lepoffaith

by Lazydaily

marvel peter gotham long ass chapters

8. 8

Jason has a list.

When he first came back and really understood what had happened to him (because there was a point where all Jason could feel and think of was black, and dirt, and bleeding fingernails, and then one day it was all replaced with green and blind fury), Jason had a list of everything that made him angry.

Laughter.

Nicknames.

The memory of a library.

Birds.

His hands.

The rain.

They were the smaller aspects of life around him that he couldn't escape. It built up inside of him, always crawling underneath his skin. It burrowed deeper and deeper, clawing it's way through his chest, wanting to rip him apart at his seams. It wanted him to be an unrecognizable person to who he used to be, before he was buried and laid to 'rest.'

Of course, he wasn't angry at those harmless ideas. He was angry about the more that came with it. He didn't stay up late at night sitting on a window sill of whatever random place he had stopped at for the night, cursing the rain. No, he hated that the rain reminded him of Gotham.

Gotham is always raining. It's always cold, too, no matter the season. Summer cold and winter cold were different, any Gothamite could tell you that. The rain on this side of the world wouldn't smell anything like Gotham's rain. It was clean, and the worst it could give someone was a cold. But rain sounds the same whether it's poison or not, and even if the rain was poison back home, it was home.

He wasn't angry about his hands. He was terrified to remember the feeling of crawling out of his grave. Of beating wood apart, of shoveling hard dirt and slick mud and reaching out to grab the grass with blood all over his hands. He was terrified to remember what it felt like to feel nothing.

He wasn't angry at the birds. He hated that when they flew up towards the sky, he'd remember the feeling of swinging, the sound of a cape fluttering behind him the way the birds beat their wings. He despised how it used to make him feel so safe, so much like he could really fly, and he could keep his home under his wing.

He didn't hate the library. At some point the couch that he'd lay on was soft, his head would be on the pillow, and the fire would be going. There'd be the ruffling of papers from both him and someone he called Dad that would lull him into a sleep where he wasn't cold, and wasn't scared. And he'd wake up either in his bed or with someone asleep next to him on the couch. Where no one would scream in his face or shake him or throw him against a wall. Someone's fingers would run through his hair absently while they would read side by side, and Jason was safe. And now he thinks of that library with bitterness, with a hurt that resides bone deep.

He doesn't hate nicknames. He hates that he used to have them, and he hates that they made him feel loved. When Dad would call him 'Jaybird' and he'd feel like he belonged in that big house, at someone's table, and that they thought of him fondly enough to place a credit to his existence. When someone that could have been an older brother had started calling him Little Wing, like Jason was someone that could stand next to him and wasn't someone he was truly ashamed of, after all. Because Jason spent so long thinking that he wasn't good enough, and he'd never be, and he couldn't live up to what someone else left behind. And sometimes he still wonders if he ever was, but that nickname made that fear feel farther away.

He doesn't hate laughter. What he hates is that he used to laugh, and it wasn't tinged with regret, or shame, or a petty and ugly thing like he is now. Jason hates that he used to be a happy kid, and he was punished for it.

Jason has a new list.

It's a hard process, making this new list. Anger had always been easy, because Jason hadn't called it grief. It's much harder to think of the parts of his life that he is thankful for, that he trusts, or that he loves. Because loving was what got him killed. Loving had been why he hurt.

Jason loves the quiet of his apartment, when he can watch his brothers and his sisters breathe in their sleep, safe and sound and alive, alive, alive, trusting him despite Jason being a broken, broken, broken person.

He loves the drive through Gotham on his bike, every Tuesday, to pick up Damian. Who will always be waiting at the end of the block with his arms crossed, and will always pretend he isn't grinning when Jason promises he's going to show up to his art shows. He likes having somewhere to be, and someone waiting for him.

He loves late night phone calls with his friends- with Roy, with Kory, sometimes little Lian, when she sneaks Roy's phone. Knowing that someone will think of him, will know if Jason is missing himself again. The moments of time where he can forget everything else, just for this moment, and just enjoy being alive.

And Jason loves cooking.

He used to like cooking Before, too. It was something he only really got to try when he moved into Wayne Manor. He still remembers Alfred trying to learn what to do with him. Dickhead had just left, and Alfred was trying not to make Jason feel like he was there as some sort of substitute. Alfred, in a show of great grace, as he wouldn't let just anyone use his kitchen, taught Jason how to make Bruschetta.

The kitchen wasn't a quiet place, per say, but Alfred and Jason were both quiet people. When it came to Jason, he was quiet because he hadn't yet felt comfortable to speak. With Alfred, Jason felt like they didn't have to speak at all in order to be understood. So every night, Jason would wander into the kitchen, and he'd smell the food and he'd make it with his own hands, and Jason wondered if Alfred knew that for a kid who always wondered about his next meal before he came to them, this was like walking into the safest place in the world.

Alfred used to guide his hands when they kneaded dough to make bread. He'd watch over Jason's shoulders and mutter about how to see when the water was boiled hot enough. He'd peel potatoes methodically, and Alfred would hum a song from Bruce's childhood while he prepared the table in the other room. Cooking felt like home, like he could do whatever he wanted.

So right now, Jason cooks. Because it feels more like a night where being angry is easier, and Jason wants it to be easy. (He doesn't want it to be easy.)

He doesn't have the ingredients in his apartment to make Arancini or Risotto alla Milanese. He was too tired the other day to actually get off his ass and go grocery shopping. But Jason, in an effort to feel anything but simmering anger, has found more than enough other ingredients around his kitchen to make enough food to feed a small army.

About seventeen paninis sit on a plate next to loaded baked potatoes, two pizzas are in the oven. Jason is currently stirring… a soup. He thinks. He doesn't know what soup he's making, considering he just went on auto pilot, but it smells good, and when he tries a taste, it's not an abomination, so he just continues cooking as if he left his mind somewhere else.

"Alright, you are officially out of ingredients."

"Hm."

Jason is staring at the wall over his stove, leaning one hand on the counter while stirring the pot with the other. Babs is in the open door of his fridge, already eyeing the pantry to make sure she's right. She is. Jason has officially cooked everything that he was planning to make last two weeks. The apartment smells like pizza.

"Are you planning to eat all of this?"

"Hm."

Babs is unimpressed with him. She can deal with it. Not like Jason hasn't tolerated that look from others before. When he was Robin, everyone but Bruce was unimpressed with him. Well, mostly everyone. There were a few…

"Alright." Babs wheels over, removing the spoon from his hand. He doesn't fully notice it until he's stirred with air for a few spins. That's when he finally averts his gaze from the wall and towards hers.

So, she's not unimpressed. Worried, is more like it. She does a great job of not shoving a pity party in his face, but sometimes she can't exactly hide that she notices when Jason is trying to shut down rather than feel an emotion. It's really terrible of her, he thinks. How is he supposed to stay on autopilot when she makes such a sad face at him? It's literally impossible to disagree with Babs. Ever since he settled back into the family, she's the one that he goes to when it feels like Too Much and he keeps remembering the During. His older sister understands more than anyone else.

"How about we start by eating some of the food that you've made?" She attempts. There's a snort from the kitchen island, near the paninis. When Jason looks over, the Demon Brat is sitting in one of his stools, holding the sandwich in his grubby little hands.

"You should try them, Todd, they're pretty decent."

"I made them." Jason narrows his eyes. "Of course they're good."

Damian shrugs as if this has no effect to his person. Jason tries not to add it to the list of things he hates. It's something good. It's not annoying. No, it's annoying. But it means that Damian is alive, if he's shrugging his shoulders and acting like a know-it-all.

The boy had been seething when Dickhead told him to come here earlier, like it was the end of the world as they know it. He put up a pretty good fight, too, making great points. Tim might have needed help, what if there were more enemies around, couldn't he at least help with the volunteers? But Dickhead shut him down with good points of his own: they had already helped as much as they could, there were confirmed no more enemies looting around once Two-Face was caught, and Tim was not under a pressure or time limit, and had mostly gotten his work done. So had Jason, Duke, and Cass.

But the brat still insisted he needed to walk Peter home. Dickhead said that he'd do it, and he told Damian to head to Jason's. Not his house, no. Not the big stupid Manor with Damian's own room. He told Damian to go to Jason's apartment, because for some reason, Dickhead likes to make Jason's life harder.

That's harsh. Jason loves the brat, whatever. But he's also a little shit, and says things like:

"What are you moping about anyway? You can't find anything more useful to do with your time?"

"You sit at my table and eat my paninis, and this is how you talk to me?"

"It's not my fault that you're having a breakdown." Damian chides, biting into panini. Jason considers taking the rest of it and throwing it out of the window.

"What Damian is trying to say is that maybe we should try to find something else to focus on." Babs tries.

"He knows what I meant."

"Bold talk for someone that can't reach their feet fully on the ground while sitting on that stool." Jason snaps, pointing at Damian's socked feet, which don Wonder Woman themed socks. That are actually way too familiar. "Are those my socks?"

"You weren't using them. My feet were cold."

"You could at least ask before you start digging around my dresser."

"You weren't here." Damian sets the panini down, gesturing to the apartment around him. "I was here alone. Who was I going to ask? Your ugly picture on the wall? Todd's Ugly Picture, can I wear these perfectly clean socks?" He turns fully to talk at a picture of Jason and Roy.

Jason takes back his stirring spoon from Babs and plops it into the pot on the stove of Mystery Soup. Trying to stir calmly and not homicidally is far more difficult than it should be, and Jason is wishing he could go back on autopilot, but it's too late now. He has to think again, which is always a curse.

"You're not seriously that angry about the socks, are you?" Damian is reeking with 'you look pathetic' and it only serves to make Jason's eye twitch.

"No." He grits out, and Babs sucks in a breath, wheeling over to the counter to grab herself a plate of loaded baked potato.

"So? What's got your panties in a twist?" Damian leans his cheek on his hand, observing Jason with a calculated eye. It reminds him too much of Bruce when the damn man has a game going that no one but him knows about, that he expects someone to be clued in on.

Babs is silent now, picking at her potato with her fork. Damian decides he's had enough of waiting for Jason or Babs to speak, because he scoffs, sitting up straight and gifting them both his disappointed, holier-than-thou attitude.

"Is someone going to speak up? Is there something that I missed when Richard so rudely made me come here rather than be useful?"

"It was nothing important."

"Fucking bullshit." Jason bites, and Babs raises a brow at him. Jason doesn't care that he's bitching at someone who would kick his ass or send out whatever blackmail she has on him. He glares down at his stupid Mystery Soup with his stupid spoon and wishes that the anger didn't simmer like a boiling pot. "He's trying to drag another kid into this shit, Babs. I'm allowed to call it out."

"Jace, we both know that Peter would be far safer with one of us than he is by himself. I mean, he's got no supervision besides us patrolling nearby. Ohnn wouldn't be able to get near Peter if he was at the Manor."

"So that's what Todd is prickled about." Damian sounds like he had already gathered something close to that, and when Jason looks back at him, the kid is smirking. "So, what, did Father finally bring him to the Manor? Is that where Richard is?"

"No, he didn't." Jason breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth, trying to cool down at the thought of another kid getting pushed into vigilante shit.

That's what got Jason killed. That's how he ended up having that list of what he hates. That's how Jason found out what it was like to feel nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

"Peter didn't let him get that far." Babs explains to Damian, voice soft and tired. "I could only hear what was going on. He was talking to Tim and I like there was no problem, and then B came around and suddenly it was like the two of them were having a different conversation."

"Peter sensed he's full of shit."

"B said they'd talk more about what happened on the train, back at the Cave." Babs says, and Jason feels that electric spark of fury dig down into his spine.

The audacity.

After Jason had fully warned Bruce that he'd lose his shit if he even tried it, the World's Greatest Dipshit decided to do it anyway. Because he can't listen to anyone but his own damn self, like the egotistical shithead that he is. It's one thing that Peter is caught up in that shit with Ohnn and Tony, it's another to bring him into their lives.

Jason fully knows that once someone enters that Manor, they never really are the same person they were before. Peter doesn't deserve them or their messed up way of trying to care for each other. He deserves a nice house with good parents and a chance to get far, far away from Gotham city. Gotham is a place that circles, and circles, and circles, generation after generation, person after person, until someone is left sinking down the drain.

(Peter is already too close. Jason knows that, too. Maybe that's why it's worse. Peter might already be family, if what he and Babs are looking for ends up being concrete. It lights his skin on fire to think that Peter could easily get caught up in this world of theirs and never know peace like he had once had with that Uncle Ben and Aunt May of his, before they died.

Doesn't he deserve that peace? If there's a chance, even the smallest one, that Peter could get out before he's tied to them, shouldn't they make sure it's taken?

Does that make Jason a terrible brother? Does it make him more awful, more unforgivable, to know that Peter could be family, could be a nephew, of some kind, and Jason wants the kid to make a break for it? Doesn't it just sting and twist in Jason's lungs that he doesn't want his brother to be a part of that kid's life? That's exactly what he's thinking, isn't it? It's not, because Jason wants his brother to be happy, but what about Peter?)

He doesn't know what Bruce was thinking, other than he wasn't. Because anyone with any common sense would be aware that Jason hates the idea of Bruce taking on another Robin, another kid.

"No doubt that he caught Father's attention after that stunt he pulled." Damian leans back on the stool, hands behind his head. "I think he'll fit right in, don't you?"

"Like hell." Jason leaves the stove, and Damian matches Jason's anger with a smug smile. "Bruce isn't dragging another kid into this life."

"Just when I was beginning to think you were resurrected with your brain, Todd, you manage to prove me wrong." Damian taps his temple. Jason's jaw clenches and he grips the kitchen island with his hands to prevent himself from losing his shit. "Think, zombie, think. For two seconds. He's already in this life."

"Just because he's getting dragged into Tony and Ohnn's shit-"

"Wrong assumption. You're not this stupid, are you? I believed better for you."

"Damian!" Babs interrupts, and Damian sighs as if this was all such a hassle and personal against him. "What are you getting at?"

"You tell me." Damian grins, tapping his fingers against the counter and looking pointedly at Jason. "Why would Father bring Peter back to the Cave? Hm?"

"Because he's an idiot who wants me to kill him."

"He noticed the potential in Peter." Babs says, and she only digs in deeper, unafraid, when Jason looks her way. "It's true, Jace. Peter did take the detonator from Two-Face, and he's a clever kid."

"Yeah, kid."

"You're both letting personal feelings cloud your judgment." Damian rolls his eyes. "We all know you two want to steal Peter, but let me point out that Father meets plenty of children in Gotham that have potential like Peter does, or like Todd did. Let's take out of the equation that Peter has Richard's face."

Jason and Babs share a look.

They've spoken about this a few times since they both made the connection.

It's not like Peter has Dick's exact face. They're just very, very similar. And Babs had known Dick when he was that young, and Jason saw that picture, and they both would be remiss if they hadn't noticed the similar humor, the anger, the overall just… existence, of them.

Peter has Dick's mother's eyes, if the one picture that Dick has of them all together can prove. He has Dick's hair texture, those stupid dimples, the tan skin. Sure, the physical elements are there. But it's just that… Peter is so much like him, that it's hard to look over.

Their first thought was 'son', but how? Dick would have been 15 when Peter was born, it just didn't make sense. And then they thought about Superboy, and thought, 'please no.'

Peter has nothing tracking him back anywhere, no papers, no missing person's case, no foster system. It's like he didn't exist- or, he was hidden away for a long time. There's been references to people in his life: Tony, his 'foster Dad', who is an engineer, an Aunt and Uncle that took care of him when he was young, then 'Happy' and 'Pepper.'

If Peter is a clone of Dick, mixed with someone else's DNA… It just feels a little too much of a coincidence, everything that's been going on.

And the reason they haven't brought up this very important realization to Dick, the man centered around this?

As much as his worst fear is that he'd become just like Bruce, Dick sometimes can't escape the curse. None of them can, really. And if Dick found out that this kid exists because of him, clone or son or whatever, it's… not going to be pretty. Not because he'd hate Peter, no, not at all. It'd be the opposite.

Firstly, he would shut down near immediately. He gets tunnel vision sometimes, and with Peter already, he's pretty protective. The kid has clearly had a hard life, and the 'Grayson' tacked onto a kid's name that reminds Dick of the people he loves and himself? It would destroy Dick to think that he didn't know about Peter sooner.

His older brother has a big heart. He's the one that tries to stitch them all together, tries to keep the rest of them from drowning. Jason's death was to blame for that.

(Dick and Jason hadn't been brothers, when Jason died.

They had gotten so, so close to it. But for the better part of Jason's life Before, Dick had been so angry with Bruce that he was just… never around. Or if he was, the Manor was filled with screaming match after screaming match. They would go for hours, in a loop of yelling about the same things over and over again. And Jason had already come from a house of people who yelled. He had a fairly good idea (or so he thought, at the time) why they were always angry with each other: Jason.

