lepoffaith

by Lazydaily

marvel peter gotham long ass chapters

10. Chapter 10

NOV 2

Let it be known that for as emotionally unstable as their family is, they are at least aware of it. "Working" on it might be a very loose idea, but they've been coming around for the better part of 2 years now. At least they are actually confronting their personal problems, looking within, going to therapy and shit like that. They could be shouting it away and pretending they hate each other like they used to do. Jason thinks it counts for something that they're trying.

At the moment, though, the house is wrapped in a tension that hasn't been prevalent in a long while. Sure, Dick hadn't told them that he told Peter, but they're smart enough to figure it out. No one is yelling, no one is trying to get away with murder, no one is losing their mind. But Dick is moping in the training room with that sad puppy dog face he gets when he's feeling awful and guilty about something, and Peter…

Well, Jason expected something like Dick. The kid gets angry the same way, why not have panic attacks the same way? He thought that Peter had checked out, just like Dick does, but when the next morning, when he had approached what was a silent kid with a far off look in his eyes, Peter had snapped to reality and smiled at him.

Like nothing had happened, like nothing important was weighing on his mind. He made a joke about their big house, had asked Jason a billion questions about the BatCave and the dinosaurs… and the Batmobile. And the numerous suits that are on display (Jason is still thankful that Bruce doesn't keep his old suit in the cave anymore). Really, he talked about everything but the bombshell that no doubt had been given to him last night. It's not everyday that someone finds out that for the last month they've been talking to a version of their dead father that is very much alive and has a completely different family and was trying to adopt them without even him knowing they were related.

(Yeah, Jason thinks this revelation- no thanks to Tim's loving help- is both a blessing and a curse.

On one hand, it means there are no more clones, no secret enemies (at least, from their world), no questionable parentage of some teenagers who really are strangers to each other. That much means a lot, considering it could have been way too much to handle.

But on the other hand, it means that Dick and the rest of them can't keep the kid.

The thought feels inescapable to Jason, and no doubt the rest, too. It looms overhead like a big reminder they can't have anything nice for very long. Forget that Dick was about to buy a damn house and adopt him so they could have some happy family together. The rest of them want Peter too.

Bruce, the damn fool, is already trying to spoil the kid to death. Jason saw it last night in the Cave- Peter, obviously being himself and running around to look at the displays while Bruce stood there all fond for the fact that he has a grandkid. (A grandpa at 42 years old.) He saw it in the subtle comment before they left the house this morning that Peter could use the workshop downstairs whenever he wanted to, and of course Bruce could show Peter where they keep the material for their suits so he can make a new mask. Would he like any help with it? Let him know if there's anything he can do, chum.

He's not the only one. But he's the biggest, most obvious culprit, which is insane, because Bruce is Batman.

Duke is excited to have another super-powered Bat on the team, if all of his ramblings about the possibilities of Peter's spider-whatevers has anything to say (Jason's been told the hyphen is apparently important to add to Peter's "spider-whatevers"). Steph adores Peter like he's her newest little cousin to pester, and Jason… thinks they should keep an eye on that. Steph is the most trouble-loving of them and Peter is a menace the same way.

Babs had also grown attached to him, and that was the second he arrived. Peter had let them know that the day he showed up at the library was the day he got to Gotham in the first place. She's been getting live updates from everyone in that stupid group chat, and what she had to say this morning was that she's "of the firm belief that Peter will come around."

Damian and Tim are already welcoming Peter like he's their brother- the fights that are just banter with a couple rounds of elbows to the face, dumb nicknames, and an overall sense of being annoying? It's like Damian has a long lost twin or something. Though technically Peter isn't a brother, but a nephew, they're all close enough in age that it wouldn't feel that way.

Jason, though? He's a 23 year old college student, not anywhere close to their youth, and he was excited to have a nephew.

Honestly, he still is. Just because Peter is going to leave doesn't mean that he's stopped considering Peter to be family. He knows Cass feels the same way, because she keeps referring to Peter as "my little nephew."

She probably knew before any of them, with that language of hers. She probably saw Spider-Man and made the connection between him and Dick immediately. If she had, she's keeping it to herself. Her only comment about it is a sweet smile that tells Jason nothing.

Even if they have to say goodbye to Peter, they at least have him right now.

But also, saying goodbye is not something their family is good at.)

Everyone had told Dick that he has to tell Peter as soon as possible, when they were alone, so Peter could properly freak out with no one there to witness it and make it more overwhelming. That's because everyone expected this revelation to come with a lot more… freaking out. But Jason doesn't know what Peter is feeling about it.

The kid isn't open to questions at the moment, or so, Jason gets the vibe. All morning, he'd been acting as if everything is fine. He keeps on with his Just Peter, Mister Alfred, and Alfred keeps on with Just Alfred, Master Peter. He ate breakfast with Damian and Bruce (because on Saturdays, Tim doesn't emerge from his room until 2PM, and Jason was sort of out of it until he had eaten something, but he'd been informed that Peter was acting normal) and doesn't show a hint that anything is wrong.

The only sign that Peter is stressed out is Ace. The dog has been trained for that- trained for everything, pretty much. He runs to get Dick or Bruce if Jason is having a flashback, he sits on Tim or Dami's laps when they start picking at their fingernails or overwork themselves while training. Ace alerts when someone is experiencing high levels of stress. (He's also a tracking dog named the Bat-Hound when Batman needs him at night. He's just as much of an overachiever as the rest of the family.)

He alerts for Peter, which leaves a sour taste in Jason's mouth. Because if it weren't for Ace, Peter would have gotten away far longer with his little charade. Ace only stops when Bruce sits next to Peter and pats the dog's head, and they talked… about robots or something. Jason was still halfway through breakfast, so he doesn't remember that part.

That doesn't mean Peter stopped being stressed. It just means that Ace knows something is being done about it.

Actually, no, Jason lied. There is another sign that something is wrong. When Dick came up for breakfast, Peter was out of there so fast that Jason blinked and he was in the kitchen washing his plate and then blinked again and he was gone entirely. The disappearing act was almost as impressive as Zatanna's magic. Dick hadn't thought the same. He sat at the table picking at his blueberry waffles in such a pitiful state that Bruce and Damian had tried to cheer him up by giving him some smuggled in canned whipped cream.

(Alfred hadn't let it slide. There's many foods that he'll turn a blind eye to in cases like these, but an abomination of canned whipped cream when he could make it himself? Bruce had the decency to look like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.)

Jason figures that it's best to let this lie, for now. It's not his place yet to butt in. Peter's not hurting himself, really, and he only just got the news, so he gets at least a week of avoiding it before Jason steps in. But he can be there for the kid, avoiding it or not. So instead of Dick going with Peter to Benny's to get his stuff, Jason goes.

Looks like Peter is still willing to stay with them as planned. He hasn't indicated otherwise, like he wants to go back to Benny's after all and really avoid Dick, and by extension, the rest of the Bats. So… that could be worse.

Benny did turn out to be a good guy, like Dick had mentioned. He'd been worried when Peter hadn't returned last night, and was relieved to find out that Peter is going to stay with the Waynes. He had looked surprised for about five seconds, until he muttered, "Was only a matter of time." Like Bruce really is an ancient being that goes around collecting the lost souls of orphans.

Something that Jason had been quick to rectify was Peter's small level of embarrassment about the room he'd been staying in. It's small, but Jason had lived in and had seen worse, and he didn't like how Peter was waiting for Jason to make a comment about it. The kid only relaxed when Jason started asking about what to grab and what not to.

It'd be another time, when Benny wasn't hanging out in the doorway, for Jason to let Peter know that he gets it.

"Well, this was supposed to be temporary, but I didn't think you'd move up in the world this fast. Got any tips for me, or do you think I'm too old for that Brucie Wayne to take me in too, Pete?"

Peter smiles as he slings his backpack over his shoulder. Jason is grabbing whatever random stuff he can find and shoving it into a suitcase they brought along. He hadn't expected Peter to have so much stuff, but it sort of makes sense. He not only got that POB of stuff from them (Jason is a fan of the jacket, and Peter had looked like a plant in the sun when Jason told him that), but he's also been here for a month, trying to build whatever the hell contraption that Jason pulled out from under the bed.

Peter had compacted it down when Benny wasn't looking. So Jason takes it that he's more than a little good at this kind of thing, which means he really does fit in to this family.

"I dunno, Benny, you kind of look like one of those dogs that look like old men. That makes you charming. Maybe if I ask nicely, Bruce will let you come along. Just give him a big smile."

"Doubtful that would work as well for me as it works for you, Dimples." Benny grunts, sharing a look with Jason that says he's fallen victim to the little manipulator before too. He watches Peter as the kid collects his toolbox, nervously shifting every few seconds. "Don't be a stranger, just 'cause you're rich now."

"Like I could ever forget to come bother you." Peter smirks, zipping up his backpack. "And who else in this awful city would I trust for a burger?"

"You're paying, now that you have the money to spare."

"Benny… how you wound me so…" Peter clutches the fabric over his heart as if he's been shot.

"Marie wanted you to take a couple sweaters that she knitted." Benny ignores his dramatics. "And Pogo mentioned that his fridge is working fine now, so he's hosting his house warming party next week. You should try to stop by."

These are names Jason hasn't heard about from the kid. But Dick isn't the only one that went over the records of everyone in this neighborhood when they found out Peter was living here. Marie LeFontaine is an 78 year old woman that lives in the house down the street from here, she has four grandkids that stop by every now and then, all clean. Pogo isn't a name he's heard, so it must be a nickname. Mentioned a house warming party, so who's new to the neighborhood again…? Ah, John Craffin, maybe.

"Miss Marie didn't have to do that, I told her I had some new jackets…" Peter frowns as if the time spent on him wasn't worth it.

"You built that ramp for her house for free and you expect to not get something in return? It'd be a shame on her record. I'm pretty sure Marie has been the head of this street's knitting group since she was a baby. She made me a scarf when I was passing out free food in the last Mr. Freeze attack that left the neighborhood shut down."

Ramp? Jason hadn't looked that far into her records.

"The city should have got her one like they told her they would." Peter says, looking through his notebooks at his desk.

"Oh, and those kids down the street will wanna know where you're going too. They stopped by a few before you got here to tell you the mural got put up." Benny tells him.

"It did?"

"Yeah, your idea for the petition went really well. They're excited to show you."

"I'll have to check it out before we leave."

"Oh, and-" Jason is starting to think that the 'oh, and's aren't gonna stop. "-Yvette wanted to thank you for fixing her porch light."

"You know I'll be visiting, right?" Peter chuckles, putting the last of his notebooks in the suitcase. "Bet I'll be here next week, even. Jason promised to sneak me to get burgers."

"No I did not."

"You will." Peter sounds assured in that. Jason rolls his eyes, but he can't find it in him to be annoyed about it. Jason also thinks he's losing that battle. He wonders if Alfred might have the most trouble yet with this one.

"I'm just sayin', you're gonna get busy." Benny shrugs like it isn't a big deal, but the old man is definitely worrying like it is. "You're gonna be doing stuff with your new family. Probably rich people bonding activities- I heard Brucie went on a cruise a few weeks ago with his kids just for the hell of it, in the middle of the school year, but whatever, that's still bonding stuff. You're gonna be having so much fun, you might not visit for a while. We get it."

Peter hesitates. Jason can see his gaze turn from normal to washed over in an instant. 'New family' takes up all the space in the room. He still has that grin on his face like everything is fine, but his eyebrows furrow like Dick's do when he's sad.

And doesn't that just eat away at Jason? To not know what to say to that, or what to do to help him with it? Jason's never been good at this kind of thing, no matter what Big Bird tells him. The comforting people part of the job always felt out of reach, and it's even worse when he doesn't have a mask to hide behind.

"I'll take this down to the car, if that's everything." Jason pats his shoulder to get his attention, giving it a little squeeze of reassurance. Peter snaps out of his stupor to blink up at him, and he nods with a vague smile.

"Yeah, thanks, Jason."

Benny steps out of the doorway to let Jason pass by, suitcase zipped up and in hand. He gets about halfway down the stairs before stopping, right after the loudest of the creaky steps to give an illusion that he'd left.

It's morally okay eavesdropping, okay? Don't judge him on this. Jason can't let his nephew stay sad, and he has to make sure that this convo with Benny is actually gonna help, somewhat, if Jason can't say anything. So what if he's lurking on the stairs? Peter's just gonna have to get used to this family's weird version of boundaries.

Okay, he heard that last part, and he knows how it sounded. But trust, this is still morally okay. There's not a single duffel bag involved, so it's fine. And if anything, Jason is the least of his worries. Tim is the biggest weirdo of them all.

"I can't promise that life won't get busy, but I can say that I'm not gonna stop hanging around so I can go do rich people stuff." Peter tells Benny, a half hearted joke in between a sincere tone. "I can't tell you how much having you around helped me out. I don't know where I'd be if you hadn't offered this room."

"Dead, probably." Benny grunts, but it's hardly got a bite to it. "Or telling more people to shoot you."

Excuse Jason?

"Oh, come on, Ben, I only did that once." Peter's voice tightens, and Jason wonders if he caught what he called Benny just now. "And- you know- I knew Lanky wasn't gonna shoot me."

Isn't that one of the two criminals that Dick and Damian spoke about? They were on the train with Two-Face, and according to Dick, have the strangest friendship with the kid. Damian had said that they hadn't wanted to give Peter the time of day and were acting like he's bitten them before, but Dick said when he caught up to the two of them when looking for Peter, they were suddenly ride-or-dies. Should Jason be looking into them?

"Lanky? What, you givin' out nicknames to people who try to rob you, now? Way to make me worry about you even more than I already have to be."

Peter laughs at that, like it might be an inside joke. "He's a friend, now, I didn't think to tell you about that. Met him again recently, he and his friend are doing better. No robbing burger joints or anything! Nickname just kind of stuck… It's just a habit I think I picked up from my- my Dad. I think."

He knows that Peter isn't talking about Dick when he refers to his dad. Not just because Jason's never heard Dick consistently call people nicknames other than family members, but because they are probably nowhere near close enough for 'Dad' to be tacked onto Dick's name just yet. That hurtle is about five after the hurdle of 'acknowledging blood ties.'

So Tony's a nickname guy, huh? Jason wonders what else Itsy Bitsy picked up from this mystery mentor from another universe.

"Thanks, Benny. Really." Peter tells him, voice soft.

"Anytime, Peter. Even if this room finds another person to house while you're away, I'll figure somethin' out if you end up wantin' to come back. Don't be afraid to ask for help if you need it. Though I gotta say, if there's one person you could trust, it's Brucie. He gives a shit about us, y'know? He might be some rich schmuck, but he's a Gotham child just like the rest of us. Kinder, though."

