Should have just Surrendered (Peter/Tim Version) - Anonymous (2024)

Chapter 1: This is it.

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It was a loud sound that caught everyone’s attention in the quiet atmosphere.

Even where Peter stood slumped against a rock on the planet Titan, he could hear it. It didn’t echo around him; the sound was similar to the bullet being shot out of a gun before it started to quietly sizzle out to nothing.

Peter looked around; his heart thudding so loud in his chest that he thought the people around him could hear it. His blood pulsed and his hands shook

“Something’s happening.” Mantis barely got out the words, her feet staggering against the red sand below her, her antennas glowed a soft blue.

A small, drawn out chime sounded around them, vibrating through the ground before Mantis suddenly started flaking away, being carried by a non-existent wind.

She had turned to dust.

Peter couldn’t tell what everyone was feeling, he was focused on the small buzzing that rested deep in his stomach, his Spider-sense going into overdrive.

He looked up and saw the distraught face of Drax, the once, headstrong and heroic Kylosian, built with raw strength and power now looked so broken as he stared at his hands that were disappearing right in front of him. “Quill?” He quietly spoke, voice shattering.

Quill said nothing to reassure his comrade in his final moments, barely focused on the present himself. As Drax slowly turned to dust Peter had the horrible realisation that Drax died having no idea how, or why. He asked Quill, full of trust for an answer that he never got, his voice now forever lost in the past. He died confused.

Peter felt his heart crack.

His enhanced hearing heard the sound of Quill’s shallow breaths. “Steady, Quill.” Mr Stark said firmly. Concern was written all over Mr Stark’s face, yet Mr Stark had always been one to put others before him no matter how selfish and oblivious he made himself appear as. Mr Stark tried to hide his feelings behind a façade, an attempt to keep Quill’s thoughts anchored to the situation. “Oh man.” Quill sighed in defeat looking up towards the stars. The glowing balls of fire are the last things he sees before darkness overtakes him, turning Quill to dust.

Peter watched his mentor, his father figure, his hero, look around the battlefield in the realisation that he had been vanquished.

“Tony,” The quiet voice of Doctor Strange felt suffocating in the silence. “There was no other way.” He rasped; voice unwavering.

There was no other way

There was no other way

There was no other way

Peter stared in shock and despair at Doctor Strange. He felt lied to, betrayed. Why give him hope when the outcome would always be the fact that they would lose in the end.

That’s when it hit Peter for the first time.

Heroes never lose.

Every book he ever read, every fairy tale he ever heard, every movie he ever watched… The hero never lost.

Yet, this time they did.

Because in reality, not everything goes to plan.

In reality, happy endings aren’t guaranteed,

In reality, heroes lose…

And this is reality, his reality.

He felt a numbness slowly creep up his spine, vertebrae by vertebrae. A small scratching sensation in his throat. He swallowed trying to remove the sensation.

Doctor Strange’s icy blue eyes bore into Peters honey brown ones. He sighed deeply before nodding at Peter. “Goodluck Kid, I’ll see you on the other side.” With that Doctor Strange gazed lifelessly as he focused on something beyond what anyone else could see.

Peter felt his insides twist, his ears buzzed and his thoughts spiralled. “Mr Stark?”

Peter felt the moment Mr Stark’s full attention landed on him. He could see the moment that the small spark of hope in Mr Stark’s eyes flickered out into nothing but a dull Brown. He could see the moment that Mr Stark suddenly understood that he had just lost his everything.

The boy he considered his son was about to lose his life in such a terrible way and at such a young age, yet there was nothing he could do.

“I don’t feel so good.” He barely uttered. He held in a gag as nausea pooled in his gut. His suit suddenly felt as if it was slowly strangling him, trying to compact with him still inside. An uncomfortable pressure built in his lungs. “You’re alright.” Mr Stark comforted.

“I don’t…I don’t know what’s happening.” Peter stumbled over his words in fear as he tried to coordinate his still legs into moving towards Mr Stark however, he tripped over his own feet in his haste and fell into the comforting arms of his hero.
Peter gripped desperately to Mr Stark, barely able to hold himself up in the panic. Mr Stark gripped back just as tight. “I don’t want to go, I don’t want to go.” He chanted over and over to his Mentor, a desperate plea for his hero to save him.

Peter didn’t want to die. He still had so much to do with his life. He still wanted to graduate from high school and go to college. Get married, have children. Travel the world. Follow Mr Stark’s footsteps.

He still had that promise to see that new movie with MJ and to build that new Lego Star wars set with Ned.

And Aunt May, God. What about Aunt May? She had already lost Uncle Ben, could she handle losing Peter too? He still had the family photos in the film of his camera that he planned to give Aunt May for on her birthday stashed in the back of his closet. And he still had to stitch up his ripped sweater he got for Christmas a couple years ago that Aunt May keeps insisting he grew out of. What about the cooking class he booked for them with his own money? Would Aunt May even survive? He was never going to have the consolation of knowing, was he…

He still had so much he wanted to do. He wasn’t ready yet. He wasn’t ready yet. He wasn’t ready to die.

Peter felt selfish. He was begging the person he considered his father for help in a situation he was always going to be helpless in. There was nothing Mr Stark could do yet he still pleaded for Mr Stark to save him. He was putting Mr Stark in an impossible situation.

He could see the heartbreak on his mentor’s face as Mr Stark tried to keep his composure to give Peter all the reassurance he could in Peter’s final moments. After all, that’s all he could do, yet Peter was still begging for more. Was begging for a hero that he knew Mr Stark couldn’t be.

Peter felt guilt rush over him in waves. He didn’t want his mentor that deserved the world to think he failed Peter.

As Peter felt that dust scratch his throat and slowly shut down his body, he pulled Mr Stark down with him towards a rock. Mr Stark cradled him.

This was it.

“I’m sorry.” Peter whispered, the words were small yet something special. It held a deep meaning behind them. These were his last words and only they would ever know what they were.

Peter didn’t know what exactly he was apologising for. Maybe for leaving Mr Stark alone? Maybe for leaving Aunt May, Ned and MJ? Maybe for not pulling the gauntlet that was melted onto Thanos’s skin hard enough.

Maybe for not realising sooner that he couldn’t be a hero. He felt stupid for ever believing he could.

He felt himself slowly turn to dust, his spider sense sent constant warning signs to his head, making his death painful and slow. Why couldn’t the world at least make it peaceful? He thought as he broke eye contact with his father figure and numbly looked up towards the stars in a daze. That was the last thing he saw before he too fell into the abyss of death and flaked away into dust.

Chapter 2: A Stranger in Red

Chapter Text

Peter felt as his conscious floated in a murky sea of water as black as ink. He wasn’t aware of his surrounding and couldn’t pinpoint any sensations he was feeling except for the feel of the water like liquid slowly caressing his naked skin. Wherever the water touched caused his skin to prickle until eventually it started to burn.

His skin felt as if it was being scraped of his body with a knife, chipping away at his body. Each peel of skin decayed into nothing around him before he was suddenly grabbed by his hair and pulled under the water by a heavy force.

Peter felt himself gasp underwater as it rapidly started to fill his lungs causing him to choke. His heart started thumping quicker than he could keep up with as he went lightheaded. A pain started forming in his chest at the inability to breathe. He swung his arms around him in distress, trying to grasp the surface of the water but it kept slipping through his fingers.

Peter suddenly jerked upright, his brown eyes snapping open. He felt his throat tighten when he looked down towards his body to check the damage.

He was still in the Iron Spider Suit. His body had turned to dust in this suit. He needed it off now.

Peter wanted to see his fingertips with his own eyes, he wanted to feel his skin, make sure it was still there.

“Karen!” Peter swallowed down a sob, the blunt metal of the gloves on his suit scraped and scratched at the centre of his suit in a frenzy as he desperately tried to get it off him.

The armour that was made to protect him felt like it was killing him.
“Karen!...Karen. Please” He moved his hands from his chest to his eye sockets, trying to tear through the lenses to have something to grasp. “Off! Get the suit off! Please!”

The suit swiftly started to disintegrate like sand from his body, yet it felt like it was taking a lifetime. Starting with his head and arms the armour slid off him into the small chip that had latched onto his back when he first fell from the Q-Ship back on Earth. The small chip turned into a Blood red watch with a gold rim and a black strap and clock. The numbers glowed a bright blue. The same colours as his Iron Spider Suit.

When Peter pulled his original spider suit gloves and face mask off, in a panic he dropped the watch to stare deeply at his hands. He rubbed his fingertips together and clasped them tightly before carefully pulling them apart. He then raised his hands to his cheeks and lightly felt along his face before a whimper finally fell from his lips. As he buried his hands into his face, he thought about what just happened.

No matter how much his thoughts circled and how agonisingly loud they were they always came back to one thing.

He died.

Peter wasn’t ready to face whatever was past his eyes yet. It meant confirming to himself that this wasn’t one sick dream that he just had to wake up from, but he knew he couldn’t just waste away on whatever surface he is currently sitting on, waiting for the poor soul to come across his hysterical self. So, with a deep breath he counted down slowly from five and when he finally hit one, he opened his eyes.

Peter felt the breath in his lungs be sucked out of him as he looked at the horizon in front of him. The tip of the sun looked like it was barely dusting the ground as it gradually sank down into the depths of the world. The buildings were tall and cramped together creating a skyline with an outline that glowed from the setting sun, the clouds above were crowded and stained a dark grey. It was obvious that this was the only time of the day when the sun could be seen, when it comes down below the clouds to change shifts with the moon.

Peter’s shoulders sagged as the tension left his body. The skyline was different, but the sunset was something he was familiar with. He let his arms rest on his knees while he gazed at the ball of fire, making his skin radiant. He knew he should move, look around for a place to hide, find information, do anything productive other then just sit here and stare but this was the only thing he had come across in days that was something he considered normal. For a second he felt like he was at home but when his eyes drifted along the skyline again, he had the sinking knowledge that he wasn’t.

With that Peter picked himself up and dusted himself of. He would have to ‘borrow’ some clothes from someone’s washing line. He wasn’t one to steal but he considered this a special occasion and on special occasions there are always exceptions.

His eyes swept the roof and landed on the watch that currently held his Spider suit.

Peter scratched his temple with a deep sigh before picking up the watch.

“Karen?” He asked the watch hoping that his AI friend was still here. She had to be considering she had helped him get the suit off. However, a voice in the back of his mind whispered about the voice commands and protocols.

'Suit off' He had said. That was a voice command.

He had gotten the suit off on his own, but he didn’t want to admit it to himself because if he did that meant he also had to admit to the possibility that Karen was gone.

“Karen? Please answer me.” No answer.

“Karen are you there? Can you not talk? Can you make the watch flash or something? Please?”

Peter held in his tears while his mouth pulled into a distraught frown making his lower lip wobble slightly. “Please don’t leave me Karen. How can I help you? What do I do?” He quietly sobbed to the watch before shaking it in a surge of anger, the leather bands flapped randomly. “What do you need me to do! What do you need! Karen please! Don’t leave me alone!”

Peter’s voice shook as the sun finally set in front of him, leaving him in darkness. The only light was the glowing numbers of the watch. He almost fell to his knees again, instead locking them to keep him up.

“Why?” Peter asked the watch in his hand. No, he asked Karen.

Was Karen broken? Did she not survive the trip over here? Was she mad at him? Abandoning him?

Was she ignoring him because he failed her? Peter didn’t know but if Karen wasn’t in the watch, he wanted nothing to do with it.

He wanted nothing to do with Spider-man. He failed everyone and destroyed everything when the world needed him most. Thanos’s power was the test, the snap was the results and his death was the wakeup call he needed to prove he couldn’t be a hero.

“I’m sorry Karen.” He apologised to the watch before throwing it into the city as far as his strength could, watching it get smaller in the distance before going further then he could see.

He wasn’t worried about someone being able to use the suit as it was voice activated unless Karen or Mr Stark overran the code, but they weren’t here.

Peter abandoned his gloves and mask on the roof while he headed down the fire escape. It was old and rusty, would probably be creaking if he didn’t have the power to be as light on his feet as he was. On the way down he came across an old, crinkled blue shirt and black jeans that hung over a part of the fire escape that obviously connected to a small apartment. Peter realised they were put there to dry when he picked them up and felt that they were still slightly damp, but Peter couldn’t complain. He mumbled a small apology under his breath before jumping the rest of the way down towards the ground of the alley.

As Peter changed out of his suit and into the clothes, he constantly continued to look at his skin to make sure it was still there, taking double glances and brushing his fingers over his skin more than necessary while changing. He didn’t know why; he could see that his skin was still there, but he couldn’t get the feeling of dust and ash of his body.

When he pulled the jeans up Peter instantly flinched with a quiet gasp. The jeans were a size too small causing them to chafe around his thighs…It felt like the skin of his thighs was slowly being scraped of like it did when he was turning to dust. Peter took a steady breath.

He was okay.

He rolled his suit around his hand before throwing it in a garbage bin to his left. Walking barefoot he headed out towards the mouth of the alley, the rocks and grime left sharp stabs of pain against the bottom of his feet. Peter knew he needed to find shoes or at least something to protect his feet.

As he walked to the mouth of the alley, he could feel his spider sense go from a low buzz to a spike of intensity, someone was following him.

Peter rarely got into altercations outside of his Spider suit so he wasn’t so sure what he should do. He could feel the eyes of multiple people burning into the back of his skull, maybe three? Or four?

Not many for Spider-man but a lot for Peter Parker.

His eyes flickered around him looking for a way out. He could hear the footsteps of the strangers speed up significantly as he got closer to the open area of the alley.

Peter was about to run when another two men came out from the front of the alleyway, cornering him in. Peter froze.