Dick didn't really start coming around until shortly before Jason passed. In the After, Jason knows why Dick is so quick to love with his entire heart. He feels like how he treated Jason had been a mistake, and he can't bear to lose someone else. At least without them knowing how much Dick cared about them.)

He'd blame himself for what has happened to Peter up until now. And in the process, shut them out too, trying to find whoever is responsible for what happened and get answers. A pissed off Dick Grayson is not what anyone wants or needs at the moment, least of all Dick.

"Let's think outside of the box, yeah?" Damian snickers at them like a cat who has the cream. "What did Father figure out based on the facts of his case?"

"Damian," Jason says lowly, and Damian's smile actually does drop, as if he senses that Jason really is not in the mood for games. "Get to the point already."

"As far as I'm aware, Todd was left on Father's front doorstep." He says, looking at Jason as if to have him support the story. Jason nods once, and Damian proceeds easily. "He could do the same with Peter. 'Stay with the Waynes, you know them already, and their Manor is secure.' Or whatever he wanted to say. But he chose the Cave."

"Because he wants to indoctrinate Peter like he did with the rest." Jason hisses.

"No, because Peter is Spiderman."

A silence permeates over the kitchen. Babs stills, Jason's breath catches.

What did he just say?

Damian folds his hands together on the table. "Did you hear me? Or should I repeat myself?"

Peter is Spiderman.

Hold on…

Hold on????

Jason tunes out the sight of Damian looking all too pleased about their reactions to this. Instead, he's running through every interaction he's had with Peter in all the time that he's known him. Raining, kid at gunpoint, panicking, breathing so fast, curled in on himself, looking for a way out, defensive- then witty, clever, random facts? he sounds like Tim sometimes, concerned about Red Hood's identity, lying to him about Ohnn, but he's making progress- And he's thinking about Spiderman, and-

"That… Damn." Babs breathes out. "I can't believe I didn't consider that."

"You were far too focused on Peter himself. I expected better of you all, really. We'll have to work on that, because honestly, it's pathetic." Damian hops off of the stool and brings his empty plate over to the sink. He turns on the water and grabs the soap, saying, "I mean, how many times have you interacted with Peter? I met him only a few hours ago and I saw it immediately. Father must have clued in the second he saw Peter on the train."

Tim doesn't bother knocking on the door. He swings it open while holding a large box in his hands, setting it down on Jason's couch and striding into his kitchen without even a word of greeting. Jason is so caught up in the fact that he'd literally been duped by Peter, that he doesn't really pay attention to it. Nor would he even if he wasn't rethinking everything, because Tim always shows up unannounced and acts like he owns the place.

The time where Peter had those marks on his face from getting hit, that was the same night that Ohnn and Spiderman were reported to have been fighting in the city. Peter said that Ohnn had given them to him.

Well, no, he didn't. But it was pretty much implied that's what happened.

Jason knew that Peter wasn't telling the full truth with them- all of them knew, because that was just plainly obvious. But (ugh, this is terrible to admit, even in his head) Damian might be right. He might not have seen Spiderman up close, but the description of Spiderman and his timing and closeness to the case just… makes sense. And Jason had been a little caught up in Peter and the fact that he looks just like Dick, and dealing with the Arkham breakouts, that it just passed him by.

He puts his head in one hand.

That little shit.

He scoffs, running his hands through his hair. At first, Jason feels a prick of annoyance at the fact that he missed something that obvious. No doubt that Bruce is going to make a huge deal out of it. How many times had he made Jason 'focus on the bigger picture'? How many times did Bruce guide him through cases and make him take that step back to see everything that's going on?

He feels annoyed, too, because he'd been so angry about Bruce trying to drag Peter into this, but Peter already was? The entire time? And then he gives himself that leeway, reminds himself of just what Peter was like, and everything else that's on their plates, and he feels the annoyance give way.

In Jason's interactions with Peter, he'd been more skittish than he looked level headed. In all honesty, the kid had done a 180 today in terms of confidence. Like, he'd spent the better part of the month running from them as civilians and trying to dodge them as vigilantes, then suddenly he just shows up and starts hanging out with them or purposefully talking to them first-

Wait a damn minute.

Peter randomly shows up a few days after talking with Nightwing on a roof and then running from them like a bat out of hell. Babs had been frustrated with them as if it had been their fault that he ran… They had been talking about Tim when he left…

Jason bites down a laugh, shaking his head as it hits him again: Peter knew, didn't he?

Peter only actually talked to them as vigilantes, and he would run out on them as civilians. And suddenly he does a U-turn and has the confidence to hang out with them for hours on end. And he's been acting suspicious during that same hangout, as if there was no problem with them asking questions. There's only one conclusion that they can make that makes sense. Peter figured them out.

Stupidly clever kid. He wasn't just there to sniff out the enemy, was he? With that stunt he pulled on the train, it's clear that he was trying to tell them. Or that he didn't mind them knowing, now that he knew them.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." He bites, and Babs raises a brow at him. But Jason can't put into words just yet how annoying it is that Peter was going to tell them, and then Bruce just had to get involved.

"How does it feel, Timothy?" Damian gloats, scrubbing the plate clean as Tim grabs his own panini. "To know that I figured out that Peter is Spiderman far before you did?"

"I figured it out around the same time that Peter talked with B earlier." Tim sighs. Jason glances behind his shoulder to spot his older brother hanging in the entryway to the kitchen, leaning on the door frame.

Dick looks tired, which is to be expected. His arms are crossed in a way that he looks more like he's hugging them than he is trying to be defensive, and his hair mussed up like he'd been running his hands through his hair a lot. He watches them all, that same expression he gets on his face when they're hanging out together and no one is trying to kill each other. Which means he looks like he just went through a tornado, and the tornado is going to come back, but at the moment, he's content and tornado free.

After what Peter had pulled on the train, no doubt that Dick had been keyed in at least by the end of it, if not during. If Jason had been there, he would have figured this out too, without Damian's badgering. When Dick meets Jason's eye, he grins thinly, nodding at the silent question Jason sends his way.

So, Dick knows about Spiderman. But had he put together… the other thing?

Jason doesn't know if he would, if he was in Dick's situation. If some kid he had no idea was his came around and was in Peter's situation, he wonders if he'd even be able to tell that the kid looks like him. Sometimes, Jason doesn't know his own face.

"I figured it out while on the train, and I'd already been suspicious before then. I'll make sure to put that down in the file on Spiderman, back at the Cave." Damian sits back down in his stool next to Tim, who doesn't even outwardly react to Damian. He scowls when he doesn't get a reaction.

"So, we all came to the same conclusion then?" Dick asks, and Damian turns fully around in his stool to point at Dick.

"You!" He declares, and Dick points at himself.

"Me?"

"You figured it out and then sent me here!? How could you!? Did you talk to Peter without me?"

"I talked to Peter, but not about Spiderman. I don't think he knows that I know. And I sent you here because I didn't want you interrogating Peter the second we saw him again… And I needed to make sure Bruce wasn't going to do exactly what he did, but I was too late."

Dick is bitter, and Jason feels a validation in that petty anger. Of course Dick knew B was gonna pull something. (Of course he sent Damian away, just in case he got into an arguement with B. They don't want the kid seeing that kind of thing.) They don't exactly what that 'something' was, just yet, because Bruce hadn't said much else to them after that. All he had said was that they were done for the night, then brought him and Tim back to the Cave.

(Reportedly, as Babs had been the one to inform him of this, since she kicked him off the comm. ((Yes he is still bitter about it.))

Jason eyes Tim now. Out of all of them, Tim knows Bruce the best… In a way. Jason still doesn't know exactly what their dynamic is, but it's one where Tim knows Bruce in and out, and he's the only one that could ever get away with lying to Bruce's face. Somehow. And not only was he with Peter and Bruce when their conversation happened, he also had driven back to the Cave with Bruce. Which means that he knows what happened, and he probably knows exactly what Bruce is really up to.

If Tim is aware that Jason is expecting him to speak up and offer some wisdom for the class, he doesn't show it. Tim picks at his panini, pulling out the slices of salami and piling them neatly on his plate.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jason growls, reaching over the counter and taking the panini away from him. Tim blinks at his empty hand, then casts his stupidly creepy blue eyes up at Jason forlornly.

"I don't like salami."

"Then pick a different panini!"

Tim rolls his eyes, and like it's the most obvious thing in the world: "The others are vegetarian."

"And what's wrong with that?" Damian turns to face the freakazoid salami picker.

"This really doesn't matter as much as you three think it does." Dick sighs, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to his eyebrows. A habit he has when trying to relieve a headache. Tim opens his hand for his panini back, and Jason reluctantly gives it to him. No sense in making Dick's headache worse.

"What did B do?" Jason asks.

He holds the record in how fast he can make a room tense. Besides Damian, the others are fully expecting Jason to go grab a new duffel bag. But as much as Jason felt like being angry a few minutes ago, he doesn't have the heart in him right now.

"…I don't know." Dick says, and Tim purses his lips like he can sense that their older brother is looking at the back of his head. "I haven't gotten to ask yet."

Tim is looking guilty, picking at the rest of the salami. Jason wasn't there for whenever they met up on the way to Jason's apartment (nor does he know when they did, because Dick was dropping Peter off), but just based on Knowing Them, he knows that Tim dodged Dick's questions or tried to distract him, and Dick is being overly gracious about it.

"Firstly, how is Peter?" Babs interrupts. But really, she doesn't, because Tim was shoveling a panini into his mouth like he would die any second now without food and he was in no position to answer. Another attempt at dodging, no doubt. Jason pulls the plate over to himself so he can eat the salami and not let it go to waste.

"He was fine, really. I thought he was angry at B from what I heard on the comm towards the end of their conversation, but he didn't show it, if he was?" Dick shrugs, and a stupidly fond smile crosses his face. "Actually, he was more concerned about getting food. We can trust that Benny guy, by the way. It was enough that his record is clean, but he's also a pretty nice guy. When I dropped Peter off he was waiting downstairs, gave him a lecture I think Alfie would be scolded by, and then fed him, like, five burgers. He's pretty content."

"That's good," Tim reaches for a baked potato. "-I thought he was freaked the fuck out by B."

"He did pretty much imply he was about to kidnap Peter."

"…I was talking more about the scaring the crap out of him." Tim muses, putting an obscene amount of butter on the baked potato that Jason had made with all of his dissociational hatred, like some kind of freak that Tim is.

Any and all fondness on Dick's face is replaced by a calculated expression. It makes Jason look down at the salami, and Tim winces. That's the very familiar 'Dick is going to yell at B' face.

"Excuse me?"

"I was helping Peter up onto the platform and B snuck up on him." Tim explains slowly, having the nerve to meet Dick's eye. Dick isn't angry at him, but Dick getting angry at Bruce is not something any of them would like to see. They've gone an entire year without a fight, from any of them. They don't want to break the record.

"Snuck up how?"

Tim grabs the scruff of Damian's jacket, not letting go even when Damian slaps at his hand. "Drake, put me down right this instant!"

"He reached over and grabbed him like this. Peter looked like he saw a ghost, he sort of spaced out for a second. And then they were having some kind of cowboy stand off. B smiled at him."

"No he didn't, Mr. Pants on Fire." Jason protests instantly. Tim, still holding onto Damian's jacket, whips his head around to look at Jason, scandalized. Damian starts to take the jacket off, slumping down and slowly sliding off the stool as he sticks his head through the hole.

"He did!" Tim insists. "It was a bona fide Batman grin, I'm telling you. I was right there."

"Are you sure, Tim?" Babs winces, and Tim squawks in betrayal. "I'm just saying! It's a little hard to believe. B just fought Two-Face, you know how he gets after a Two-Face fight."

"Broody." Jason scoffs. Babs nods.

"Yeah, broody."

"I am sure, okay?" Tim heaves a dramatic sigh, letting go of Damian's jacket once and for all. Damian, having just freed himself, grabs the jacket back and jumps behind Tim to strangle him with the sleeve. Tim knocks back off of the chair, then swoops his arm back to try and grab Damian.

Dick walks over and separates them with practiced ease, pushing them away from each other. The two give up the fight but not without glaring at each other from either side of him. Dick sits down in the stool in between them, brow furrowed in contemplation.

"What is it, Dickhead?" Jason can tell when something catches Dick's attention.

"Hm? Oh, nothing." He shakes his head. Jason wants to pressure, because it sure sounds like something, if he's pretending it isn't. But… Babs and Jason have been keeping their own things to themselves, and Dick would not take kindly to being pressed to keep them in the loop without them doing the same.

It must show on Jason's face what he's thinking, because Dick adds on, "Just thinking."

"Dick, can you help me with the POB?" Tim asks. He walks over to the couch to grab the big box he came in with. From here, Jason can see there's already a few items inside the box.

"Oh, POB's a good idea!" Babs grins.

"Why are there so many shopping bags in there?" Jason raises a brow. Though he already knows the answer.

The guilty party smiles, rubbing the back of his neck. Dick spins in the stool, trying to sound innocent. "I got Peter a few things…"

"By a few, he means several jackets, shirts, and an ugly baseball cap." Damian rolls his eyes. "Richard was practically trying to buy the whole store. Peter had to talk him down." However, he pauses, looking over at Tim. "Would anyone like to tell me what a POB is?"

"Peace Offering Box." Tim replies, digging through the box to start looking at the clothes inside. He pulls out a horrendously orange Pumpkin Pi shirt that Jason hopes Peter will burn. Hell, Jason will do it for him. "Remember we got Barry one after his last mission in Gotham?"

"That box with the absurd amount of food was a Peace Offering?" Damian scoffs incredulously. "If he can't handle working with us, then he should just say so. He needs to keep up."

"Number one: he's literally the Flash. If anyone is catching up, it's us. Number two: that's exactly why we had to send a POB. We also gave one to Steph… a few times, actually. Oh, shit." Tim's eyes widen like a deer in headlights. "She's at the Manor right now."

"Um, yeah?"

"Did anyone tell her?"

"Tell her what?" Damian asks, but Babs goes "Oh."

"About everything that went down tonight. And about Peter, being Spiderman?" Tim winces. "She's gonna be pissed that she slept through this…"

"Maybe Duke or Cass caught her up to speed." Babs offers, already pulling out her phone to shoot a text Duke's way.

Tim recovers quickly enough, though he mutters something about possibly needing another POB. He stuffs the Pumpkin Pi shirt into the POB, coming over to Dick to rest a hand on his shoulder. He gives him a fake-solemn look, as if the request is far more serious than filling a box with things that someone would like or need.

"For no reason at all, I need your help with something in Jason's room."

"First my Wonder Woman socks," Jason laments as Dick jumps to his feet and hurries after Tim to Jason's bedroom, where his closet that he just organized is going to be ruined. "-And now this. Maybe I need to die again so they'll feel bad and stop stealing my shit."

Babs has no sympathy on his plight. She just laughs at him, setting her phone back down on the table. Damian, on the other hand, turns on them the second that Tim and Dick are out of the room. He puts both hands on the table.

"There's no use denying it to me." Damian whispers, keeping careful watch on the hallway to Jason's room. "Peter is related to Richard."

Jason and Babs mimic Damian, both glancing towards the hall. Jason leans over to hiss, "Be quiet, Demon."

"I literally whispered." He retorts. "I know you two have been investigating this without telling him. What did you find?"

Jason would really prefer to not have this conversation within potential earshot of Dickhead, but Damian isn't going to let this go. Babs presses her lips together, mulling over what to say and what not to.

"…It's hard to say." She settles on. "But based on the fact that there's nothing to find, so far… There's two options." She holds up a finger. "One: Peter is Dick's son. There's a 15 year ago gap there, and it could be explained. Two-"

"Time travel."

"-He's Dick's clone." Babs and Jason both blink at Damian. Babs laughs in shock. "Hold on, what? You think it's time travel?"

"It could be a possibility." Damian presses, though he sounds more unsure than he had a second ago. "Peter appeared out of nowhere, has no records of his existence, is related to Richard, has training and experience being a vigilante. If he was a clone, where had he been made that we didn't already have eyes on, and where would he have trained and operated at that we wouldn't have noticed? He also has an enemy that we knew nothing about until recently, who also popped up around the same time as he did. He's socialized with people, he has a history that he clearly believes in, so unless they gave him fake memories, he's existed since he was a child. And he knows our identities, and had been avoiding us for a while. Unless somehow, he figured out identities while you all were hanging around him?"

Damian pins them both with a look. He…

Well, okay, that does sound a little reasonable. Time travel isn't an impossible theory. However:

"I think if Time Travel was involved, the speedsters would have sensed something was up by now." Babs reminds him. "There would have already been other signs that time travel was used. And him being a clone explain some of your points too. Appeared out of nowhere, has no records of existence, is related to Dick."

"But-"

"We have eyes on the existing spaces that someone could make a clone at, but someone could have their own lab that we don't have access to. That would also explain how they'd have the space to raise Peter and train him, and… experiment on him." Babs frowns at that.