Jason doesn't stick around to hear more. Probably because Peter would maybe tell that Jason was eavesdropping (He keeps forgetting that the little twerp can do that.) and also probably because it's actually getting emotional and Jason can hear Dinah scolding him about pulling this stunt. And he's convinced she has a sixth sense for this kind of thing, so any longer of this and she'll be able to sniff out Jason's guilt the next time he sees her.

He makes his way back downstairs and out the closed restaurant, towards one of Bruce's cars that he parked outside of the burger joint. What? Jason wasn't about to bring his motorcycle if they were picking things up. Besides, the Old Man would have stopped him if he really didn't want Jason to steal it. And the look on Peter's face when he got to see the garage full of expensive, classic cars, was well worth it.

He's putting the suitcase in the trunk when someone clears their throat. He turns around to spot a gaggle of tiny someones standing on the sidewalk, waiting for him to notice them.

A couple of the kids are nervously hiding behind each other or ready to book it at the first sign of trouble- Gothamites are Gothamites from the day they're born- but the leader of their little pack- the shortest, but likely the mightiest of them- is daring to look him in the eye.

Jason can't help but smile at that. He closes and then leans one hand on the trunk, raising a brow at the… what, 12 year old? She has her chin stuck up courageously, black hair cut short to her chin. Her bangs are pulled back by several colorful clips, the most prominent being a a yellow butterfly. What's more interesting are her clothes-they're new because there aren't any holes in them, but they look recently scuffed.

And isn't that odd?

This kid sticks out in their group, and not just because of the strange dynamics at play here.

She gives him a once over, trying to be brave about talking to him, but there is a cautious lean to her step, ready to book it if Jason attacks.

"What's up, Rugrats?"

"You came in with Peter." The little girl says. Instantly, Jason's interest pricks at her accent. It's deliberately thick, like she's trying to make it a point. Could be just because she's talking to an adult, and wants to sound tougher than she is. But the pre-scuffed clothes, the accent…

Something about her reminds Jason of Tim.

"Astute observation, Tommy Pickles."

The girl's brows furrow in confusion, maybe a little annoyance. "My name is Maps."

"Oh, forgive me." Jason raises a brow at her. "How could I have guessed that wrong?"

"Is Peter coming down?" She ignores his clever retorts. The other kids, despite being hesitant, are eagerly awaiting Jason's answer.

Jeez, Peter was here for a month, right? When did he have time to adopt a bunch of kids like some Bruce Wayne in the making?

…Probably around the same time that he apparently started making his way into a familiar face of this neighborhood. He wonders if Peter is even aware that that's what happened. He's got people asking after him, wanting to know if he's okay, knitting him sweaters. Apparently in the times that the Bats did take their eyes off of Peter, he was building ramps for old ladies and their wheelchairs, fixing people's fridges, and helping kids get murals painted on walls. There's probably a boat load of other things that weren't mentioned, that Peter would take no credit for whatsoever.

The kid just seems to be like that. From what Jason had read in Spider-Man's file on the BatComputer (specifically, after he found out it was Peter), Spider-Man wasn't just leaving his mark by saving people from muggings or stopping car accidents or running after rogues. He was helping people fix up a playground in the Upper East Side, he was finding lost dogs and cats, he was talking to teenagers that were having bad nights. He helped one little boy find his way back home when he tried running away. Several people actually told Red Robin that Spider-Man swings by to check on them and ask if they need help.

As much as they try to do the same, Gotham is a cursed place. The problems that rise up and threaten to overtake them each time they get comfortable leaves them barely any room to breathe in their suits. It's a little easier in civvies to make impacts on the community.

Peter is the type of kid to not even see just how big of an impact that leaves, especially in Gotham.

…Jason also considers how Alessandra is like that, too.

From what he saw on the research Tim compiled about her, she's a firefighter in the Tri-Corner. She comes from a large Italian-American family that's lived in Gotham for two generations, but isn't involved in the mafia, which is a statistical wonder in Gotham. She went from Romano to Romano-Esposito after marrying Giovanni Esposito, and she has a daughter named Teresa. There was a stint of her life where she had been injured in one of the last Firefly's attacks and she lost her memories for a while, but she came back stronger than ever. She looks so nice and normal in every aspect of her life that they thought something must be wrong with her, but she doesn't have a lick of a criminal history.

And she looks so much like Peter. Acts like him, too.

Was this what Peter's parents were like in his home universe, too? Did they get enough time to pass that down to him? What about that Ben and May of his? What were they like? Jason would have loved to meet them, to sit down for dinner and see if their light looked anything like his brothers.

(But his brother is dead, in Peter's universe. Dead, left behind a kid. He had a wife and a whole different family. What were they like to him? Had they been kind? Had they been able to help Dick grieve his parents? Had they all cried when Dick had to apparently change his name? Did they mourn the Graysons with him?

Did they hold him? Did this Ben, his brother's different brother, take care of him? What was it like for Dick to be the little brother, not the older one? Did he even know Jason? Did he know Babs, Tim, Steph, Duke, Damian, Alfred? Did he have Bruce? Or were they all separated, strangers to each other not just in name, but in existence? Or, did his family not exist at all, and Dick was the only one of them?

Was he happy? Did that version of his big brother even get the time he deserved? When he left Peter behind, did he get any time to mourn the life he lost?)

"He's coming down, yeah. It might be a second, he's saying bye to Benny." Jason answers Maps, ignoring the inner turmoil. Her eyes light up and another kid pumps his fist with excitement, but then she tilts her head in confusion. "How do you all of you know him?"

"Peter helped my Papa fix the broken steps to the community center." A boy volunteers, apparently no longer nervous. "He's really super cool! And he's Spider-Man's friend!"

"We gotta tell him we made an A on our science project!" One girl chimes in.

"Why do you have a suitcase?" Maps questions, suspicious eyes on the trunk. Observant, isn't she, this strange little girl?

"…Peter's moving in with me." Jason tells her.

Instead of frowning like the other kids, Maps puffs up with all the vigor of a protective dragon in a near instant.

"And who are you? Where's he going? Are you normal? How long have you known him? You're not CPS, are you? Because then we'd have to fight you. Do you have a criminal record? If so, what for? If you don't, what's wrong with you that the cops like you? Is this your car? It doesn't look like it belongs to you. Is car theft on your criminal record? Does Peter know you have a criminal record? Does Peter know you stole this car? Did you make Peter steal this car? How old are you? You look like you're forty five. Are-"

"Are you going to let me answer questions or am I just supposed to sit here?"

Maps snaps her mouth shut, cheeks puffed up as if physically holding her words in.

"I'm Jason. He's going with me and my family. I've known him about a month. I'm not CPS. You would lose a fight, Pipsqueak, so don't get into one. I don't have to tell you my criminal record. This is not my car, it's my Old Man's. I am not forty five, and telling people they look old is rude."

"Who's your family? Who's your Old Man? I still think you're old-"

"Bruce Wayne." Jason grins at the way her eyes bug out of her head. "That's my Old Man."

"You're lying." Maps breathes out, suspicious. Her friend, on the other hand, with zero hesitation:

"Whoa! Peter got Bruced!" He slaps another kid's arm to emphasize his point. The other rubs his shoulder with a pout. "I told you! He's really nice, like that Grayson guy! And that Timothy guy!"

"It was only a matter of time…" Science Project girl sighs, all melancholy.

"What was only a matter of time?" Peter opens the door to Benny's, the bell chiming. He has his backpack over his shoulder and a Benny's to-go bag in his hand that looks laden with food. The kids' heads snap up to him quick as the Flash, and Peter raises a brow as he lets the door close. "I was just gonna come see you guys. What's going on here? You're not pestering Jason, are you?"

"You're leaving forever!?" Maps squeaks at him. Peter's eyes widen in surprise, and he glances at Jason for answers. "This old guy said you're leaving forever!"

"Not once did that come out of my mouth, Cartography." Jason flicks the back of her head. She smacks her hands over the spot and glares at him. Jason can't help but laugh- she's like a particularly pissed off bird, and again he's reminded of Tim.

"I'm not… leaving forever." Peter tells her, smile sort of thin. Jason and he both know that Peter could be, because at any point, this could all be resolved and he'd get back to his home universe. "I'm just going to go live with the Waynes."

"You got adopted by Brucie?" One boy asks.

Peter shakes his head. "No, no. I, uh-" It's at this very second that Jason realizes something. Dick and Peter were supposed to go over a backstory for this exact scenario. But if Peter was told about the parent thing and didn't get the chance…

"His cousin." Jason fills in. It's the only story that makes sense, really. A long lost cousin, rather than Dick being a teenage parent. They could have just said they weren't related- but anyone looking at the two of them side by side would be able to put two and two together. It's easier to say they're related and just have really strong genes on that side of the family.

"Yeah, my cousin. He's taking me in."

"…Bruce Wayne is your cousin?" One girl does not believe him at all. She looks pointedly at Peter's tan skin, and then looks around like she'll find a billboard with Bruce's pasty face on it. "How far related are you?"

"No, Bruce is not my cousin." Peter snorts.

"Dick Grayson?" Maps guesses.

Okay, damn, incredibly observant child. Hadn't even seen them side by side yet and she's got them clocked. Peter reaches over to ruffle her hair, then fixes it for her almost immediately.

"Good guess, Maps." Peter's compliment makes her stand up straighter. "I'll be coming back to visit when I can. Don't worry about that, okay?" Peter tells them, but mostly looks at Maps. She is their little pack leader, after all, and the most worried about him. After a moment of apparent telepathy between the two, Maps pouts but nods slowly in understanding. Peter smiles at her, and it brings out a smile in Maps as well.

"Okay, so show me the mural that got put up?" He's pulling open the to-go bag, and he doesn't even have to look at their hungry faces before he's handing out burgers to them. Maps takes the last burger with a lot of admiration on her face.

The kids hurry up the street, Maps hand-in-hand with one of the younger girls. Peter is surprised when Jason walks with them, the two of them at the far back. But like hell Jason is leaving Peter alone anywhere. He hadn't wanted to before Peter lived in the Manor, and now that they have the excuse to always have at least one person with the kid, Jason is secure that he won't get easily kidnapped on their watch.

Another point for the Bats vs Tony: they wouldn't let that happen.

They walk in silence for a little bit, the noon-traffic slow enough that they could actually talk if they wanted to, which makes the silence feel thicker. The kids are none the wiser, chatting away to each other, waving to some adults they know as they get closer to the community center a couple blocks over from Benny's.

Finally, Jason finds something to talk about that isn't the elephant in the room.

"So how fast did they get attached to you?"

Peter shrugs, kicking a rock on the sidewalk. "I passed by them a few times while I was getting to know Gotham's layout, and we talked a few times, made sure they had somewhere to go. Spider-Man pointed them in my direction after some bullies broke their science project. I didn't think they'd be that sad to see me go."

"'Course they would be," Jason says it without thinking about it. "You're a good kid, Pete. They don't have to know you long to want you to stick around."

It's not until after the words have left his mouth that Jason thinks that it hits close to home. Something twists in his chest, as Peter stops mid-wave at a neighbor to look at him, something vulnerable in his expression that reminds Jason too much of how he felt when Bruce said he cared about him and Jason knew he meant it.

He hasn't known Peter that long, none of them have. But they got attached to him anyway. He just fits right in with them all, like he was always meant to be there, sitting at the table. He even filled out that last room on the second floor that's always empty- besides Jason's old room, that neither he nor Bruce can bear to walk into. A staple of the Wayne family wing, a part of their tree that they don't want to cut off.

Jason doesn't want him to leave. The Wayne family has a hard time saying goodbye. The ones that they do have are always bitter, or filled with heartache, or come far, far too soon. Saying goodbye is something they've all had to do. But to know the people they're saying goodbye to will never come back…

He can see the second Peter decides to file that away. He turns to watch where he's walking, hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched up, feigning a relaxed posture. Jason didn't want that to happen, and it eats away at him. Kids should not have the ghosts of trauma on their faces. They should be happy, free of the burdens that come with life. He wants to say something to make it- better? More right? He doesn't know if that applies here, because that's what Jason feels, and he doesn't want to take it back.

Turns out, he doesn't have to say anything. Peter bumps his shoulder into Jason's arm as a recognition of the words they don't have yet. Relieved that nothing's too far from reach, Jason sets his arm around Peter's shoulders.

"Look, Peter!" Maps shouts from up ahead.

She's pointing at the wall of the community center facing the street, the biggest, proudest smile on her face. The mural is there in all it's glory, people pointing to it as they pass by, taking photos in front of it.

Spider-Man and Damian's Robin are swinging together over the Upper East End Community sign. Robin is actually grinning, cape pulled back in the wind like bird wings, grapple in hand. Spider-Man is above him, arm reached out for another web. Somehow, it doesn't look like it's from Gotham despite it depicting a Gotham vigilante (and another that people should think is a Gotham vigilante, because they would be none the wiser).

The colors are vibrant, bold in a way that's not neon, but rich and eye catching. Whoever painted this had put a lot of thought into that, into the small details of the webs on the corners of the wall, on the wind under Robin's cape, of making the lights on the painted buildings in the background look warm and bright.

Peter stops walking, eyes wide like that wasn't the image he was expecting. And sure enough, Maps shyly admits, "It's not the garden flowers that we originally wanted to put… But we thought this was better. It makes more sense. The Robins always start their patrols in the East End, but this Robin stuck around longer…"

"And Spider-Man is ours now too!" One kid adds excitedly.

"Who- Who painted this? It looks amazing." Peter's grin is very real.

Maps shakes her hands out as she talks, absolutely beaming with Peter's reaction. "Well, when we got approved for the mural, we went around asking if anyone knew any artists that would want to work with us, and that's when we met Miss Florence! She owns that art shop down on Baker street, you know, the one with the cat? When we told her our idea, she said she and her daughter Analetta like Spider-Man too! She's the one who painted it.!"

"Robin stopped by last night to help too!" Science project girl informs them.

"Oh, did he now?" Jason is never going to let the Baby Bat live this down. Never, in a million years, ever. That must have been where he escaped to for a few while they were on patrol last night. "That must have been pretty cool. Was he nice to everyone?"

"He was! Maps was freaking out."

"I did not!" Maps' face flushes bright red.

"Did too! She's a Robin super-fan!" One boy hits her shoulder with a cheeky grin. "And Spider-Man now too, she's the one who remembered their suit designs enough for Miss Flo to sketch out."

"I just think they're neat!" She protests weakly, toeing the ground with one foot shyly. "You really like it?" She asks Peter, hopeful.

"It's seriously beautiful." Peter looks up at the mural. Jason wishes he could read the kid's mind sometime. It should be impossible to look so sad and so happy at the same time. "I bet Spider-Man likes it too."

NOV 3

Peter is not pleased that Alfred has him on recovery. Bruce doesn't need to be a mind reader or have a sixth sense in order to understand that.