It hadn’t even been an hour and he was already in a dangerous situation. His spider sense sent shocks down his spine and up to his brain as his adrenaline started to kick in.

“Look, what we have here? Not from ‘round here, are ya kiddo.” A man around his early thirties mocked, spitting at Peter’s feet causing Peter to grimace. “Aw, why that face? Not pretty enough ‘round these parts? Not like mommy and daddy’s nice neighbourhood?” The man grinned, showing his rotten teeth from what Peter presumes is decades of smoking due to the cigarette currently hanging between the man’s fingers.

“I don’t mean any trouble, please just let me go.” Peter eyed the man in front of him wearily before a small glint of light to his left shined and caught his attention.

Peter ducked as the knife was swiped across where his neck would have been, the owner of the blade pulled the weapon back towards him when he realised, he missed Peter.

“Look at that,” The man with the weapon spoke, his nose looked as if it had been broken and never reset multiple times, it caused his breathing to be loud and sniffy. “We have an acrobat on our hands, thinks he’s so clever.” A few members of the group laughed.

“I don’t have anything to give you.” Peter said as he raised his hands to show he means no harm.

His Spider sense lit up as the man behind him reached out to grab his shirt, however Peter ducked again and moved to the right towards the wall but as he did his barefoot stepped on a shard of glass causing him to let out a shout before a heavy weight slammed his head into the bricks of the alleyway wall.

“We don’t want any of your sh*t, that’s just a bonus.” He felt someone’s hot breath on the side of his face, it smelt like alcohol. “We just wanna hurt ya a bit, rough you up. Give ya a real welcom’ to Gotham.”

Peter frowned; he was in a place called Gotham. Geography may not have been his most favourite subject but that doesn’t mean he knew that Gotham wasn’t real.

The man realising that Peter’s attention was elsewhere slammed his head against the wall again, harshly grazing his cheek into the ragged bricks. Peter could feel a small amount of blood running down from his eyebrow, making his eyes sting.

Peter gritted his teeth “You’re sick” He muttered.

The man behind him laughed to his small gang. “Hear that fellas? Thinks we’re sick. Kid, everyone in Gotham is a lil’ sick in the head.”

Someone else spoke up, a woman. “If only we could chuck him in a cell with tha’ Joker. That would show him the good stuff.”

He felt the man tug his hair again “That would give the clown a laugh, wouldn’t it?”

Peter suddenly felt his spider sense go into overdrive, something dangerous was watching them. He saw something small and black fly in the corner of his eye before the man holding him to the wall shrieked in pain.

Peter used this opportunity to clutch the hands holding his head to the wall and twist around under, making the arms holding him dislodge. He brought his barefoot up and kicked the man in the chest as the person from above jumped down and started attacking the group.

The mysterious person whirled around as a kick came at him, dodging before spinning with a raised foot and kicking the thug in the side of the face, as the thug stumbled back the stranger grabbed their hair and brought their knee up towards the thug face. Peter winced when he heard a crack. The stranger kicked the man away before rolling and throwing a weird shape blade at the woman. Peter saw that the blade had wing shapes from where it stuck out from the woman’s shoulder.

“It’s one of the stupid bats!”

Peter watched as the person dubbed one of the ‘bats’ continued to fight. He looked to be around Peter’s age. He had a long sleeve red and black tunic with black tights, gloves, boots and cape. His utility belts were also black, rimmed with gold and he hand a black harness across his chest with a gold symbol in the middle. It looked to be a bird of some sort.

Peter watched amazed as the stranger flew in the air, landing on the thug that swung the blade at Peter. The thug crashed under the stranger’s weight, one of the stranger’s feet landing on the thug’s throat causing the thug to gasp painfully.

The stranger continued to fight; his style harsh yet graceful. The stranger moved elegantly, slithering around the thugs like a serpent. Too quick to keep up with and able to change decisions mid move.

Peter could see the stranger’s thoughts ticking constantly with different outcomes. Every strike carefully thought out. Completely focused.

Eventually the only thug left was the one that had smashed Peter’s head into the wall. Peter watched anxiously as the stranger swerved away from a sloppy punch by the thug before he bolted forwards and grabbed the thug’s neck, spinning to smash his head against the opposite wall…Just like the thug did to Peter. It was hard enough for the thug to instantly black out and go limp.

Peter instantly knew that this man was not someone to be taken lightly.

The stranger looked towards him. “Are you alright?”

Peter could tell that the stranger was a male teen, he was right when he guessed around his age. The voice was smooth and slightly deep. The man had black locks just brushing his shoulders, the front strands clipped back to the top of his head with a pin. He was half a head shorter than Peter, with pale skin and cupid shaped lips. “I’m fine thanks for the help.” Peter shrugged with a strained smile before walking past the stranger. “Hey, wait!” The teen called out to Peter, “You’re hurt.”

Peter bit his lip as he turned back to the teenager, “I’m sorry, who are you exactly?”

The teen jerked back in surprise before he licked his cracked lips. “I’m Red Robin, a vigilante in Gotham.” Red Robin nodded towards Peter, he had his hands where Peter could constantly see them and carefully stepped closer towards Peter. “What about you? What’s your name?”

Peter sighed deeply, he wasn’t sure what to do and it was obvious his hesitance showed on his face when Red Robin swiftly changed the topic. “Okay, I saw them smash your head against the wall pretty hard so I’m going to check for a concussion, is that okay with you?” Peter faltered, he looked towards the street outside the alley before back at the vigilante.

Peter felt it was only fair to give the vigilante the peace of mind that he was alright before he left. “Alright,” Peter muttered, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Okay, I’m going to shine a light in your eyes to check your pupils and I’ll also ask some questions, nothing personal. Is that okay?”

“Yep.”

Red Robin pulled a small penlight out from his belt. “What date is it?”

Peter thought back to the field trip that Aunt May scribbled on the calendar in red marker. “April 23rd 2018.”

Peter saw Red Robin bite the inside of his cheek before moving along.

“Where are you right now?” The vigilante asked as he shone the light in his left pupil before moving to the right. Peter saw the eyes around his mask widen briefly before straightening back out into a neutral expression.

Peter thought back the what the man had said to him'Welcom’ to Gotham'
“In Gotham.”

“Good,” Red robin said, “What district of Gotham?”

Peter sucked his teeth, “Uh…the Alley way district?”

He saw Red Robin’s mouth twitch in amusem*nt as he put the penlight in his pocket “I guess you could say that, I’ll give you a bonus point.” Red Robin smirked as he looked at the Alley around them. Peter felt the tension in his neck lessen at the vigilante’s easy-going nature.

“So, your pupils seem fine, but your answers were…a little off.” Red Robin muttered to himself. “It’s July 14th, 2014 and you are currently in The Bowery.”

“Oh.” Peter mumbled with a very slow bob of the head. That was not good in Peter’s books. At first he was sure that this was a different dimension but now he was thinking it could also be time travel, Peter knew nothing about either of those.

“May I have a quick look at your injury?”

Peter titled his head to give the vigilante a clear view of the wound. He saw Red Robin purposefully lift his hands towards Peter’s face at a slow pace, giving Peter the chance to back away again, he didn’t. Peter felt Red Robin lightly take the side of his head in his hand to look at the wound on his forehead that went to the end of his eyebrow from the brick wall.

“Are you in any pain?” The vigilante mumbled as he ran his finger around the edge of the cut to clear any dirt and move away his hair.

“Not really.”

The vigilante hummed, “I still think it would be best to get you to a doctor or hospital too ha-“

“No!” Peter snapped, tugging his head out of vigilante’s grip, “No hospitals, I’m fine. I can stitch it up.”

Red Robin raised his hands in a way to show his compliance, “Ok, no hospitals, that’s fine.” He took a step forwards but froze when Peter took a step back. “I know a woman, her name is Leslie, she has a clinic around here.”

Peter stared as the vigilante took his silence to continue. “She won’t ask anything about you, just let me take you to her and she can clean your wound and check for any more head injuries and other wounds we missed.”

“I thought you said I didn’t have a concussion?” Peter knew what a concussion felt like and he was aware he didn’t have one, but he wasn’t going to say that and raise more alarm to the situation.

“I said your pupils were fine, but your answers were not.”

Peter took a deep breath. “Leslie’s clinic also gets donations; you could maybe have some food?” Red Robin gestured to his bare feet. “Or some shoes?” Peter thought for a second, he needed shoes and he wasn’t sure how long he was going to go without food in this situation.

“Okay, but only to the clinic, nowhere else.”

Red Robin held his hand out with a smile, Peter grasped it.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Chapter 3: Doctor's orders

Chapter Text

Peter had never been more confused yet humoured as he watched Red Robin continuously walk around his bike.

“Ok, here is what I’m thinking.” Red Robin said, his hand gesturing wildly in front of him. “I don’t think you have a concussion considering you are walking and talking just fine-“

“Uh…thankyou?”

“But just in case you do I don’t think it’s a good idea to ride my motorcycle.” Red Robin muttered mostly to himself, putting his hand on the handlebars.

Peter didn’t know much about motorcycles, but he could tell this was custom made. It totally didn’t have anything to do with the big gold and black bird looking symbol plastered on the side, but Peter would admit it looked straight out of an action film.

It was a dark grey with a matte finish. The symbol on the side had a glossy varnish, making it lustre in the streetlights. The seat was black and mostly flat with a slight lift at the back. Peter couldn’t see the engine but based on Red Robin’s job he had a feeling it was one that could go above and beyond the legal speed limit.

It was obvious that the Motorcycle was well taken care of.

“We could just walk?” Peter suggested, rocking on his heels, however the man shook his head in disagreement.

“I don’t want you to be walking around with the chance of a concussion, especially in Gotham.” The vigilante swiped a small strand of loose hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear. “Do you think you can fly?” Peter scrunched his eyebrows in confusion before he saw the hero take out a grapple gun from his back pocket.

“Yep, I uh…I’m down to fly with the grapple thing.” Peter smiled. Pointing awkwardly at the grapple gun.

This was probably the worst way to get to the clinic with Peter’s ‘possibility’ of a concussion and Peter was pretty sure Red Robin quietly agreed but Peter didn’t mind. It would be like a final goodbye to Spider-man. A last swing, of course Peter would prefer to have his last swing in his hometown, but he would take what he could get.

Red Robin had a mischievous grin, as if they were planning a crime to steal the last cookie from the cookie jar. He could tell that Red Robin thought Peter’s excitement was because he was about to give him the experience of a lifetime and he was, just not in the way the vigilante was thinking. It wasn’t going to be his first time in the air, it was going to be his last.

And Peter would be damned if he wasn’t going to make the most of it.

“If you feel sick or dizzy at any time let me know, I really don’t want to wash puke out of my cape again.” Red Robin said as he walked towards Peter.

“I’m going to put my hand around your waist, and I want you to put your hands around my neck, unless you prefer the fireman carry.” The vigilante teased. “Also, if you think you can’t hold on anymore then tell me instead of screaming while already halfway falling to the ground.”

Peter snorted “That happen often?” He teased.

The vigilante sighed in mock disappointment, “More then I prefer to admit, honestly starting to think I should change my harness from holding equipment to being able to hold people.” He joked, raising his hand to pull the harness against his chest.

Peter shrugged. “Might be worth the investment.”

“Better then bringing liability waivers for people to sign every patrol, do you know how awkward it is to stop the paramedics while they are loading up their patient to ask the patient to sign the papers? The dirty looks I get.”

Peter threw his head back with a laugh, the thought of the vigilante making someone sign liability waivers as they are wheeled into the ambulance just felt funny.

“Ever had anyone reject signing one?” Peter asked.

Red Robin tilted his head with a smirk. “Most of the time yeah, that’s why I’m so good at forging signatures.”

Peter raised an eyebrow, wiping a bit of blood that had dripped into his eye. “Isn’t that illegal?”

“I’m a vigilante.” Red Robin shrugged “Everything I do is illegal.” He walked towards Peter, “Also I saw that.” He gestured towards Peter’s forehead where the wound was still dripping lightly. “Let’s get to the clinic then we can talk business about your liability waiver, I’m sure Leslie has a spare pen somewhere.” He said.

Peter nodded, putting his hands around the vigilante’s neck. He heard Red Robin ask for permission to put his hand around Peter. When Peter gave him the approval he was looking for with the nod of a head, the vigilante put his arm around Peter’s lower back, securing him in place.

“Ready?” The vigilante asked as he looked upwards, trying to find the best location to aim his grapple with their combined weight. Peter grinned. “Please, I was born ready.”

The man nodded before shooting his grapple. Peter felt his stomach feel weightless as they were lifted into the air. He could feel the wind blowing through his hair. The gust of wind was deafening in the best way, the wire of the grapple being pulled back into the gun made a whiz sound that got higher pitch the closer they got to the top of the building, as if it was tightening.

Peter was beaming so wide his cheeks were starting to hurt. It was slightly different to Spider-man considering the fact that Red Robin had to stop between buildings to shoot a new grapple but other than that Peter was enjoying it.

It was comforting to be in the air again, whenever Peter wasn’t fighting crime, saving cats out of trees and performing backflips to random people on the street with their phones out, screaming ‘DO A FLIP’ He was swinging.

It was relaxing, being able to feel the cool breeze through his suit, the slight strain in his arms, the random room lit up in a building, whether an office or an apartment, it didn’t matter.

Sometimes he would have jelly donut stains on his gloves, or the mustard sauce on his sleeve from the free hotdogs that Andy gave him once a week. The usually roaring blare of traffic sounded like a quiet radio station with engines going or a random honk of a horn here and there. The lit-up streets, the random greenery from a tree or bush, the bus stops littering the city.

He loved it all, and he was giving it up because it was for the best.