It's still unclear if Peter is a meta or not. Dick doesn't have a meta gene, but whoever he was cloned with could have one. It's either that, or Peter was mutated instead, which would likely mean experimentation. Peter had been very, very wary about telling them anything about himself.

"As for the enemy: he could just be a new rogue. And for the memories… Peter could either be lying about his past, or given fake memories. We've seen something like that before. The Riddler has done something like that." Damian frowns at her words, but he isn't outright opposing them. "And for the identity parts… Jason and Dick were talking about Tim, and I think that's when he connected us. Though I'm unsure how that led back to our identities, unless he figured out Tim, and by extension, the rest of us."

At this, Damian smirks. He leans back on the stool, putting his hands behind his head. "So what I'm hearing is that Timothy got us caught."

"We don't know that for sure." Babs reminds him.

"Uh huh, sure." Damian has definitely not let this go. "Todd, your pizzas are burning."

"My what?" Jason is taken aback, but then freezes. There's an odd smell in the air like burning bread, and Jason hurries over to the oven in a panic.

He opens the oven and smoke comes billowing out. He coughs, putting his nose into his shirt in an attempt to not breathe it in, and grabs an oven mitt so he can pull out the two pizzas, one by one. Babs wheels back to get away from the smoke, and of course this is when Tim and Dick come back with the stupid box in tow.

"This is why we don't dissociate while cooking." Babs mutters.

Dick leans over the smoking, charred bits of the pizza. "I think it's edible still."

"Get out of my apartment, I beg of you."

-

The last thing that Peter expected when he was so rudely awoken four mornings after the train incident- on Halloween day- was to have Loki appear in his room. Nor did he expect that Loki would be reading his books, and actually look interested in them.

Peter had sat up in the bed and squinted at Loki as the God Alien Whatever sat at his desk, thumbing through the first Percy Jackson book. Loki ignored him, continuing the read as if he belonged there. Which is sort of true, considering he has every right to be there, because he's helping Peter out, and it's not like Peter is going to kick him out. Peter has been anxiously awaiting his return.

Since Peter had not fully grasped the concept of being awake yet, he crawled out of the bed and went to his bathroom to wash his face. It wasn't until he came back into the room that he even really processed that Loki was there at all, let alone reading. Peter had watched him for a moment, and was mortified that instead of sounding cool and chill about this, his voice had cracked so abysmally when he asked:

"What are you do-Ing here?"

So bad, in fact, that Loki stopped ignoring him and raised a pointed brow. Peter thought about dying for a few seconds, and before he could walk out the window to follow through on that thought, Loki had decided to grace Peter with a reply.

"Nice hair." He had said, and Peter would not be able to fix the bed hair (half of it sticking up at a 90-degree fucking angle because the universe hates him) for the life of him.

Obviously, Loki had come here just to tell Peter what everyone is doing and also check if Peter himself is still alive and doing good. Peter would appreciate if this happened a little more often, but Loki just being here and willing to tell him is enough, for now.

And Peter eats up every word that Loki gives him.

Back home, it appears that Tony and Natasha are the ones fully on the case. Steve has been helping them, but Loki says there's always something going down. The rest of the Avengers are currently handling separate incidents. (Which is fine, 'cause Peter would never expect nor want the entirety of the Avengers to come looking for him.) Dr. Banner had recently come back and he's been sitting with Tony, the two of them trying to figure out ways to get around no magic-users being available to come get Peter by making the way to this universe by themselves.

Here comes the bad news, because there's always bad news to go with the good: Ohnn had showed up, and apparently with him came the knowledge that he's definitely working for somebody, or has a partner in all of this.

Peter had also theorized this way back when he first got here, because of how strange Ohnn is, but it's nice to have confirmation once and for all. Peter didn't really appreciate thinking that he could start fighting Ohnn and someone else would get involved without him knowing. But the who that could be working with Ohnn is hard to predict, and there's a suggestion that made Peter's skin crawl.

They confirmed that there were drones that helped Ohnn escape from Tony and Steve, and that they had been sent from the direction of OSCORP tower.

Peter, in true Peter fashion, has never discussed the full story of just how he got his powers. All that he would really tell anyone, including Tony, was that he had visited OSCORP and he had gotten the bite a week before Christmas Day, the year he turned 12 years old.

So of course, the idea that they are directly involved with kidnapping Peter is not a good one. In fact, it makes him sick to even think about it. The company that did this to him having hired Ohnn or… Well, they don't know the relationship there. Even outside of them potentially knowing that Peter is Spider-Man, there's the fact that Tony has not been kind on them since he found out they were involved with Peter's mutation.

Business deals are cut, they get snubbed at all those charity events and galas and shit, Tony isn't quiet about his dislike for Norman Osborn, etc. It's almost hard to imagine that they wouldn't hate Tony after that, because their investments have been dropping ever since. And if they found out that Peter was Spider-Man, on top of the shit with Tony? It's not looking good for them.

That's where Loki came in.

He went looking for what could prove their involvement in this, but found nothing in the company itself. Since the encounter with those drones, they hadn't seen signs of Ohnn, either. The technology for the drones isn't listed anywhere in OSCORP's private servers, which means they hit a snag trying to locate who is responsible for those drones. It could still be OSCORP, but without the confirmation, they have to find other avenues to look at.

Loki had clearly been about to ask Peter about his spider bite, and because Peter likes to pretend that day never happened, he had interrupted with the first thing that popped into his mind: updating Loki on his life since he last visited.

It leads to what they're doing at this moment.

Peter's room is littered in notebooks, pens, markers, and his work tools are strewn about on the hardwood floor. Peter sits among the chaos, scribbling everything down in his notebook that he has set on his crossed legs. Loki is standing at a whiteboard filled with notes about radar meteorology, nanite technology, and "theoretical" physics, adding onto the equations. But what he's really interested in:

"I just knew you had it in you." Loki muses, an uptilt to his writing on the white board that shows Peter he's in a great mood. That, and the amused grin on his lips. "I thought that those mindless Avengers would try teaching you to be 'responsible' and 'make smart choices'-"

"They do that."

"-but there's a spark of defiance in you that I believe should be far more encouraged." Loki continues on as if Peter hadn't said a word. Peter rolls his eyes at this, but he does think it's… sort of cool that Loki likes this story so much.

Loki is actually a really great listener. Even when Peter rambles and loses the point of what he was trying to say, Loki will ask a question and bring him back on track. What started out as something that felt like a mission report turned into Peter getting excited to tell Loki what happened next.

He told Loki everything that happened since he last saw Peter: going to the library a couple days after he saw Loki and figuring out the Bats' identities (Loki had smirked at this and wouldn't clarify what that was about), meeting counterpart Happy when he was all freaked out and finding out about Tony and Pepper in this universe (this time, Loki had pressed for details, and Peter regrettably didn't have that much to go on, just his inferences).

Then he told Loki about meeting Robin and befriending the Bats as their civilian identities, going shopping with Dick and Damian, going to the fair. Now this, Peter figured, wouldn't be that interesting. But Loki had asked all about the details of the fair, and he didn't seem to mind that Peter talked about his feelings around Dick, which are really confusing. Loki hates feelings, which means it's suspicious he asked, but Peter doesn't know just what he could do with this information to hurt anyone, so he lets it slide.

During that conversation, Peter felt like he was catching up with an old friend at a sleepover. The side ramblings about Peter wanting to add nanites to the Jumping Radar had interested Loki, and Peter had asked about Loki's thoughts on Tony and Banner's work (he wants to see what they wrote down, because it feels good to see their progress).

So while Loki is writing down what he's seen of Tony and Dr. Banner's work, Peter had told him all about Two-Face, the detonator, and messing with the Bats. Loki thought this was the funniest thing in the world, and Peter only preened a little bit at making him truly laugh.

"What I wouldn't have given to see their faces when you showed you had that detonator… Perhaps I shouldn't go back so soon."

"You want to stay?" Peter's head shoots up. He hadn't expected that.

Immediately, he's torn. Loki staying means that Peter wouldn't be alone all the time. Sure, he has the Bats, sort of, but they're not from home. But on the other hand, Loki staying means that Tony and Banner will be down a heavy hitter, and it sounds like Ohnn and this mystery partner of his spend more time in their home universe.

Loki shakes his head. "No, not actually. As great as the story is, I would rather die than live in a place so filthy. This entire city is mottled with a curse that makes me feel like I am stepping in horse shit."

"…Have you stepped in horse shit?"

"Not the matter." Loki waves him off. "Continue. What happened after you gave Red Robin the runaround?"

Peter snickers a little, looking back down at his notes. Little Legs is crawling on Peter's shoulder, trilling next to his ear. Peter raises a finger to pet them, mulling over what happened next. And that's what makes him sit up straight and claim:

"Batman is going down!"

Loki looks away from his work, eyebrows raised up high. He tilts his head at Peter. "I would be remiss to point out to you, Spider, that proclaiming that you are going to fight a hero might make some believe you are a villain."

Peter's face flushes red, and he sputters out, "No- I didn't- I meant- Not like that…" He huffs, turning his hand with Little Legs to watch them crawl and avoiding Loki's eyes. "I meant I'm gonna get him back."

"Not any better."

"Ugh!" He groans, flopping onto his back on the floor. He bonks his head on the Percy Jackson book, then decides to use it as a pillow. A very hard, not comfortable at all, pillow. "Okay, so like, Oracle had told us to meet Batman at a station, and I didn't think much of it until I got there, right? When we got there, I was gonna tell Red Robin about me. Actually, I was gonna stick to the wall and then climb up it and scare the bejeezus out of him-"

"Bejeezus can not be a real word."

"It is because I said it." Peter pouts at being interrupted. Loki lifts one hand up in surrender, tacking on to one of the formulas up there without missing a beat. "But before I could do that, Batman snuck up on me."

Loki pauses again. "On you?"

"Yeah!" Peter is glad someone else is here to recognize how crazy that is. "My spider-sense hadn't felt him coming at all! He picked me up, Loki! He got close enough to grab me, and I didn't know he was there. Actually, he was super lucky my spider-sense recognized him and my reflex to kick him didn't go through." Peter knows that wouldn't have been a pretty sight. He still has a hard time pulling his punches.

"Batman is a mortal." Loki's brow furrows. "How would a mere human, no powers or anything like it, figure out how to get around your spider-sense?"

"That's what I'm saying!" Peter throws his hands up in exasperation. "And I know he did it on purpose, too. I dunno what his game is, but he definitely challenged me."

"What did he say to you?"

"Well-" Peter pauses. "He, um… not really anything like that."

Loki goes quiet, and Peter peeks up to see that he doesn't appear impressed.

"Don't give me that look!" He sits up again. Little Legs crawls into Peter's hair, settling behind his ear. "He challenged me! Firstly: he grinned when he realized that he got me. Secondly: he directly pointed out to me that he caught on to my spider-sense on the train-"

"What did he say?" Loki insists, and Peter groans in frustration.

"Can't you just take my side?"

"I can not believe that I am saying this, but quit being dramatic." Loki flicks the air between them, but Peter feels the flick on his forehead. Peter smacks a hand over his eyebrows and does not pout about it.

"He was like," Peter then lowers his voice to that stupid Batman growl thing, and Loki is flabbergasted by the flawless impression (in Peter's oh so humble opinion). "'What were you thinking when you pulled that stunt?' and then I said, "Maybe I live for the glory of it. Maybe I'm an attention seeking brat.'"

Loki chuckles at that, setting the marker down on the whiteboard and giving Peter his full attention.

"And then he was all like 'Hm.' Because he speaks in grunts, apparently," Peter rolls his eyes. "And that's when he said, 'Somehow, I find it hard to believe that. I didn't see a brat snatch a detonator from Two-Face or knock out three armed men then dodge a bullet that was coming at him from behind.' Which means, clearly, that he knows! He figured out not only Spider-Man but also the spider-sense, because he's a big fucking nerd."

"Sounds like you're just bitter that the man knows about spiders."

"It's my thing, Loki!" Peter whines, because he is so allowed to. "Like, Spider-Man! Spider-sense! It's like a friend! My spider-sense has never let me down! No one sneaks up on me. Except maybe you. But it's expected of you."

"Good to know you do not have an ego about it, though a tad hypocritical considering you had scared Red Robin prior to that." Loki points out, but what does he know? Red Robin and Batman totally deserve it. Loki contemplates his next words carefully. "So, why does it bother you that he did it?"

Peter doesn't know. How is he expected to know? Something about Batman makes Peter want to be a rebellious and annoying teenager. Before, it was just because Peter had trust issues but Batman's reactions were funny. But now, it's like… "He challenged me."

It's just that simple. Batman challenged Peter, and Peter is not a loser wimp who backs down.

"Where was the challenge?" Loki reiterates.

"Trust me, if you were there, you'd know what I mean." Peter thinks, anyway. Is this just something that he and Batman only understand? "I dunno, I think he knew I must have been following them at some point."

"You followed him?"

"Just for a little bit!" Peter protests how Loki sounds proud of the stalking. It only gets worse when Loki is grinning like he's all too pleased that Peter had done this. "I wanted information on them, and they were stalking me, so it seemed only fair! But after the train, I think Batman wanted to show me without telling me that he knows about my spider-sense and that I'm Spider-Man. I mean, he knew it would press my buttons for him to assume I'd be going back to the BatCave with them."

"The what now?" Loki scoffs as if actually offended by the name. "Who do I have to blame for that ridiculous name?"

"Nightwing." Peter answers absently, too busy thinking about Batman.

Peter's right, isn't he? Peter knows damn well that Batman knew he wasn't going to go back with them that night, identity reveal or not. And Peter also knows that he's walking right into a plan of Batman's, though he doesn't know just what it is, just that the motivation is probably a kidnapping. Jason had told him Batman has a problem with that.

But trap or not, Peter always finds it hard to back down from a challenge. Batman basically said, 'Your turn. Show me what you got.'

Well, if Batman wants to see what Spider-Man is made of, Peter is gonna show him.

"I guess what I'm getting to is… Um…" Peter hesitates.

How many times have the others talked about Loki? How many 'delightful childhood stories' had Thor told Peter about, where the gist was 'don't trust Loki without expecting something crazy in return?' The answer is: Peter has heard this so many times. But Loki isn't all that bad, now that Peter's talked to him a few times. So Peter looks up at the other, and hopes that Loki is feeling amused and gracious enough that he will help Peter out.

"What's my best chance at getting Batman back?"

He's never seen Loki light up so fast before. A grin splits across his face and he turns the desk chair around to face Peter. When he sits down, he folds his hands together and is eager enough that he leans forward, delighted by this outcome.

"I have been waiting for this day to come." Loki hums, a dastardly twinkle in his eyes, like he's sharing a secret with Peter. "You are talking about just something that is in good humor, are you not?"

"No stabbing." Peter clarifies. "Thor told me all about your pranks as kids. When I say I wanna get Batman back, I mean like, I wanna mess with him. Like… Oh, like 'confuse, don't abuse.'"

"Have you ever read 'The Art of War'?" Loki asks suddenly. He shakes his head no, and Loki takes a moment to think. Peter's never much delved into literature outside of textbooks and sci-fi, or whatever May had been reading when she was alive.

"What could war have anything to do with this? It's just a prank."

"A prank that you want to be successful, right?"

"Yeah, but-"

"There are many aspects of the Art of War that can be applied to any situation. Whether it be war, a prank, or your life itself. You forget that I grew up among Asgardians." He explains, and Peter listens with rapt attention. It's been a minute since he's gotten a lesson from someone knowledgeable. Loki clicks his tongue as if he expected that much. "You mentioned to me that you feel as though you are getting to know Gotham well."

Peter nods, a bubble of excitement building up. He's learning from the God of tricks and stories. And that God was actually paying attention to what Peter was saying earlier. Loki is a lot nicer than people give him credit for!

"You might be getting to know Gotham, but these heroes have known Gotham all their lives. This is their territory that you are stepping on, Spider." Loki points out, but Peter already knew that much. "You do not know the terrain as well as your opponent, that much is non-negotiable. But what you do have is an ability to play to your strengths. Know yourself, and know your enemy."

His brow furrows in thought, and Little Legs makes it's way towards the back of Peter's neck.

"My spider-sense." Peter says, when it's clear Loki is expecting something from him. The eye crinkle tells him he's got it right. "But Batman found a way to get past that."

"This is your ability, Spider. You will be surprised what one can do when they listen to themselves. Adaptability is another lesson. Adapt your tactics and strategies to the changing circumstances."

"Alright…" Peter nods, hoping that Loki is right. Peter wants to win this challenge that Batman has for him, and he's definitely going to prove that he's not going to be a sidekick. Peter supposed that to start with… he'd have to figure out how Batman got past his spider-sense in the first place.

"Lesson two: Deception and Surprise." Loki says. "Mislead them about your intentions, feign a weakness."

"Like 'Get Help'?"

Loki freezes, and then a scowl crosses his face. He narrows his eyes at Peter like he'd just uttered a curse upon Loki's name. "What did that fool tell you."