As frustrated as Peter is, he hadn't tried to sneak out yesterday night to go gallivanting off on patrol without anyone knowing, like one Timothy Drake-Wayne or Damian Wayne, when they get the gall to do so. Nor does he defy Alfred in any way, shape, or form. He's a perfectly polite kid, saying his thank you's and please's, and he doesn't argue about the food.

(Not that there's much to argue about. Alfred might be British, but the man can cook a damn good meal. Peter isn't unsatisfied with that aspect, and he shivers less often now that he has two days of nutritious meals and several snacks helping his body catch up. Alfred has it all down to a science, and by the end of the week, there will be a difference, that's for sure.)

He's not fighting it, but he's not happy about it either. Peter had wanted to go out on patrol last night, but Alfred has given him another couple days before he can do anything. It's a standard that they all have to deal with. Stephanie herself is grounded from patrol (Alfred's, not Bruce's, fault) until her stab wound won't reopen. Bruce hadn't been sure how that would go down, because Peter is a very independent kid. But he must have some sort of understanding with Alfred, if he's willing to go along with it. Or maybe he knows that his body needs the proper food in order to be strong.

Or, the third option: he is not immune to Alfred, just like the rest of them.

No matter what the reason, it looks like Peter has found a way to occupy himself while waiting the recovery period out.

Bruce walked into the BatCave about an hour ago to find Peter sitting at one of the workshop tables. He was typing away at a program on the computer, notebooks and tools scattered about in front of him in a haphazard mess that was likely a system only he would understand. For a split second, it was like Bruce was looking at 14 year old Dick as the kid learns a new coding technique that Babs had taught him. Tongue stuck out the side and the same concentrated furrow of the brow and everything.

He doesn't want to hover over Peter's shoulder to find out, because he's learned by now that the others don't appreciate that. But he also can't see from where he's sitting what is on the computer screen, and Bruce is pretty curious to see what's got him so worked up. Because the BatCave is in a state of calm, the way it is before everyone arrives to get ready for patrol, except for Peter's little corner of the workshop.

Dick is up on another level with Jason, the two of them sparring together. Damian is checking his utility belt and restocking what he needs. Duke and Tim are a few steps away, working on a robot that Bruce is at least 90% sure is designed to steal their shoes. He won't tell the others, but mostly out of a curiosity to see how many they can steal before someone notices. Peter has pulled his legs up on his stool (which should not be a comfortable way to sit at all), and as the minutes pass by, he grows more and more upset.

That isn't a change from what he's been doing the last two days.

Like he said- Peter is not happy, and Bruce doesn't need to be a genius in order to tell. Like his father, Peter is wrapped up in a lot of emotions, and he has the same coping mechanism: pretending everything is fine.

He thought that hanging out with Jason for pretty much an entire day would have helped some to clear his mind, and at least make it less awkward between him and Dick somehow. But things are never that easy, he should have known better.

When Peter isn't smiling and talking to everyone like nothing happened, the kid scowls when he's lost in his thoughts, or his face shuts down any emotions whatsoever. He's basically a mirror of his father- who, at the moment, is haunting the halls of Wayne Manor like he died a hundred years ago and his afterlife is nothing but grieving. And when they do manage to be in the same room, Peter avoids looking or talking in Dick's general direction. He isn't ignoring Dick, per say, just avoiding eye contact like it might actually kill him. That, or he finds any excuse to leave the room.

Unfortunately for Dick, his usual excuses come from Damian, of all people. Bruce doesn't know how they clicked so fast, but he's grateful for it. Damian will sense the discomfort, or Ace will alert, and he'll make up a reason to bring Peter somewhere else.

"I'm feeding the turkeys." (This had been met with Peter's delight.)

"I'm going to watch the Housewives." (Bruce has never known Damian to admit that he watches this show. Apparently, it became cool when Peter said he also liked it.)

"Alfred the Cat has a new sweater that just came in." (Damian took a thousand photos and sent his top 40 to the group chat. Peter was in a few of them, as well as Damian, and Bruce spied Dick's home screen has a new wallpaper with them both.)

It's great that the two get along, but Bruce is getting worried about how long Dick can last like this. And it's only day two.

Peter is currently in the state where he's not shut down or pretending he's fine. Whatever it is that he's working on over there, it has him muttering under his breath and angrily scratching away at his notes.

Bruce is pretending to be focused on maintaining a grappling hook when Peter huffs, turns the computer all the way around to face the corner, and says, "Time out for bad codes."

Tim snorts at that, looking away from the wires in his hand. "What'd the code do to you?"

"Existed." Peter practically hisses. He picks up his backpack off the floor, shoves his arm inside, and pulls out a wrist band. When he sets it on the table, he presses a hidden button on the side and it uncompacts. Peter unlatches the side and hooks it around his forearm, the screen lighting up.

"Whoa whoa whoa," Duke scoots backwards on his rolling chair and meets Peter at his table. He points at the tech, a fascinated gleam in his eyes, barely resisting the urge to make grabbing hand motions. "You've been holding back on me, Spider-Man? What is this?"

Peter, gently surprised, tells him, "It's just something I've been using to detect Ohnn's spacial jumps. Senses the pressure in the air, sort of works like a weather radar. I'm calling it the Jumping Radar until I figure out an acronym."

"I like Jumping Radar." Duke comments thoughtfully, eyeing the tech hard enough that Peter takes it off of his arm and hands it to Duke. Duke grins excitedly at this, already turning it over to see the smaller components up close. "It also sounds like 'jumping spider'. Suits you and your theme."

Peter perks up at that, some of his earlier dissent slipping away. "Oh. Really?"

"Really."

"You know, that's a really good idea, actually." Tim sits up, foregoing his own work. He sets the wires down, gazing up at the ceiling before deciding to scoot his chair backwards like Duke had. He observes the Jumping Radar just as closely as Duke is, hovering over the tool and having to brush his hair away from his face. Peter glances between him and Duke, leaning forward eagerly like a kid listening to a story. "How accurate is this, you think?"

"Pretty accurate?" Peter guesses. "It gives me a few seconds of notice before he appears, which is enough right now. But it'd be more accurate if I could figure out how to import it into the nanite tech."

That doesn't just catch Tim and Duke's attention; it also catches Bruce's.

Bruce's blood runs cold, trying to tell himself that it might mean something different for Peter. Nanite technology is used to affect the biological systems of metahumans, in this world. Not something that is pulled out casually in conversation, like Peter referred it with. It could take away their powers for periods of time, used in experimentation.

He hadn't forgotten that Peter's powers meant that he had been experimented on. And when pulling his blood when he was in and out of consciousness after Firefly, they had gone through several different needles before Peter stopped reaching over to break them and had stayed passed out.

"You use nanite tech? Isn't that dangerous?" Duke, the only powered person in the room besides Peter, is rightly uncomfortable with that.

"What? No, why would it be? I mean, unless it gets in the wrong hands, maybe? But they'd have to be able to work out the interface, and no one can use it without Tony giving an override. Or me, I guess."

Peter pulls up his sleeve to show off the bracelet that's always around his wrist. He pulls it back when he wears those clever webshooters of his, but it's always there. The metal shines, inconspicuous. Alfred had kept Peter's tech separate from the rest of his clothes, and Bruce recalls the bracelet had been set away from the tech.

"I don't use it, but Tony does. His Iron Man suit is made of his nanite technology. Before Ohnn brought me here, Tony was able to send this to my wrist. I wanted to see if I could take the Jumping Radar and put it into the nanite tech, but what I'm wanting to do won't work until I can create an AI more advanced than HAFI or Little Legs. They can't even self generate right now because they're not connected to anything."

"Okay, okay, I have a ton of questions now, because that's nothing like I thought you were about to show me." Duke sits up, putting both his hands in the air in front of him as he tries to think. Peter, oblivious to what they were all thinking, blinks at him. "Firstly, Tony is Iron Man, you mentioned that. But what exactly is his, uh, thing? I guess? His suit is made up of these nanobots…? Okay, scratch that question. How does this work? I need to know everything or I'll die."

"We were trying to hold off on asking you all about your universe but…" Tim doesn't look the least bit guilty.

Peter grins when Tim hands him back the Jumping Radar. He sets it down, trying to find the best words to describe it.

Bruce has to admit that he's been curious about this as well. Peter hasn't mentioned much about his home universe yet, besides Tony and Loki, and apparently, a score of villains that he has. Bruce can't help but wonder what this universe must be like, if there are counterparts between heroes, or if everyone there is different from here. There has to be some cross overs, if Peter is a hero there, and Dick is a hero here.

(His chest twists with a pain all too heartbreakingly familiar when Bruce remembers his son is dead in Peter's world. Dead, and having an entirely different family. Bruce knew that alternate universes likely existed, and that realistically, there had to be versions where they didn't all know each other. But another part of him hoped that in every universe, his family would be together, and in every other universe, they'd be happy, healthy, and whole. Even if it meant that he wasn't there for them, and someone else was.

But even in a world where Bruce isn't their family, he loses a son.)

"…Tony is the most brilliant man in the world. At least, in my opinion." Peter tells them honestly. He has that comfortable smile that he gets when he thinks about his mentor. "There's plenty of other heroes that are smart, like Dr. Banner. But Tony's field of expertise is engineering. He owns Stark Industries, the largest tech conglomerate in the world. Pretty much all of our tech is Stark-made, from phones to the big stuff like city-wide generators. The second biggest is OSCORP, but they're nowhere near Stark level."

Peter thinks on it for a second, glancing at Bruce. "Actually, I think it's kind of like Wayne Industries. I guess, in terms of 'being known world wide.' I see a lot less people hate Bruce, though, so I think that's where the similarities stop? Like, everyone knows that Tony is Iron Man, but no one knows that Bruce is Batman."

"Everyone knows? Like, in your cape community?" Duke leans back in his chair, contemplative.

"Oh, ew, you call it a cape community?" Peter actually winces. Tim's brows raise, a ghost of a laugh on his lips, but Peter is already apologizing. "Sorry, that was rude. We don't get a lot of heroes with capes in my world. You guys would like Thor, I guess. And, uh, no. It's not just our heroes. It's everyone in the world."

That sounds so monumentally stupid that Bruce almost forgets to think. He doesn't even pretend that he's not eavesdropping on their conversation anymore- it's just that that was so much of a slap in the face to hear that he couldn't sit idly by. "You're telling me everyone in the world knows his identity? How is that even safe?"

Peter side eyes him for a second without answering. When he does, he admits, "It's complicated."

"How did he get found out?" Tim asks before Bruce can. This might be the first time they get real information on Tony, and now that they are, Bruce is wondering how Peter didn't get kidnapped sooner. If Bruce came out as Batman, his entire family would be at risk within the hour. And here Tony is adopting a kid into a situation like that? No sense of privacy?

Alright, a bit hypocritical. Bruce's kids are always in the spotlight despite how much of the press is scared of him, Clark, and Lois. But it's a different level of threat when it's asking villains to show up at your doorstep.

"He sort of… told everyone?" Peter laughs. Bruce does not find it funny, not even a little bit. "He got kidnapped in Afghanistan by some terrorists. They wanted him to build a Jericho missile for them" Jericho missle? "-but he instead built the Mark I Iron Man suit. Which was really cool because he was, like, dying from shrapnel in his chest and he was in a cave and had basically nothing to work with." ? "He stopped Stark Industries from manufacturing weapons when he realized how much damage they were doing, fought his ex business partner who also had a suit? And SHIELD was all like, 'you gotta have a cover story' because that's, like, all they do, ever. And Tony is gonna Tony, so when he was on live TV for his press conference, he just told everyone he was Iron Man."

…Bruce can not wrap his mind about that.

Not the part about the backstory. That… is whatever. He's used to insane backstories like that, so he's stopped asking questions even if they nag at the part of his brain that wants to know more. But the part where Tony was explicitly advised to have a cover story by what sounds like an organization that involves heroes, and he went ahead and did the exact opposite of that.

He would never let Peter know it, because he really was trying to like or at least understand Tony after realizing their mistaken assumptions, but…

"So, his Iron Man suits are made up of nanite tech. Which is not nanobots that go into your bloodstream." Duke clarifies.

"Yes- wait what?" Peter does a double take.

"You said it needs an AI to work? What exactly are nanites, in your world?" Duke asks, likely sensing that they were about to go down a rabbit hole. Peter squints at him, wanting to press for more, but leaves it be for now.

"They're microscopic machines that build off of each other to make larger structures. They're powered by an internal energy source, but to give it commands so that it can reconfigure itself and the like, I would connect it to an AI." Peter reaches into his hair, and when he brings his hand back down, there's a thin spider on his finger. It looks like a harvestman spider, but it has a thicker abdomen.

Duke jumps back with a horrified screech, Tim leans forward with interest. Peter tilts his head and snickers at Duke's reaction.

"The AI would have to be more advanced than Little Legs here." The tiny spider reaches it's front two legs out towards them, and Duke groans, pushing Tim in front of him. "He's not gonna bite you, Duke. He's a bot, not a real spider. And even if he did- which, again, impossible, he doesn't have pinchers- it wouldn't hurt. Trust me, I'd know."

Bruce is glad that Peter finds humor in that, but Bruce does not. Again, it's more questions that Bruce wants to ask, but knows he has to hold back on. Bruce is not… comfortable, not knowing the information needed about this other world. He's hoping that once Peter gets settled into Wayne Manor a little more, he'll be up to answering the questions that Bruce has.

Like how he was bitten by a genetically mutated, radioactive spider, and no adult noticed. Or if they did notice, and that's why Peter is cagey about telling people.

"Little Legs has to be the cutest name for this guy. You made him?" Tim peers at the AI. Bruce can see the cogs turning in his mind, and he huffs with amusement knowing that Tim is going to want to learn more about this so he could perhaps make his own.

…Bruce should be worried about Tony and Tim meeting.

"Yeah, with Tony's help." Peter's amused grin starts to fade into something bittersweet as he thinks more on it. "We made him and HAFI together. But that's all the AI I've done so far… I was attempting to try and make at least HAFI, because he was rudimentary enough that I could maybe work off of him, but it's a lot harder without Tony. He'd know what to do better than I could."

Ah, that must be where his annoyance from earlier came from. Bruce glances at the computer that is still in time out at the same time Peter does. Peter is giving it a glare like it personally was keeping Peter stuck in their world.

"And there's no way I'd be able to create a FRIDAY all on my own. I'm actually far more into biochem like my dad was than I am with engineering."

…This time, the referral to 'dad' isn't attributed to Tony, is it? So Dick's counterpart worked in biochemistry? Bruce would have never considered it, but he supposes that's because Dick is more into the engineering side of science in this universe, so there's a bias there. While Tim has a lot more focus on computers, Dick actually has a talent in building and designing.

Peter tenses when he fully considers his own words. He doesn't acknowledge what he said, and the topic is still far too fresh for anyone else to want to press him on it. 'Dad' is a taboo word at the moment.