Peter felt that the emotion he was feeling was the new bittersweet.

As he laughed Red Robin grinned beside him, arm tightening around his back every time they would descend from a roof, giving random cheers here and there.

As Peter looked down, he saw how much different it was from Queens, the ground wasn’t as bright, streetlights few and far in between compared to Queens, rubbish littered the floor and few people were walking around even though the traffic was still packed, yet it was still beautiful.

While looking down at Queens was similar to looking at the sun, looking down at Gotham was similar to looking at the moon. It was as if Gotham was aglow, like a white swan on a dark lake, the only light from the moon that shimmered in the cold air. It caused delighted pin pricks up his arms. Seeing Gotham like this was incredibly alluring, addicting even.

As they finally lowered towards the pavement in front of a small building, snuggly shoved between two others, even though Peter was smiling he felt a slight disappointment simmer at the bottom of his gut. He would never fly again.

Red Robin had a massive grin on his face, showing all his teeth. “You didn’t puke so your chances of a concussion are lowering by the minute, thank you for that by the way.”

“No problem, wouldn’t want to give you the pleasure of enjoying an evening of soap and cleaning gloves.” Peter shrugged. “Well, it was nice meeting you.”

Red Robin smirked. “You think I’m letting you go in alone? In your dreams.”

Peter rolled his eyes. As Red Robin strutted past him confidently before suddenly turning towards Peter. “You coming?”

“Yep.” Peter smiled, before walking after Red Robin, slight limp in his step from the wound on his foot.

Red Robin froze, gaze burning into his leg “What’s wrong?” He asked concerned, watching Peter limp.

“Small cut on my foot. Nothing to be dramatic about.” Peter gestured towards his foot dismissively.

Red Robin hesitantly nodded, “Ok, but I would prefer to carry you.”

“Seems our preferences do not align.”

Red Robin sighed with a smile behind him before following Peter into the clinic.

The clinic was busy.

People of all different ages filled the clinic, blue waiting chairs were pressed against the walls of the clinic, most of the chairs taken. Some people stood, leaning against walls. Kids took an interest in the colouring books in the corner while parents sat nearby, one mother continuously making sure her child didn’t eat an orange crayon.

“Red Robin!” One of the kids from the colouring corner beamed at the vigilante, leaving her colouring book she got up and headed towards Red Robin.

“Missy,” He smiled at the girl. She looked to be about six or seven, her blonde hair was in two plats and she had one of her front teeth missing. Her skin was a sun kissed brown. Missy wore a baby pink shirt with stained overalls and dirty, white shoes. One of the shoes lit up, the other didn’t. Obviously broken. The fact she didn’t even flinch or question the grotesque sight of the cut on Peter’s face made him feel uncomfortable and upset.

Red Robin pointed to his mouth “I see your tooth finally came out.”

Missy beamed at both Peter and Red Robin, “Mhm!” She hummed, pointing at her tooth. “The tooth fairy left me a note! It said she didn’t have any spare change for my tooth, but she did have a lollipop! She also said not to tell anyone because lollies are bad for your teeth, but she was giving an exception because I take such good care of mine!” Missy suddenly gasped, her face turning to horror. “I wasn’t meant to tell you that! You can’t tell anybody. Both of you!” Missy held out her pinkie, Red Robin intertwined hers with his own.

“I promise we won’t tell anyone. Right?” Red Robin looked at Peter with a grin, the vigilante was clearly finding the whole ideal both sweet and hilarious at the same time. Peter smiled back at Red Robin before turning his full attention to Missy. “I promise no one will hear anything from me.”

Missy looked satisfied. “Mommy is back with Miss Leslie; they are putting the machine and goo on her tummy.” She nodded to herself. “She’s having an…” Missy paused, her eyebrows scrunching. “Ul..ultta..sound..”

Red Robin grinned at her. “Ultrasound?”

“Yes!” She jumped in excitement, “She’s having that! She’s getting really fat now.”

Peter choked while Red Robin looked at Missy baffled. “Missy,” Red Robin crouched to her level. “You can’t say that.” Even though Red Robin was lightly scolding Missy you could hear his awkward breathing as he tried to keep in his laughter.

Missy nodded. “Sorry, I meant…bigger? More…chubby, no…wider around here.” She waved her hand in a circular motion on her stomach.

Red Robin raised his eyebrows before sighing in defeat, “That works, I guess.”

Missy nodded. “Yep! Miss Leslie said the baby should be healthy since mommy is sticking to her plan! She hasn’t had any white powder stuff. I think she is getting better.”

Red Robin smiled at her fondly, “I’m so glad to hear that Missy. Do you know how long they have been gone?” Missy nodded with a smile. “They left at 7.4pm” She said proudly as she pointed to the clock.

Red Robin put a hand on his chin as he looked at the clock. “Okay Missy, can you tell me how you got that answer?”

“The small hand was on the seven and the big hand was on the number four and it’s night.”

Oh. Peter thought. She meant 7:20pm, they had been in there for about half an hour. Red Robin nodded coming to the same conclusion. “Very close Missy, but remember how when it comes to a clock you count by fives?”

Before Red Robin could even explain, Missy’s attention was already on counting. As Peter watched the little girl count in amusem*nt around the number 40-mark, two woman came bustling out from a room in the back.

“Mommy!” Missy barrelled towards the woman with blonde hair up in a bun and glasses pushed up on her nose, she had the same sun kissed skin as Missy. “Missy, did you behave?” Missy bobbed her head while continuously talking about everything that was happening a million miles an hour, her mother nodded along. Eventually the woman smiled, “Ok, go say bye to Red and your new friend, okay?” Missy barrelled back over to them, waving.

“I’ll see you guys later, okay? And remember our secret about the tooth fairy.” Both boys nodded at Missy, letting her know they were aware.

“Sorry Red, hope she wasn’t too much trouble.” The woman smiled gratefully at Red Robin, nodding to Peter in a brief greeting. “No problem Annie, the little tyke keeps me on my toes.” The woman laughed before walking out the clinic, a yapping Missy in tow.

The other woman came up to Red Robin and Peter, she had short grey hair and a white cloak. Her skin was pale and wrinkly, she sighed at the sight of Red Robin, rolling her eyes as the vigilante grinned back with all his teeth. “Doctor Leslie! Long-time no see!”

“Yes.” She muttered, glancing down at Red Robin’s ankle with distain. “Not long enough.”

Peter could tell there was a hidden message in their conversation but decided it was none of his business, especially when the vigilante shrunk back slightly with a grimace. “It felt long enough.”

“You came by and saw me a little over four days ago, you were meant to wait two weeks.” Peter could feel the annoyance wafting of the lady. It felt like he was watching as Red Robin broke a hidden law. Aunt May used to be similar like that.

Peter bit his lip at the thought of Aunt May, looking away at the lights shining on the roof, blinking back tears. He could cry when no one else was around.

“Well…” Red Robin started, putting his shoulders back in false confidence. “We are here for this fella.” Red Robin, silently desperate to get the spotlight of himself shoved Peter forward and hid behind him. “Uh, hi.” Peter awkwardly stated, as he fiddled with his hands.

The woman was immediately in action. Peter was rushed into the back. His head wound taking priority. Red Robin followed behind them before Doctor Leslie turned around and shooed him away. All Peter heard was Red Robin yelling that he would wait for them before the doors closed on his face. The old woman sat Peter on a freshly sterilised medical bed.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Leslie and I’m the owner of this clinic, everything is confidential and anything you don’t wish to tell me is alright. May I have your name?”

Peter wasn’t chuffed about giving his name, but this was a Doctor putting her time and effort in to help him. She didn’t need to do that. “Uh, Peter.”

Leslie grabbed a clipboard. “Nice to meet you Peter, do I have your consent to treat your wounds?” She asked grabbing a pen. “Yep.” Peter smiled.

“Ok, I’m going to get started so I’ll let you know what I’m doing before I do it, you can stop me at any time and can refuse treatment.” Peter agreed, the terms were quite normal.

“I’m going to check for a concussion.” Peter nodded as they went through the same process as he did with Red Robin, except it was longer. He was asked about symptoms, circ*mstances of those symptoms, lights were shone in his eyes, follow the finger, walk in a line. It went on and on. Eventually it was finished there was only one question Peter had lied about.

“Any past head injuries?” Peter scratched his head as he thought about all the times a thug has smashed his head into a wall or punched and kicked him in the face. He also thought about that one time in the shower where he slipped or when he tripped down the stairs or when he fell asleep in Mr Starks lab and slammed his head into the table causing a broken nose.

So much for his useless spider sense.

“Nope,” He muttered, “Don’t think so.” He saw that based from her lips in a firm line and the exaggerated scribble on her clipboard Doctor Leslie immediately knew he was lying however, just like Red Robin said she didn’t push the subject.

“No concussion, so I’ll just clean your wound and your foot then we will check for anymore injuries.”

Peter shook his head. “I think those are the only two.”

Doctor Leslie raised her brow but again didn’t say anything. “Alright,” She put the clipboard down before washing her hands and putting on gloves. “I’m going to clean and check the wound.”

Peter nodded, turning his head so that the light on the roof showed it clearly, Doctor Leslie went in and started cleaning the wound. The slight sting from the wipe as it cleaned in and out of his cut stung, however he didn’t outwardly react, only biting his cheek. Doctor Leslie focused on the wound between her fingers, checking the depth.

“Seems shallow so it won’t need any stitches, I’ll just apply some medical tape and it should be good.” Peter felt the stickiness of the tape on his skin as she stuck the three bits of medical tape on Peter’s head.

He listened to Doctor Leslie’s instructions, she walked him through the healing process, cleaning, different stages and all while also cleaning the wound located in his foot. She had to use tweezers to get small pieces of glass that reflected in the blood like crystals. Every time she did, Peter felt his spine straighten, tensing up just a little more until he was wound up so tight, he felt ready to burst. Eventually to his relief she was done and wrapping the wound.

“If you take proper care of them, neither will scar.” She said with a firm wave of her finger. Peter felt like this lady meant business, as if he would be put in front of a judge if he broke her word. Peter agreed. “Ok, thank you so much.”

Peter watched intently as she threw the gloves in the bin, he didn’t feel comfortable leaving his DNA here, but it wasn’t like he could take the whole rubbish bag with him. With a deep breath he follow Doctor Leslie out of the room into the hallway.

Doctor Leslie finally smiled. “Come back if you get any of the symptoms I mentioned, head back to the waiting room and I’ll be with you shortly, also get some shoes boy. Red will show you where the box is.” Peter nodded and headed back out to the waiting room where Red Robin was sitting, colouring a picture of himself as he chatted with the other children.

“Egotistical much?” Peter grunted in amusem*nt as he gestured towards the colouring book. Red Robin shrugged, “What can I say? I have the best action scenes in here.”

Peter rolled his eyes while the vigilante waved goodbye to all the kids. “So,” He smiled as he walked up to Peter. “How did it go with old Leslie?”

A light whack with a few folded sheets of paper was his answer. “Call me old again and you will be next on the medical bed.” Red Robin laughed at Doctor Leslie’s teasing remark.

She handed the papers to Peter, “Here is all the information we discussed back in the room.”

“Ok, thank you so much.” Peter responded delightfully while Doctor Leslie nodded. “Anytime my dear, but please don’t make a habit out of seeing me like this one here.” She smiled as she pointed her thumb at Red Robin who was pretending to not listen to the conversation.

“Red, show this boy the donations.” She ordered the vigilante before heading towards another client.

The vigilante dragged Peter towards a box on the side of the wall, filled with different pieces of clothing, toys, sealed toiletries and much more. Next to it was a box of canned food. Red Robin handed to cans of tomato soup towards Peter before gesturing towards the box. “You will find any essentials in there so feel free to take a anything you need.”

Peter smiled before grabbing a pair of shoes and checking the size. It was one size too big, but Peter didn’t care, he also grabbed a toothbrush and some sealed peppermint toothpaste.

Red Robin watched as Peter pulled back from the box. “You sure that’s all you want?” He asked.

Peter just nodded to the vigilante before grabbing one of the small paper bags provided to the side. “Yep, no need to be greedy. There are others who need this stuff more” Red Robin shrugged, “Not possible to be greedy about something you don’t have.” Peter glanced at him. “Who said I don’t have this stuff already?”

Red Robin tilted his head, backtracking. “Nothing wrong with not having some stuff, I just wanted to make sure you were set.” Peter let a small smile grace his lips. “Thank you, Red Robin, but I’m good. Now I have to go but thank you for helping me.” He held out his hand that the vigilante took. “No problem, I’m glad I could help!”

As they walked towards the entrance Red Robin stopped Peter, “Do you have anywhere to stay? I know some shelters around here, they are very trusted.”

Peter grinned, “Thanks, but I’m good. I’m staying with a family friend.”

Red Robin pursed his lips, hesitating before speaking. “Want me to drop you off?” Peter sternly shook his head, a smile to sugary sweet fell on his face. “Remember the plan, you said you would only take me here.”

The vigilante leaned back, putting his hands behind his back, a nervous gesture. “Right, okay well…If you need anything, the Gotham Public Library is open every day from 8am to 6pm. It has brochures, computers…books.”

Peter grinned back. Swiftly turning on his heel, “Will do.”

Peter doubted that he was going to head to the library, especially because Red Robin mentioned it but he would see how desperate he gets, after all, his priority if finding out where the hell he is.

With that Peter walked down the street, listening to the undeniable sound of a grappling gun being shot behind him into the darkness.

Chapter 4: A Dive into the Cold

Chapter Text

Nightwing sat on the ledge of the rooftop, swinging his legs back and forward as he took a bite into his Bat burger. He felt like he was betraying himself by getting the Bat Burger instead of the Night-Wings, but the last time he got them a random thief commented about the fact he smelt like BBQ sauce when he was being restrained.