Peter, not looking for that kind of problem (never get in the middle of a fight between siblings), chooses to change tactics. "What 's lesson three?"

Loki grows quiet, but accepts that it's not important right now. "Avoid Protracted Warfare. Meaning you cut the enemy down swiftly and precisely. Unless, of course, you plan to play the long game."

Just as Peter is planning to ask what could count as a long game, Peter's spider-sense flail up. Little Legs' digs into his skin as if sensing Peter's own worry, scurrying to keep out of sight. He lets go of the pen in his hand so as not to break it when he tenses up, and a moment later, Loki has cut himself off mid sentence, also feeling someone approaching them. Peter's eyes snap to the window-

there friend hello! hello! hi!

-just as two boots land on the fire escape. He freezes, knowing in his heart of hearts that this is a terrible time for Signal to be on his fire escape with a big box in his hands.

Loki doesn't disappear as Peter expects him to, nor does he change forms in an attempt to hide. Peter is confused, but he doesn't know why. It's not like Loki has to hide, there's not really a reason to. But it feels like Loki should be hiding, because Peter's pulse has skyrocketed higher than the damn space station.

Peter's eyes widen and he doesn't have the heart to stand up to greet Signal. It's almost comical what the scene is at the moment. The room looks like a mess of coding and formulas on a big whiteboard, tools and smaller engineering projects that Loki was helping him with on the ground- oh shit! The Jumping Radar is in plain view on the floor. Peter kicks it under the bed just in time for Signal to open Peter's window to catch the two of them.

Signal- Duke, Peter reminds himself- stops halfway through stepping into the room. He balances the big box on the sill, his mouth dropping open in small suprise. watching watching tense nervous tense watching! screams Peter's spider sense when Signal spots Loki sitting next to the white board.

Loki, because his face is just built like that, gives Signal the most suspicious, Corporate sleaze-bag smile, and waves at him without a word, relaxed as can be.

"Um. Hello." Peter manages to get out. Signal's attention snaps to Peter sitting on the ground.

Signal's heart is racketing around his chest despite looking so outwardly calm about the situation. He brings himself all the way inside the room, dumping the box onto Peter's bed. watching watching watching. Peter's own heart feels like it's fluttering. It's like he's gotten caught red handed, but he doesn't know why. This is worse than that time May caught Peter trying to make that erupting volcano science project in his newly cleaned, carpeted room.

"Hey, Peter." Signal greets with an easy smile. He nods at Loki, but doesn't take a step closer into the room. Honestly, he's great at appearing like something about Loki hadn't freaked him the fuck out. "I'm just dropping something off for you. Little box of essentials. We, uh, thought you could use them."

"Could have used the door." Loki suggests. Peter closes his eyes, praying for peace.

Though Peter can't see Signal's eyes, it feels very much like he's looking at Loki when he asks faux-cheerily, "This a bad time, Peter?"

"N-No, all good. We're all good. Time is great." Peter stands up. It takes only a couple steps to reach the bed with the box on it, and Signal is opening it up for him to look inside. Peter tries to look calm, he really does, but based on Loki shooting him an amused eyebrow, he likely doesn't succeed.

"I haven't met you before." Signal says, maybe to both Loki and Peter. He pulls out a pink and white container of- food? Yeah, food. Excellent. Peter loves food. Real life-saving thing, food is. "I'm Signal. Friend of the Bats, but 'course, that's a little easy to tell."

He's probably referring to the multiple bat symbols on his suit. The big white one. The one on his helmet mask thingy.

"Yeah, you're pretty cool." Peter says without thinking. Which is true, 'cause Signal is pretty cool, but the timing of his words makes Peter want to bash his head in. "I'm Peter- ah, sorry, you already… knew that. This is, uh-"

Loki doesn't offer up his name, leaving Peter fumbling like the rat he is. He doesn't even look at Peter, just at Signal, who's leaning to look at the whiteboard with the work that-

"-Tony."

-has been doing… that Loki…

No…

No…

Peter winces as soon as it hits him what fell out of his own mouth.

He did not just say that. He didn't. What is wrong with him? He was thinking about how he hadn't actually told the Bats his identity yet and he was literally just talking about pulling a prank on Batman, and he considered that maybe it wasn't the best idea to get caught before he could do anything. But seriously?

He felt like he couldn't say 'Loki' without it sounding like the weirdest or fakest name ever, but he couldn't pick ANY OTHER NAME? He thinks about Tony for a second and he runs his mouth? He seriously needs to get a fucking GRIP! First he had blurted out 'Grayson', when Peter had several other options to choose from and he had nothing going on in his head. But now TONY??? His poor foster dad that the Bats probably think still abuse Peter even thought that is certainly not the case?? He just gave that to Loki to have?

Peter needs to throw himself into the sun.

No- he needs to dig a very large hole, burrow far deep into the ground, and let his body rot into nothing but dirt.

tense worry not happy!! !!!! !! tense bad bad dislike

It's like Peter has a habit of pressing the worst button possible. It's like he looked at a huge switchboard full of buttons that said "safe option" and his dumb ass tripped and bonked his forehead onto the button that said 'literally the worst ever do not press unless you want everything to go wrong'. Which would be hard to put all that onto a button.

Loki stands up instantly, not caring that Peter is looking at the window behind Signal like it might not be too late to make a break for it. He reaches out to offer his hand to Signal, who hesitates, but shakes it. They both have a tight grip. Signal is probably doing it to intimidate Loki, but Loki is 100% doing it to bother Signal.

Is the prank even worth this?

… Batman had messed with his spider-sense.

But Signal didn't do anything!

But Batman messed with his spider-sense! Who's to say Signal isn't gonna run and tell the other Bats everything that happened here the second he can? Batman knows Peter is going to retaliate but Peter should at least be able to keep the how he's gonna retaliate to himself!

"You're the Tony I've heard so much about?" Signal has the fakest smile on his face that Peter has ever seen.

"Yes, that is me!" Loki has the realest smile on his face that Peter has ever seen. "I'm sure it must be a pleasure to meet you, Signal."

Yikes. Okay. Peter pops open the container of food to avoid looking up at the scene in front of him. He doesn't care what it smells like, looks like, or even if it might be poisoned, whatever. He shoves whatever it is into his mouth and stress eats as the two men talk.

Oh. This is rather good, actually. (The food. Not the peril that Peter is in.) Great, even.

"I have heard a lot about you as well from the child." Loki says, reaching into the box to pick up a jacket that's inside. It's a leather one that looks pretty worn, and Loki hums at it apathetically. Signal's jaw tenses, and Peter takes a slow breath. "What is all… this for?"

"These are just some things that we thought Peter might want or need." Signal replies, a significant effort to keep his voice light. "Some jackets, scarves too. Heard that he might want some new pants. A friend of his brought him the bags that he left at the library the other night."

"Well, isn't that so nice of them to go out of their way like that?" Loki muses. "What were you doing at the library, Spawn?"

Loki knows damn well what Peter was doing, because he was literally just telling him all about it. Peter picks up the metaphorical shovel, trying to reason that this is his business and Batman doesn't get to know about it until Peter has decided he can, and replies, "I went to visit some friends."

Peter uses his hands to shovel more of the mystery food into his mouth. It's like heaven. What is this? They're little balls of fried something, with rice on the inside. And cheese. He likes rice, and he likes cheese. Peter's never had something this good before. Isn't that swell?

"We noticed that Peter might want something new to wear. And you know, it's getting cold outside." Signal gestures to Loki's coat- ah, shit, the very nice looking coat that Loki wears 'cause he's extra. Peter, in comparison, has been wearing the same two and a half outfits for the past month, and here's Loki wearing a nice coat. "Nothin' to it, really. Just wanna make sure the kid's warm and safe, right?"

Rice balls. Peter is adding this to food he likes. He has a list, you know.

Much better than the list of crimes he's committed. Pick pocketing, stalking… Grand theft auto- that was a misunderstanding. Art theft… That one was Black Cat's fault entirely. She told him she was stealing it from some rich schmuck that stole it from someone else and Peter got it returned to the right place in the end. Loitering, once. Some computer crime…s…

"Oh, yes, sure." Loki sounds noncommittal to that, and Peter wonders if Gods have alternates of themselves, in these silly dimensions. Which God can he ask to turn back time? "Hey, you."

Peter is mid-way through shoveling what must be the fifth rice ball into his mouth. Loki and Signal both look at him. Peter is sweating profusely in his pajamas. "Fuh?"

That meant to come out as 'Yeah?'

"You should thank Signal and his friends." Loki says. Peter regrets thinking that people gave Loki too much shit. Because he's making this the Worst Experience Ever on purpose.

Signal is not pleased by what he's seeing, despite Peter looking So Casual and Cool and Calm and Chill about this. Peter swallows his food before he can choke while trying to speak, his face getting red when he still almost chokes, and while wanting to die a million times over, Peter says: "Thanks, Signal."

"It's not a problem, Peter." Signal reaches over to ruffle his hair, smiling as nicely has he can. And Peter knows he's trying, cause it's clear that Tony-Loki being here just pisses him off. Didn't someone tell Peter that Loki just has that aura about him? That people get pissed sometimes when they look at him, even if he hasn't done anything?

Peter closes the empty container (holy crap, he stress ate so fast, cause that thing was full of those rice balls) and he spots a sticky note he hadn't registered, sitting on the top. There's neat, cursive handwriting on the pink sticky note. "This is suppli. Hope to see you soon- Alfred Pennyworth."

He almost laughs.

"Um, and thanks to Mr. Pennyworth." Yes, thank you, Alfred Pennyworth, for giving Peter something to eat, but also for gracing Peter with something stress eat. That made everything more bearable.

"I gotta get going, Peter. Stay safe, alright? No more stunts." Signal claps his hands, but he's not happy. Peter observes how his feet remain steadfast on the ground, and how he seems to be leaning forward ever so slightly, like he could jump to protect Peter at any moment. Signal wants to stay. He wants to make sure Peter is safe- from 'Tony.'

Peter is going to figure out how to catapult himself into the sun. For being an awful awful person. Just for a little longer… Just long enough to prank Batman and decide where they go from there.

He smiles, hoping to all hopes that the message gets across. I'm fine please don't freak out. I'm okay just trust me on this. "I'll see you soon!"

It's with that that Signal leaves, not shutting the window behind him. It takes another few strained seconds where Peter is listening to the vigilante's footsteps actually go away and not stick around in order for Peter to relax at all.

"Oh my god." He flings himself face down on his bed and lets out a huge groan. "This is just great. Why didn't you stop me? No- Why didn't you-"

bye friend! gone!

Peter pushes himself back up to look around his room. Loki has left him as well.

Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy? Why why WHY him?

He sits up on his bed, looking at the mess around him. He's… got a lot to clean up. And reflect on. And think about, in general. Like Batman, and the Bats, and how they're totally gonna freak about Loki-Tony. And-

"Whoa!" Peter gets a good look at the jacket that Loki had picked up. It's a black, leather biker jacket. There's only one patch on the arm, something that Peter has seen on some kids before when he was passing by Crime Alley. It's a red square with a white border, and coming out of the frame is a black eagle in flight.

His eyes glance over to his desk, where a sewing kit he got a few days ago is waiting.

…Maybe Peter can contemplate what Loki taught him while he gives the jacket a few more patches.

-

Bruce likes to think that after all this time of being a father, that he knows his kids well. Or, well enough. He could never be so arrogant as to assume he knows what is going on with his kids at every second of their lives, even if he would prefer it that way.

('Father' as much as he can be, because he still feels like he falls short of that role every time.)

He knows that Tim isn't as hung up on coffee as everyone worries he might be. Not to say that Tim doesn't have an unhealthy attachment to it. It's just that when Tim isn't so caught up on a case or school work or whatever has caught his eye, his boy is more prone to take power naps anywhere and everywhere than he is to pick up the coffee mug. He once caught Tim sleeping curled up on the stairs, one book in his hand as if he had decided midway through going downstairs that he wanted to sleep.

And Stephanie, she loves flowers. Adores them, is the better word. She likes to arrange them in perfect spots around her room or her apartment and she has a book about the flower language memorized, because it was a gift from her mother. Every Sunday, Bruce sends her flowers, along with Barbara and Cass. Stephanie loves the flowers the most, and she always sends him a picture of the arrangement in the nicest spot she could find for them.

He likes to store away the memories of their habits, keep them close to his heart so he can look through them when everything in the world seems all too dark and brutal. Just as he remembers Jason's love for Jane Austen, Duke's appreciation for Christmas lights, and Damian's fascination with planetariums, Bruce remembers Dick, and that fiery passion he bore for all to see.

He remembers his first son who laughs when he leaps, arms spread out for flight. He remembers anger that ripped through even the mightiest of men, and he remembers playing games with Dick on the nights where patrol was slow.

Games like 21 questions and Eye Spy, when they were still new to each other, still trying to gain a common ground. The games went from learning stories about each other, like that Dick had once gotten his tongue stuck to a pole somewhere in Minnesota and went cliff diving when he went to Greece one year, became something more set in their present time. They had a game about naming the strangers on the street and giving them backstories based on what they saw- dreaming up lives for people. Dick always held a hope for them, always gave them happy endings.

Eventually, Bruce learned that Dick always responds to a challenge.

Alright, maybe Bruce had learned this from Alfred, and it wasn't a trick that he learned all on his own. Bruce himself had not been an easy child to raise, especially not after his parents passed. One night, Bruce was at his wits end trying to figure out how to keep Dick from getting bored and not listening to him while they were out- Bruce himself, taking away the Batman persona and the shiny car and tools, was not that interesting to be around, no matter how hard he tried to connect to this kid. At least, in his opinion. So when Alfred told him a secret he'd been using on a stubborn Bruce for years, and it had worked?

He'll always be grateful that Alfred has been with him all this time.

A challenge that he'd give could be as simple as suggesting a race to the next stoplight, or how many pick pocketers they can spot, or being the first to say 'Banana' when they see a yellow car.

Or, it could go deeper. When he knew that Dick needed to look at a case with fresh eyes, but knew the boy wouldn't take kindly to the reminder (sometimes days were bad, days where grief started to stain and grow bitter), Bruce would challenge him to a game of chess, or a puzzle, and Dick would let the case sit back in his subconscious while he was so focused on beating an 'overconfident' Bruce. He'd jump up from his seat with the biggest grin on his face when he managed to one up him.

This technique also worked when Dick was being particularly stubborn. Which is why, when Bruce looked at Peter and saw Dick at his most heel-dragging, kicking and screaming, petty and headstrong, he knew that unless Peter got to know Bruce, the kid would refuse to take a step into the Manor or the Cave. No matter if he had told them that he was Spiderman or not.

Spiderman… if Bruce hadn't been so used to the fact that teenagers will near always choose the option that stresses out the adults around them the most, he would have lost his mind when Peter pulled that stunt on the train.

It didn't take much for Bruce to connect that Peter is Spiderman, not after seeing him in person again after looking at the Spiderman case. The boy who was smack talking Two-Face (so, so not a good idea) had the same personality from the sticky notes left behind, and from the bewildered witness statements. Bruce, just like Damian, wanted to see what Peter was up to. He knew that Peter had some kind of plan, and it involved talking to Two-Face directly or getting close to him. The best course of action at the time that kept Peter from getting shot or killed was to go along with the set up he had been given, because of Peter.

(That is how Damian had barely got away with not being grounded for not stepping in. It was only because Bruce had done pretty much the exact same thing. Bruce has learned his lesson on being a hypocrite- his kids will point it out so fast they would all get whiplash.

Though because Bruce had done this, Dick has been giving him the cold shoulder these past few days. This is much more preferable than the screaming matches they used to get into, but it still is not good at all. Bruce just hopes that when this works, Dick can forgive him. Getting Peter into the Manor sounds like a good apology for the case with his first son. Not so much with Jason…)

Peter definitely lived up to the curiosity that he and Damian both had. Bruce was very, very concerned with his safety, so there was not a chance he would have let it get too far- if Harvey hadn't let Peter go, Bruce wouldn't have listened to Dent, end of discussion. Bruce was hoping exactly for that outcome, and was relieved when Harvey let Peter go, keeping Peter out of the direct line of fire.

That's when Bruce saw him switch the pen for the detonator.

Peter is a brilliant, clever, and persistent kid. Bruce doesn't know where he came from or what his past truly is, but he saw his son in that moment. He decided then and there that Peter would have a room set up in the Manor within the day.

(Maybe he does have a problem. But who can blame him? This time, the kid has his son's face.)

But he knew that Peter wouldn't go back with them, even if he was planning on telling them his identity. (And getting interrupted while doing it.) He has some sort of trust issues and had actively avoided them for weeks as civilians. He constantly kept up the secret identity despite knowing at a certain point that they would be able to help him. Why else would he do so if not because he likes to keep people at arm's length? That wouldn't change if he had told them his identity. Peter would still not come with them, and the goal is to get Peter home.