"We should put the Jumping Radar around town."

Peter, halfway through trying to convince Duke to hold Little Legs, glances up at Tim. "What do you mean?"

"You can't be out in the city all the time, nor can you be two places at once-" Bruce doesn't miss the narrowing of Tim's eyes that always accompanies him when he says 'debatable.' "-so we could place other Jumping Radars around Gotham. It could collect information, too, and we could start to see where he appears most often."

"That's… really smart." Peter admits, scratching the back of his neck.

"We could also try to help you with the AI, if you'd like?" Duke offers, a hesitant thing. "Tim and I both are into coding and stuff. And Babs, too. Actually, no one beats Babs at this sort of thing. It might not be this FRIDAY you mentioned, but…"

He trails off when he sees Peter's face. He's returned to the ghost of himself, turning away from them while trying to plaster a grin on his face, but looking far more pained than it should be. Bruce wishes he could say something to make that disappear, but he knows there's not a lot he could say that could make the pain stop.

"Yeah, maybe." Peter replies. Bruce watches as Duke's gaze turns softer, but determined. Like he's just made up his mind about something.

"In the meantime, you need a break from your current project." Tim grabs Peter's stool. Without getting up from his own chair, he begins dragging Peter backwards towards his and Duke's workspace. Bruce shakes his head at the sound of the stool scraping the metal floor, and Tim is lucky that Alfred wasn't here to scold him. "Remember that robot we talked about before?"

"You mean when you were stalking me and then Steph kidnapped me to Batburger?"

"Yeah, that one. I'm making you another accomplice."

NOV 4

Damian enjoys a good challenge.

The League was nothing but challenges, nothing but trails and tests, nothing but sacrifices for the sake of his Grandfather. Damian had spent nearly his entire soul for them, trained away all of the love he could hold. "Love" made people weak, made them foolish and irrational. It was something that was reserved for the riffraff of the world, the ones that were not destined for greatness.

Love was for little kids, and Damian was not given the privilege of being a child. He was always a weapon.

Well, Damian also wasn't allowed to have an identity in any way, shape, or form. The challenges that he actually enjoyed- which were puzzles, mysteries, questions of life- were stripped away for what was more "useful." The League was full of expectations that Damian could not escape. Not until he met his family.

Losing Father so soon after meeting him, after only just getting to see a glimpse of who he was, and then being forced to grow without him there, left a stitch in his heart that will never truly be repaired. But at least when they met again, Damian had learned that love was not a weakness. That life was more than the weak and the strong. That it wasn't just being nothing before you were here, being nothing after, and being set to have a purpose in the meantime. He was someone that he actually wanted his Father to meet and learn about.

It was all thanks to Richard that it happened.

He had a terrible habit of seeing right through the walls that Damian set up to protect himself and seeing the hollow, vulnerable parts that were left behind. Damian owes the person he is now to Richard and his patience, his never ending faith of wanting to do more, to be more for people. Following in his footsteps felt more right than any lesson that League had ever taught him, and not once was he met with pain when he failed to meet Richard in the next step.

There were no raised fists, no locked, dark rooms. No fresh wounds on his back left to bleed and stain his shirt. There had only been compassion, understanding, and a willingness to stay. Perhaps that's why Damian can not sit idly by as he witnesses one of the most important people in his life go through a trial that he can not walk alone.

Though Damian will tell himself that it is merely because he likes a challenge.

The training section is on the first level of the Cave, with three rooms in total. There's a larger platform where they do their warm ups before going on a patrol, where Timothy and Duke are at now, stretching and talking idly about their school work. There's two sets of stairs on either side of metal bleachers that lead down into a sunken sparring room. This is where Damian is with Peter, sitting on the bleachers after Damian had gotten done with his own exercises. The sparring room is wide enough that they could run a simulation of most scenarios, but it isn't as comprehensive as the actual simulation room that the Justice League has.

On their right, there's a wall to wall (reinforced) glass partition that separates the sparring room and the weightlifting area. Father and Richard are there, chatting with each other. Peter is pretending that he's looking around the sparring room with interest, but his eyes will glide over towards the weightlifting room, a thoughtful furrow in his brow when he foolishly believes Damian isn't paying attention.

"You know that staring at Richard isn't going to clear anything up for you, right?"

Peter, caught red handed, is upset for a brief second. Damian wonders if maybe this is the moment Peter decides he actually does hate Damian's abrasive nature, but then the boy just sighs, no fight in him.

"I dunno, staring is working so far."

"You could, I don't know, talk to him. Just a thought. Might be hard for you to have, but you'll get there if you actually try."

"There's nothing to talk about." Peter insists. Damian scoffs, because that's the boldest lie that he's ever heard.

"There's plenty to talk about, you just don't want to, like a coward. You mentioned before that you have a habit of avoiding tough conversations and you appreciate my bluntness? This is me being blunt. Can't get any more clear than this: You're getting nowhere at a spectacular rate. Unless this is about you not knowing where to start, then perhaps I can help. How about you write the topics down, throw them in a hat, and I'll pick it for you so you can get it over with?" The other boy huffs at that, as if the notion of talking about anything is inconceivable. Damian rolls his eyes, turning from stretching his legs to face Peter. "You're avoiding him."

"And you've been helping me avoid him." Peter grunts back. He puts his chin on his hand, elbow on his knee, and is making a huge show of not looking in Richard's direction.

He's got Damian there, he has been doing that. "I was giving you a grace period and time to reflect. Richard does it all the time. That's what he's doing now." Peter turns his gaze back onto Damian, something calculating in his eye. Damian presses on unabashedly. "It's been three days where you've been given time to think about it, and even today, you had the Manor to yourself and Alfred while we were at work or school. Meaning uninterrupted access to your thoughts."

Damian had tried to get out of going to school, for many reasons. Mostly because he thinks it's pointless, considering he has written five doctoral theses and his teachers are as stale as saltines left out for days and as blank as a fresh printer paper, so they teach him nothing of value. But another reason being that Peter would likely hate being left alone all day. Sort of like how Ace needed Titus, because as well as he gets along with Alfred the Cat, Ace needed a companion that could keep up with him.

He had not gotten out of school, and when he said exactly that to Father, the man had just seemed amused more than helpful.

"I thought you liked Richard."

Peter sits up straighter, brow twitching with annoyance. "I do."

"Then why are you avoiding him? He wants to help you just like the rest of us do." Damian hadn't caught the 'us' until it was out of his mouth. But it's too late now to take it back, and unlike his brothers that would have pointed it out to tease him, Peter doesn't acknowledge it.

"I know that he wants to help. I'm not a moron. I get that part." Peter sounds more upset than Damian is likely meant to understand.

"Then what don't you get?"

Peter doesn't reply. He just chews his cheek, stewing in his emotional turmoil just like the rest of their dramatic family.

And with that, he can practically hear everyone's voices in his head, telling him to back off for now and try again later. What Damian wants is to see Richard happy, and Richard would be happy if Peter and him were not at odds at the moment. But Peter can not come forward until he gets over whatever it is that is bothering him. However, Peter can't get over what is bothering him if he doesn't talk to Richard. And Richard is giving him space so that they don't talk, which is making him sad.

It's a never ending circle that frustrates Damian to no end.

Damian understands that this must be a lot to be alright with. Losing his parents, whatever happened in between, and then getting to an alternate reality where they're both alive. But that's just it- they're both alive. They may not be the parents that Peter was supposed to have, but isn't this a golden opportunity? To be able to learn about his parents in some way? Or is it really that painful to see Richard's face?

The question is forming on his lips before he can stop himself, but Peter cuts in right before it.

"Does this room go through simulations?"

Missed opportunity. He'll try again at a later date like originally planned. "Yes. There's a similar room in the Watchtower and some other League locations. Do you have something similar in your universe?"

"FRIDAY and I run through simulations every Thursday so I can 'develop problem solving skills and critical thinking', whatever that means." Peter recalls. He cranes his neck to see the top of the room, where the generator for the simulations runs. "And you guys have a Tower also? What's yours like?"

Now that piques Damian's interest more than talk of simulations. He sits up, trying to think of which question to ask first. Damian had gotten such an annoying earful from his family for his questioning at dinner (which he does not understand, because the conversation was going to happen anyways, and they learned something from it, and Peter wasn't upset about it), that he was biting his tongue about any more questions about Peter's past. Just so that he wont' get another damn lecture.

"The Watchtower is a secret Justice League base that orbits Earth. Your… Avengers. Tt, what a weird name for a hero league." Damian complains, and Peter raises a brow as if to say 'And you're any better?' because he has no taste. "Your Avengers have a Watchtower?"

Peter shrugs, leaning back on his elbows on the bleacher behind him. "Not a Watchtower. I don't think we have bases floating around Earth or whatever. But then again, SHIELD is picky about telling me anything. Or, really, telling anyone anything."

Damian is about to ask what SHIELD is, but Peter continues on.

"I live at the Avengers Tower, in Manhattan. It's not top secret though. It used to be called Stark Tower, but now that the Avengers live there, it's gotten a new name."

"Your Avengers all live together?" Damian thinks that would be a recipe for disaster if they tried that here. The dynamics between all of the cape community is ever changing and hard to care about. "Don't you all have your own cities to take care of?"

"That does sound a little out there." Timothy's voice joins them. He's already sitting down behind them on the bleachers, Duke well on his way to tagging along. Peter isn't surprised that they're there.

"It's not exactly like that? Pepper and Tony live there, 'cause like I said, it used to be Stark Tower. We live there full time, and so do some of the others that don't have their own families and stuff. Most of my mentors live in the Tower and sort of cycle around from place to place. Really, the Tower is more of a headquarters that everyone has the option to stay at. Spider-Man mostly sticks to Queens, 'cause that's where I grew up, but I travel around Brooklyn and the other parts of New York too from time to time. We have our own places to be, but it's not like the others have specific cities. They go where SHIELD asks them to, or if their own shit comes up."

"So your Avengers aren't self-sustaining? You keep bringing up this SHIELD organization." Duke points out.

"The Avengers were formed by SHIELD, which is an extra-government anti-terrorist organization. Things are kind of… testy, right now." Peter hums in thought. "A lot of people don't like mutants or enhanced people. They think we should be regulated more because of how many villains tear shit up, and that's where SHIELD came in. They formed the Avengers during an alien invasion, and they just kind of stuck around. It makes people feel better to have a group formed for that specific purpose."

"So, who all is on the team?" Tim asks. "Iron Man, you, and who else?"

"There's at least one assassin." Damian crosses his arms.

That causes Tim and Duke to look at him in mild surprise, but Peter grins as if he'd been waiting for Damian to bring it up. "And how'd you know that? Guessing by statistics?"

"You were trained by one. I wouldn't miss that." Damian replies. "Though you do not kill, your movements are precise and pointed when you do go in for an attack, but you use mostly use evasive techniques that are similar to what the League of Assassins would teach."

"I knew you were trained by an assassin, you walk just like Miss Natasha does." Peter turns around to face Damian fully on the bench. "Actually, most of you do. But my spider-sense puts you and Miss Natasha in the same category."

"Natasha?"

"Natasha Romanoff. She's the world's most talented assassin, the Black Widow. She's one of my mentors, and a founding member of the Avengers."

"You know, I'm sensing a theme in the naming here." Duke points out. "Iron Man, Black Widow… Spider-Man is kind of like a mash up of that. Does everyone have to have 'man' or a spider related thing for their name?"

"Hey! Spider-Man is an original! At least I'm not named after a traffic direction."

"My name is symbolic!"

"Excuse me that I don't know your lore."

"You hadn't asked!"

Peter pauses, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "You know what? You're right, I'm sorry. It's better than Copyright over here." He jabs a thumb at Timothy, who scoffs in offense. "What is your lore?"

Duke claps his hands together, happy with his success. Before he can tell him, Timothy butts in. "Excuse you?"

"Don't 'excuse me.' You're named after a restaurant! Doesn't exactly inspire the fear of justice into people."

"What are you talking about?"

"No, no, he's right. Even without the apparently real restaurant that he has in his universe, didn't you name yourself after one of Jace's old aliases? Or was it Dick's before that? I can never remember. Because y'know, you guys love not having your own names."

"Duke gets it!" Peter sounds like he's been waiting for someone to say it. "I'm still hung up on Superboy, and the fact that you guys have all shared a hero identity. And now you're telling me there's more?"

"Duke was a Robin, by technicality. He was literally the leader of the We Are Robin movement. He's talking out of his ass right now."

"Wait… Peter…" Duke squints at him. "You don't-"

"If you're about to ask me if spider silk comes out of my ass, I think I'll have to punt you across the room."

"Fair enough."

Damian feels that itch of wanting to know more, the same that settles on his skin when he's found a particular complex puzzle. He tunes the others out, trying to place why this Natasha and the spider-sense intrigues him so much.

When Damian had first seen that video of Spider-Man that Cassandra sent to them, he had wanted to know everything about him. He saw the techniques, yes, but he also saw how fast they were executed. Peter has an ability to change direction- both literally and physically- in the blink of an eye. He's fast on his feet and to change his plans. He'd attribute this to Peter having contingencies like Father, but by his own admission, Peter 'fucks around and finds out.'

But despite the questionable method, he makes it work. It's that training that he received that works so well with Peter's spider-sense and his other natural abilities. Peter has the strength to hold up a building, but he favors speed, agility, and preciseness more than that. And Damian wants to know how it works. He wants to see just what this other assassin would teach their student, wants to see what is similar and what is different, wants to see exactly what Peter does with it.

Because Damian likes a challenge, he asks:

"Peter, do you want to spar?"

Whatever the losers were talking about comes to a halt mid sentence. Peter tilts his head, and for the first time in a couple days, he looks excited.

"You want to? How long before you guys go on patrol?" He glances at Timothy, but he's already standing up, so they're going to do it no matter the answer.

Damian stands as well, though because he's going to suit up soon, he's already in his leggings and undershirt, ready to spar. Damian crosses over to the sparring floor while Peter hangs back to take off his hoodie. He continues to wear the long sleeve shirt and his web shooters- Damian has noticed that Peter doesn't ever roll up his sleeves or uncovers his hands on his own decision in front of others.

"Uh, about thirty minutes." Timothy answers. Of course, his elder brother is just as curious about Spider-Man as Damian is, so he has no objections either. "Dami, you need a cotton wrap."

"Tt, as if I wouldn't have them on me." Damian pulls out the gloves from his legging pocket.

Peter hurries over to stand in the center of the room with Damian. The sparring floor is as wide as a basketball court, with markings for different purposes. There's a line that splits it in half. Peter chooses to put his back to the weightlifting room, and Damian faces that direction. In the center of the court where they are standing, there is a circle that they use for wrestling and boxing matches, to mark where they can't leave the ring. Peter, observant despite being hard headed, looks at these lines as Damian puts his gloves on.