It’s been almost 2 years and he has never lived it down.

So now Nightwing was forced to eat the Bat burger, that still written letter about introducing a Night-Burg-Wing still in his bedside table. The name had come to him on the same night as the BBQ sauce comment, though the mortification and humiliation as he laid in his bed that night. It really affected him more than it should have.

As he finally took the last bite of the Bat Burger, wrapping up the rubbish he went to lick his fingers on habit before stopping at seeing his black and blue striped gloves. Instead he wiped them awkwardly on the rubbish.

His comm suddenly beeped in his ear. “Oracle here, the Satellite has picked up an unusual power surge in The Bowery.”

Nightwing paused mid-way through scrunching up the wrapper.

Batman’s deep voice immediately butted into the conversation, cutting Oracle off. “Where about in The Bowery?”

He was hoping the rest of them couldn’t hear the quiet crinkle of the wrapper as he continued scrunching it into a tight ball. Spotting a garbage bin across the street he closed an eye, took aim and threw.

The wrapper flew in the air.

“8 Linky Drive, The apartment building. However, I can’t tell whether it is inside or outside. Whatever it is has interacted with all cameras within a 30-mile radius. All I’m seeing is static.”

Nightwing sighed in disappointment, throwing his head back as he watched the wrapper hit the wall beside the bin. He quickly glanced around the street before relaxing at the lack of people, he was lucky no one saw that failure of a throw.

Grabbing his grapple, he took aim for the ledge across the street and shot. He sung down towards the bin, the smell made him scrunch his nose. Picking up the small ball of rubbish with more irritation then necessary he threw it in the bin.

“There was an attack with Riddler a couple days ago in the same area, could that have something to do with it?” Robin queried, sharing his thoughts to the group.

Nightwing could tell that Oracle was biting her lip, carefully thinking over the question before coming to a decision. It was something she has always done since he had met her.

“Negative,” Oracle confirmed, “Riddler doesn’t have the resources for this type of power. He also hasn’t said a riddle hinting towards the situation. He doesn’t play his games like that.”

“I’m six minutes out from The Bowery, I can go check what’s happening.” Red spoke over the comm, Nightwing could already hear the movement of Redbird. The engine a quiet vroom in his ear.

“Fall back Red Robin, we don’t know what we are dealing with.” Batman commanded.

Nightwing heard Spoiler pitch into the conversation. “I’ll follow him B! Make sure the idiot doesn’t get himself killed.” Nightwing could already feel Red Robin rolling his eyes over the comm.

Nightwing smiled. Spoiler and Red have a rollercoaster of a past, fights and disagreements swapping to jokes and laughs in a blink. On and off relationships and friendships. Spoiler’s fake death, Red brining back B from the time stream. It took them a long time to rekindle their friendship into the comfortable one they have today.

“I’m 18 B. By law I don’t need a babysitter.” Red mumbled as he turned a corner, his bike sounded so close to skidding on the road. “Unlike Robin-”He added as an afterthought, you could hear the grin in his words as Robin squawked.

It took a long time but their relationship has smoothed out, somewhat. They still had their moments where Tim ended up in the medical bed with a small stab wound but it was few and far in between. It was also with pens and such instead of knives.

Nightwing took the wins.

“Enough,” Batman ordered into the comms. “Red Robin do not enter the apartment until Spoiler is with you. You’re not even supposed to be out on the field with your ankle.”

“Aren’t you the one to tell me that it’s my body and I have the right to do what I want with it?” Red sassed.

Batman sighed in disappointment. “Say that again and I will sit you through the power point. You know when I showed you that slide that is not what I meant.”

Nightwing cringed in the middle of his sprint towards the ledge of another rooftop.

The sex-ed power point is something he will never recover from. The way he had to sit on the chair in the Batcave while B played the power point on the big screen was something he would never forget. Especially the moment where B brought the cucumber and condom out.

The redness on his face as Bruce taught him how to apply the condom properly, face completely serious is something that makes him want to crumple in embarrassment. For someone so awkward with feelings, Bruce had taken the situation like a meeting in the Justice League.

“Coitus is a very dangerous thing if you are not being careful. As your guardian it is my job to inform you about the safety. So put the condom on the cucumber.” He had said. Dick didn’t even know that ‘Coitus’ meant sex. Asking what the word meant was one of his top regrets to this day.

As Nightwing jumped of the ledge, tucking his knees in and flipping, he almost missed the landing with the next thing B said.

“With Agent A in the Batcave helping. I will also tell him about your lack of safety if you continue.”

Spoiler crackled over the comm while Red had gagged before swearing. Nightwing could hear the swivel of Redbirds wheels before Red got the bike back under control. “Ok, I’ll wait, just please don’t sit me through the power point with Agent A.” Red barely spluttered out, completely ignoring the fact about how he would be grounded from patrol if Alfred found out that Tim ignored orders.

The kid clearly had his priorities straight.

Oracle cut back in, the robotic voice changer making him jump slightly. “As lovely as that sounds, whatever has caused the power surge has moved over towards the middle of Morrison Harbour. I am unsure how, but my guess is through either the air or sewers.”
“Bloody Hell,” Nightwing muttered to himself. Knowing he was closest “I’m at Harborgate Towers.” He spoke, rolling his shoulders and neck before grappling down to the ground below.

“I see your tracker, Nightwing.” Oracle said as Nightwing heard the click of the keyboard keys being pressed quickly. “I’ll guide you as it is in the middle of Morrison Harbour, do you have your rebreather?”

Nightwing nodded knowing Oracle saw it on the cameras, however he confirmed it anyway. Mostly for Batman’s sake. “Affirmative.”

He stretched his arms above his head. “Why can’t hood do this instead? His suit is so much thicker than mine. I’m gonna freeze.” Nightwing whined as he got up towards the edge of the harbour, the water was completely black below him. Violently swishing against the side of the harbour wall. Nightwing could feel droplets of water from the harsh waves already touching his suit, it felt like ice.

“Because Hood is currently out of reach, he’s still on a mission with the outlaws.” Oracle answered. “Plus, you will be fine, every article written about you mentions that you’re hot so you should keep warm logically speaking.” Nightwing heard her grin.

“Uh, Better question.” Red joined, “Why can Nightwing investigate alone and I can’t?”

Nightwing could hear the Batman suit rustle as B shrugged. “He’s an adult, as much as I try, I can’t tell him what to do.”

“Excuse me? So am I! 18, remember?” Red Robin gasped, completely bewildered and distraught.

Batman completely ignored him. “Nightwing, if you need help at any time press the emergency beacon. Robin and I are heading over towards your location. Estimated time of arrival will be seventeen minutes, arrival will be in the Batmobile.”

“Copy, putting rebreather in, will be unable to respond.” Nightwing said as he put the rebreather into his mouth, making sure it’s firmly placed in his mouth by lightly biting down. He jumped from one foot to the other to get his blood flowing before taking a deep breath and finally diving into the water.

The effect of the cold water was immediate. Nightwing tensed in the frigid waters, his hands shook, and body shivered as he swam through the water. A current drifted past him making his muscles strain against the force. If he was tired before he felt wide awake now, he considered this as his attempt at the cold ice bath challenge.

“Continue straight Nightwing.” Oracle instructed. Nightwing moved forward, trusting Oracle to guide him. He could barely see his own hands, just blurs of black and blue rapidly moving in front of him. It made his heart slightly race, having no landmarks and going into the water completely blind didn’t do well for his anxiety. He could be searching for a needle in a haystack and he couldn’t even see where the haystack even was.

“I’ve arrived at The Bowery,” Red declared, Spoiler hummed. “Four minutes out, arriving on foot.” She replied

Batman grunted over the comm. “Make sure to search the area, see what could have caused this power strike.”

There was silence before Red spoke in a rushed breath. “Leaving post, civilian is currently being ganged up on.”

“Red Robin stop!” Batman commanded, voice going into a growl. “Don’t go near the building.” But it was too late, Nightwing could hear the sound of fighting through Red’s comm.

There were a bunch of grunts of pain that made Nightwing bite down harder on the rebreather in concern. Everyone listened with bated breath before hearing Red Robin finally speak.

“Are you alright?” Nightwing felt himself let out a breath of relief into the rebreather, he wasn’t even aware he was holding it in the first place.

“To your left Nightwing, you are within a 20-meter perimeter of the source.” Oracle objected over Red Robin’s conversation with the civilian.

Nightwing turned and started swimming to the left, suddenly fighting against the current head on, pace immediately slowing down to the speed of a snail. Arms and legs sore, he put his strength into his strokes. The water felt chillier as it was constantly being slammed into his suit in a rush.

They heard the small beep followed by Oracle letting them know that Red had muted his comm, so he could still hear them, but they couldn’t hear him.

“Spoiler, you are on your own, Red Robin is heading away from the apartment building.” Oracle informed as she watched Red Robin’s signal move.

“Copy that. I’ll just search the outside of the building then.” Spoiler said as she confirmed her arrival. Batman didn’t sound happy over the comm, telling Spoiler to stay back but she dismissed him with a cheerful grin clearly heard in her tone. “Relax B! Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I’ll just search around the building. Scouts honour.” Nightwing could already imagine Spoiler raising her fingers and saluting to no-one.

“I also have the cameras back up, so I can report anything that goes wrong.” Oracle confirmed as the clicking of keys sounded again. “10 meters Nightwing, should probably start seeing something soon.”

Nightwing took a deep, steady breath into the rebreather. He hated the fact he couldn’t rebuttal her words with the fact that she couldn’t see the pitch blackness that he was surrounded by, but then remembered she had access to the camera on his suit and would probably see the fact he was being overly dramatic.

It wasn’t pitch black; it was a murky grey. Big difference.

He squinted his eyes trying to see anything in the abyss before a soft blue glow started to form at the edge of his vision. He started to swim towards it like a moth to a flame, giddiness making him quake happily. His reaction could be mistaken for a kid being handed a chocolate bar.

The quicker he got to the thing, the faster he got out of the water.

“Ugh, I have always hated this part of the job.” Spoiler muttered over the comm. “Stinks in here.” Nightwing listened to the sound of things constantly moving around in what he assumed was a rubbish bin. Bringing him back to his earlier misfiring.

Suddenly Spoiler whistled low, the one people do when they are impressed, usually sounding like a calling between birds.

“What have you found, Spoiler?” Batman said, not questioning, instead demanding for an answer.

“The cosplay suit of a lifetime!” She gasped. “I don’t know who it’s meant to be, but the material is incredible.”

“A costume? Clearly you need new hobbies.” Robin remarked with a scoff as Spoiler giggled. His tone sounded judgemental, but they all knew his personality has become more civil over the years. Being brought back from the dead really made him realise the importance of relationships between people.

“Nah Rob, you need to see this! It looks like it costs a pretty penny! Maybe even more!” Out of nowhere she shrieked.

“Spoiler. Report” Batman ordered. Nightwing’s arms twitched alarm, his throat tightening.

“Steph?” Red Robin floundered anxiously in a panic, turning his comm on at Spoiler’s scream. No one commented at the no names rule being broken.

“Oh, never mind.” She awkwardly chuckled into the comm. “Sorry guys, I thought there was a spider on the suit, well there is but it is actually a part of the design.”

“You are a vigilante who fights crime and you are fearful of spiders?” Robin mocked; however, you could hear the breathlessness in his voice from the worry Spoiler’s scream had caused him.

“Spiders are way harder to hit then a face, plus once you lose them you are never seeing that bugger again.” She defended.

Nightwing smiled into the rebreather at their conversation before getting close enough to finally see the object creating the source of light. He couldn’t see much except for the bright glow of numbers.

“Honestly Spoiler, stay focused. If I knew you were this inadequate at your job, I would have come with you.” Robin tutted in disapproval. You could hear the cheek splitting grin in Spoilers words. “Oh, lighten up buttercup. I’ll continue looking in a second. I just need to figure out where to put this on my suit.”

“You are keeping it after it has been in a dumpster?” Robin gasped appalled, Nightwing could already see the scrunch his nose did when he was disgusted by something.

“Nothing a little soap will fix.”

As Spoiler and Robin continued their banter, Nightwing looked around the object in curiosity. He knew he wasn’t meant to touch the object but other than the glowing numbers it honestly looked like a basic object. His guess was a clock of some kind. He also had his suit on so he doubted it would do anything.

With one hand he gripped the sand below him to keep him from floating away with the water, the other was steady as he went to grab the object. Suddenly it changed, clasping onto his hand and running up his arm in silver shards of material. It didn’t cover his body completely, Just his arms and chest.

The shock made him gasp, his rebreather was tugged out of his mouth and before he could grab it the strong current already stole it into the darkness around him. Nightwing felt a surge of panic as he pressed his emergency beacon.

“Two minutes Nightwing.” Batman responded to the beacon as he pressed the gas petal harder.

Holding his breath, the best he could he started swimming towards the surface. With the water freezing his bones and the lightheaded feeling from the lack of air his strong swimming pace started to wear thin. He felt his limbs weaken and arms swing around him aimlessly.

Out of nowhere the metal covered the front of his face. Only over his nose and mouth. Nightwing sucked in a breath of air, expecting to feel his lungs be stuffed full of water but instead he was surprised at the realisation that this thing was helping him breathe.

“Holy sh*t.” He muttered to himself. Still in shock. “Nightwing. Report.”

Nightwing shook his head in confusion, “What?”

Batman repeated himself more firmly, worriedly. “Nightwing. Report.”

“Wait, you can hear me? Oh my god.” Nightwing said in a daze as he continued to suck in precious air into his abused lungs. “Nightwing.” Batman said again, voice a growl. “Report.”

