shoes, frowning at any of the provided options. The converse were a definite no, and the exercise shoes made Peter cringe. Nothing seemed right.
So, he resorted to the ol' fashioned pair of spider boots that he had stored behind the bed frame. He pulled them over his black underclothes, and then snapped his armor into place. The nanobots shifted and moved across his body, aligning where he had preset them to be.
When everything fell perfectly into place, Peter felt himself relax. This felt perfect. This was exactly what he needed to be doing.
Peter stepped into his bathroom, taking a quick look at himself in the mirror. The Spider-Style had definitely changed, but he could not find it in himself to complain. The full Spider Suit was very New York, but the armor was very Gotham.
It was fitting. A new universe called for new changes, after all.
Peter opened his cell phone and cycled through a few social media feeds as he paced up his walls and ceiling, taking in as much information as he could. He wanted to at least wait for the local vigilantes to step into the scene before he took off.
The first Bat-Spotting happened at 11:39. A blurry photo of Batman, Red Robin, and Black Bat had been uploaded to Snap-Map, and Peter smiled.
The teen stopped pacing right above his window, parallel to the floor. He took a deep, slow breath, evening himself out. One step at a time , he reminded himself as he kneeled down and slid open the window.
One swing at a time.