"Are we keeping inside the ring?"

"Depends," Damian puts his hand son his hips. "When you usually spar, what are your rules?"

Peter hesitates, and then gives Damian a goofy, sheepish grin. "Don't be stupid?"

"Should have figured." Damian sighs. "What do you usually do when you spar with this Natasha?"

"How about you guys just stick to regular sparring for now?" Timothy offers from the sidelines. "You're gonna want the time to cool down before we go out, so stick to whoever gets pinned or knocked down first."

Damian looks to Peter to see if that's good for him, and the other teen shrugs with acceptance. Damian levels into a starting position- leaning on the balls of his feet, arms on either side of him so he can be prepared if Peter will strike first or if he'll have to do it. Peter only remembers to do this when Damian does it, but his posture is much more laid-back, more defensive than offensive. So it'll be Damian who strikes first.

And that he does.

He knows that Peter can handle this- he held up a building, after all- so Damian doesn't hold back. He moves forward fast as a viper to swing at Peter's face, putting actual effort into the swing that he'd avoid with the others. Peter sidesteps the move faster than Damian can blink, twists around to get behind Damian, and sticks his foot out to trip him.

Damian's ankle catches on Peter's. To stop himself so he doesn't hit the ground, he places his palm flat on the floor and cartwheels back up to his feet, just at the edge of the ring. Peter has an easy going grin on his lips, as if he expected that much.

That was remarkably fast.

It's not that Damian underestimated Peter. After seeing the other teen keep Batman on his toes, always out of reach, and then managing to steal the cape off of his back, Damian would be stupid to think that he'd be an easy fight. But it's one thing to watch it happen to someone else, it's another to see it up close.

He narrows his eyes, choosing to dig his focus in more. He should think about it the way he'd spar with one of the speedsters- thinking ahead, anticipating their moves so Damian is not having to play catch up the entire time.

This time, Damian goes to a lower punch towards his stomach. Peter ducks around his arm, but Damian swings back his elbow towards Peter's head. His misses yet again, however, because Peter has bent back to avoid it. Damian drops low and sweeps his feet under Peter's legs as he's fallen back.

Peter jumps up to avoid it, flipping back twice and dropping into a crouch on the ground, just at the edge of the ring. It's a move that Richard would pull on them, thinking himself funny. And of course, Peter's grin matches it.

The other boy goes first this time. He kicks off to go at Damian head on. Damian side steps to avoid the hit to his stomach, but Peter surprises Damian by suddenly turning mid way and grabbing the back of Damian's shirt. He swings Damian around the ring and releases him once he gets the momentum, trying to get Damian out of the ring. Oh, like hell he's about to let that happen!

Damian toes the edge of the line. He has to spin on one foot and use his other to rebalance himself. He scowls when Peter laughs, already hearing how much distance he put between them before he even turns fully back around.

"What's that face for?" Peter smirks.

"Quit grinning, it makes you look stupid." Damian retorts, but he can't help his own small grin. It's just satisfying when someone is competent in a fight. "You haven't beaten me yet."

Damian pushes off his foot to go at Peter. He decides for a right hook- Peter dodges. While behind Damian, Peter spins around to kick at Damian's side. "What, I'm not allowed to have fun?"

He avoids the kick, turning to swing his own leg up to kick Peter's head. Peter rolls forward to avoid it and pops back up just as fast.

It continues like that, a dance between them where neither of them manage to land an actual hit. Though he's sure that Peter could, if he was actually serious about this and it wasn't just a spar. They're both more focused on getting the other to step out of the ring in order to claim a victory. It becomes like a dance, almost, one that they lose time to. Peter will quip something off hand when the silence gets too much, and Damian will retort every now and then.

It's not until Richard calls out to them that they snap out of it.

"Five minutes to suit up, Dami!"

There!

Peter hesitates when Richard speaks, glancing back at the bleachers in surprise. Richard and Father are standing next to Tim, Duke, and Stephanie, watching the spar intently. Damian goes to kick Peter out of the ring while his focus is shot.

Except Peter's hands reach out to grab Damian's ankle, fast as a shot- far faster than he's been the entire spar. It was more like a reflex than a conscious movement, and Peter's eyes widen as if that's exactly what it was. His focus back on their spar, Peter kicks out to trip Damian's other foot right as Damian tries to get his ankle out of Peter's grip. Damian loses his balance. The air whooshes around him, and Damian finds himself laying flat on his back.

When he sits up, he looks down to see that he's out of the ring, and Peter stands over him, distracted by glancing at the weightlifting room and back to the bleachers.

He hadn't noticed that everyone was there. It's not like Damian had either, but Peter has a real problem with that, doesn't he? Always needing to know where everyone is in a room, and getting tense when he doesn't.

That can't just be from that spider-sense of his. Damian knows that look isn't just because it was Richard that had spoken. He's the exact same way. Though nowadays, Damian finds the Manor a comfortable place, and he doesn't itch when he isn't aware of where everyone is, that had not been the case when he first arrived. The League had trained him to constantly be aware of his surroundings, even when he should be safe.

It was a lesson that Richard had talked to him about once. How it wasn't just something that the League consciously trained into him, but also a trauma response. Damian used to be scared that someone was going to hurt him if he wasn't aware.

Who did that to Peter?

"What the hell was that?" Damian brushes himself off. Tim and Duke are already bounding up the bleachers to go get suited up for patrol, and Stephanie is speaking to Bruce. Richard is glancing over at the pair on the sparring floor, but is trying not to say anything.

Peter snaps out of it, and reaches his hand out to Damian to help him up. Damian takes it, finding that Peter is shaking his head as if to clear away his thoughts. "What was what?"

"That grab at the end." Damian says. Peter must have expected to talk about the other thing. But Damian finds that bringing it up when he could just make sure to help Peter feel safe the way Richard had done for him would be shameful. "You looked surprised that you did it."

"Oh," He laugh lightly, coming back to himself. "Well, I was surprised. It was a reflex."

"A reflex." Damian repeats.

"Yeah. Sometimes I can't control it. Most times I can't." Peter holds out his hands, just looking at them. "It just happens when I'm in danger. I almost kicked the shit out of Bruce that one time, but I managed to stop it when I recognized there wasn't a danger. That could have ended badly."

"Your body just reacts like that without your conscious thought?"

"Yeah, it does. Dodging bullets before they fire, catching things that are thrown at me, stuff like that. My spider-sense is always aware of my surroundings." Peter explains to him. It sounds true, even if it is insane. Damian wonders just how far that can go…

"Dami," Richard calls out again, much closer this time.

Peter tenses and looks over his shoulder at him. Richard smiles warmly, though he's still hesitant around Peter, like one would be for a spooked deer, and there's a twinge of sadness to it that doesn't settle well with Damian.

"That was a good spar, you two." Richard tries, and Peter nods without a word, looking away from him and messing with the velcro of the gloves on his hands as if he ever actually takes the gloves off. Richard winces. "Um, Dami, we really gotta suit up. B might take off with Tim if you're late."

"I am not letting that fool take my patrol route."

NOV 5th

"Fourteen!"

"Yeah, well, I have fifteen, so suck on that, Bird."

"No you do not!"

"Yes I so do! You're just mad 'cause I'm in the lead!"

Tim thinks that maybe he should have considered Jason's offer to help chaperone the kids after all. He hadn't anticipated just how much this game would tire him out…

Maybe he's getting old too, like Dick?

It's Peter's first night out back on patrol, and he hadn't accounted for how much energy Peter would have, and how apparently, Damian feeds off of that energy now. Like some kind of energy vampire. No, actually- they encourage each other, in a never ending cycle of swapping a singular braincell between the pair. It might have only gotten worse after the spar, because now every time they get the chance, they're doing something like this, and they're starting to build games with unspoken rules to them.

Like, when Tim and Duke got home from school, they had caught up with Peter and asked how he was doing while in the kitchen, just shooting the breeze as they all avoid the elephant in the circus tent. Damian got home after them, stalking into the kitchen with a plan. Without even a greeting, he had thrown at knife at Peter's head, which the other caught with far too much ease. Peter wasn't surprised, either- according to him, Damian had done it sporadically throughout the morning while the demon brat was getting ready for school.

After that, they had sparred again downstairs, and ran through a few simulations. Tim would check on them every now and then to find that they had developed some sort of telepathy, because while they weren't quiet (Peter makes sure of this, because he always has something funny to say), they were getting through the simulations without a word to each other about what to do. They just did it, working together like they'd been doing it all their lives.

It's actually a little terrifying how well they picked up on that. Bruce had watched them for a few minutes during the last spar, and he had gravely told Tim, "That's a dangerous pair."

Terrifying, but impressive.

Alfred hadn't been too happy to hear that they let Damian and Peter spar, something about how Peter was on rest, but the kid looks perfectly fine to Tim. Either way, Alfred had lifted the grounding tonight. And no one commented on Alfred's amusement when Peter cheered about that, then sped off to get ready with Damian.

Tonight is a haze of games and speed running patrol, but the night before had been largely uneventful.

Tim, Damian, and Bruce were investigating Ohnn's last known steps in Gotham, which was honestly too long ago for it to make them feel easy about his absence. Adding Peter's knowledge of Ohnn's movements along with what they had been tracking, Ohnn did have a sort of schedule: three days, three nights, for the most part. But it's been long enough since the last time that Ohnn appeared for that schedule to be reliable anymore. That, or he's been able to cover his tracks now, and that wouldn't be good either.

When looking through the night that he disappeared, they had discovered that Ohnn had visited The Iceberg Lounge.

What Ohnn and his mystery partner could want with Cobblepott is to be determined, but it's more likely that he went to the Lounge for another reason. Which would be much more welcomed, because Penguin has a nasty habit of covering his tracks too well. Tim isn't looking forward to sneaking through their records.

Tim had put up listening devices in some new places two months prior (Cobblepott's hench-goons had found the ones that were previously in there before, but Tim thinks he got creative enough that these should last longer), so they had listened in on a good-old-stakeout for a while. The only part of the entire evening that was worth noting was that apparently some fear gas containers went missing from several shipments that someone bought, and one mafia family is blaming a rival for it.

Bruce had to call Jason about it, since the two particular mafias had their hands dipped in around Crime Alley, and one of the families was currently on Hood's List. This is a comprehensive list of people that Do Not Want To Fuck With Hood. Fear Gas being apart of their shipments and them having a record of helping Crane in the past to terrorize Crime Alley kids means that Jason is going to be putting the fear of god into some of them tonight.

Since Jason was out doing his thing, and Dick and Cass were out on patrol together without Tim (Cass had kissed Tim's forehead and told him that no, it was just going to be her and Dick tonight, but maybe next time), Tim had thought that he'd be with Bruce, Peter, and Damian.

But Bruce had decided at the last second to go with Jason instead, and tasked Tim to watch over Damian and Peter.

Of course, Tim had to say yes. He didn't have to say anything for Tim to know that Bruce was likely going to look at the fear gas lead, because Crane being out and them not knowing about it would stir trouble none of them want. Jason had looked over at Peter and Damian pushing each other and loudly shouting about something stupid, looked at Tim, and given a rare: "Do you want help with that, Baby Bird?"

Jason offering to give up a lead in Crime Alley, when Bruce was going?

Tim should have taken him up on that, seriously. It was clearly a warning. (More accurately, Jason probably didn't want to spend that time with Bruce alone, and him not wanting to let Peter out of his sight).

But he had gotten it into his head that they'd just be placing the Jumping Radars that Peter had built in his free time, and there was no need to bring four people to do that. Besides, it'd keep the teenagers busy! No problem, Tim could handle it. He has the experience of wrangling Bart, Kon, and Cassie.

(Ignore that Tim also had to be wrangled sometimes. It's not relevant at all.)

Except now they started a game of putting up their Jumping Radars faster than the other can, and even Tim, expert watcher, has a difficult time trying to keep an eye on them. Tim has decided that it's better for him to hang back, look at the GPS, and then go double check where they put them and that they're properly put up, rather than try to keep up with the two of them. If he tried, he'd get an aneurysm or something.

And he sounds like he's complaining, but it is actually kind of fun.

Being able to see Dami act like a kid and not a miniature adult is always interesting and heartwarming, and seeing Peter have the time of his life on patrol with them feels great too. Peter being cooped up in the mansion doesn't fit the kid at all, and no doubt he's been itching to get back on the streets.

"There's only two left for Spidey, and three left for Robin. Then that's it for this district." He informs the pair. "I'll buy the winner an extra scoop of ice cream at the end of the night."

"Might as well give up now, Bird." Peter taunts. Tim hears him both on the comms and above him, so he looks up just in time to see Spider-Man swing overhead. Damian is somewhere a few blocks over.

"You're gonna eat your words, and I'm gonna be eating victory."

Peter lands next to Tim on the roof, showing Tim his empty hands, clear of any of the small, bug-like devices. With Spider-Man's mask still being repaired and Peter in the domino, the smirk on his face is plain to see as he tells Damian, "Well, you better hurry, then. I'm getting hungry."

(He looks so much like Robin, he looks so much like Robin, he looks so much like-)

Tim laughs. Peter had lied about having only fifteen JR's left, so Damian would still think they were competing and rush around. Looks like Peter is the winner this round, but that trick might not work a second time tonight. Tim turns his comms off and Peter follows suit, coming to sit down next to Tim on the ledge.

"Having fun, Spidey?" Tim asks, though a part of him is still distracted.

With that domino on, looking at Peter makes Tim feel like he's nine years old again and running around Gotham with his camera, desperate to get a picture of his favorite hero. The only difference is that Tim never got a chance to sit next to Dick like this when Dick was still Robin. He'd only ever had the chance to see him from afar through the camera lens. Always a spectator, never sitting at his side.

Even now, when Tim actually can sit next to Dick, he's still a spectator. Still the three year old that watched the Flying Graysons soar through the air in that circus tent. Tim has never stopped watching, and he doesn't think he ever will.

Crazy how things come full circle. It was that watching that made it so easy for Tim to see Dick, to see Robin, through Peter and Spider-Man.

He shouldn't have kept it to himself, the dimension thing. He knows that wasn't his best course of action, but Tim hadn't just kept it to himself because Damian had annoyed him. (Though, that was still a big reason). Tim had actually been looking for evidence that he could be right, so that no one could call him crazy.

It was that reason that he hadn't said anything. "I didn't want to be called crazy." is actually a sore spot in the house, even a year later. As great as they all are getting along, and as much progress as they made…

(Like, Bruce actually wanting to… go places with him? Not just working, not just at the Manor, but doing something, just the two of them? The last time they had done that, it was before Jason attacked Tim at Titan's Tower. Tim thought it would be the last time.