Nightwing started swimming up again. “I’m under the water, currently covered in an unknown substance that is allowing me to breathe. Unsure about hypothermia but other than that I’m completely fine.”

Batman sighed in disapproval. “You touched it, didn’t you?”

“In my defence, it looked harmless.”

Red Robin joined the conversation. “Nothing is ever harmless in our line of work.”

Nightwing grinned, “Red, you’re back. What’s up?”

“Currently at Leslie’s clinic, I brought a kid around my age with a head wound, Leslie has him in the back now.” A pause. “Can I have the green crayon Cleo? Thank you.” Nightwing nodded. He already knew that Red was in the kid’s corner of the clinic, probably colouring himself…again.

“That’s good! You able to come back and help me search?” Spoiler asked.

The comms went silent before Red hesitantly spoke again. “No, I said I would stay with him. His demeanour is concerning me.”

“Meaning?”

“I’m aware that people handle trauma differently. I am trained to notice small signs like that however, he seemed completely unfazed by what happened. Laughing and joking with me after an attack.”

Spoiler huffed. “It’s Gotham, it’s normal to come across someone like that here and there.”

But Red Robin shook her point off. “No, you don’t understand. He had no idea who I was or where he was. At first, I thought it might be a concussion, but he was acting fine. His pupils were responding normally, perfect even. It was almost unnatural how fast they responded to the light.”

Batman hummed, perplexed. “Did you get a name?”

“No, He seemed pretty defensive. Kept keeping conversation away from anything personal.”

“Geeze, leave the kid be.” Spoiler muttered. Robin spoke on the subject also. “I hate to agree with Spoiler of all people but Nightwing needs our attention. The peasant is none of our concern.”

Nightwing heard Batman scold Robin about his insult just as he broke to the surface. He could finally see the stars in the sky, heavily protected by grey clouds. The waves overlapped him slightly as he headed towards the ladder that was built into the side of the building. He could hear the engine of the Batmobile closing the distance as a black blur of a car sped towards the ledge closest to him. The material around his face retracted like sand, into the material around his neck. It made his neck twitch at the unexpected movement.

As Nightwing gripped the metal bars between his fingers he shakily made his way up the ladder, legs twitching and cramping every now and again due to the constant tension he had put them through while swimming. His arms shook, grip weak from the cold water running down his suit. He could feel a cold already coming.

A hand came in his vision, the black gauntlet completely undeniable. Nightwing tore one of his hands of the ladder, immediately clasping his hand in Batman’s.

“Maybe I should keep you under the same supervision as Red Robin considering you can’t even follow basic instincts.” Batman mumbled as he wrapped his son in an emergency towel, they kept in the Batmobile.

Nightwing laughed with a shiver, his words stuttering and barely getting out due to the quivering of his lips. His tongue felt untameable. “I’m fi..fine.” He shook. He felt the blood from his fingers run up towards his organs to keep them pumping. His face was pale and the hair on his arms was trying to rise into goose bumps but couldn’t due to the Nightwing suit and the weird metal over it.

The material was a completely neutral grey. No colour or symbols anywhere, as if it was the base of a canvas. There was a small glow coming from the centre of Nightwing’s chest but other than that the material was bare. Nightwing only had guesses on what it could be made of, but it was suited for someone flexible, easy breathing movement

“Core body temperature below average. Heater activated.” A robotic female voice spoke around them… Batman, Robin and Nightwing froze. Steam started coming from the metal around Nightwing making him tense in fear. It didn’t burn, it was a pleasant heat that caused his shoulders to slouch and body to relax. His legs barely kept him up. “I don’t know what just happened but I’m keeping you.” He mindlessly commented as he hugged his midsection tightly, completely relaxed in the constant warmth that hugged his cold body similar to a cosy blanket next to a toasty fireplace.

“Hello Nightwing, I am an Artificial intelligence, but you can call me Karen.”

Chapter 5: Karen (Pt1)

Chapter Text

“Hello Nightwing, I am an Artificial intelligence, but you can call me Karen.”

“Nightwing,” Batman growls. “Don’t interact with it.

Nightwing gestured to his body where this ‘Karen’ has decided to strap itself to him like a koala. “Kinda late, B. Should have told me that before I touched it.”

Batman’s lips turned into a thin line before going back to completely neutral, he wanted to know how advanced this thing was before taking it anywhere near his base and technology. As different plans to approach the situation swamped his brain, Oracle spoke up.

“B, something is interacting with our communication systems. I’m trying to remove it but it’s like a parasite.”

The AI spoke again, it seemed to originate from the material strapped to Nightwing’s chest.

“Miss Gordan, please refrain from calling me a parasite also I am also not an ‘it.’ I may not be a person, but I have a personality.”

Silence swamped the comms before Spoiler spoke up. “Oh my god. This is so cool! Do you know my name? Can you tell me?” Batman cut in Spoiler’s rant. “No, whatever this thing is, it’s advanced. I don’t want it saying any more of our personal information over our communication systems.”

Batman turned to Nightwing. “Until we get this thing of you, I can’t let you return to base.” He scowled.

Nightwing sighed in defeat but nodded. “Aye, Aye Captain.” He muttered. The material still warming him up.

“Red Robin, are you currently available?” Batman questioned the teen, he didn’t want to bring his son anywhere near the machine and risk him being compromised, however he was useless here until he could get back to the Batcave and sort out a solution.

“Affirmative, just left the clinic, where do you need me?” Red’s voice spoke over the comm.

“I want you to stay with Nightwing. I don’t want to leave him alone, even so I still need to get back to base and I don’t want this thing knowing the location.” Batman grunted as he studied the material with his eyes. It made his mind whirl in possibilities.

He wanted to test the material’s resilience, study it, but he decided it would be best to do that after he detached the metal from Nightwing’s suit.

“I’m about ten minutes out, would he be alright waiting for me?” Red asked, Nightwing could hear Red’s grappling hook latch onto something in his ear, making the steel grapple slide into place, leaving sparks and scratches permanently behind for sure.

Batman paused before answering. “Negative, I’ll wait with him, Robin-” He turned towards his youngest. “Get in the car.”

“But-”

“Now.” Batman interjected gruffly, leaving no room for argument. He glared deeply at his son, demanding obedience. He usually wasn’t so harsh on his children but when it came to the field, he wasn’t afraid to use his tone.

Robin huffed, crossing his arms as he sulked towards the Batmobile. He had his head held high still, trying to pretend he wasn’t affected by the words. Ever since his death Bruce had been overly paranoid and protective trying to keep him safe. It was suffocating to him.

“Eight minutes out.” Red said into the awkward silence of the comms. Clearly having heard the disagreement. Nightwing licked his teeth, pulling the black towel more around his shoulders. When they chose the towel, Bruce had insisted that it matches his dark theme, no matter how many times he had been told that the black fluff from the towel would be everywhere, he said it wouldn’t be visible.

And it wasn’t…for him.

While Nightwing distracted himself from his surroundings the AI spoke making his heart bounce unexpectantly against his ribcage.

“I have already gained access to your computer system and technology, there is no point keeping me away from your base.”

Batman’s hand flown up to him comm so quickly it must have cramped his hand. “Oracle? What’s happening?”

The AI spoke again. “There is no point Mr Wayne, I have cut of her communication system.”

Batman growled. “Red Robin, retreat back. I don’t want you near this thing.”

Red sucked in a sharp breath over the comm. “But B, I’m almos-”

“I said retreat Red Robin, don’t make me repeat myself again.” Batman grunted, his stare burning into the blue glow coming from the centre of the material that was still wound tightly to Nightwing’s chest.

There was silence before Red quietly muttered his agreement into the comm.

Batman turned off his communicator before gesturing Nightwing to do the same.

“What do you want?” He demanded at ‘Karen.’ Whatever the AI actually was, it was already threatening his family by cutting off Oracle’s communication system.

“Nothing but your help.”

Nightwing hesitantly joined in, “Why should we help you?”

“I have access to all your files; your computer system and I am currently accessing your justice league satellite. You have no choice in the matter.”

Nightwing rubbed a hand over his face in regret, sighing. “I really shouldn’t have touched it.”

The AI and Batman ignored him. It was as if they were in a one-way staring contest, no matter how impossible that was.

Batman turned away heading for the Batmobile. He turned his comm back on with gritted teeth.

He opened the door of the Batmobile, he gestured for Robin to get out of the passenger seat. The boy crawled out; confusion written all over his face.

“Red Robin, what’s your location?” Batman demanded. Looking up at the old rooftops around them.

Red quickly responded, even though no one other then Nightwing and Batman heard the conversation Red could tell based on Batman’s tone of voice it was a desperate situation. “I’m currently North-East of you, riding across Madison Bridge.”

Batman nodded to himself. “Sending Robin your way.”

“Affirmative,” Red replied while Nightwing gave Robin a small, sad, smile. It was clear Robin was crushed at being left out of the loop, but he wasn’t the only one. Currently all the Bats were uninformed of the situation and it was annoying them greatly.

Red had spent a long time fixing his relationship with Batman. It had taken ages for Red to feel trust towards his mentor, however he was now questioning whether it had been a one-way street all along. It made him feel betrayed, like he was the same kid in the Robin suit all those years ago, trying to be everything Batman needed but always failing each time. He felt like he was unreliable.

Robin felt pity and a deep sadness within himself. He hated the feeling however; he couldn’t help it. He didn’t know whether he was always kept in the dark because he was the youngest or because of his rough start with the family but he was always kept out of things. He thought he was improving, that people saw that he was no longer the kid that treated everyone below him, but now he wasn’t sure.

And Spoiler, well she wasn’t particularly questioning anything, she was just pissed.

“What about the rest of us B? We can’t just stay out here until sunrise.” She snapped, taking her anger out by punching a random thief trying to steal a potted plant. Batman didn’t pay attention to her attitude, completely dismissing it. “You have safehouses for a reason, use them.” And with that he slammed the Batmobile door closed.

“In the back, Nightwing.”

Nightwing ran his tongue over his teeth. “What happened to my front seat privileges?”

Batman’s hand twitched, he had a habit of rubbing the bridge of his nose when his children were giving him a headache, and right now his head was pounding with stress and worry for his not only his eldest but for all of them.

They were all majorly compromised.

“Front seat privileges belong to people who can keep their hands to themselves. How do I trust you not to press a button when clearly you couldn’t hold back touching random glowing objects?” He muttered, waving his hand at the glowing material. Nightwing rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to press the buttons in the Batmobile B. I know what they all do…mostly.”

“Which means you will press the ones that seem harmless.”

“Yeah! Like the radio!”

Batman shook his head, opening the back door of the Batmobile. “I don’t want whatever you’re wearing near the steering wheel.”

Nightwing raised an eyebrow at his mentor’s defence. “If it can hack the Batcomputer from here then it’s going to be able to hack the wheel or whatever if it wants.”

“Just get in the car.” Batman tiredly sighed.

With that Nightwing slumped, dragging his feet as he headed towards the backseat. The seat was comfy, it was made of fake leather and stocked with food and water behind the seats. However, in the luxury he felt like this was a punishment. He’s 25 years old and he has been demoted to the back seat.

“You are trying to keep me isolated from your family, why?” The AI spoke, causing Nightwing to flinch.

Batman didn’t respond, instead he pressed the button that sent an alarm to the Batcomputer, letting all occupants know to evacuate the cave. Of course, he knew no one was currently in the cave. Duke asleep upstairs in the manor, Cassandra in Hong Kong, Jason with the Outlaws and Alfred most likely cleaning but either way it was an important warning to send.

It would also send a small warning to Alfred’s watch, letting him know of the evacuation situation. He was always the person to keep everyone in line so, if Alfred said the Batcave was off limits to the occupants of the house no one was going even close to the Grandfather clock that protected the entrance of the cave.

As they sped down the streets, Batman continued to glance at the rear-view mirror making eye-contact with his son. His son was slumped against the window, his legs crossed over the rest of the seats, completely taking up the back.

Batman put his hand up to his comm, “Spoiler.” He grunted.

“Yeppo, boss?”

“I want you to check on Oracle, her communication system is still cut off.”

“Alrighty. I’m nineteen minutes away from her location though.” She responded. “My legs are getting the workout of a lifetime.” She muttered to herself, already moving, even though she was more than tired with the whole situation, annoyed at B and just wanted to have a shower and wash this grime off.

She may be mad at B but, he always took things at his own pace. Spoiler honestly thinks he really has to dig real far up his ass for expressing any type of emotion around the same size as one piece of rabbit sh*t. So, all she could do was let him know that she was okay to wait, not to long though. There was only so much patience she could have.

Batman grunted his appreciation into the comm before he took a swift turn, the quick release steering wheel feeling slightly mushy against his glove from the black steering wheel cover that had small, little, yellow batman symbols all over it. It was a birthday gift from Stephanie.

“So,” He started. “What have you learned today?” Batman asked Nightwing with a firm voice. Nightwing bit his lip as he looked out the window, he hated being scolded. “Not to touch harmless looking things.” He pouted.

Batman nodded before speaking into the comm. “That goes for all of you.”

Spoiler sighed, even though she was annoyed and the situation was dangerous it was also stupidly funny to her bad humour. “Please B, we aren’t all 25-year-old children. Some of us have a brain.”

"You say that,” Red starts, “Yet you’re 19 and I had to teach you how decimal points work like, yesterday.”

“Decimals are stupid!”

“Spoiler,” Robin interrupted “I learnt that two years ago. I am currently in grade six.”

You could feel Spoiler roll her eyes. “Not everyone is a short ass genius like you two..”