So Bruce defaulted back to what he knows used to work on Dick: a challenge. A game. Something to get to know each other.

That sense of Peter's is truly incredible, he hasn't seen anything like it. It's not so much just the boy's hearing as it is the ability to detect danger around. And not so much 'danger' as it is sensing vibrations in the air, like a spider. That must be where the name comes from, right? Spiderman has the webs, the ability to stick to walls. Bruce had a hypothesis that Peter likely had the same ability… Getting past that to sneak up on Peter meant risking a hit from a meta or mutant that can stop a bus, but it was a risk he had to take. It also explains that ability of his of always knowing when Batman was nearby.

Although he will admit he hadn't meant to spook him so badly. It's probably a testament to just how well that sense of his works, if he had been so shaken that Bruce got past it. He wonders just how many people are able to do that.

Peter took the bait- willingly. He likely knows that Bruce has a reason for this challenge, likely thinks Bruce just wants to see what he's made of. Tough, kid. Bruce is a master of the long game. He'll sit it out, wait however long it takes for Peter to dance closer and closer to trusting him.

There's nothing like a good game to bring people together. Even if the game is that Bruce is asking for this kid to prank him.

Damian is across the library, laying on the ground underneath Titus. The Great Dane is laying all of his weight on Damian's chest, his black fur glittering more towards brown in the sunlight. Damian pets him idly, his eyes closed and somehow comfortable on the ground like that. Tim, on the other hand, is sitting across from Bruce at the table. He's just awoken from his third nap of the day, and he still manages to look tired, but he's staring Bruce down while Bruce thumbs through the newspaper. He prefers the old fashioned way to get the news, sometimes, and Riddler is expecting Batman to have done today's crossword puzzle.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Bruce glances up at Tim after five minutes of no movement.

"What are you up to?" Tim asks, blunt as ever. Bruce grins as he turns the page.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"With Peter." Comes the dry response, telling Bruce that Tim knows he's being dodgy. "You stopped him from telling me. Why?"

Bruce takes a moment to reply. Sure, he could have let Peter tell them, and try to challenge him anyway. However, he knew that his children had figured it out nearly the same time that he did, so they wouldn't be missing that information. He also knew that Peter would be more likely to accept the challenge if he had a reason to.

Reason: Batman managed to get around that sense of his, after all that time of using it against him.

"I have a hunch." Bruce tells him. Damian peeks open an eye from where he lays. "About this time tomorrow, Peter will already be at the Manor."

Tim continues to stare. He's always had a talent for seeing through Bruce and being able to read him. It's why, to no discredit of his other children, Bruce believes Tim might really be the World's Greatest Detective. Just young, and in need of the wisdom of having a fully developed frontal lobe.

"Alright." Tim concedes, after finding what he wanted by staring Bruce down. He lays his arms back onto the table and rests his head, closing his eyes.

"…Alright?" Damian presses, sitting up. Titus moves to rest his head on Damian's lap instead. "Alright? That's it? You have nothing else to ask, Timothy?"

"What else is there?" Tim mumbles.

"Oh, I don't know, how about 'Father, where do you believe Peter came from?' or maybe 'What is the hunch?' Common sense questions that come from deductive reasoning. I know you have it."

Tim lifts his head back up to look at Damian. The younger boy crosses his arms, already resuming his stance to not let this go. "Why don't you ask, if you want someone to so badly?"

"Fine. I will, if you won't." Damian looks at his father. Bruce grabs his pen to start the crossword, preparing himself. "Father, I believe Peter is a time traveler."

"That isn't a question, chum." Bruce writes down Creeds in 4 across. A creed or credo is a profession of faith, or a system of belief or principles. "Why are you so sure?"

Damian hesitates. Bruce casts his gaze towards him, making sure it's a normal hesitation and not something he missed. It appears that Damian is just reflecting, and not put off by Bruce doing the crossword as they talk.

"…Todd and Barbara already had this discussion with me."

Bruce tries not to let Jason's mention sting too much. He just hopes that Jason comes around- Batman does not need another Robin, but Peter sure needs someone to take care of him, even if it isn't Bruce himself. Being at the Manor is the best option, unless they want to hunker Peter down in one of Jason's safehouses by himself, or in Dick's apartment in Bludhaven that only has one real bedroom and is constantly a mess.

"We'll get our answers in due time, Damian." Bruce writes down Kinship for 12 down, and Attachment for 16 across.

It is at this moment that Tim's phone rings- the lyrics to Backyardigans blasting so loudly that Tim jumps out of his just gotten sleep, and fumbles for his phone. Blinking back into alertness, he puts the phone between his shoulder and his ear.

"Mm- Duke?" Tim rubs his eyes blearily, then goes perfectly still. "Whoa whoa whoa, slow down, dude. What's wrong?" His tone makes both Bruce and Damian sit up straighter. Bruce abandons the crossword on the table as Tim's eyes widen- both disturbed and shocked. He makes eye contact with Bruce. "You what?"

Tim is already putting Duke on speakerphone.

"-is a fucking god!"

"Slow down, son." Bruce says calmly.

Duke sounds panicked, almost, but mostly he sounds angry. Which isn't all that normal to hear from him- actually, it's not that normal to hear from him on the phone when he's out on patrol. He'd use the comm line to talk to Babs first, unless his first instinct was to call one of them personally.

Damian is now on his feet and standing at the table as well, arms crossed and glaring at the phone. Before he could demand to know more, Bruce interrupts. "What's going on? Start at the beginning."

Duke takes a moment to collect himself, but when he speaks again, it's dripping with dislike.

"I met Tony."

Now that catches all of their attention.

Tony, as in the man they hadn't been able to even confirm exists? Bruce was just about to go looking into unsolved cases they haven't had any alerts on to see if he ended up being connected to those. Tim had even considered at one point that Peter also knows Tony doesn't exist, and was lying to keep himself from getting reported as a homeless kid.

The more that Duke catches them up, the more angry he sounds- his voice rising and trying to take a deep breath, but then getting angry all over again. "When I dropped off the POB just now, he was visiting Peter. Some sleazebag looking dude- I mean, seriously. Seriously! Never met anyone with a sketchier face! And Peter looked so freaking scared, too? He stress ate all fifteen of those suppli that Alfred made for him while I talked to Tony. And this dude? He fucking sucks, man! I talked to him for all of like, five minutes, maybe less, but I wanted to punch his stupid face in!"

"What did he say?"

"Is Peter okay?" Damian asks. There's a glimpse of fear in his eyes, as if already expecting the worst. Bruce rests his hand on Damian's shoulder, and Damian leans into the touch.

"He looked unharmed?" Duke doesn't sound too sure. "He was pale and sweaty and definitely stressed out. Tony didn't offer much- he just said that he heard about us from Peter, and was totally unconcerned about the fact that Peter needed us to bring him some warm clothes. Which, by the way, Tony has the ability to get him decent clothes, or rich people clothes in general, because the coat he was wearing for himself was at least 500 I'm pretty sure, so fuck this guy majorly for dropping Peter in Gotham without the needed supplies for anything. And then he- ugh! I just. I dunno. He got under my skin when he made Peter thank me for the box. Not that that itself is wrong, but the way he said it! It was like he was trying to piss me off!"

Bruce watches as both of his boys mimic the anger that Duke is displaying, and what Bruce himself is feeling as well. He hadn't liked the idea of Tony from the moment they heard about him, and it only grew the more his kids reported about how alone Peter truly was. Now that Tony is confirmed to actually exist, and Duke is this worked up about it…

"They were working on something together, I think. I didn't get a good look at it, because Tony blocked my view of the whiteboard. But it was some pretty complicated math. Didn't you say Tony is an engineer?"

"Yeah, Peter said he's a brilliant engineer, but that he didn't know much about his work. Guess that isn't true too, but I already thought that." Tim replies, a set to his jaw and one finger tapping on the table with irritation. "What were you saying about someone is a god?"

"Dude." Duke gets serious, voice dropping low. "Tony is."

"…Excuse me?"

"I saw it. You know, light gets all… bendy, around certain people- like the demigods! Like Wonder Woman, she shines, you know? But when I looked at Tony, it was just like when I'm looking at a straight up God. Or something fucked up, man. I think Tony is- well I don't know what he is, but he's a deadbeat one, whatever it is."

"Is- Is Peter a demigod? How could we have missed that?"

"Not that I can tell! Ah, shit, I gotta go. Mugging." Duke hangs up, and Tim sets his phone down on the table with an exhausted sigh.

Every time that Bruce thinks that he starts understanding the situation with Peter, something else gets thrown into the mix.

"Oh god," Tim's eyes widen. "B, you don't think Dick had a kid with a God, right?"

"No, Tim. I don't think that happened."

"What if he grew super fast?" Tim hasn't really heard him. He bites his nails, casting his gaze out the window. "That explains the weird age gap, because Dick wouldn't have had a kid when he was 15. How do I ask my brother if he banged someone recently?"

"Shut the fuck up." The words tumble out of Damian in pure horror. Bruce had only seen this reaction from him when he watched Milo and Otis for the first time. "Never speak again. In fact, if you even try, I'm going to rip out your tongue and staple it to a door to warn off curses."

"Damian, don't threaten your brother with ripping out his tongue. I can't believe this has to be said." The brunt of this entire conversation is hanging over his head like a guillotine. "Tim, I have to agree with Damian on this one. You don't have to ask him anything, nor say the word 'bang' in that context for the rest of your life."

"But it could be the case! Oh, god, please say it happened before Wally," Tim adds on to the growing horror. "I can handle a few murderers in the family but we need to draw the line somewhere."

"You can-" Bruce feels a wave of calm wash over him. Like a blessing, that calm carries away the pain. With that, Bruce stands up from the table, back to wondering about the real problem: How the hell he's going to investigate this when the kid is setting up to get payback on him. " Can you call Dick? I'm going to go start looking through the files we have on known gods. We're swinging by to talk to Peter during patrol tonight."

"B, it's Halloween." Tim stands up from his seat.

He doesn't protest like any other kid would- Halloween isn't a time for trick or treating, not for vigilantes or civilians in Gotham's case. The holiday manages to bring out the worst from anyone wanting to stake a claim on Gotham or trying to put on a show. Firefly is still out there, too, and because he hadn't done anything so far, they assumed tonight would be when Firefly strikes.

"I haven't forgotten." Bruce promises. "We're all going to be out tonight. Steph is going to be running comms with Babs, so we'll have eyes everywhere."

"You think Tony's gonna run off if we don't catch up to him." Tim hits the nail on the head.

"We can't miss the chance to ask him questions and get clarity on the situation with Ohnn. Let's just hope that seeing Tony didn't make Peter close off again."

-

Peter's pulled pranks before.

Granted, the fun-loving ones had been back when Aunt May and Uncle Ben were alive. He used to like Halloween because it was a time for tricks, and he could dress up in costumes that he and May made together. He liked hand making the costumes, learning how to sew on all the details to the fabrics and wishing he could wear them other places when the holiday was all done.

The fun pranks with May and Ben had been things like hiding smiley face stickers around the house or putting slinkies in the cup cabinet. He had gotten that from Ben, he thinks. Ben liked to pull little tricks all the time. When Peter was around 7 years old, Ben had told him that he had to eat the Starbursts with the paper on, and so he did. To which Ben laughed for hours, and then days, and then months, and years, remembering Peter chewing on a wrapped Starburst and making a sour face.

Those are all fine and were in good fun. Peter hadn't known that he had a severe petty streak in him until he started getting bullied at school.

Tying people's shoelaces together when they weren't looking because they pushed him down in the hallway, shredding their geometry homework when they tried to steal his asthma inhaler, and one time, he tricked some seventh grader into locking himself in a bathroom stall that was overflowing and making him wait for the janitor, which was 100% deserved because he tried to stick Peter's head in that toilet.

But he wanted this prank to be good, he wanted something that would show that Peter isn't gonna be hard to mess with. The problem is… Peter has limited resources.

He's not gonna spend a bunch of money pulling this prank, so Peter really had to get creative with what he has on hand. As he sticks on the windowed wall of the tallest building in Upper West Side, he awaits with bated breath for this Halloween to get to a proper start.

Gotham is unusually quiet today. It's like everyone has locked their doors and boarded up their windows, awaiting a storm readying it's way to blow past them all. He's seen very little cars on the streets, and whereas in New York, every bar would be covered in drunk college students wearing the ugly version of their favorite childhood characters, Gotham's University District was covered in a thick layer of silence when Peter made his way over here.

Peter rubs his hands together, the wind breezing past. It makes him thankful that he decided to do something with that jacket after all.

His suit doesn't have thermoregulation, not yet. He wanted to add that to his next one- he thought he'd be making a new one soon, actually, and if this hadn't happened, he might already have it- but things didn't work out that way, obviously. That means that the farther into fall that they were getting, the more that Peter would be suffering. He had to risk some of his flexibility in order to wear a jacket.

He added a lot of detail to it, though. He wasn't kidding that he used to sew when he was a kid, and he's only gotten infinitely better at it after the spider-bite. He had gone back to the Gotham Academy after hours to get some new webbing, and since that meant he had extra, Peter used his webbing to make more patches.

On the left sleeve is Red Hood's patch- Peter thinks it's some kind of symbol that he gives to people in Crime Alley? He'll have to ask more about that later. Underneath that, Peter had added a blue X patch. On the left sleeve is a black and white patch that looks like the eyes of his mask, a black spider on a red background, and an Iron Man patch. Both sleeves have white webbing now stitched in that mimics the webbing patterns on the forearms of his suit underneath. And on the back of his jacket is his spider-symbol, bold and proud.

It's warm, it looks cool, and it's entirely on brand for Spidey. A little risky because it can identify him easy if someone else finds it, but Peter's not planning to wear it out unless he's in his suit anyway.

Besides- the pockets are holding the rest of what he needs for his prank on Batman. He had already stashed his backpack back at Benny's after pulling off the first part of his plan. Now, Peter lies in wait.

He knows one of them is going to come by any second now…

THERE! hello hi friend! fast!!

Peter stands up in a flash. He was right! Just the Robin that he was looking for has swung by, right on time. Peter runs after him, thwipping a web to a building across the street and jumping off the side of the building.

Robin's cape flits by, barely noticeable among the black and yellow of Gotham. Peter is sure that Damian designed the Robin look this way on purpose, because he's heard from Gothamites that the first Robin was all about flashy colors. If it wasn't for Peter's spider-sense tugging him in Damian's direction, nor the fact that Peter's webbing makes it easier for him to swing around, Peter wouldn't have noticed Damian in the first place. Damian lands almost silently on a rooftop of one building, casted in the shadows. He watches as Damian walks underneath some metal grating for a platform up to a billboard.

There's no Batman in sight, which is how Peter wanted this to go. He wants to prank Batman, not Robin. Unless, of course, Robin wants to stand in his way. Or the others. Not only would this stand as a warning for what Peter's about to do, it also is a chance for Peter to see if Damian made the connection between him and Spider-Man.

Peter swings himself to land upside down on the platform. The lights from the city don't reach this far back, and his eyes adjust to the darkness quickly. He tilts his head as he spots Damian standing at the end of the walkway, crowded between the metal of the billboard on one side and the stone wall of the building next to this one. He's crouched down next to a funny looking gargoyle, ready to pounce as he observes the streets below.

He stalks silently behind Damian, stopping just behind him, eyes catching on the katana at Damian's hip. That's… something.

"Trick or treat!"

!!!!!!!!

Damian reacts instantly. He's pulled the katana out lighting quick and turned, one foot on the ledge and the other providing more stable footing on the rooftop. Peter hears the uptick of his heartbeat as the sword almost catches Peter's nose. It was so quick that Peter's spider-sense couldn't tell him much besides that danger was coming.

"This is not a treat." Peter frowns, pushing the sword away from his face.

The sword lowers to show Damian glowering at him, nose scrunched up in distaste. Oh, yeah, that's definitely Damian in that cape, alright. The mask can't seem to hide the crippling, constant disappointment that Damian carries for everyone. He scoffs, sheathing the sword at his side as he glances up at Peter's feet on the grating. "What freak house did you come from?"

"Does Robin not carry candy for the poor souls of Gotham in all of those pouches of yours?" Peter ignores him and unsticks, landing right-side-up on the rooftop. He puts his hands in his jacket pockets. "Actually, I don't see any trick or treaters. This city is capital S 'Sad', dude. I haven't seen one pretty-robot-warrior-princess-power-ranger or cowboys or dragons, all in search of candy and fun."

"This is Gotham. Any candy that is passed out would have razor blades in it."

"You know what? I've heard about that too." Peter sighs. "You gotta be next level demented to mess with somebody's Snickers bar, man."

"What are you doing here, Spiderman?"

"I'm here to- Hold on." Peter hesitates, squinting his eyes at Robin. "Ask me that again."

"…What. Are. You. Doing. Here?" Damian lowers his voice and drags out, annoyed at having to repeat himself.