And Dick, his big brother, acknowledging that the communication between them had crumbled a long, long time ago, and wanting to fix it? Again- before the Titan's Tower, Tim and Dick had been very close. If Bruce wasn't Tim's father, he had at least been assured that Dick was his big brother, was his family. That hadn't changed after the Tower, but it had felt… different. Tim is a liar, at heart, and a coward. Always a spectator.)

…With as much progress as they made, some part of Tim still feels like the 17 year old that dropped out of high school and left everything and everyone behind to go looking for Bruce, knowing that he couldn't call for help or quit, because everyone thought he was crazy for thinking Bruce was alive. Especially Dick.

So he… he just wanted proof. Before telling anyone. But if he had said that, it would have come with another heart-to-heart that Dick didn't have the energy for and Tim really didn't want from anyone else.

"It's way more fun to do patrol with other people!" Peter swings his feet as he talks. "I don't really have anyone to do that with! All my mentors are busy doing their own stuff, for the most part, so it's just me. Unless Black Cat wants to join in. Sometimes she doesn't wanna steal and she just wants someone to hang out with. Which I get, cause sometimes I just wanted someone to hang out with too."

"Who's Black Cat?"

"A thief that I've been trying to catch." Peter shrugs as if that didn't make Tim's brain short circuit.

"What?"

"She's really stealthy, but I'm sneakier than her so that's not what makes her hard to catch. She has a luck manipulation power, that's what makes her super hard to catch, 'cause my luck is very, very, very bad. She didn't even need to tell me for me to know that. She's my age, started stealing, like, last year? Maybe a little longer. Or… professionally stealing. She's a kleptomaniac, she's probably been stealing since she was a toddler."

"Holy shit," Tim breathes out a hysteric laugh.

His mind flashes with the amount of times he had to find anything to do so he could avoid Catwoman and Batman being all lovey dovey and gross on the Gotham rooftops. And all the times he's heard Dick and Jason complain about the Will-They-Won't-They phase that they had when the two of them were Robin. And a part of Tim's mind can not compute that Peter has his own version of Catwoman?

"What?" Peter doesn't get it.

"Is…" Tim does not know how to word this. How do you ask if your nephew has a crush on a girl? That's awful. Tim is terrible at emotional conversations, and romance, specifically. When he has a crush, he would rather ball it up inside of himself and lock it away in a deep, deep void that no one can look at. "Is… Black Cat… a lady friend?"

Peter stares at him, probably blinking behind the mask. "Her pronouns are she/they?"

"I meant- Like- Ugh. Do you have a crush on her?"

Immediately Peter gags, horrified enough to recoil away from Tim. "Eww! No! I think we both would rather die! That's what you were asking? What is wrong with you?"

"Sorry, sorry!" Tim barks out a laugh, and Peter huffs with frustration. "It's just- Batman has a cat burglar named Catwoman, and they're actually a couple. Ish. It's complicated. Just wanted to see how similar you two might be."

"Don't put your heteronormative shit on me. Guys and girls can be just friends. And don't compare me to Batman. My hyphenated name makes me ten times cooler and more sophisticated, thank you very much."

"You're right, you're right." Tim concedes, hands up in surrender. It appeases the little brat well enough. "I just had to ask, for the reality correlation of it all. So Black Cat, she's your friend, but also a rival?"

"Yeah, pretty much. I just find it hard to want to stop her, sometimes, 'cause I hate the people she steals from. Like art smugglers, and stuff like that. She also likes stealing from plain-old-rich folks and even though I stop her, I sort of think they wouldn't freak out over a vase getting stolen. They have plenty left to share. Though she did get me caught up in a scheme once and I was wanted for art theft for a couple months before it got cleared up. Was annoying at the time but now it's kinda funny."

"You've been wanted for art theft?" Tim asks, and Peter shrugs. "Huh. Me too."

"Really?" Peter leans forward. "What'd you steal?"

"There was a… misunderstanding, in a foreign country, about a year ago." Is all Tim has to say about that, at the moment.

"Oh, well, you know how misunderstandings go." Peter sighs dramatically.

"What about other heroes your age?" Tim can't help but think about the other hero possibilities. "What are they like?"

"What do you mean? It's just me."

Tim pauses to mull that over. "It's… just you?"

"There are no other heroes my age. At least, not yet." Peter says it like it's fine, but his tiny frown shows that it does sort of bother him. "Black Cat is the only other powered person I've met that's my age. I guess that's another reason why I don't want to stop her and give her up to the cops."

Tim thinks about the period of his life where it was just him and Batman. Dick had taken the effort to come around, but for the most part, Tim was the only kid around at that time. Dick was an adult, after all, by that point, and Bruce was too. Besides that, Bruce and Dick couldn't be in the same room very long without screaming at each other. It's another reason why Tim never wanted to stay over at the Manor.

(There were a lot of reasons for that.)

Meeting the Young Justice had felt liberating. Cassie, Bart, Kon… They changed his life for the better. He was around Peter's age when he met them, too. He can't imagine hitting puberty and having no friends who were heroes to talk to about it.

"That must get pretty lonely." Tim comments.

"Sometimes. But Ned makes it better."

"Who's Ned?" Hold on, Tim thought that he just said…

"He's my best friend! He's not a hero or a vigilante, but he'd make a great one, in my opinion. I met him at school, and we just clicked right away. He's one of the coolest people I know, so I didn't think he'd be my friend, but he is! I'd never really had a friend before Ned, so it's really great to have him. He knows all about Spider-Man, and he's kind of my guy-in-the-chair, when he can get away with it. His Lola is pretty strict and I wouldn't want him to get in trouble staying up too late. But we break the rules a lot so he can talk to me while I'm patrolling."

Peter could not sound more fond right now, like he's all warm and gooey on the inside. He's got the same dopey grin that Dick gets when he talks about Wally.

"Ssssssoooo…." Tim is not equipped to handle that, so he's not gonna. "This is your first time patrolling with more than Black Cat?"

"Pretty much! Tony does it sometimes, but he prefers being in his lab."

"I remember my first time patrolling with B and Nightwing." Tim tells him, glancing at the GPS.

Looks like Damian is talking to Batman, and that's why he's taking so long. Are Bruce and Jason done in Crime Alley?

"What was it like?"

"It was exhilarating. I'd trained for so long before going out, y'know? And even before then…" Tim remembers the feeling of flying for the first time and how all the hard work paid off. "Wing always made it a point to go get food or to play games while we were out. He's a great teacher too, I learned so much from him. I couldn't get over how I was learning from the original Robin. It was like a dream come true."

Peter hesitates, shifting where he sits like he couldn't tell if he wanted to run or stay. Tim briefly worries that he fucked up by mentioning Dick, but Peter asks, "What… was he like? When- When he was Robin?"

Huh. That's certainly not what he expected Peter to ask… But that's kind of sweet, isn't it? Actually, more than sweet. He's so nervous, like he thinks Tim is gonna shut him down, but hopeful that he won't.

Wanting to know about Dick is progress, isn't it? Peter told them he was so young when his parents died that he didn't remember them, to the point where it was hard to recall their faces. That didn't just mean that they didn't get to know Peter, but that he never got to know them. He likely has only ever heard about this alternate version of Dick from other people that got to know him. And now he's come face to face with a version he might know nothing about, and he's back to square one. His dad is a stranger again.

Well, it's a good thing he asked Tim. He's been watching Batman and Robin for a long, long time.

"He was abrasive." Is Tim's first words, which is probably a weird place to start. But Tim doesn't want to tell Peter about Dick's life story, that's for the two of them to talk about. What Tim can do is talk about his perspective on him. "He just lost his parents when he became Robin. He was all jaded edges and fire, an anger that didn't really ever go away. Grief does funny things to people. Like make them dress up at Bats and Birds."

Peter's laugh is breathy, like an afterthought.

"But the more comfortable he got with B, the more he opened up into… Some kind of light. Batman was the night, and Robin was the big, bright hope that Gotham needed. He grew into something you couldn't look away from even if you tried. He was all stupid puns and quips, and he was also a hard headed kid, so people underestimated him. But he was able to keep up with Batman, and actual super powered people. He's the kind of guy that people look to in a crisis to have an answer. He's most reliable of us because when he loves someone, he loves them so deeply to the point of his soul belonging to them."

And there he goes, from Robin to Nightwing without really thinking about it. Peter is thoughtfully quiet, his legs have stopped swinging.

"He's much more patient than he used to be." Tim adds, bumping his shoulder on Peter's. That earns Tim the smallest of grins. "You know, actually, he's come a long way. One time when he was Robin, I watched him get fed up with Condiment King and try to shove his condiment gun up the guy's nose, only to fire mustard up his own nose. He had to sit out the rest of the fight cause he kept sneezing yellow."

"No fucking way." Peter scoffs. "There's no way this ridiculous city has a villain named Condiment King and his shtick involves mustard."

"Not just mustard. There's also ketchup and mayo. Honey mustard, sometimes, or ranch, if he's feeling fancy."

"You're lying to my face right now!" Peter swears, smacking Tim's shoulder.

"I'm not! He's a real guy! Just ask anyone else!"

"Fine, I'll ask them right now!" Peter turns on his comms, Tim following suit just in time to hear Babs fussing about something Hood did. "Oracle, Double-R is trying to make me think there's a real villain named Condiment King."

"He's lying to you." She replies with absolute zero hesitation. Tim almost stumbles with the betrayal.

"I knew it!"

"Wh- I'm not! When we get back to the Cave, I'll show you!" Tim reels in the shock, because he really wasn't making it up, and with the amount of times Babs had fought the man, he thought she at least wouldn't put Tim on the chopping block like this.

"Yeah, okay, I believe you. Condiment King is about as real as Antman."

Tim narrows his eyes at the little twerp. "…You said he was real when I asked you."

"I dunno, Copyright," Peter sticks his feet to the side of the building with a cat-like smirk. "Is he real?"

"Spidey-"

"Red, we need to hurry up and place the other Jumping Radars. Stop messing with Spider-Man."

"But I'm not!" Tim protests as Peter jumps off the side of the building. "He's messing with me!"

NOV 6th

Dick is not getting enough sleep.

One would think that with him taking off of work, Dick would have more time to sleep. But trying to sleep comes with not being able to shut his brain or his heart off, and Dick can't have any of that. So he finds himself yet again filling the should-be-sleeping hours with work.

It's at least a good chance to get caught up with the case files he'd been procrastinating for the JL. Bruce had been subtly (not) hinting that he should get that done before someone else has to do it and Dick gets a big stink about it. He flicks through a few of them now while sitting at the Batcomputer, signing off on non-emergent missions and updating the files that had been cleared already. His eyelids feel about as heavy as his heart, but he can't bring himself to close them.

Because every time he does, he sees how haunted Peter looked when he saw the poster.

Now that had been Dick's stupidest move yet- not having the conversation before entering a room with his parents and their names on a big paper. Peter had clearly been aware of that much about them, and he's not stupid, so of course he'd see it. But Dick had gotten caught up in his head about…

Well, that dinner.

When Bruce took him in, he refused to change his name. He hadn't even let Bruce formally adopt him until he was an actual, legal adult. He had always been Bruce's ward, and had always clung to his parents that he watched fall and leave him. Like if he was holding onto them now, the rest of them wouldn't slip away too.

Having the 'Grayson' in his name meant a lot of things. It meant a connection back to Haley's Circus, with all of his friends and family, that he had to leave behind. It meant that he was still there in some way, was still their kid even though they were all so, so far away from each other. Dick was in that big, quiet Manor, and the people he cared about and had known his entire life were on the other side of the country or the world. He would look at the poster on his wall with his parents on the paper, one of the only photos he ever had of them, and he'd pretend he was still sleeping in their RV, tangled up between his parents after a long day of practice or performing.

(Feeling safe. Loved. Home.)

He hadn't ever imagined a world where he would have done it differently. But then again, he never imagined a world where he hadn't had Bruce there to field his name out of the headlines, to keep him from getting harassed about his parents' deaths every day. Sure, he imagined a world where his parents were alive. But in the ones that they weren't (the reality), he couldn't picture anyone but Bruce being there that day.

Dick had been the circus kid that Bruce 'took pity on' in the eyes of high society. He was the golden child to the citizens of Gotham. He was the 'Boy Wonder' to the hero community. But no matter what, Bruce made sure that his name wasn't brought up in papers. Clark and Lois do the same for all of them now. They could say anything they wanted behind closed doors, but if they tried talking about it in the news, life wasn't going to go well after that.

"Richard Parker" was Peter's father, not Richard Grayson. This was a version of him that had an entirely different path to take when his parents died. Had their deaths even been murder? Or was it really just a freak accident? Had he been meant to lose his parents no matter what? Were these Parkers supposed to take him in if Bruce hadn't?

It was all too much and not enough information at the same time. And because he freaked out, he made a mistake, and now he can't stop seeing how hurt Peter had looked.

"I'm tired."

Dick drags a hand down his face with a groan, leaning back in his chair and trying to get past the way his chest twists with pain. It's like a hot iron is being pressed to his heart. Those two words had sounded so quiet but so desperate, and Dick hadn't had it in him to make Peter sit through that conversation.

And that's because it wasn't a conversation they needed to have immediately. Dick could wait it out, could be patient for this. Peter needs his space, but it's starting to feel more like Peter wants to ignore his existence and be done with that, with Dick, forever.

If that's really what Peter wants to do, is Dick capable of pushing him on it? Of forcing his way into Peter's attention? How serious is the moral dilemma of telling Peter that he wants to know him, wants him to stay in their world? Dick doesn't have a problem keeping his kid from an alternate universe (not even a little bit), but would Peter think of Dick as a cheap copy to his real father? An imitation? Even if he didn't, wouldn't it be cruel to get closer to him, because Peter is going to have to go home, back to where his Dad is dead? Is Dick hurting Peter by being near him-?

"Is this a bad time?"

Dick startles up in his chair, twisting around to spot the kid himself.

Peter looks like he wasn't getting enough sleep either. His hair his stuck up all around like he'd had a fight with his pillow, his long sleeve shirt twisted around his torso to prove that he lost that fight. His red-rimmed eyes are drooping, half caught in his sleep, and his brows are furrowed.

Had he been crying? No- not a question. Peter's eyes and cheeks are rubbed raw, he had definitely been crying. It looks like he just jumped out of bed and came down here without caring about changing or washing his face. He's holding three notebooks in his hand, one foot placed behind him like he's ready to run.

"Hey, bud," Dick didn't do it on purpose, but his voice comes out gentle, and he hopes the way Peter is frowning doesn't mean he thinks Dick is patronizing him. Desperate for damage control, he gestures to the computer halfheartedly. "No, not a bad time. I couldn't sleep so I figured I'd work on some League stuff, but I hate paperwork."

Peter's grip on the notebooks tightens a little bit, but he doesn't run away, like every other time that they've been in the same room for the past few days.