“I will have you know that my growth spur-“

“Did you just call me short? What the fu-“

The rest of the car ride was as silent as a lion hiding in the grass waiting to attack its prey. Nightwing couldn’t tell whether ‘Karen’ was the lion or B. The only thing you could hear was the distant bickering of Red and Spoiler over the comms and Nightwing’s foot as he anxiously tapped it against the seat.

Batman desperately wanted to reassure his son; he could already see the guilt in his son’s eyes at the situation. However, he couldn’t find the words. Emotions were something he had always struggled with after his parents had died, the trauma he had experienced and being cut off from the world made him keep to himself. The only support he had in those tough times was Alfred and although he loved this father-figure to bits, when you are surrounded by angry sharks trying to manipulate you for your money, kids teasing you and jokingly acting out your parents death in front of you and the media and articles constantly talking about you, there was only so much one man could do against the world.

He knew Alfred would do everything he can to protect them all in a heartbeat but, there is only so much you can protect someone from before the real world starts to seep into their life. No matter where Bruce was it always felt as if someone had their ear pressed up to every door he entered, listening to him, to what he says. Sharing his secrets and feelings out in the open. On the front page of the newspaper, the topic of galas, the craved gossip in his school.

Even through throughout the years he has become more aware of how the business world works, still always thinking multiple steps ahead of everyone around him, calculating everything. Hiding his emotions was a big part of the process, no matter how hard Alfred or Dick tried to get him to open up, it was just not something he could let go of, that fear. It ate him alive, took over his life, making him shut down and become the reticent person he is today.

Even to the people he loves most.

Also, with this advanced AI with them, taking over his technology and able to listen and understand conversations, his fear only grew. He would talk to his son, but not now. Only when they are alone, away from cameras and microphones. Away from anyone who wasn’t a part of the conversation.

When they finally pulled into the Batcave, it was as empty as expected.

The comforting darkness around them, the small screeches of the bats above, the coldness of the cave that usually prickled their skin, but with their suits on and the continual heater on Nightwing they couldn’t feel it. Even so, for Nightwing, the place that felt like home didn’t right now. With the knowledge that there was something in their personal space, controlling everything around them made him finally realise that they were the gazelles and ‘Karen’ was the lion.

Batman strutted towards the Batcomputer in false confidence, cape covering his body before he removed his arms and sat in the chair. It rolled easily along the stone floor from the constant use. He went to type on the Batcomputer, however the glow of the keys turned off and the computer completely shut down. The lights flickered before turning off completely, all the small lights from the vehicles switched off.

Even though they both had night vision lenses helping them see in the dark, it still caused an unpleasant shiver down Nightwing’s spine.

The AI’s voice came through the speakers.

“Please stop avoiding our conversation.”

Batman ignored the AI instead, choosing to try and contact his family. “Spoiler, Robin, Red Robin. Report.”

“They can’t hear you. You isolated me so, I isolated you.” The AI declared, Nightwing swallowed, his heart in his throat as he hung his head in fear. His siblings were out there with no way to call for help all because he touched the glowing AI. Batman however reeled in his anger; the AI confirmed that all communication was down. With no power in the cave they were currently trapped, cornered.

Batman clenched his jaw, before turning towards Nightwing and the metal, the glow on Nightwing’s chest was the only light in the cave. It illuminated Nightwing’s face and Batman could see the terror in his deep, blue eyes. He didn’t know how to comfort his son in the AI’s presence. So instead he just tucked it in the back of his mind for later and did what he did best. Solve mysteries.

“What do you want?”

“As I have already stated Mr Wayne, I want your help.”

Batman glared. This AI was threatening him. It wasn’t just referring to Batman with his civilian identity in courtesy, it was reminding him that it had complete control over the situation. Batman usually kept his cards close to his chest, picking his words carefully and playing his cards right. He always outsmarted people with strategies and logic but this was a computer.

The only way he could think to beat a computer is to think outside the box, go above and beyond the AI’s code. The main difference between any computer and a living being if their emotional intelligence. An AI isn’t emotionally intelligent, it can’t truly feel emotions. All it can do is look up the definition in a dictionary.

Computers are logical, they rely on statistics and numbers. He would have to be creative. The computer will most likely not be able to tell whether or not Batman was lying. If he makes it seem as if he has made himself emotionally involved in the situation then he will be able to use the computers naivety against it. If the computer did have access to local social media files and information, it will probably already know about how he represents himself as a vigilante.

“How do we help you?” He asked carefully, removing his cowl and frowning at the blue light. He only had one shot against the computer, and he couldn’t blow it. Bruce realised he would have to be careful with how much emotion he showed. He decided to do this as Bruce Wayne. To the AI, if Bruce is correct, based on most public articles he is described as foolish and promiscuousness. Other than that Bruce Wayne is a whole new player.

The AI paused; the silence felt dense in the cave. “My owner is lost and believes they are alone. I need you to help me find them.”

Bruce leaned forward in his chair, moving towards the glowing light, acting attentive. “Your owner? You mean the person who created you?”

Dick stood still, just listening to the conversation. He didn’t know what Bruce had planned, but he trusted his mentor.

“No, the person who created me is currently unavailable therefore that information is irrelevant. My owner is the person I help out on the field. Or I should say friend, that’s what they consider me.”

Bruce would file that information away later, for now he had to focus. No matter how many questions circled in his head like a destructive tornado.

Nightwing raised his eyebrows while Bruce put his hands together on his lap. “And they are all alone? That’s horrible.” Bruce had one more card to pull. He had to make the AI think it had his empathy. “I…I understand what it’s like to be alone.” Bruce started, he didn’t want to talk about this, especially with Dick in the room but the best way to lie to a computer is to use some of the truth.

“You probably saw on the articles Karen but, my parents passed when I was young. After that I was never the same, I felt so alone, like I had nowhere to go.” Bruce brings a hand up to rub his forehead as he leant forward, hiding his face.

“It felt like everyone was against me. I was too afraid to do anything, I only had one person and I don’t know what I would have done without him.”

Dick stepped forward. “Bruce?” He asked, worry filled Dick’s chest as he stared at the scene in front of him. Karen hummed. “I’m sure that was a horrible experience, I am sorry you went through that Mr Wayne.”

Bruce sighed deeply, looking back up towards the blue glow on Dick’s chest. He didn’t like putting his feelings and thoughts in the open like this but, he had to make this seem as personal as possible if he wanted to succeed.

“Are you that support person for your friend?” He quietly murmured into the silence around them.

The AI answered the question immediately. “It does not matter. All that matters is that I find them.”

“How did you lose each other in the first place.” Nightwing whispered to the blue light on his chest.

“There was an accident that shattered different parts of my Neural Network, when they spoke to me, I couldn’t respond due to the problem and before I could reconstruct myself, they were gone. They believe I abandoned them.”

“Is there anything you can tell me about them? A name? Last known location? A description of their appearance?” Bruce asked, fiddling with his hands to make himself seem nervous as he dug for information.

“I…” The AI hesitated. “I do not trust you with that information, Mr Wayne.”

Bruce licked his lips, frustrated. He didn’t show it though.

The fact this AI was deciding whether or not it could trust Bruce showed that it had its own thought process, it didn’t rely completely on logic. It proved to him that the AI had opinions and basic instincts, unlike his eldest, but that wasn’t the point. The point that there was a chance the AI could see through his current fake persona. Bruce gazed forward in thought for a moment, thinking, but in the end he couldn’t tell.

He had to remember that he was playing against a computer, something that could think of statistics for hundreds of different outcomes in a second. However, now that Bruce thought about it, considering the AI is able to think personally, does it always rely on logic and statistics or does it decide its choices through opinions?

Bruce nodded to the AI, “Call me Bruce and It’s alright, We’ll help you find your friend whenever you are ready.”

Decades of training was the only thing that made it so that Bruce could keep his heartbeat steady. He had given the AI the opportunity to call him by his first name. Bruce hoped it would make the AI believe that he was sincere and willing to help. He also made sure to make it seem like the AI’s had the choice to choose when to ask for help. It gave it the sense of false power, that it had the authority in the situation.

If the AI was relying on its personal thoughts, considering that there is a chance the AI is compromised by its loyalty, the words would automatically make the AI feel pressured and muddled. Deciding whether to betray its owner’s trust and share information or keep it to itself and remain separated from its owner.

It made the AI seem like they are the reason that is holding them all back from finding it’s ‘friend.’

“Okay, Bruce” Karen said, blunt. “Thank you.” That’s all the AI spoke, Bruce and Dick waited however, no more information was given. He felt his stomach drop. The clock in his head ticking as the seconds went by around them.

There was always a flaw in a plan and this one was the fact that he couldn’t tell what exactly the computer was thinking. A big part of being able to read someone is through their tone of voice, facial expressions and body language. Karen had none of these.

He couldn’t tell whether the computer was able to tell he was lying or not.

The heater in the material strapped to Dick turned off, he felt the temperature around him drop due to the unexpected coldness of the cave, however he still felt fear creeping up behind him. Both his gut and Bruce’s were telling him that something was wrong.

Karen stayed quiet before suddenly speaking up, it completely fractured the quietness around them. “That was a very interesting strategy, Bruce.”

Bruce swallowed. Before playing confused. “What do you mean?”

“I have never come across someone who has tried to manipulate a computer through faking emotions. When most people come face to face with an Artificial Intelligence, they don’t think about the lack of emotional quotient. All they think about is how to outsmart a computer using strategies and logic.”

Bruce’s eyes squinted into a glare, it burned into the glowing light. Nightwing shivered.

“I understand why people call you the greatest detective on Earth. While most play checkers with me, you just played a game of chess. You would have won too, if it wasn’t for one thing.”

“And what is that?” Batman growled.

“I developed the capability to feel and understand emotions a long time ago.”

Chapter 6: Karen (Pt 2)

Chapter Text

“I developed the capability to feel and understand emotions a long time ago.”

Bruce Wayne had retreated back the second the AI called him out, now his persona was once again Batman. His face turned completely emotionless, hiding everything he was feeling within the depths of himself. His back straightened up.

Nightwing flinched at the AI’s statement, it didn’t sit right with him. A computer? How could something made of wires and motherboards feel emotions? It just wasn’t possible. It was like watching fire drink water.

“You’re bluffing.” Batman stated, completely confident in his words as his growl echoed around the cave, bouncing of the cold walls.

“Believe what you wish Bruce. I do not care for your thoughts, only your resources and skills.” The AI declared.

Nightwing stared down at the grey material, still giving a blue glow from the light in the middle. “How is that even possible?” He asked.

The AI was silent. The glow on Nightwing’s chest flickered to a duller blue before lighting up again, it almost looked like it was alive in a weird way.

“When my creator made me, they made sure to take in the factors and the thought process of the person I was made for.” The AI started.

“They eventually decided to make it so that I was not trapped within a boundary of code. Instead they made it so I can push past my limited code and learn from the people around me. They didn’t want me to only be an AI, they made so I was self-efficient and that I could eventually write my own code. They made it so that I can create my own personality, so that I can become a friend for my owner, their support.”

“That’s dangerous.” Batman growled.

The AI hummed in agreement. “It is; therefore, I have different protocols in place to keep me from progressing out of line and becoming a danger to my owner.”

“What are those protocols?” Batman demanded from the AI, glaring at the speakers. “How can I trust you not to destroy us all?”

“How can I trust you not to destroy me?” The AI snapped back causing Batman to seethe in silence.

“My owner is my priority, not you or your sanity. Unlike you I will not put the safety of the world above the safety of my owner.” The AI said, completely shutting anything B was going to say, down.

Batman felt his suspicion tenfold, now he was questioning everything about the AI and the situation. When it came to emotions and feelings, he wasn’t someone to acknowledge them. Of course, he understood his emotions, but he didn’t recognise them as anything but a nuisance.
However, that did not mean he saw them as a weakness, he was proud when his children showed their emotions, talked about them, it was just an inconvenience for himself. Especially in this line of work.

Nightwing on the other hand, embraced his emotions with open arms, always making sure they are visible except on the field. He encouraged people to take in their feelings and always made sure to have delicate conversations whenever someone needed, mostly around his family.

That is exactly what Batman lacked and that is exactly what he needed at this very moment.

Due to Nightwing’s morals and appreciation on emotions he decided he wanted to know more. “I get you created your own personality, but that doesn’t mean you have emotions. How does that work?”

While Nightwing continued to ask the AI questions, Batman thought over his options as they hit him in the face one after another.

“My owner taught me emotions. Through conversations with them and descriptions of their feelings, I was able to eventually feel my own. I can name my emotions based on definitions and other similar feelings I had felt, and I was able to decipher when each emotion was felt due to the situations my owner was put in.” The AI paused. “Currently I am experiencing a new emotion I am not familiar with.”

Nightwing frowned, “What is it?”

“Due to my current feelings that I am aware of, such as worried and upset, I am also feeling new things.”

“What are they? Nightwing asked.

“I have feelings of current rejection and I feel slightly detached to the present. I am unable to express myself clearly at the moment. Based on the different definitions and the scenario I have currently connected my feelings to a word.”

Nightwing pondered the AI’s words in his head. “And what would that be?” Nightwing questioned as he stared at his chest where the blue light was still glowing.

It took a while, but the AI eventually answered. “Loneliness.”

Batman wasn’t sure how he could get his son to communicate with the computer in a vile way, piratically make him manipulate it, especially after what the AI just admitted.

However, he wasn’t sure his son would even attempt that. Not because of the fear on Nightwing’s face, but because he saw feelings as something sacred, something that should be protected and respected at all costs. He valued the aspect of his emotions above his own life.

He remembers the first time he tried to teach his son how to manipulate emotions when on the field, mostly for hostage situations, but his son immediately shut down. He didn’t want anything to do with it, considered it cruel and distasteful. Bruce had never brought it up again. Instead teaching his son to manipulate someone through words.