"No, say Spider-Man."

"…Spiderman."

"That's what I thought." Peter shakes his head. "No, I can't have that. Spider-Man. It has a hyphen, you're not saying it right."

Damian's mouth drops, and all that comes out is, "Are you being facetious with me?"

"I'm being so serious right now."

"What do you want?" Damian jabs a finger into his chest, the whites of his domino mask narrowing when he furrows his brows. "I'm not repeating myself again."

"What, can't I visit my favorite Robin?" Peter asks. Damian doesn't believe him for a second. "Okay, geez, touchy. Maybe I came to catch up with you, how about that? You don't want to talk to me? I thought you'd have a lot to say."

"Tt. I have plenty to say. Like how stupid you were to back-talk one of our most unpredictable rogues, for instance. You were practically flaunting your identity around for everyone to see." Damian sounds like he's scolding Peter, which is so not cool because Damian is literally Peter's age, and trying to sound like he's older.

"Not flaunting." Peter protests, coming to stand side by side with Damian on the ledge. "At least, not for everyone. Just wanted to make it fun, see if you guys would figure it out."

"You think we're idiots? We'd have to be blind not to be able to tell. No, even a blind person could hear your bad decisions a mile away."

"How many of you know?" Peter had assumed that they would all know, by know.

"All of us." Damian smirks. "Did you plan for that?"

"I didn't really plan anything, to be honest. The train thing happened on the spot. I do my best work under severe amounts of pressure. Just ask my AP teachers." Peter puts one hand behind his head, looking out at the city below. This is a pretty cool spot- it shows an overview of the park in the Diamond District across the street, Wayne Industries down the road, and a local bar that is, once again, suspiciously empty for a holiday. "I didn't really start planning anything out until recently. Someone told me that my 'go-with-the-flow' way of handling things was gonna get me killed."

"There is something seriously wrong with you." Damian states flatly, and Peter laughs. "It's not funny, Gra- Spider-Man. Two-Face is a formidable opponent."

"And he was beaten by a 14 year old with a Batman pen." Peter shrugs. "Crazy how things work out, right?"

"The others are worried about you." Damian points out, and Peter winces. Right, that doesn't stop just because they know his identity now. "About what you did."

"Were you?" Peter questions, and Damian's lips press into a line. Caught. "You stopped him from cutting in. You knew I was doing something, and you could have interfered. But you didn't."

"I wanted to know what you were doing. I figured you out, and I wanted to know if you were stupid enough to get yourself killed." Damian adamantly defending himself, and Peter raises his hands in surrender. "Which: you are."

"Don't bite my head off, dude." Peter can't help but laugh again, to which Damian scoffs at. "Whatever your reason was, I wanted to thank you. It worked out just like I hoped. Even though I'm sure it's probably 'cause you thought I was cool, but whatever. I'll let you have that one."

"Don't put words into my mouth." Damian punches his shoulder.

"Uh huh, sure, sure." Peter smirks, and even though there's a mask on his face, Damian must hear it, because he shakes his head in frustration. "But, say, I was wondering something… Your dad kind of double dog dared me-"

"Father has never uttered those words in his life-"

"-and I ain't a chicken, so I'm wondering if your help with my plans stopped after the train."

Damian goes silent, turning his head away from the street to look at Peter. Instantly, Peter feels his spider sense twitch: curious? He can't help but grin again- He had a suspicion that Damian would be down for this kind of thing.

"…What do you have in mind?"

"I had a friend of mine say that I need to know my opponent. What's something that Batman wouldn't expect me to get without him noticing?"

Damian's mouth lifts into a wicked, eager grin. "I'm listening, Spider-Man."

Peter pulls out his comm from his pocket- the Stark Tech, not any Batman one. He pulls up his mask briefly to put it in his ear, stepping off of the ledge and sticking his feet to the side of the building. He looks up at Damian. "How about I tell you on our own frequency while we swing around? You can catch me up."

-

"Oh, you're here. To what do I owe the displeasure?"

"Nightwing." Bruce greets him nicely, because the ass refuses to rise to taunts like that. He comes to a stop next to Dick as he sits on the rooftop.

He'd just come to a stop and decided to take a break. The city is quiet tonight, and it doesn't bode well for them. Halloween is as it always is: every Gothamite awaiting with bated breath, staying inside, and praying to whatever God they believe in that it won't be their home that gets caught up in the shit storm that is brewing overhead.

It's times like these that Dick wonders if Gothamites naturally adapted to the curse that hangs over Gotham. Even without being directly told, people just seem to know when something is brewing. Half of the hostages in the Two-Face incident a few days ago told police in their interviews that they thought about taking a different train, but they wanted to get home early.

That could be a hindsight effect, however. What was more interesting was that everyone on 'Team B' told the police not a word about Peter besides that the kid hit the lever to the window. Now that is something Dick wants to study, or talk about. Not whatever Bruce wants to.

And he has a good idea what it is.

"Sorry, there's not any young orphans around here for you to let endanger themselves."

Dick has been avoiding Bruce since that night. It's likely unfair, because what else was Bruce expected to do if Peter was held at gunpoint and he had to deal with Two-Face?

Oh, right! There was Nightwing and Robin right there. In the same car.

Ugh, again, unfair. Bruce wanted Dick to trust him with Peter and the situation at hand, without backup, so they could get the other hostages out and then maybe have Dick find another way to get involved. Dick could get all of that just from Batman telling him to 'Go, now.'

(Hadn't Bruce said that before? A part of Dick still isn't over that period of his life where he thought Bruce didn't want him around anymore, where Dick avoided him like he's doing now, thinking he had Bruce thinking 'Go, now.' that same exact way).

Dick hadn't done what Bruce wanted. He got the hostages back to the station safe so they could evacuate, but he had sent Damian back to Jason's (Why? Was it because Dick felt the need to keep Damian away from Bruce, sometimes? Despite the fact that Bruce is Damian's father?) and he himself had stuck around to stop Bruce. Because he knows Batman, and Bruce, and he knew that something was going to come up.

And it did. Because Dick is always right.

Bruce has no response to Dick's mean spirited jab. Jason's death is still a bitter and raw experience that they can't relive again. Stephanie's death that had ripped Tim apart, too, and- Yeah. No. Not now. Revisit that another time, and focus only on the fact that Bruce didn't even talk to them before deciding on something with Peter.

"I know I butted in." Bruce sighs, and he brings himself down to Dick's level. They sit shoulder to shoulder, looking out at the city. "I hadn't meant it that way."

"You never mean it that way." Dick retorts. "You do it, and then you realize you fucked up, or you don't. Either way, it's the same result every time."

"I'm sorry." Bruce says. And his voice is so gentle that it startles Dick.

He looks up at Bruce and doesn't see the defensive man he used to be. Bruce is… open. He's not trying to cover himself in multiple layers of walls, with locked gates that no one can get through, no matter how hard Dick tries.

"I should have at least let you know what I was planning. I've never been the best at that. Or good at it at all."

"Tell me about it." Dick snarks weakly. He's more confused than he's ever been in his life. A genuine apology from Independent and Emotionally Constipated?

"I don't think Peter would have come back with us despite telling us his identity. And I think that's mostly because of me." Bruce admits. "He doesn't know me like he knows the rest of you. He's talked with you all inside and outside of the suits. He's only met me once, as Batman, and it's not a secret that he doesn't trust adults, specifically. I…"

"…You what?"

Bruce looks at him. Another time to hate that stupid cowl on Bruce's face, the fact that Batman is always covering up his body language, even in times like this. But it's his voice that strikes Dick as being nothing like Batman, and everything like Bruce.

"I think that if he and I come to an understanding, where he knows that we stand on equal ground, he'll be more open to the idea."

It's… not a difficult concept to grasp. It makes sense- because Bruce always has to make everything make sense. Peter doesn't trust adults, and the one time he spoke to Batman before the train, it had been a short conversation. If Peter somehow finds an even footing with Batman- with Bruce- it would help. Though Dick doesn't know how sneaking up on Peter is the way to do that.

Tim said that Bruce had freaked him out after grabbing his neck. It didn't have anything to do with that scar, did it?

…It might. There's a good chance that it did. He's aware that there's an ability that Peter might have, something to do with vibrations in the air. He had done some research on spiders in the time since finding out about Peter. He still has yet to see just what level that ability is at, but it could explain why the kid is so good at sensing when people are nearby him.

But that scar is at the back of Peter's neck, and he had been so adamant about Dick not asking about it. The way the scar looked- and Dick has seen a lot of scars in his lifetime- it came from something sharp, maybe jagged.

Bruce doesn't know that. He probably saw the scar, but then again, the hood that Peter wears and the bulk of the new jacket made it hard to spot.

"It's killing you that the kid knows our identities and he's not home, isn't it?" Dick doesn't even have to phrase it as a question. He knows that that is the case.

"There's a few reasons why I want him home." Bruce replies. But then adds: "That could be one of them, yes."

"He's smart, isn't he?" Dick smiles. Peter is clever, wickedly so. A troublemaker, for sure, but Dick has never not known someone that fits right into their family that doesn't cause a heap load of trouble. "How much did you hear?"

"Didn't he call Two-Face an old shitbag?"

"He did." Dick laughs, brushing some hair out of his face. "Now that I'm not panicking that he's in imminent danger, that's actually hilarious."

"He's got a strange sense of humor. Like you do." Bruce bumps his shoulder into Dick's.

"My sense of humor is amazing, thank you. I've spent years crafting it into perfection."

"If I laid out all of the jokes I've heard in my life, from you specifically, onto a table, 90% of those jokes would be puns. Terrible puns, at that."

Dick bumps his shoulder back. "I save them up for Cobblepott the most. He hates all of my sea-related puns, 'cause I make them bad on purpoise."

"You should be fined for that."

"I'd make you pay it." Dick replies easily.

"And that would be what finally makes me go bankrupt." Bruce jokes, a hint of a smile on his face.

Dick is about to reply with a clever little hit about how Bruce could buy planet Earth and not go bankrupt, when boots land on the roof behind them. They both tense up, but when they spot Damian, they relax again.

"Hey Baby Bat." Dick revels in the way Damian's nose scrunches with distaste. Putting 'Baby' to any nickname annoys him every time. Damian strides over to them with a grunt as a greeting. Dick scoots over so he can plop himself down between the two of them, legs over the side of the ledge.

"Nothing on this side?" He asks, ignoring Dick's wonderful greeting.

"No, nothing yet." Bruce replies. "Firefly would target a more densely populated area, though, so that's expected. Black Bat and Red Robin are patrolling through Chinatown right now. I told them we'd meeting them in Old Gotham."

"There's not a lot to target besides neighborhoods this year." Damian says. "No parties, no gatherings, no trick-or-treating. If no one is going to come out, then Firefly is going to to go to them instead."

"That's what I'm afraid of. But with this Firefly, there's no way to tell where he's going to strike until he does." Dick sighs. He hates the Fireflies- there's been multiple over the years. They're arsonists with a penchant for tech. They bomb and destroy whatever they can get their hands on. "At least with the other versions, we could gather where they're going to set up their first strike. This one does it randomly, so long as it strikes a lot of people."

"Have either of you heard from Oracle yet?" Bruce asks. Dick and Damian both shake their head. She's probably still talking to Red Robin and Black Bat, since their neighborhoods tonight are more populated, and therefore, more likely to be targeted.

Firefly causes more destruction and deaths in one blow than most of their rogues do. The others build up over time, make plans and cause problems that way. But Firefly doesn't care what they hit. They collect their equipment and place their bombs, and that's when they're ready to go.

Wanting an update from Oracle, Dick raises his hand to his comm. That's when a blur of red and black swings past them, a loud smack! and a whoop that cutting through the air. Bruce is pushed forward but catches himself on the ledge before he can tumble down. Spider-Man lands on the building opposite of theirs, a lively laugh echoing down the street.

Dick smiles- first at the sight of Spider-Man, of Peter, doing alright and causing trouble. Then, because he recognizes the jacket that Peter has on. It's the same one that he can Tim had pulled out of Jason's stash of jackets and patches, that he keeps around to give to kids in Crime Alley. It's a symbol of protection, a warning to everyone that Red Hood would get revenge for them. Peter put more patches on his jacket, but Dick can't see them clearly from this far away.

What he can see is that it's Spider-Man's jacket. Because when Peter turns around to point at the back of his shoulder, it looks like he's just showing off the big Spider-Man logo on the back. But then he calls out, "Look what I left for you!"

Bruce brings a hand to his shoulder and pulls off a bright red sticky note. In big block letters, Peter had written down:

CATCH ME IF YOU CAN, BATMAN!

-Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man

Dick laughs- startled, firstly, but when he reads the note he just can't help it. Across the street, Peter yells out, "Tag! You're it!"

Dick doubles over himself, not bothering to hide his amusement. He slaps one hand on his knee, nudging Damian to find that the boy has a delightedly wicked smirk on his face as well. Peter takes off into the night and Bruce is already on his feet. Bruce has the nerve to have a gobsmacked look on his face, as if he can't believe what he just got into.

"Well? Go get him, B!" Dick hollers, clutching his stomach. "This part of your master plan to get him home? Huh?"

"I already told him you wouldn't lose, Father." Damian stands up as well, readying his grappling hook. "The clock is ticking. I said you'd catch him in fifteen."

"This can't be the only trick he has up his sleeve." Bruce grunts, tucking the sticky note into his utility belt and taking off. Damian isn't far behind him, but Dick needs a second to catch his breath.

Holy shit, Dick loves this kid! He hadn't known that Peter would actually rise to the challenge, but maybe he should have expected that. After seeing Peter so skittish this past month, it's nice to see that he's got a wicked sense of humor.

Dick presses his comm and tightens his grip on his grappling hook, swinging to catch up with the trio. Before Babs can say anything, Dick breathes out, "You'll never guess what just happened, O!"

"You sound delighted. Did you win the lottery? Are you giving me a million dollars?"

"I'd give you the world." Dick lands on a roof and runs along behind them. He sees the swoop of Batman's cape in the night sky, falling downwards towards the top of an apartment building. Robin is not long after him. But the fact that he can't even see Spider-Man yet? He's hit with another bout of pride so strong it's like it's gonna knock him over. "But no. Spider-Man and Batman are playing tag!"

"P-Spider-Man is out?" Babs laughs incredulously. "Oh, I gotta tell the others immediately."

Dick only manages to catch up to Robin when they get closer to the Gotham Natural History Museum. Robin stands on the taller building next to it, observing the duo below. He glances towards Dick when he lands next to him, Dick stepping all the way to the edge to get the best view as he can. He doesn't want to miss a thing.

Batman and Spider-Man are down there, alright. Batman is trying to tag Spider-Man in a back and forth game that looks suspiciously like Ninja. Bruce goes to tag Peter's arm, but Peter spins out of the way and slaps another sticky note to Bruce's back. He ducks underneath Bruce's arm and turns to face Bruce's back, bouncing on his toes and getting more space between them.

"Come on, Batman, I know you're old, but are you slow, too?" Peter teases lightly. Dick crouches down, a wide grin on his face- delighted to see that Bruce is grinning too.

Peter hops over Bruce when the man ducks down to tag his arm. A sticky note is slapped onto the back of the cowl, and from here, the drawing looks like it might be a very poorly drawn Batman symbol. Peter falls into a roll, bouncing up lightning quick onto his feet again. Bruce almost gets him, however, by swinging his leg out to swoop under his feet. Peter jumps to avoid it, and narrowly misses when Bruce almost tags his shoulder.

"Okay, not slow or geriatric- yet." Peter admits, falling flat on his back on purpose to avoid Batman. He kicks up at Bruce's chest, forcing him to dodge, and flips over himself into a runners start. "Do you like the sticky notes?"

"They're on brand for you. Oracle likes your drawings of dogs, by the way." Bruce comments, far too amused.

"Oracle has great taste." Peter isn't just fast, it's his reflexes that are the most impressive. He catches himself and makes up for his mistakes so quickly that it's hard to tell there was one.

"What's the plan then, Spider-Man? We aren't just playing tag here, are we?"

"What, are you too good for tag?" Peter runs along the skylight, flipping to get out of Bruce's way. "You gotta get in touch with your inner child, dude. Otherwise you're gonna be old and sad."

"Wise advice from a preschooler." Bruce says. Dick and Damian both hold their breath when Bruce barely grazes Peter's shoulder. Dick calls out that it's not a tag at the same time that Damian does, but their input was unneeded because neither Peter or Bruce hesitate to continue the game. "But you're dodging the question."

"And dodging you. I'm doing good at both of those, aren't I?" Peter sounds oh-so-proud of himself.

"Robin," Dick nudges Damian, who waves him off, eyes on the scene below. Dick nudges him again, unrelenting. "Robiiiiin! Tell me what the game plan is!"

"How do you know if I know?"