"You do a lot of paperwork for someone who hates it." He comments.

"All part of the job." Dick tries for a grin.

Peter raises a brow, and like a miracle, he must decide that Dick's existence isn't a reason to run away. He pulls out one of the other chairs and sits down next to Dick, though a little far apart, and sets his notebooks down. "I've never had to do paperwork. I don't think Tony has, either."

"Well, Tony can apparently afford other people to do his paperwork for him." Dick only thinks twice on that comment after it's out of his mouth- Peter has a history of defense on Tony's part that doesn't work well with Dick in the conversation- but Peter grins. An actual, real grin that's aimed in his direction.

Small wins!

"I meant for hero stuff. Pepper gets him on the Stark Industries stuff."

"Pepper is your foster mom, right?"

"Mm… technically." Peter shrugs, opening his first notebook and pulling up one of Bruce's files on one screen. DIMENSIONAL TRAVEL. "She and Tony aren't legally married, but she lives with us and she's pretty much my foster mom. She just doesn't have any legal rights over me."

"Does she have a sister named Salt or is that a nickname?"

Dick is trying to keep his eyes on his own work, because he's not Bruce and he doesn't hover over his kids' shoulders just to see what they're doing, but his eyes had already caught on to what was on the screen and he finds that he's trying to read in his peripheral vision despite his better judgment.

It's mostly just files compiled on all the known variants of dimensional travel and those who could go in between. Magic users, for the most part, but the reason it wasn't a viable theory was because, well, shit goes astronomically wrong when dimensional travel is used. The Antimatter universe could cause explosions, looking at Hell could bring someone into irreparable madness… "Dimensional" travel had always been more about timelines or pocket dimensions, not a completely alternate universe, like where Peter is from. There may not be magic users in their world that could go between dimensions like that.

Or if there are, they are not on the heroes' side. Or, it comes with a price- like Fate's Helm.

Theoretically, Wally or Barry could do it, but they wouldn't be able to bring Peter along with them.

Peter hasn't read the computer yet, he just grins at Dick's stupid joke. "It's a nickname Tony gave her. She sprayed him with pepper spray when they first met."

"Well, that's not concerning at all." Dick leans back again in his chair, trying to feign nonchalance, but feeling like he's failing. One would think with the amount of times that Dick had gone undercover, he'd be good at that, but apparently fucking not.

He glances down at Peter's notebook paper. There's not a blank spot on the page. His scribbled handwriting has the entire thing covered in even the small margins and around the punch hole with sequences that are familiar because Bruce and Tim had been working through the same equations on the Batcomputer. These are the ones that that Loki character had been working on with Peter.

The ones that are to help Peter get home.

There are three notebooks in front of him, two already full from front to back.

Something twists in Dick's chest again, and he has to scold himself mentally. Obviously Peter has been working on this. He wants to get back home. He deserves to go home.

"Have you tried running the sequences?" He asks, because no ugly part of Dick is going to rear it's head and keep Peter from getting back to his family. (His family, not Dick's, because Dick might be his father but Peter doesn't want-) Cut that thought off.

Peter could run through the sequences in the simulator to see what works, basing his work off of Ohnn's. He's the only one who's gotten close enough to that bastard to see the tech up close, and he sort of has an idea on how it works, but not really. From what Peter's mentioned to them, before meeting Ohnn, dimensional travel through science and not magic was still theoretical. People are still using particle accelerators to try, not small devices put on their wrist.

"Sort of." Peter shrugs, scrolling through the file. "But I'm kind of putting it off. I was hoping to try literally anything other than that."

"How come?" Isn't the way he came the easiest way to go? Rather than searching for ways back through other means, other people, who might take longer to get him home, wouldn't it make more sense to take the same way back that he got through? It's already connected to Peter's world.

Peter holds one of his arms almost like he's holding himself, eyes not leaving the computer. Like he can tell what Dick is thinking, he says, "The other way hurts."

His breath catches in his throat. Peter brings his legs up to get even smaller in the chair, still scrolling through the file on the computer.

He had known perfectly well that Peter had shown up injured, that day at the library. Ohnn had tried to kill him, had beaten his face and strangled him. Peter itches at his neck as if recalling this as well, and Dick looks again at Peter's red, puffy eyes, the dark circles under them. He hadn't considered that the method that Ohnn was using would hurt-

But hadn't Peter hinted at it? 'Ohnn's method isn't pretty either.'

He has to stuff down the roaring, almost murderous anger that rises up. He'll have to let that sit and stew in a deep, dark part of his soul, and save it for when he meets Ohnn face to face for the first (and last, because like hell he'll let him get away) time. Instead, he takes a silent, deep breath, contemplating what to say next.

"Are you okay?"

He hadn't known what else to ask. He could press about what it was like, he could push to know more about what happened, to know more about Ohnn. But Peter had brought down those notebooks after crying, and it had to be for the reason that it was on his mind. The most important question to ask is nothing less of how Peter is doing.

Peter looks at him, searching his face for who knows what. Try as he might, Dick can't seem to read the kid's mind. All he has is a vulnerable question in Peter's gaze that never reaches his lips.

He turns back to the computer. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just a nightmare."

He wants to reach over and brush Peter's hair back, try to comfort him the way his parents- or Bruce, his father, after all these years- used to comfort him. Tell him something to reassure him that it's all going to be okay, to be at his side as someone to rely on. But he recalls Peter finding excuses to leave the room he's in, and he sees the distance between them now, and he has to force himself back.

Small steps, one at a time. Dick can't push farther than this, he might really come to regret it.

"I turned into dust." Peter says quietly, voice wobbly and his eyes wet, but he blinks it back, refusing to cry. "Tony tried grabbed my hand, but it wasn't there anymore. And it hurt a lot. I don't wanna do it again if I can help it."

Dust.

Peter hadn't said anything about how traveling by Ohnn's method must be like, before now, except for that one off comment. They know the details of the teleportational jumps, but… dust? If that's the case, then this method is likely stripping their bodies apart by the molecule, pulling them out of existence that way.

He pictures Peter crumbling into ash in front of him, and it feels like he can't breathe. This time, he reaches out to Peter despite the distance. As if to make sure he's still there, still all together in one piece, and that he isn't going to disappear, lost and in a pain that Dick can't prevent.

He doesn't pull him into a hug- the kid tenses like he's scared of that. But he does place his hand on the back of Peter's neck, scooting his chair closer. Peter leans into his touch the smallest bit as if holding himself back. He doesn't look away from his work, but he's not actually reading anything on the notebooks or the screen either. When Dick runs his fingers through Peter's hair, the tension releases from his shoulders, and they settle into a quiet moment, just the two of them.

He's in one piece. He's not in any pain anymore. At least, physical pain. There's a lot to say about how much of a mental scar it left on Peter, if he's having nightmares about it. For now, Peter is okay, and he's not about to be gone, leaving nothing but ash behind. But it terrifies Dick to think there's going to be a moment in the future where he won't be okay. That Dick can't take away the unfairness in the world, can't save Peter from fate, from life and death.

Dick has seen horrors beyond the imagination. He sees the curse that has been placed on Gotham every time he goes out into the streets. He's seen people lose themselves and lose others, he's seen people lose their humanity, either willingly or while dragged kicking and screaming. He's witnessed the rise and fall of people desperate for love, for recognition, for sanity. He's seen people struggle with what it means to live and what it means to die. Inside of him will always be the kid that watched his parents' skulls crack open on the ground, and realize that he will never seen them in whole again.

The world has never terrified Dick more than in this moment.

After a few minutes where they say nothing, Peter's eyes droop a little more as if he's fighting to stay awake. Dick blinks back hot tears from his own eyes, feeling much more awake than he had before Peter arrived. Peter turns to say something, but he stops himself before he can.

That's when he jumps to his feet, something unreadable about his expression. No- It's almost like he's angry. Peter backs away from Dick and he has to let his hand fall.

"Night." Peter is all Peter manages, leaving the room like someone lit a fire at his heels. The door shuts behind him and Dick feels like the room is ten times bigger than it was a few minutes ago.

"Night, Peter." He tries, but he doesn't know if Peter can hear him behind the door or not.

He doesn't know what he did. Peter hadn't indicated that he wasn't wanting comfort, but when he looked at Dick's face, that's when he took off. Dick puts his head in his hands, trying to run back through what just happened. Should he have done that? He didn't think it'd make Peter so frustrated, but… He pushed too soon.

Dick drops his hands, gaze falling back to the computer and the notebooks. He can't help but feel this bottomless pit of disappointment and frustration with himself. How come when it matters the most, Dick fails to reach the people he cares about? He got angry with Bruce and left without talking about what really upset him, his relationship with Bruce and Jason suffered for it. He thought he was doing well with Tim but he had kept missing things. And even with Damian, Dick was terrified that he'd miss something or he'd push him away without meaning to, and it's like a small miracle that nothing has happened yet.

He doesn't know what to do this time. He doesn't know what step to take to meet Peter halfway.

Dust.

It hurt a lot.

Just a nightmare.

A nightmare about the pain of getting there, like some awful metaphor for how Peter is still in pain, just not a physical one. Peter dreaming about that at the same time they're talking about getting him home doesn't feel like a coincidence.

The JL cases on his own screen suddenly feel like they're in the way. He closes them out and instead drags what Peter was looking at onto his screen, grabbing a pen. He opens the last, unused notebook and gets to work, using Peter's other two notebooks as a reference.

Peter wants to go home, so Dick's feelings on that don't matter. He'll help figure out a way to get him there that won't hurt him.

NOV 7th

The air is sticky with the scent of incoming rain.

They had checked the forecast before they headed out tonight, and the weatherman had reported "Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow. You never know." Peter would pay real money to be able to pick that guy's brain, because he'd never seen someone so dead inside, like his life's work meant nothing in the end.

But that's just how it goes, in Gotham. Jason had said that yeah, that means it's going to rain tonight, and no, they're still going out. Unless it gets really bad, and in which case, they'll have to head back to the Manor and try this again tomorrow.

Peter doesn't know about that, though. As it starts to sprinkle overhead, the vibrant neon lights of the Crime Alley district makes it look like a watercolor page. The red light from the restaurant next door is his favorite, because through the windows of this apartment building, the rain drops have shadows that really up the atmosphere. It makes them look ten times spookier when one crook turns on his light to see Red Hood and Spider-Man in their living room.

It's not much of a living room, though. When the other realizes what they're looking at, he screeches and grabs a lamp to throw at them, and it's one of the only things in the empty room. It's a shitty place to lie low and keep supplies, so they weren't focused on decorating it.

Peter watches the lamp make it, like, two feet before clattering to the ground.

It's a pitiful excuse for a distraction and a getaway. The second crook snatches his gun out of his belt with a curse, but before he can even think about pulling the trigger, Peter has his hand webbed to the wall and the gun is dropped to the (sadly, a little sticky) floor.

Jason was leaning against the wall right next to them, so Lamp-Thrower gets even less distance away than the lamp got before Jason has him by his collar and is throwing him on the ground.

"Sorry to drop by unannounced." Peter steps on his arm to keep him from getting up, and kicks a shard of the broken lamp away from the guy's face. "But this is kind of important. We'll be out of your hair in no time."

"Fuck you!" The criminal tries to get up, only to find that Peter is much stronger than he looks. His arm doesn't budge at all. "What the hell? You some kind of freak?"

"I don't think drug dealers get to call other people names."

"What the hell do you two want?" He snarls up at Red Hood. Honestly, a little impressive that he has that in him, considering he's pale and sweaty, eyes wide like he expects Red Hood to pounce any second and gut him.

"We got somethin' to talk about." Jason's voice is low, covered by the voice modulator in his helmet. He crouches in front of the crook, elbows on his knees. The posture is a mock relax, and it's all in an effort for the crook to see Hood's guns within his reaching distance. "You tell us what we need to hear, and maybe we'll be nice enough to continue on our way."

Peter thinks it's cool how fast he can switch like that. Just a few minutes ago, Jason was scolding him about his favorite pizza toppings. Right now, he actually looks like the crime lord that would make a guy want to go into witness protection.

The man swallows down his nerves, but he still is scared shitless. The other man that's webbed to the wall is trying to pull his hand out of it, but is realizing that it's a futile effort, and has pushed himself as far out of Hood's sight as he can get.

"…Fine. I'm not stupid. What do wanna know?"

There's a lot that they want to know, actually. But there's only so much that this guy will be able to tell them.

Peter is getting to tag along on Jason's Fear Gas case, and it's a far cry from what Peter is used to doing. He's not really a detective, like the Bats are, though he's starting to think maybe he should be. He's done his fair share of going around asking questions, but that was mostly as Parker, and he usually he gets dragged into the mess, rather than him having to find it.

This is fun. It's different from patrol and different from getting pulled into shit, and to top it all off, he gets to hang out with Jason!

So far what they've gathered, before now, is that Fear Gas shipments are going missing. "Fear Gas" or "Fear Toxin" is a chemical substance that a guy named Jonathan Crane, or Scarecrow, made in order to induce an involuntary fear response in people. It can give people auditory and visual hallucinations, paranoia, anger. It's real nasty shit that's meant to drive people insane, and it needs an antidote in order to escape that fate. When Batman, Robin, and Red Robin were staking out the Iceberg Lounge while looking for Ohnn, they overheard that shipments of Fear Gas are going missing, and they passed it off to Jason.

That's for a few reasons, but mostly it's because the people involved are set up in Crime Alley, which is Hood's territory.

It's not just one or two shipments that were taken, there's been five shipments of six crates. They get sent out using Crane's name, but he's still in Arkham (thank god, because that guy sounds awful), so they were able to rule him out. It's not uncommon for others to use Fear Gas or knockoffs for their own shit. A lot of scumbags use the toxin with a paralyzing agent as a means to kidnap people, especially around Crime Alley.

There are two groups involved: the Dubelz family and the Khadym Mob. Both of which have had problems in Crime Alley in the past, and should be listening to Hood like they promised they would.

Safe to say that Jason is not happy about this development.

Hood and Batman went looking through the Dubelz family's recent movements the night before last, when Peter was beating Damian at placing the Jumping Radars around Gotham. (He won, Damian is a liar.) The Dubelz have been starting shit with the Khadym Mob by going around in their territory to sell drugs. The Khadyms are drug smugglers, and Fear Toxin is often among their products to sell off to villains looking to concoct their latest scheme, and they were not pleased to hear that the Dubelz were starting shit, even before they started losing shipments.

The Khadyms were the ones who started the fight at the Lounge. They accused the Dubelz family of stealing the shipments and trying to sell their product- in their eyes, the Dubelz were leading up to this the whole time. Problem is, the Khadyms have no evidence that the Dubelz family is involved in the theft, just that they're overstepping territories. And that's because the products never make it to the warehouse.