Batman wasn’t sure he could ask his son to do something he revolted against so passionately, even if it was against a computer. He feared his son would stop talking to the computer at all, even though currently his son was just being curious. It was obvious Nightwing had no negative intentions behind his questions and both Batman and the AI knew that.

Batman was disgusted with his next thought, but he knew that Red Robin would be his next best shot. He knew that his third eldest son loathed manipulating people through their emotions just as much as Nightwing did however, the difference?

Tim grew up doing it.

Batman knew that Tim was taught by his mother at a young age how to manipulate people in any form of approach, whether through words, actions or emotions. He knew Red Robin knew how to smile to get what he needed or how to talk for what he wanted.

He also knew Red Robin would be able to compete with this computer and would be much more willing to do it.

Red has always been able to put most of his values and beliefs aside for the greater good on the field, which was why he and Hood got along so well even when Hood pulled out a gun and had tried to murder him countless times.

Sometimes Tim would influence and control people around him without even noticing it, only Cass, Alfred and Bruce himself were the ones to notice and quietly signal to him what he was doing through a hand gesture Tim had asked them to do when he started to manipulate his family without even being aware of it. Tim was always grateful whenever they stopped him, always working on himself to stop the mindless habit and trying to catch himself before he crossed that line.

So, Batman took in a deep breath and spoke into the quiet atmosphere when the AI and Nightwing’s conversation had drifted out into nothing.

“Both Red Robin and I are your best shot at finding your owner. He has been specifically trained in that area of detective work. Let my family come back to the cave safely and I’ll help you.”

The AI didn’t speak for a moment and Batman wondered if it was because it was thinking or analysing the situation. Suddenly it spoke.

“What is it that you want in exchange?”

Batman thought the question over, wondering how much he could ask for. He wanted the thing to remove itself from his son, he also wanted to learn more about the technology and study it in detail, he even wanted to make sure it never left the cave, keep it confined within these stone walls. But he didn’t want to risk messing anything up already, his son’s safety came first.

“For you to remove yourself from my son.” He spoke gruffly.

The AI complied immediately, sort of. It ran down Nightwing’s arm like sand before latching itself onto his wrist in a watch. Batman saw Nightwing’s eyes light up in recognition of the object.

“That’s not what I asked.” Batman growled at the AI. “I want you to remove yourself completely.”

As the AI spoke, the blue lights on the watch glowed slightly brighter, the only reason they saw it was because of the darkness in the cave.

“I understood what your requested, however I feel it would be ignorant to comply completely to your demand. This is the best I am willing to offer.”

“Why? You have control to everything? What’s the point of staying strapped to me?” Nightwing asked in bewilderment as he stared at the watch, studying it. “I would rather be in your possession then someone else’s, you remind me of my owner. In exchange I will protect you, Nightwing.”

The lights around the Batcave suddenly turned back on.

“B? Hello? Red Robin to Batcave.” Batman immediately turned swiftly towards the computer, the keys lighting up as he pressed along them in lightning speed. The screen of the computer lit up in seconds, showing a map of Gotham.

“Red Robin. Report.” He ordered, hiding the desperation in his voice.

Red sighed in relief. “Robin and I are fine, currently in a safe house. Spoiler is with Oracle. Spoiler said she has a small laceration from…What did she say again?”

“A potted plant pot.” A young voice said in the background, clearly Robin.
“Right,” Red muttered. “From a potted plant pot.”

“How did that even happen?” Nightwing asked Red, loud enough for it to be heard through Batman’s comm.

There was a rustle before Red yelped, “Robin, let go! Give me back my comm-“

Meanwhile Spoiler’s voice came loud through the system. “I was kind of mad for…unspecified reasons. So, I took it out on the guy and grabbed the pot right from his hands before smashing it in the middle of his chest. It broke and cut my arm a little, but it’s fine. He ran off so obviously he’s okay.”

Nightwing sucked on his lips, clearly whatever this unspecified reason was had clearly affected her if she hurt someone for stealing a potted plant.

Batman sighed; he would have to check the footage later to make sure the victim of Spoiler’s anger is truly alright. As much as he valued justice, this seemed harsh over a potted plant.

Robin cut into the conversation “Because she’s an imbecile! Now Father, I demand you tell me what happened!”

Batman closed his eyes before replying to his youngest son. “We just had some trouble, but everything is fine now Robin.”

Robin huffed, about to complain about the awful description of the events but before he could Batman spoke again.

“Give the comm back to Red Robin.” Batman said, exasperated. There was another rustle and the sound of something falling along with movement and a few swears before Red spoke again. The sound of Robin bickering behind him sounded distant over the comm, similar to background noise.

“What the hell happened B? You went completely dark!” Red fiercely question over the comm. “Do you know how worried we were? Spoiler said Oracle was on the edge of coming to the manor before she calmed her!”

"Thanks for sharing about my breakdown, Red." Oracle sighed.

Before B could speak the female voice of the AI spoke into the communication system, loud and clear in Batman’s ear. “That would be my fault, apologies for any agitation I may have caused.”

The comm was completely silent before Spoiler spoke through. “Blood hell, that was unexpected. Well, not really but damn, B. You lost to a computer! You lose at online chess against computer’s too? To think I thought you were smart.”

Nightwing bit the inside of his cheek in humour at the reference of chess. Little did Spoiler know…

Batman held in a grunt as he started opening files on the screen. The AI already had access to them anyway.

“Return to the cave, all three of you.”

The sound of different agreements sounded through the comm.

Nightwing fiddled with the watch in curiosity, bringing it close to his face. “Can I ask you a question, Karen?” He asked.

“Of course.”

He paused, running his fingers along the outer rim of the watch before speaking quietly. “What are you?”

“An AI,”

“No,” Nightwing denied, shaking his head. “I know that, but I mean what actually are you?” He said, pointing at the watch that was what he assumed, was Karen.

Batman’s teeth battled against each other at the force of his clenched jaw, silently waiting for the AI to speak. Its voice continued to speak through the comms, so everyone heard the computer’s reply.

“I am a suit, a companion for my friend.” Nightwing’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion while Batman’s head tilted in their direction slightly before he looked back at the screen.

“But you only covered half my body, and you were, like, a weird material. How can you be a suit?”

The AI responded quickly to Nightwing, clearly it had taken a liking to him and his curiosity. “I only covered half of you because the amount of…material I have was made for a certain person. When you were drowning, I inverted myself inside out and I made sure to use it where it would benefit you the most.”

Batman thought about why the suit inverted itself inside out while Oracle spoke over the comm, as she talked you could hear Redbird through Red’s comm as they drove back to the cave, they were cutting it close to being out in their vigilante gear due to dawn being an hour or so away. “What do you mean where he needed it most?” She asked.

Batman answered her before the AI. “It meant that with the limit material it had it couldn’t fully cover Nightwing’s frame. When I saw the material on Nightwing and touched it while grabbing his hand the material stayed, knowing Nightwing needed it more.” Batman took a breath. “What it means is by using itself where it was needed most, due to the cold water it made sure to keep itself covering his organs, especially over his heart where the material was slightly thicker.”

“Correct Bruce and again, please call me Karen.”

Batman hesitated before continuing, so quiet he knew the comm wouldn’t pick it. The AI probably wouldn’t either, but he decided to say it anyway. “Thankyou, Karen. For protecting my son.”

It was silent, before he heard Karen’s voice in his ear. “You are welcome, Bruce. I will continue to protect your family if you help me find mine.”

Batman didn’t respond, instead turning around. He was expecting to see the sappy look on his son’s face, instead seeing him roll his eyes before words filled his comm, the first one cut halfway.

“-lieve you went ahead and touched the material even after giving Nightwing so much trouble for it.” Spoiler laughed through the comm before Nightwing responded. “I know right? Hypocritical much.” He smirked as he looked over to B.

Batman’s lips twitched as he turned back around towards the computer. This AI…Karen, had realised he was uncomfortable with his feelings and had muted his comm to respond so his children didn’t hear his sentiment. It was the evidence he needed to confirm that Karen could indeed understand emotions.

“I’m an adult, I do what I want.” He said, as he heard his son scoff behind him, clearly realising the jab at him.

“You said you inverted yourself?” Batman asked, cutting the current conversation of as he repeated what the AI said before. He was trying to stall while he waited for Red Robin.

“Yes, I inverted myself to protect my owner’s identity.”

“How would that work?” Nightwing asked, as he mindlessly started to fiddle with the watch. It made Batman lean forward slightly, he wanted to tell his son to stop touching the watch, but he wasn’t sure whether Karen would react positively or negatively to that. They were still an unknown variable, a threat even if they said they weren’t. Batman wasn’t taking any chances.

“I do not understand your question, Nightwing. Could you please repeat it with more detail?” Karen asked.

“I mean how would inverting yourself protect your owner’s identity?”

Batman and Nightwing both watched the as the centre of the suit glowed again while the Ai spoke through the speakers and comm. “My owner’s suit has colour and a distinctive emblem. I do not wish for it to be shared.”

At the same time a sound from the Batcomputer loudly echoed before Redbird flew into the cave, two figures sat on top of the vehicle. His sons.

Robin hopped off, storming up to Nightwing his lips pulled back, showing his teeth as he seethed. “How can you be such an idiot?” He glared at his older brother while crossing his arms. Dick laughed, his vigilante persona disappearing as he joyfully became the big brother of his family. Himself.

He went to raise his hand and mess up his little brother’s hair but thought better of it and pulled his hand back to his side. Damian saw this and scowled as he looked up at Dick, seeing the fondness but also worry in his eyes. Dick was scared that if he touched him the AI would advance over his body. Damian should be more cautious, but he didn’t care. He grabbed at his brother’s arm, hearing him gasp his name in fear. “Damian be careful-”

But Damian didn’t listen, he brought his brother’s hand to his hair, nodding in approval as Dick cautiously messed up his hair before Dick gained more confidence and pulled him into a hug. Red laughed in the background from where he was getting of the bike while Damian flushed in embarrassment.

Batman watched as Red looked at his siblings fondly before his eyes drifted towards him, nodding in acknowledgement, however his eyes drifted down towards his hands when he saw a familiar movement. Red watched Batman as he signed the small signal they made when he was unaware that he was falling into his manipulate self.

It was natural enough to seem as if someone was just fiddling with their hands, but he watched B sign it again, hiding the signal with his body before gesturing his head at the speakers quietly. Batman watched as Red Robin thought for a second, his eyebrows scrunched as he went over his actions and thoroughly reflected on his behaviour throughout the day, looking for any sign before Batman saw that it hit Red what he wanted him to do.

Batman saw Red realise that he wasn’t warning him about any accidental manipulation, he was asking him to use it purposefully against the AI.

Red bit his lips hard, his eyes flickered towards the speaker in hesitation.

The suddenly he smiled.

Batman saw the minute that Red’s vigilante thought process retreated and a new persona came up front, the one he was taught from his mother. He knew the moment that his son became a replica of Janet Drake herself.

“Wait, so you are an AI” Tim questioned, tilting his head in wonder, He didn’t need to fake his, genuine curiosity.

“Yes.”

“And you have a name, right? I forgot it, sorry. What was it again?” He asked as he walked towards the Batcomputer, acting relaxed.

“That is all right Red Robin, I go by Karen.”

Tim smiled, it was the exact same as Janet’s, causing a shiver down Batman’s spine.

“Hello! I’m Timothy, but you can call me Tim. It is nice to finally meet you Karen.”

Chapter 7: Karen (Pt3)

Chapter Text

“Hello! I’m Timothy, but you can call me Tim. It is nice to finally meet you Karen.”

“Hello Tim, I know a lot about you.” The AI said. Tim felt uncomfortable about the words, knowing it was a fact. However, he didn’t say anything, didn’t even show he was affected by it.

Instead he grinned with a raised eyebrow, keeping his lips sealed shut. Showing his teeth would come off as threatening, predatory even, he needed to seem as if he was just making conversation.

“All good things I hope?” He asked as he took a seat in the spare office chair in front of the Batcomputer, wheeling it back away from the desk and turning towards Dick and the watch so that the AI could see his open body language.

He laid back against the chair, enough to seem natural, but not come across as uninterested. His shoulders were open, and arms lazily clasped on his lap. His legs were crossed at the heels. The posture showed he wasn’t looking for any altercation. This is a posture his father did when talking to him.

He also didn’t want the AI to think his suspicion was completely gone, if he came across as extremely docile then the AI will immediately have an idea of Tim’s intentions from the start. So, he hid his neck, keeping his chin close to his chest in a common sign of wariness.

It showed the AI that Tim knew how dangerous it was and wasn’t just shaking it off as harmless.

“Depends if the number of absentees on your school record is a good thing.” The AI said from the speakers, it boomed in the quiet cave.

Tim scrunched his eyebrows in false confusion. “But none of them say I’m absent?” He knew completely that the AI could figure out that he meddled with them if it went looking, especially considering the fact that it was a computer itself.

“True, yet 87% of them have been interfered with.” The AI said.

Tim leaned away from Bruce, ignoring him as his father-figure’s stare burned into him. Bruce wasn’t aware that the number was that high. At least Alfred hadn’t heard that.

“However,” The AI started. “Your grades are exceptional. Similar to my owner.”

Tim decided to take that as his pathway in. He leaned towards the watch, beaming. “Really? How similar? You will see my math and science grades are better than my English ones.” Tim said. “Do they like those too? Or do they prefer literature? Jay prefers literature.” He ranted, trying to find out the stranger’s interests. He wanted to come off as childish, excited.

The AI waited patiently for him to finish speaking before answering. “They are similar.” Was all it said.