"You made a bet, which means you talked about it." Dick points out, and Damian scoffs. He thinks on it for a couple heartbeats, his grin widening slowly. "Oh, you so know. Tell me? Tell me tell me tell meeee-"

"Just watch!" Damian insists. "I know he's good, but there's no way he's that good."

"Good at what?" Dick complains. He wants to be in on the joke too. Is it because he's old now? Is he too old to be in on the jokes?

But he relents, finally, focusing entirely on the game. Dick recalls when he and Bruce played tag a million years ago, it wasn't as easy for him as it is for Peter. It took him years to get used to Gotham the same way that Jason or Tim were used to Gotham. And Bruce is no slouch either, he never goes easy on them. Sure, he'll let them win sometimes, but he doesn't make it a quick game.

They had almost the exact same scenario near here, before. Though, it had been interrupted by Catwoman and a heist that they definitely didn't just happen to stumble upon. (That's a secret that will go down to their graves, together. Catwoman still thinks that they had figured her out.)

Every time Bruce gets close, Peter is just out of reach all over again. Except, for a game of tag, it's a little stationary all of a sudden, isn't it? They had gone from swinging through the streets and parkouring over the buildings to sticking to one spot… Dick squints down at the two of them.

What is Peter planning?

It's gotta be good, if Damian decided he wanted in. He used to say that pranks are beneath them, but Dick thinks he's finally gotten Damian into the brotherly spirit. He's getting pretty good at being a backup when Dick wants to prank Jay. But Dick has to make sure they're 'worthy' or he doesn't. So what would intrigue Damian enough to play along?

Peter jumps over Bruce again. Only, this time, there's not a sticky note with a clever quip or drawing on it. Bruce reaches up to his shoulder and spins around at the loss of weight. Dick jumps to his feet, a shocked laugh escaping him.

"Yes! Good job, Spider-Man!"

"Hey, hey look!" Peter runs with Batman's cape in his hand. The dark fabric swaths over him like a huge flag.

He runs up the wall to bring himself up to the ledge Dick and Damian are on, coming to a stop next to Robin with the Batman cape around his shoulders. It's just in time for the moon to peek out from behind Gotham's clouds, a rare occurrence, and the cape casts a huge shadow down below on the skylight.

He lowers his voice down to his best Batman impression. "…I'm Batman."

Dick howls with laughter. Bruce looks up at them- it's insane to see Batman without his cape, and it makes the fact that Peter stole it that much more hilarious. Bruce is shaking his head, but he has an amused grin. Peter puffs up to stand taller when Dick claps him on the shoulder. He can't see underneath Peter's mask, but he has no doubt the kid is grinning ear to ear, proud of himself.

And he should be! Dick hasn't seen anyone steal Batman's cape from him before- at least, not on purpose. Not only is it impossible to get that close to Batman for that long to get it, it's also a feat itself to know that the cape detaches in case of an emergency. Whether that means it can get caught on something, or grabbed (by anyone strong enough to lift that kevlar and hold onto it), or sucked up by something, the cape can come off, Bruce is too paranoid for it to not do so. But not a lot of people know that-

Ah, that must be Damian's doing. Damian leans forward to look at Bruce better, voice full of disbelief. "Father, I have to admit, I didn't think he could do it."

"You totally thought I could! Why wouldn't I?" Peter boasts, bouncing on his toes with excitement. "You two should have seen him when we were talking about it. He was saying, 'Spider-Man, you're so talented and so cool-'"

"Stop making up lies, brat!" Damian kicks at Peter's knee.

"It's true! Not clickbait!"

"You need to be knocked down a peg."

"Wow, Robin," Peter shakes his head. "How could you talk to Batman like that? Have you learned nothing, son?"

"You're going to give me an aneurysm." Damian complains.

"You can't have an aneurysm until you give me the money you now owe me." Peter hums.

"That was seriously impressive, Spider-Man." Dick beams down at him. Peter stands taller at the compliment. "I mean, I know someone stole the tires off the Batmobile, but I didn't think his cape would be next."

"Good job, Spider-Man." Bruce crosses his arms, sounding genuinely impressed.

Peter mimics his pose, says something back to Bruce that Dick can't hear. He's too busy seeing the easy banter between them all, noticing how Peter is so comfortable, suddenly. Because Bruce had been right.

He hates when Bruce is right. It's a bittersweet moment, watching Peter hop down from the ledge to return Bruce's cape to him. Bruce takes it back and clips it on, and Peter doesn't flinch when Bruce reaches to pat his head. It's like Peter belongs, like he's always been around. It's exactly what Dick wanted, in a way.

This is the exact moment Dick knows. He's going to have to fight Bruce for custody.

Okay, probably a dramatic way to put that. What he means? Like hell is he going to let Bruce adopt Peter, not under his watch.

See, with Damian, there's not much that Dick can do there. As close as he and Dami had gotten in the time that Bruce was missing- no, presumed dead-, Dami is still his little brother. He's Bruce's son, and they actually are managing to build that relationship now. It's hard to say if any of them will ever feel the normal dynamic between a father and two sons, or if Damian might always feel like Dick is his father, and Bruce is someone who should be.

That's okay. Dick doesn't need that relationship to be defined for it to be alright. All he can hope the best for is that they feel loved. They take that one day at a time, with Dick just being there for Dami any way that he can be.

But Peter?

He's up for grabs, in lack of a better term. Fuck Tony, that bastard (Didn't Tim say he wanted to tell Dick something about that?) has no rights to Peter anymore. And Dick will be damned if Bruce even gets to look in Peter's direction before he can snatch him up. Bruce has plenty of kids, and Peter- Well, Dick doesn't know for sure, yet. Peter might not even want him to be his dad, or something like it. But they can try, right? He wonders if this is what Bruce was feeling like, maybe, when he took Dick home, all those years ago? Like the world should belong to this kid? That no one should ever be able to hurt him again?

He already knows by now that the reason he can't ever get any sleep is because he's worried about Peter. It drives him crazy, wondering if he's going to wake up to bad news, because Peter's not just down the hall like Damian is.

He'll have to get a new apartment, for sure. This time, he'll make sure it has 3 bedrooms- one for him, one for Dami, and one for Peter. Maybe for Bludhaven, or maybe for Gotham. He honestly never considered moving back, even if he does stay in the Manor when he's in Gotham. But Damian goes to school at Gotham Academy, and Peter could go too, so neither are alone. They already get along so well, this is the easiest that Damian has ever made a friend, so Dick shouldn't split them up.

Dick could even sacrifice the car he purchased all on his own and has had since he was 18, and finally make a payment on a more reliable car. He'll have to get new furniture too, because he's basically had the same decorations (with a few new couches in some of those years) since he first moved to Bludhaven, and with a new apartment comes a new style.

Or, maybe not even an apartment, but a house? Something in Dick's soul used to feel unsettled by the thought of setting down roots in one spot. He'd gone from traveling the world to being set down in Gotham, in the Manor, of all places. He never really enjoyed the feeling, and moving to an apartment had abated both the urge to flee, to fly, but not straying too far from Bruce… in some kind of hope that Bruce would call and ask him to come back, and Dick could be right there.

But a house, now, doesn't sound like a trap. It sounds like a place for Damian and Peter to play with Haley, his dog, while Dick learns from Jay how to cook something that isn't an abomination. Sounds like a fridge with a bunch of school assignments, report cards, and drawings all over it with stupid magnets.

Dick could be that. He could be a guy with a house, with his kids and his dog and his magnets. He could be there for Peter.

"Did Edna Mode teach you nothing?" Peter is scolding Bruce when Dick snaps himself back into reality.

"Who is that?"

"Who-" Peter gawks at him. "Who is Edna Mode?"

"Is that a niche celebrity?"

"It's-" Peter cuts himself off from his rant before it can even get started. His head sharply turns to the horizon line, going completely still. After a few seconds of silence, he tilts his head as though listening for something far away.

"Something wrong?" Damian chimes up.

Peter doesn't reply. He stares out at the space of the city, taking a few steps forward towards the edge of the skylight.

"Helloooo? Earth to Spider-Boy." Damian tries again.

"…Something just happened." Peter says, all humor washed away.

Damian drops down to the skylight, trying to see what Peter sees on the horizon. "You smell smoke?"

BOOM!

-

A billow of smoke plumes up from a street a few neighborhoods down. Not a one of them have to say anything to each other, they just leap off the side of the building and towards the commotion. Spider-Man swings faster, not having to worry about a grappling hook in order to get by.

!!!!! close !!!!!

Spider-Man grits his teeth as they get nearer to the explosion. He can smell the acrid smoke from here, can practically taste it. Horrifyingly, Spider-Man doesn't hear any screams, not until a full minute after the bomb goes off. That's when he hears them: a chorus of people crying out. They're unintelligible at first, but when Spider-Man finally arrives on scene, he can make out distinct voices.

Someone calls out Baba! in the rubble of what used to be a tall apartment building. Set up in Old Gotham, the buildings around it reach at least twenty stories, maybe thirty for some of them. There's a hotel at the end of the street, and the road is crowded with cars. The building had fallen over into the street, and there are cars buried underneath the rubble as well. Everyone who was in the cars that weren't collapsed on are running out of their cars, carrying children or their parents.

help! right there! get!

Spider-Man swings down to the rubble in the street. (There's a dropped Winnie the Pooh doll. Who did that belong to?) He starts by trying to get through the concrete and stone, but there's enough there that he can't just walk through it. He has to push the stone away, his ears perked for any noise that he or the rubble isn't making.

The first huge stone lifts off of one car. The passenger side is caved in, the metal crunched nearly flat on the seat. Spider-Man hears the choked cough of someone inside, and he pushes more rubble to see clearer to the driver's side. An old man is trying to get his seat belt undone.

"Hold on, sir, I've got you!" Spider-Man pulls the jammed door open.

The old man is blinking dust and smoke out of his eyes, tears streaming down his face. Spider-Man touches his neck, feeling for a pulse. Steady, and Spider-Man doesn't smell blood here. He grabs Spider-Man's wrist, his voice barely there. "What happened?"

"There's was an explosion. But I'm gonna get you out, okay?" Spider-Man reaches over and yanks the seat belt out of the buckle. He gently pulls the old man out of the car. "Put your shirt over your mouth- Yeah, like that."

The old man gets the gist- no one should be breathing this in.

This isn't anything like Two-Face. At least then, Peter had a decent shot of getting the detonator away from him. The bombs were active, but it was a confined enough space with enough heroes and the right amount of people there that things were more controlled, despite the situation looking nothing like it.

But right now? Right now, Spider-Man can't see the bombs, but he can tell there are more, and that they are close. And they're big, they make every hair of his stand on end. There are far more people around, and a lot more injured.

Spider-Man needs to get as many people evacuated as he can, first. He can hear the sound of a drone nearby-

there!

Above them, he spots the infamous Firefly speed past on a high powered drone. Batman and Robin tail after him, just as quick. He's holding grenades in his hand- No, Spider-Man is more useful here. Batman and Robin know what they're doing.

"Stay right here, duck down low." Spider-Man tells him. The old man coughs into his shirt, doing as instructed. Spider-Man goes in search of more people in the cars that were trapped.

A woman with braids and a cut on her forehead, a guy with a broken nose that's pulling a girl with an ID on her dress for Wayne Industries out of their car, a boy with-

gone.

"Momma?"

Oh god.

"Hey, buddy." Spider-Man pops open the car door crouches next to him. The little boy can't be more than six years old. He's trying to get out of his booster seat, but the clip is too strong for him. From the backseat, all the kid can see is his mother in the driver's seat, her head at an odd angle.

The boy's eyes don't move from his mom. Not until Spider-Man touches his arm and undoes the car seat. "Hey, kiddo. I'm Spider-Man. What's your name?"

"Demetrius." The boy's voice cracks despite how softly he spoke, and when he looks at Spider-Man, it feels like his heart has been ripped out of his chest.

"Alright, Demetrius. I'm gonna get you out, okay?"

"What about Momma?"

"Momma wants you to get out first, buddy." Spider-Man lifts him up. He turns his body away from the car so Demetrius can't see, but the boy cranes his head to try looking for his mother anyway. "It's gonna be alright. There are some nice people that are gonna help you get out, and they're gonna keep an eye on you."

"But Momma's here."

"I know." Spider-Man rubs his back. He spots a small action figure on the ground of the car, next to a book about Monster Trucks, and a present box that says 'Congratulations, Graduate' on the top. "Hey, Demetrius, you wanna take this with you? Red Hood's my favorite, is he yours, too?"

Demetrius grabs the Red Hood figure like it's a lifeline. "My big brother plays basketball with him sometimes."

"That's so cool!" Spider-Man hurries away from the car while the kid is distracted. When he gets back towards the other people, he hands Demetrius to the girl with the braids. She's alarmed, at first, but her face is steely and she holds Demetrius tight when Spider-Man tells her, "I need to see if there are more people that need help getting out. Can you take this group down the street, as far as you can?"

"Got it, Spider-Man." She nods. Demetrius waves at Spider-Man when the woman starts shouting to the others. Spider-Man has to leave him, now, but he does check one last time on Demetrius' mother on the way towards the actual apartment building. There's nothing he can do for her besides putting a sticky note on the car door, with nothing written on it, so someone will be able to find her later.

It continues like that. For ten minutes, Spider-Man pushes through the destruction, moving concrete off of people, pulling students, families, pets out of the immediate danger. There's still a constant buzzing on his skin, telling him that danger is very close, and won't wait for him to get everyone out.

He tries to work as fast as he can. He sees the blur of Nightwing as he runs past, carrying two people over his shoulder. Spider-Man uses his webs to keep certain rooms from falling down onto another, trying to stabilize the floor as he gets people down and out.

On the third story, Spider-Man hears the whispers of someone in their living room. He braces himself when he smells the blood from down the hall.

He has to kick in the door to get it open. There's the smashed bits of a counter in front of it, now pushed to the side. In the living room, a woman is clutching onto a man. The ceiling had caved in on his head, and he isn't moving from underneath it.

gone.

Peter held Karen's hand for hours. The debris fell from the sky and crushed her.

Peter held Karen's hand for hours. He didn't want her to be alone.

He didn't want to leave her. She said she wouldn't leave him-

"Ma'am?" Spider-Man breathes, kneeling down next to her. She's thrown herself over his body, or what isn't crushed, and she's trying to breathe. She keeps whispering, tear tracks in the dust on her face. "Ma'am, can you look at me?"

"Can you get him out?" She asks him. She's bleeding from a jagged scratch down her cheek. "Can you get my Mateo?"

"I know you don't want to leave him." Spider-Man holds her arm, and a wracked sob escapes her. "I know you don't want to, but you're in danger here."

"Can you get my Mateo? I can't do this without him." She begs, refusing to let go of Mateo's hand. "Can you get him?"

"We can't bring him." Spider-Man's heart aches. The woman does not believe him. She shakes her head, whispering 'No no no' to either herself or to him. "What's your name?"

"I have to bring my Mateo." She's starting to hyperventilate. Spider-Man grabs her hand, pulling her off of Mateo. "I can't leave him. Can you get him?"

"We have to go. I'm so sorry." And he is. But there's no time to comfort her- he has to get her out of here. "I'm so sorry."

The woman can't speak. Spider-Man picks her up when he notices her bad leg, and she's sobbing so hard she can't struggle against him. He doesn't know how many times he says 'I'm sorry' to her in the few seconds it takes to swing down and leave her in the hands of a first responder.

close! bad! !!!!! get out!

Spider-Man stills when he gets to the fifth floor. There's another bomb nearby, like he suspected. He follows along the hallway in a hurry- does he get the bomb, or does he get the people out? How many are left? Is he able to carry that many people?

close!! friend!

He looks behind him as he makes his way closer to the danger. Red Robin has entered the floor, wearing a rebreather over his mouth. Wait, should Peter have one of those? His mask isn't the best at ventilation. But it should be fine…

The moment he recognizes Spider-Man there, Red Robin sighs with relief. "Spider-Man, there you are. We tried contacting you on comms."

Oh, shit. Spider-Man forgot he even had his comm in his ear. He's not used to having multiple people on the other side. He clicks it on- he had set it to their frequency earlier, Damian must have told them that he knew it. He can hear Oracle relaying information, but that's about it. She must have set it that way on purpose- less voices crowding the frequency, but still getting info from everyone.

"What is it?"

"Batman and Robin are handling Firefly. He set off two more bombs down the street, but we had just evacuated the buildings down there."

"There's another bomb in this building." Spider-Man tells him, looking back down the empty, dark hall. "I think a lot of people were able to get out when the first one went off here, it mostly damaged the sixth floor and the third floor. There's been seven causalities so far."

"You can tell all that?" Red Robin asks. Spider-Man nods.

"There's… still some people in this side of the building, I can hear them on the lower floors, they're getting out. We can-"

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"No time." Spider-Man cuts himself off. He follows his senses- not just the spider-sense blaring stronger when he gets nearer to the bomb, but also the smell of it. It's a much more serious affair than the last bombs they were around- he can feel the imminent danger, the groaning of the building as it relents under the weight.