They're always stolen on the water, and an empty boat will arrive. No Fear Gas, no crew. No bodies have turned up either. From what Peter can figure, that's because whoever is doing it is throwing their bodies overboard into the Gotham bay.

The Gotham bay is just as cursed as Gotham, and maybe ten times more nasty. Those bodies are probably dissolved by now.

What they want to know is Who, What, Where, When, and Why.

Who would steal Fear Gas, if not the Dubelz? What do they want with the Fear Gas, and why aren't they just buying it? But the guy that they're questioning at the moment only has the answer to two: Where, and When.

There's another shipment coming in tonight. The Khadyms played smart, though, by sending out five different possible locations for the shipment coming in, and spreading their people out over the city to make each location look real. There's only a handful of people that know which one is the real deal.

One of them is under Peter's foot.

"Where's the shipment coming in, Badr?"

"Ask me anything but that." Badr tries to scoot back, eyeing Jason's guns. "I can tell you all about those working girls that went missing last week- did you know there's a serial killer hanging out around there? I just found out yesterday."

"Already looking at that. Answer my questions or we're gonna stop playing nice."

"Come on, man, we don't want to get you in trouble." Peter attempts. Jason shakes his head, but Peter thinks the Good Cop Bad Cop Good Cop routine works for a good reason.

"I know, I know," Badr sighs like this wasn't an interrogation. His friend is trying to sink to his knees on the ground to reach a lamp shard. "You're doing your jobs. But I'm doing mine, too! Boss'll kill me if I let this get out. We can't afford to lose anymore product. The Dubelz schmucks aren't gonna get one over on us again."

"But we're asking so nicely. We won't tell anyone it was you." Peter has half of his attention on that, and is more focused on what the other guy is trying.

"I think it'll be fairly obvious that it was me."

The other manages to grab the lamp shard. He reaches up like it's a knife, and is absolutely shocked when instead of cutting through the webs, it just sticks to it. Interestingly, he tries to get another lamp sharp. It goes about the same way.

hello! friend! look it look it

Peter almost lets his foot up out of shock. The window to the apartment opens, Jason's gun out of it's holster in a split second and aimed right at Nightwing's head as he's halfway inside. Peter's about to web the gun away but he freezes with panic.

Peter, I love you. It's not your fault. His hands were too small-

Jason recognizes Nightwing when he puts his hands up in surrender, all smiles like he had no doubt Jason wouldn't shoot him.

"Is this how we're welcoming people to the party?" He closes the window and crosses the room. "Tried contacting you, but looks like you're busy."

"Yeah, we are busy, so why're you bothering us?" Jason grunts, standing up as well.

"Oracle figured out the warehouse, so these guys are pointless now."

"Aw man." Peter lets go of the guy's arm, but before he can get up, he webs him by his chest to lay on the floor. His first real interrogation and it gets cut short. Just his luck. Jason holsters his gun again. Badr sighs with relief, looking up at Spider-Man as the two adults talk.

"You're new."

"I am." Peter commends his observation sills.

"Feels like Batman is running through sidekicks faster and faster nowadays." Badr comments.

"I am not his sidekick."

"Ok, whatever, sure looks like it. Fine, are you Hood's sidekick?"

"I'm not a sidekick at all."

Badr raises a disbelieving brow, giving him a once over. "Come off it, Spiderboy, they don't let stupid teenagers as young as you run around without supervision."

"That's enough outta you." Peter takes a glob of web and puts it over the drug dealer's mouth. "And it's Spider-Man. Get it right next time. And you know, choose a better life. I'm sure if you asked for help, we could get you outta this business, get you somewhere else entirely. You got a family? I'm seeing a beach house with your name on it, somewhere sunny and with no drugs at all."

"Spidey, stop messing with him and let's get going." Hood calls out. Peter jumps to his feet, leaving Badr to grumble after him uselessly. Nightwing is already out on the fire escape and Hood is halfway out the window.

"So where are we going?" Peter asks, trailing after them. He had been asking Nightwing, but-

He's gone already. He's pretty much down the street by the time Peter is out on the fire escape with Hood.

Jason is looking between them both (at least, until Nightwing is out of sight, and then he's looking at just Peter.), and based on the tense dislike? not happy his spider-sense hisses at him, Jason has very much noticed the interaction.

"Cherry Hills, Dock 10. Wing and Double-R are going to check out the boat as it gets closer to the harbor. Follow me."

He kicks off into the street with his own grappling hook, Peter not far behind. He thinks he remembers reading Cherry Hills on a bus stop map before, it's on the other side of the island, but it's not far from Crime Alley where they're at right now.

Since there's a silence on the comms and they're swinging, Peter is left to his thoughts. Even as he does the math in his head to get the perfect swings, he fails to silence his mind or the insecurities that are threatening to swallow him whole.

…Dick has been doing that, ever since Peter ran out on their conversation the other night/morning. (Technically, it was morning, but the fact that no one else had woken up yet, even Alfred, meant that it was still nighttime.) And by that, he means doing exactly what Peter had been doing this whole time: running away when Peter is nearby, avoiding being in the same room if he can help it.

Except he's bad at it. Because Peter can tell that the only reason he enters rooms in the first place is to check on Peter, like he's making sure Peter hadn't disappeared, and then leaving when he sees that Peter is fine. So he's not actually avoiding Peter, he's trying to give him even more space than he already had been. And it eats away at Peter bit by bit, like his own actions had been doing before this.

Peter would be a massive hypocrite if he said that it hurt his feelings. He's been much less kind about the way he avoids Dick, like Dick has the plague or something.

But it's just that…

When Peter looks at Dick, he sees a stranger. And that is terrifying.

All his life, he had just guessed what could and couldn't be his parents' features on him. He had no idea what they might look like because their pictures were left in a storage unit that no longer exists. Ben and May always planned to put them back up when Peter would stop crying when he saw the photos, but it never got to happen.

Their faces were blurred, or just not in the picture, when he thought back on them.

And now, he looks at Dick and the guilt of not being able to recognize his own father's face hits him like a freight train.

When he was really, really little, the TV used to have static. This was before Stark Industries had moved on from weapon manufacturing to creating for the every day person. The TV had a basic remote and it was a huge box, and it had the VCR player that Peter liked so much. Peter liked being able to lift his hand to the screen and feel the static as it hummed under his palm. The light flickered in his eyes and the noise was comforting, like hearing a waterfall.

Right after seeing the Flying Graysons poster, Peter felt like static, and suddenly that feeling wasn't as comforting anymore.

From that moment until now, Peter has been switching between channels like someone else has the remote. One second he's all static and nothing, nothing, nothing and it feels like he's being buried under it. The next, he's getting a startling clarity to his surroundings, and everything feels too much, too much, too much. Because everyone is looking at him expectantly, like he should be screaming and crying or bursting with anger. They look at Peter like they can't figure out why he's not doing that.

And that's too much to process.

He doesn't know why he's not doing that either. When he's not feeling the nothing, Peter is feeling a scary amount of emotions that he's never had before. And each time he tries to talk to Dick or look at him, the static forms around the edges of his vision and he doesn't want to face the nothing.

It's childish, but he doesn't know how to snap out of it. He'd rather be feeling the emotions, trying to label them so he can have some type of clarity. But when he tries to actually think about it, Peter feels 'nothing.' It's infuriating, and that's why when Peter had caught Dick sitting at the Batcomputer and had felt relief that he was there, the wind was knocked out of him.

It was the first time he'd felt something when looking at Dick for the past few days. It's why he got stupid and talked about that nightmare-

All Peter could hold onto was ash and everything hurt hurt hurt like he'd be split apart and never come back again-

-and allowed himself the comfort. And then he looked up and it hit him all over again, yanked back the progress he just made, and that's why he had to get out of there. Before Dick could see that his stupid kid from another dimension apparently doesn't grieve or remember him like a good kid is supposed to do.

Like Dick does.

Dick seems to feel everything about his parents and their deaths. That's why he got all freaked out about what Peter said at dinner. He's a good guy, a good brother, a good son, a good dad to Damian, but even he would feel ashamed of Peter if he knew. So Peter is trying not to let him know.

Peter is a rotten child. He didn't deserve Ben and May like he didn't deserve his parents, and he certainly didn't deserve Karen and her family, or Tony-

Peter almost slips while running a wall. He catches himself just before Jason can turn around to make sure he's keeping up, and it's like it never happened.

"Get a grip, Spider-Man." He scolds himself under his breath.

Cherry Hills smells like the harbor before they even get there. It's more of a residential area, if residential can be boiled down to houses for the people that work at the docks. But the farther that they go into it, the more and more warehouses and shipping containers they see. The buildings get smaller and smaller until they're left hopping over roofs instead of swinging. Peter spots Nightwing and Red Robin in a flash of well hidden color, but they're gone as soon as he sees them, headed towards the harbor.

watching

They land on top of a warehouse at Dock 10. There's a skylight that looks down at the area below, but the entire room is casted into dark. Peter feels eyes land on him, but they aren't from someone that he knows.

The dock is silent, save for the rain sprinkling down and the water washing below. A dingy boat knocks against the side of the wooden dock, over and over. Knock. Knock. Knock. The low buzz of his spider sense is warning him that the silence is-

wrong look it hear no

"Hood." Peter hisses, all the hair on his body standing up.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"There's only one heartbeat." Peter warns him.

"What do mean, only one? That can't be right, each of the warehouses have multiple people guarding them." Jason runs a hand along the side of his helmet. He looks down inside the building, stalking the ledge of the side of the skylight, tense and ready to run or fight. "Damnit. There's bodies inside. We might be too late."

watching wrong bad get it out get it AWAY get it out

Peter is crouched low, tense and ready to run as he tries to find the eyes on him. Someone is trying to stalk them, he can feel it, can hear a single heartbeat around. His spider sense hates them, is pissed that they're around. It's not a danger warning, it's almost like his spider-sense wants them gone, wants to chase them away, that they shouldn't be around him.

But he doesn't see anyone. Even in the low light and the rain making visibility harder, there should be a movement, a sign that they're nearby. He tries to pinpoint their heartbeat, and all he comes up with is that they're moving around, watching him, because they see him.

"Hey, shitheads, we got bodies." Jason is telling them on the comms. "The warehouse is full of them. Had to use thermal imaging, there's no light inside."

"They were alive minutes ago," Babs cusses under her breath. "They literally just sent out a call to their boss that I intercepted. Whoever killed them is-"

"Still here." Peter whispers. Jason catches it.

"You said you only hear one?"

"I don't like them." Peter stands up, feeling vaguely pissed off by their presence. The spider-sense agrees with him, that whoever is watching him is bad ugly get it away chase it get it out.

"That's not what I asked, oddly enough." Jason stands up as well.

"Spidey, you alright? What's going on over there?" Dick's voice joins them on the comms. "The boat is headed your way. There's people on board. Looks like whoever is responsible isn't on the boat."

"That's cause they're over here." Peter says. He's interrupted by the long, horrid screeching of metal.

It reverberates through the warehouse, echoing back at itself like a chorus of screams. Metal on metal, a teeth grinding noise like a fork scraping a plate, nails on a chalkboard- whatever hell that it's called, it's awful enough that Jason and Peter both rear back to get away from it. The warehouse shakes underneath them as whoever is making the noise drags it across the wall. When it stops, there's a second where the echoes die out, casting them back into the quiet of the bay and the knocking of the dingy boat.

GET BACK!

A huge metal rod breaks through the skylight glass.

The glass and metal fly into the air like a geyser, and it all comes crashing back down on top of them. Peter rolls to get away from it, grabbing Jason on the way by this jacket. The metal rod clangs sharply as it hits the ground below them.

"Hood, Spider, come in! What was that?"

"We got company!" Jason bites back, gun in hand.

"You got a name yet?"

"No, fuck off, it literally just happened. Keep an eye on the boat, we got this."

Peter knocks open the other half of the skylight with a swift kick. The glass pane breaks way and mixes in with the rain on the warehouse floor. Peter jumps down first, avoiding one of the bodies and their blood on the ground.

get it out get it away get away get away

"What an unpleasant greeting," Peter calls out to the dark. Jason hooks his grappling hook and meets Peter down on the floor.

There's about twenty men down. Some of their skulls are cracked open, others are pointed like they had ended up shooting each other in the enclosed space. Peter gets to the middle of the warehouse when he spots the silver thread of spider silk on one of the corpses, who had been reaching for a phone.

On his hand, there's a sticky note.

A GIFT FOR SPIDER-MAN :)

-BLACK SPIDER

"You like it?" A new voice calls out from the banisters. "I just had to have something to give you when I figured out we'd be meeting, finally."

get it away get it away kill it crush it kill it-

Peter's never had his spider-sense so volatile before. Every nerve in his body is telling him to chase the threat away, to make sure it doesn't come back. Peter's gut churns with sick, backing away from the sticky note and the corpse.

wrong it's wrong it's bad get it away

"Who the hell are you?"

"Can't you read, Spidey? My name's on the sticky note. Cool idea, by the way. Hope you don't mind that I used it. Thought I'd have a little fun while I was back in Gotham. I missed this place, while I was training. It's good to be home, as rotten as it is."

"Spider-Man, where's that heartbeat coming from?" Hood stands behind him, his back facing Peter's. "Keep your head straight, don't let him get under your skin."

"But imagine my surprise-"

"He's in the banisters."

"-when I get back, and I find that someone has my whole persona, and is apparently on Batman's side. Not to mention, he's barely a teenager."

"Why don't you come down here and we can talk about whatever grievances you seem to have?" Peter tries to push down the instinct that has his fingers twitching. get it away get it out-

"Oh, no, I'm good. I have the whole scary monologue down to a science." Black Spider replies. His voice carries over, making it harder to tell where he is, but Peter thinks he can see the outline of a man standing above him.

The rain patters down on the roof. Lightning flashes overhead, giving Peter a glimpse of the man- the other spider- that his instincts tell him to destroy.

Black Spider is a grown man around Jason's height, though slimmer. He wears a purple and black suit, a spider web design on his neck and shoulders. He has red, Almost-Spider-Man eyes looking down at him, and a spider-symbol on his forehead. He's studying Spider-Man just as intently, like maybe he hears the hiss of his own spider-sense telling him to kill Peter.

Only, this man is capable and willing to kill. Peter is not.

"See, I hide in the shadows to look down at you, like the little arachnid that you are, showing you exactly what I'm capable of with all the bodies littered around. I open up with telling you that Gotham is where I come from, and that I'm back…"

A distant explosion sounds off. It's not that far away, since the air pushes past and rattles the warehouse. The sound mixes in with the thunder, the rain growing thicker, the wind beginning to howl and whip around. The storm is rolling in over Gotham.

"Then I tell you that my coworkers have your buddies preoccupied." Black Spider has a breathy laugh. "And this is the part where I warn you, kid, that if you don't leave right now, I'm gonna cave your skull in."