They need to get out. They can't take another bombing, this building is going to collapse. Except they can't just leave the bomb here to go off and cause more destruction, can they? Red Robin doesn't protest going to find the bomb, so he assumes he's making the right choice here.

GET DOWN!!!!

Or not.

"Shit! Double R, Spider-Man-"

Oracle doesn't have enough time to warn them. Spider-Man yanks Red Robin down to the ground with him just as the wall caves in above them. Spider-Man ducks himself over Red Robin as the concrete comes down, striking him on the head. The world goes black.

-

There's an annoying ringing in his ear when he comes to.

Tim has a hand pressed to his throat, checking for a pulse. He's all blurry, but everything is so bright- Shit. Peter feels cool air brush against his cheek and he has to close his eyes.

His mask is torn, or at least the eye of his mask is. Peter groans and slaps Tim's hand away, pushing away from him to try and sit up.

Baaaaad idea.

Peter's head swims and he resists the urge to vomit right then and there. There's a metallic smell that keys him in to why there's a warm dripping of not-water down his face. Red Robin grabs his shoulders to make him sit still, and Peter blinks through the double vision and the groggy underwater feeling.

"Don't move so fast." He can hear Red Robin over the ringing. Which is a good sign.

"That's what your mom said."

"What?"

"Huh?"

Peter leans over himself, blinking out the stupid light in his eyes.

close!! bad

!!!

get away move!!

friend danger get out move!!

!! hello !!

His spider-sense is so noisy. If Peter didn't have what he is 78% sure is a minor concussion, he'd be able to tell why. But when he tries to think about anything outside of his immediate area, he also starts thinking about barfing his guts up in front of Tim, and that's a no-go.

"Yeah, he's alive." Red Robin says to someone. Peter touches his ear- where'd his comm go? He had it a second ago. That makes him sad… Tony gave that to him. "Well he just made a your mom joke so it can't be too bad."

"'m prfectly fine." Peter glares at Red Robin, but the older boy does not care in the slightest. Red Robin opens his utility belt to grab a flashlight, and Peter spots his comm. "You bitch. Give that back."

"Excuse you?"

Peter snatches the comm out of Red Robin's utility belt. "How'd you even get this?"

"It fell out when you hit your head. Your mask got a little shredded." Red Robin says a little, but Peter is sure it's gotta be half of his face. Red Robin reaches up to Peter's face, forcing open his eye, and shines the light into it. Instantly, Peter is blinded so badly he thinks he'll never see again. His eye waters, and without thinking, Peter grabs the flashlight and throws it.

Red Robin looks at his empty hand while Peter blinks through the pain. "I need to check your pupils, you pissy toddler. Or do you think you're magically fine after experiencing head trauma?"

"I said 'm fine." Peter slurs, pressing his fingers over his eyes. "I got a thick skull."

"That's for sure." Tim snarks.

bad bad bad!! get out!!

Peter squints. There's light coming from his right- oh, would you look at that. A giant hole was ripped through the building. Peter can see the streets below, and some nasty awful bitch in a helicopter is trying to shine a spotlight into the building. Tim reaches under Peter's arms and drags him down the hall, pulling him over the rubble, and away from sight of the public outside.

To his left, Peter's spider-sense is trying to fill in gaps that he can't see, both because his vision is all blurry and because opening his eyes stings like a bitch. Batman and Robin are defintely nearby, and based on the constant danger, that means Firefly is too. There's no sound of a drone…

"Firefly."

"Yep."

"Crashed?"

"Crashed into the building. Drone's broken. B and Robin are working on it."

Tim has pulled out a mask from his utility belt and some kind of glue, when Peter opens his eyes. Peter is affronted when Tim doesn't even ask, he just starts using his thumb to rub the glue over Peter's eye area, his other hand pulling the destroyed Spider-Man mask down.

"Rude."

"Payback." Tim replies easily.

"Kay, Mary Poppins," Peter's clever nickname gets no reaction out of Tim, which is insane because Peter's head feels like it got cracked open and he's still funny enough to make that joke, so he deserved at least a laugh. "We got bomb."

"Noting that your speech is choppy. Hey, kiddo, what's your other symptoms?" Tim presses the mask over Peter's eyes. He holds it down on Peter's skin to make sure the glue sticks- it's a bad sensation. Peter hates it, hates hates hates it. God, that's awful.

"You wear this on purpose?"

"Yeah?"

"Bad texture. 0/10 would not recommend."

"Is it better on your eyes, though?" Tim asks, pulling his hand away when the mask can stick on it's own.

Hm… Peter sees what he means. Identity: saved. Lights: dimmer. "I'll give you this one."

"Great." Tim claps his hands. "We need to-"

!!!!!

Peter's arm reaches out and pulls Tim back as the wall on their left gives in. This time, it's not as bad, and no concrete comes falling down on Peter's head. Just a Batman falling through the wall and landing on the floor in front of them, where Tim had been a second ago, with his chest burned in a ring and smoking. Firefly cackles loudly, and Batman is back on his feet without a word, leaving them again.

"How'd you do that?" Tim asks.

"Do what?"

"React that fast?"

Peter hums. "I'll tell you… when talking's not bad."

"Oh, right. Yeah, come on, kiddo." Tim tries to pull Peter onto his feet. Peter shakes his head as if that would ever help relieve the pain behind his eyes. "We need to get out of here."

"No, we gotta get that bomb."

Peter's refusal comes with Peter walking the opposite direction of where they would go to get out. He makes his way towards where the bomb is instead, following the buzzing of his spider-sense that tells him danger is close by and he's being stupid.

"How bad is your head right now?" Tim asks, but luckily, he's not pressing to make Peter leave. He follows Peter, who's slowly gaining some stability.

"I've had worse." Peter replies honestly.

"Not reassuring." Tim comments. Peter doesn't grace that with a reply.

He has had worse. He's pushed through a lot to get shit done. He kept going when he got gunshots, when he broke his leg, when he almost lost his hand-

When he was bleeding out after he got bit by the-

"Ugh." Peter leans one hand on the wall and takes a deep breath. That's a bad thought!

"Nightwing is on the way." Red Robin says suddenly, snapping Peter out of his almost-barf. Peter looks up at him. Red Robin is frowning, one hand hovering over his shoulder like he didn't know if he could touch him or not. "Stay right here and wait for him, okay? You did great."

"Boo you." Peter stands up straighter. Like hell is he gonna lay down and take a nap when everyone is still in danger. He lifts his arm to an apartment door, and attempts to open it like a normal person. But what Peter did not know was that a concussion led to him not really feeling his body all that normally, and his strength his hard to hold back. The door slams! open, hitting the wall and bouncing back to the frame. It groans in protest, swinging back open, then peels itself off of the hinges and crashes to the floor with a thud.

Peter and Tim stare down at the door. Peter looks up at him.

"Oops."

"Oops? That's all you have to say about that?"

Peter raises his voice to mock Tim's. "That's all you havetasay bout that?" He then jams his thumb inside and steps onto the broken door to get inside the apartment. "Bombs in here."

"Just great." Tim mutters as Peter starts searching the empty apartment. "Another family member that loves to be a pain in the ass."

Peter ignores Tim, trying to make sense of his spider-sense. That's… an odd phrasing. Sense of his spider-sense.

Right, focus. There's a bomb.

close bad get out get out get out heavy

What does heavy mean? It doesn't sound good, whatever it is. Peter leans on the counter as Tim makes his way into the apartment. It's no use trying to pinpoint it exactly, there's just- a lot going on. Peter feels like his spider-sense is all over the place. It alerts him to the bomb nearby, by it's also trying to tell him that the building is unstable, and it's warning him about Batman and Robin and Firefly as their fight progresses through the building.

Peter crouches down, pulling at the neck of his suit. It's either hot in here, or Peter is the one that feels like he's burning up. His hair is sticky- Oh. When Peter pulls back his hand, it's not sweat, but a lot of blood that coats his gloved hand. It drips down onto his web shooter like it's dripping down his forehead and his cheek.

"Talk to me, Spider-Man." Tim prompts. "I heard you stole Batman's cape earlier."

"I'm legally Batman now."

"That's not how it works."

Red Robin makes his way around the apartment, pulling out shelves and cabinets, and when that doesn't work, he starts banging on the walls. The apartment is empty, not even furniture inside. It's much more spacious than a New York apartment, though. Peter wonders what rent is like in Gotham.

"How did he do it?" Peter asks, watching Red Robin beat on the living room's wall. After the third hit, it sounds fuller underneath his fist. Red Robin tries again, and sure enough, it's there.

Red Robin pulls out a knife from his belt and jams it into the wall. "How did he what?"

"Get past my spider-sense."

That's the part that Peter still doesn't get. With Loki, he at least will get a warning before he gets close to Peter. He's never had anyone get close enough to grab him. His therapist, Lucy, she said Peter's always had to be aware, even before his spider-sense. That the reason why it's probably so fine tuned is because Peter has C-PTSD, and always had to know. He had to know where the exits are, had to read the room before he said the wrong thing. Peter doesn't know how close that could be to the truth, because it's not like they have a measure for him to look at. There are no other Spider-People out there to tell Peter if he's a normal spider-mutant or if he's fucked up in the head.

Tim pulls apart the wall, revealing the bomb underneath. Firefly must have planted the bombs a while ago, and was waiting to set them off for a good moment.

"Your spider-sense works on vibrations, doesn't it?"

"Yeah."

"He probably used some deep diving techniques. Slowed his heart rate down-"

"Bullshit." Peter breathes out. "That can not be a real thing."

Tim sticks his tongue out as he works on dismantling the bomb, a bead of sweat tracing down his brow. Peter feels his head swim again and his eyes flutter closed. Deep breath in, deep breath out. "Want a different answer?"

"Yeah, I do."

"He's Batman."

Peter scoffs at that. Whatever the hell that means, he supposes. He'll just have to pry the real answer out of the Bat when this is over.

!!! GET OUT!!!

His eyes shoot open and he gets onto his feet. Just as Tim snips the last wire of the bomb, Peter hurries up to grab his arm. Tim, alarmed, barely manages to ask what is wrong before Peter says, "We need to get out."

OUT HEAVY GET OUT!!!

The building creaks. There's a thud from overhead that shakes the building. Peter drags Tim out of the apartment as another thud hits. Dust falls from the cracks in the ceiling as they hurry back down the hallway. The buzzing doesn't stop- that constant air that everything is about to wrong wrong wrong.

!!!! UNDERNEATH !!!!

Peter thwips a web to the ceiling above them as another hit wracks the building. This time, it's accompanied by the screeching of metal and the floor giving way from underneath them. He falls down first as the floor lets go, but the web he sent out catches him. His arm yanks, vision swimming in front of him. The rubble is a mix of image and afterimage.

He reaches BEHIND!! him just in time to snatch Tim out of the air. Tim holds on to his arm with a grip for life, and when Peter looks down he sees nothing but a giant hole underneath them. The building whines under the pressure while Peter lifts Tim up, trying to get back up on the floor because the lower ones are more unstable.

Tim reaches out his grappling hook to help, but-

!!!! GOES!!!

The part of the ceiling that the webbing had latched onto finally gives way. The cement falls down as they do. Peter tries to stick his arm out to find another holding for his web, ignoring the pain blaring in his head. The webbing catches Tim's leg and Peter yanks him up. Tim twists just in time to avoid steel rebar sticking out from the rubble.

They both crash onto the ground. Peter hisses when his forehead smacks against pavement.

Whoa, okay. Maybe the concussion is worse than he thought it was.

He loses a few seconds- or a few minutes? He can't tell. When he finally manages to open his eyes again, he pushes himself up on his arms.

"Coupon?" Peter's voice feels scratchy. He coughs out the dust and smoke that is coating his lungs.

It's dark down here. He looks up above them, trying to count how many levels they fell down. Looks like… two? No. Four… No, six? Shit, wait, he's seeing more than double now. Peter groans, dragging himself onto his knees, and calls out again, "Coupon? You 'kay?"

"Yeah," Tim does not sound okay. "Come- Come help me lift this."

Peter gets onto his feet, but is crouched over with his hands out in front of him. His balance is thrown off, and his feet feel like they aren't beneath him anymore. When Peter finally catches sight of Tim, he sucks in a breath. Tim's leg is caught underneath a heavy piece of rubble.

"Shit," Peter hisses.

"It's fine, I'm okay." Tim assures, way more calm about this than he should be. "It's only been a couple seconds. Help me push this off?"

HEAVY!! GET OUT!!!

Peter's hands lift over his head and he twists on his feet. He almost collapses like the floor above them, but he holds steadfast as it reigns down. He sees Tim cover his head before he closes his eyes. The rubble slams onto Peter's shoulders, everything screaming at him. His head, his spider-sense, and then his muscles.

Peter cant speak. He can barely breathe.

He's never held up this much weight before- he's never even tested how far his strength can go. He can catches busses, he can break down doors. But as the tons of weight threaten to crush him and Tim, Peter's body is begging him to let it go, to drop that weight before it rips him apart.

"Fuck- Okay, okay, kid, just- just hold on." Tim is saying, and Peter can't even gripe back 'what the fuck else would I do?'

He breathes in through his nose, out through his mouth. A cough racks his body and the rubble shifts, but he refuses to let it fall any further. When Peter cracks opens his eyes, he can't tell if his vision is giving out, or if they're really in the pitch dark.

"-obin, come in."

"Oracle!" Tim shouts, and Peter hisses at the noise. God, he hates noise! "Sorry, Spdier-Man. O, we need an evac ASAP."

"Nightwing and B are on their way. Firefly was knocked out and is being transported. What's going on?"

"We're trapped." Tim says. As Peter's eyes refuse to adjust, Peter strains his ears to hear. There's shuffling from where Tim lay underneath that cement, and the scratching of it as Tim attempts to pry it off. "We were getting out when the building collapsed. My leg is pinned underneath some cement, Spider-Man is holding up- Damn, I think he's got to be holding up the building."

"Spider-Man, can you hear me?"

"Ugh." Is all Peter manages to bite out.

"Adding N and B to the comm." Oracle says. There's a click in Peter's ear and Nightwing's voice filters through.

"Are you two okay?"

"Not for long," Tim says, oh-so-optimistically of him. "I've almost got this cement off my leg. I think I see an out- I think- Southwest from the front of the building? Maybe? We fell a couple stories, and it's unrecognizable down here…"

"We see it-" There's double of Nightwing's voice now, and Peter can hear the shuffling of rock coming from his right. "You see me?"

A light shines through their space. Peter grunts and Tim says something like 'yes', but everything is starting to white out. He can't let this fall, not while Tim is here. Peter could maybe survive if it crushed him, but Tim is human, there's no way. Even if Peter's never lifted this much weight before, and it feels like everything is about to slip away-

"Spider-Man, hey, look at me."

Peter opens his eyes again, the weight of the cement starting to shift towards the left as he leans. His legs tremble, starting to slip as well, and he panics when he sees Nightwing right next to him.

"Hey hey hey, it's okay!" Nightwing holds his hands up. "B got Red Robin, see?"

When did-?

Tim's really not there. There's a line of blood across the ground where he was, dragged out through a hole that they made. Did Peter blank out that long?

"Listen to me," Nightwing is all too calm about the fact that he's gonna get crushed if he doesn't get out. "I'm right here with you. The building's really unstable, so I'm gonna help you set this down, okay?"

"You- superpowers now?" Peter grits out, and Nightwing gives him a thin smile.

"No, just super brilliant. Alright, I want you to crouch down, slowly. That's it-" Peter would really like to set this shit down now- "-there you go, alright. Start leaning to the left… take your time, I know it's a lot, but you've got this…"

Peter hears and feels the moment that the rubble is laid down to the side. And unlike what he was just doing- being calm, straightforward, and making sense- Nightwing reaches out and snatches Peter out from under the rubble. His vision swims and he stumbles out of the way with Nightwing when the building starts to fall over, careening towards the left. Nightwing ducks Peter's head under his arm and shield him as the rubble crumbles, the ground shaking.

Tense silence, where all Peter can really hear is his own heart pounding in his chest. When the rubble stills, Nightwing drags Peter towards the opening that they had made, helping him climb out over the broken stone and metal.

Nightwing's mouth is moving, but Peter can't hear a word he's saying. They're on the other street opposite to where Peter entered the building in the first place. It's nothing but empty space and destroyed buildings. Nightwing cups Peter's face in both of his hands, thumb brushing over Peter's temple and frowning.

Peter blinks and he's sitting down on the ground. His muscles feel way too light.

Actually, he feels way too light. His entire body.

That's new.

Peter blinks again and Nightwing is helping him up again.

Peter blinks, and he's looking at the Batmobile in the street. It's covered in sticky notes, and Batman is staring at it, with Tim slung over his shoulder.

"Forgot I did that." Peter says, though it's like someone else is saying it. "I'm really tired."

He falls forward, and Nightwing catches him just in time. Peter's out like a light.