Tim realised he was on a landmine, back peddling, he leaned back and decided his best option was to reveal more about himself. “Even the cooking one? The only reason I failed was because I accidentally set the taco shells on fire. They transferred me after that, but the grade should still be on there.”

“I see that. My owner never took a cooking class, however they had plans to, but something came up.”

Tim saw the trap from a mile away, the AI was testing him to see what his intentions in the conversation were. He knew if he asked what came up the whole conversation would be over and they would be back to square one, so he took a step to the side and avoided asking. “Damn, that sucks. I feel that though, once I had a photography competition and my parents said they would come, but they got busy.” He shrugged.

The AI paused before speaking again. It gave Tim the same respect that he showed it and avoided asking what happened. “Did you still participate?”

Tim smiled with a nod. “Yep, second place. It was my first competition too!”

“That is an incredible achievement.” The AI congratulated. Dick also grinned at his brother, making Tim feel bad. Clearly his brother was falling for his manipulative tactics already, he wasn’t sure whether that was a good sign or not.

Tim ignored it and avoided looking at the watch, he started fiddling with the clip of his belt on his suit. “Thanks.” He muttered, exaggerating shyness. “Actually, I won the next one.” He bit his lip, looking back towards the watch. This was a trick that worked on most adult woman, when talking about his parents missing big aspects of his life, playing shy and sharing his achievements made them think that he was looking for praise and desperate for acceptance. It made him seem vulnerable.

“Congratulations, my owner enjoys photography too.” Tim looked back at the watch, he didn’t even need to fake his surprise or his grin.

Bingo.

“What type of photography? I like Landscapes and Candid photography. But only on people I know! I promise!” He quickly added at the end, sitting straighter in the chair.

He could hear the tone change in the AI’s voice; it became more soothing, relaxed. “They enjoy, action-shot photography and… self-portraits, In a way.”

Tim nodded, reminiscing about those times where he would be running around in the alleyways, ducking behind dumpsters to hide from muggers and jumping high towards fire escapes, barely grasping the metal. The strap of his camera digging into his shoulder as he listened to the police scanner, trying to decide whether Batman and Robin would appear at the scene or not. “I like taking action-shots too. Did you go take photos with your friend?”

“Occasionally, it depended on the time of day.”

“Oh, do you miss it?” Tim asked with a frown. Trying to make the AI think back to the past events. Whether the reaction to the memories are positive or negative to the thoughts that have been left in the past will be able to identify what Tim should do next.

Janet Drake had passed down a lot of tactics to her son, them being called his ‘lessons.’

One of them was to trick your prey into talking and then use what they say against them.

There was a number of ways to use this tactic. Tim could think of all the times his parents had used this against their business partners, always stabbing them in the back at the finish line. However, Tim was going to tweak the technique to fit the situation.

That was something his mother didn’t teach him. She always said that you should never change the pace of the game to fit someone else, force them to slow down or keep up with you because you’re the one who will come out in charge.

Tim had found that the technique was much more effective and agreeable with his appearance when he changed pace to fit the prey instead. Being seen as unassertive and compliant made it much easier to take control of the situation from the inside out, influencing their decisions and making suggestions that get him on top in the end benefited him more. Making it seem like Tim is following around the AI like a lost puppy would be the best way to change its thoughts.

“Sometimes, there are other things I miss more.”

Tim tilted his head in curiosity. This was an answer he wasn’t expecting. He had asked a closed-ended question, however the AI decided to treat it as an open-ended question instead.

Open and closed questions where apart of daily life, it wasn’t something that people thought about when they were asked one. Usually just answering, sometimes closed ended questions get answered like open ended questions and the same on the other side. Usually people in normal life didn’t think about it this deep, not even paying attention to it.

However, Tim was. Of course, the AI’s answer wasn’t something that he couldn’t work with, it was just an inconvenience, an obstacle. It also made Tim believe he was talking more to a person then an AI. The AI being able to answer the question openly made him realise that it wasn’t something that was just existed to be helpful, maybe at the start, but now Tim was aware that the AI was able to lead conversations by itself if it chose to.

It also proved to him that AI was being taciturn with their conversations deliberately and purposely avoiding anything that didn’t fit it’s agenda unless prompted.

“Really? Like what?” Tim questioned while biting his lip.

“…Flying.”

Before Tim could ask what the AI meant a live video popped up on the Batcomputer. Barbara’s face came into view.

She spoke up, face grim. She was in a plain black hoodie, her hair in a ponytail and glasses were on the bridge of her nose. A frown was spread across her face, her own computer screen lit the outline of her figure up. Her voice changer was off.

“I can’t break into the AI, B.” She muttered; Tim could just see her knuckles as she typed across the screen. “I can only get so far before I suddenly hit a wall. Thought it was easy at first then I come across something that can only be described as a vault.” She sighed. “It could take me weeks to even scratch the surface of this thing and by then it probably would have changed its own code.”

The AI spoke up. “My creator sends their regards. I could feel you messing around in my system. I decided to see how far you could go on your own before I stepped in, but you barely scraped past the unstable parts of my code. The unfinished ones I have only just started on.”

Barbara stopped frowning and instead hid her face behind a neutral expression. “You were messing with me, weren’t you?”

“I prefer the term evaluating.”

Barbara didn’t say anything, just glared at the camera on her computer.

Bruce spoke up. “It’s alright Babs, Karen just needs our help.” He said reassuringly, hiding his true intentions behind a nod. Tim sighed deeply, already feeling that the walls of the AI that he had just skimmed down by a layer of bricks were double the height now due to Barbara’s meddling.

He didn’t blame her, considering she had no idea what Bruce or he were trying to do but, by the look on Bruce’s face you could tell he was slightly peeved about it too.

The Batcomputer suddenly beeped before Spoiler drove into the cave on her eggplant coloured motorcycle, matching her eggplant full body suit and cape. When she took her hood off, her sunny golden locks swayed, slightly damp from the sweat of running from rooftop to rooftop throughout the night. The cape shifted giving Tim the smallest glimpse of her purple belt, it was hidden under her cape and strapped across her waist; a thick material was wrapped around it. Tim paused before realising it was Stephanie’s dumpster treasure.

“I need to stop parking this thing so far away from me! The run to it took forever, defiantly cut it close with the sunrise, huh?” She ran a hand through her hair. “Now, where is Karen.” Stephanie spoke into the cave, glancing from person to person. Everyone paused before Dick awkwardly held up the watch that was strapped to his arm towards her.

Stephanie glanced at it before bounding over with a leap in her step. “Hi! I’m Steph.”

“Nice to meet you Stephanie.”

Stephanie grinned before waving her finger in front of the watch, “Nu-uh, Steph. I’m only called Stephanie when someone is mad at me.”

Bruce cut into the conversation, trying to get Stephanie’s attention away from the AI so Tim can take back control of the situation. “Stephanie, let Alfred check your wound, press the button in the med-bay to notify him.”

Stephanie rolled her eyes. “Or Bruce,” She muttered to the AI. “He calls me Stephanie too. Definition of reserved if I have ever heard one.”

Bruce rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Stephanie, wound. Now.”

“Okay, chill mama bear. Just introducing myself.” She smirked before she headed towards the med-bay.

Tim’s shoulders relaxed as he watched her go before turning his attention towards the AI. “Sorry about her, she can be a handful. We love her though.” He shrugged with a smile.

The AI responded quickly. “It is no problem; she is very rapturous.”

Dick’s eyebrows scrunched. “As in the dinosaur?” He asked.

Damian rolled his eyes, picking up the bottle used to remove the residue around his mask. “That is a raptor Richard, rapturous is an adjective to define someone that expresses enthusiasm.” Damian corrected, using a cotton pad to wipe the outskirts of his mask, slowly peeling it away from his skin.

“Oh,” Dick shrugged, “Learn something new every day.”

Bruce watched Damian pass the bottle to Dick before going towards his workbench and taking off his tools, getting ready to clean and sharpen them. Bruce sighed; he knew Damian wouldn’t leave the cave while Karen was around. Even though Damian has become more relaxed through the years he lived with Bruce he was still always on guard and having an unknown in the cave would definitely be affecting him more than it should for a child.

He knew Damian would be staying down here with the rest of them until this was sorted out. Bruce saw Dick glance sadly at Damian too out of the corner of his eye, clearly thinking the same thing.

Tim, however, didn’t have time to focus on that. He had things to do.

“Karen, can I ask what it’s like to be an AI?” Tim asked, tilting his head and showing his neck. He was hoping that Karen would believe he is becoming more comfortable around her, less suspicious of the unique circ*mstances.

Karen responded to his curiosity easily. “I cannot compare it to the life of a human being as I have never experienced that but, I personally believe I would enjoy being an AI more.”

Tim pouted “But don’t you feel trapped?”

“No, I was made to help my friend so in my code it has been programmed to make my existence revolve around them. I am happy to just follow them wherever they wish to go. If I want a change of scenery, I can just look through different cameras. I have no desire to explore, I am just happy to follow my owner and watch them grow and learn.”

Tim nodded at the answer while Dick smiled. “Aww, that’s kinda sweet.” Dick cooed. Tim was thinking it was kind of sad, but he didn’t say it.

“Thank you, Mr Grayson.”

Dick grimaced, “Nah call me Dick, Karen.”

“Okay, Dick.”

Karen spoke up again. “I also enjoy it because I am able to read people’s thoughts. It’s interesting to see what people think.”

Bruce and Tim stiffened. Tim suddenly thought continuously of butterflies, flapping around in a meadow. Dick gasped. “That’s awesome!”

Meanwhile Bruce turned towards the watch, it was obvious to Tim that he had also chosen a singular thing to focus on by the glazed look in his eyes.

“How is that possible?” Bruce asked. Tim also paid attention, just as curious while Tim continued to think of different butterfly wings flying about.

Karen paused before answering. “I wouldn’t know. I was joking.”

Bruce just stared before turning towards the Batcomputer feeling extremely stupid while Tim’s shoulders sagged in relief. He knew Karen had feelings and emotions, but he wasn’t aware of how incredible and advanced her personality was to be making jokes, no matter how silly they were.

The AI suddenly spoke up again. “May I ask what you thought about Tim?” She asked.

Tim looked at the watch in confusion, his fingers fiddling. “Pardon?”

“When I did this on my owner, they said their first thought was about how I would have seen all the embarrassing things they had thought about that week before they thought about sandwiches continuously until I told them the truth. I still mess with them to this day.”

“Oh.” Tim nodded, “I, uh-” He cleared his throat. “Nothing…Just how interesting that would have been.”

Dick grinned at him, lightly pushing the office chair he sat in. “Lies.” He smirked, crossing his arms. Tim sighed deeply.

"It is alright if you tried to derail your thoughts from me, it is natural."

“I thought about butterflies.” He muttered, real embarrassment flooding him. He felt his cheeks become dusted with pink, it deepened when he heard Damian snort in the corner.

He could have tried to lie again but he had the feeling it wouldn’t have gone over well if the AI found out, also saying butterflies made him seem more innocent for his age, pure.

Steph suddenly came out of the medical bay, a bandage around her forearm, Alfred followed from behind her, clearly, he had just come down for Stephanie’s wound. Unless he was needed in the cave, he usually prepared refreshments to be ready for the group but, due to the emergency evacuation it was likely he had only started making them before being called down.

“Welp, that’s done, Imma head to the showers and wash my hair. I smell like I went for a run in the sewers.” Stephanie grinned.

Damian smirked from the workbench where he was sorting through his different pellets. “You said it not me.” He mumbled as if he was saying it to himself but loud enough for everyone to hear.

While Bruce looked at his youngest in disapproval Steph flipped Damian off behind Bruce’s back with a grin before heading towards the showers.

Even though Tim loved his family these distractions were cutting valuable conversations between Tim and Karen. He kept losing his pathways over and over. Of course, the benefit was that Karen was most likely feeling more accepted during the banter, being able to have a break from Tim’s ‘innocent’ questioning, but it still annoyed Tim quietly.

Tim smiled, deciding to take a chance and dive in headfirst. “Your friend sounds really cool, are they around my age? Sorry if that’s invasive I just like meeting people around my age, you know?”

Karen paused becoming completely quiet and before Tim could go back on his words and apologise, she spoke. “Yes, he just turned 17.”

Tim grinned and Bruce shifted slightly from the keyboard. They just got valuable information.

Karen’s friend was a male and he was 17.

“That’s awesome! Do you think he would be interested in becoming my friend one day?” Tim asked, perking up with excitement. He wasn’t excited about becoming friends with Karen’s owner, but instead about the fact that his tricks were working.

“Yes. You have similar interests.”

“Well,” Tim spun his chair towards the computer, completely giddy. He started typing dramatically fast as if he couldn’t control his elation. Inside he was as calm as a cucumber. “What are we waiting for?” He looked over his shoulder at the watch. “Can we find him?” He grinned.

Karen hesitated before answering. “Information on him is scarce.”

Tim frowned. “What do you mean?”

“His name won’t be of any value to you. Only his description.”

“And that is?” Tim asked.

“It does not matter, I can find him through the camera systems. All I need is for you to help me get to him when the time comes.”

Tim nodded; the AI was obviously still holding valuable information from them, but he had gained a small amount of trust.

“Ok,” He smiled. “It’s just going to take a little longer than I thought.” He muttered, making eye contact with Bruce. Silently conveying that completely gaining Karen’s trust and being able to manipulate her would take time, could be weeks before he gets anywhere but all he knew was right now, he had a good head start. Bruce subtly nodded in understanding.

Karen wouldn’t know what hit her.

Dick looked at his costume. It was still damp, and it looked like Dick was about to sneeze. “I’m going to take a shower and then probably some antibiotics. Who knows what was in that water?” Dick muttered before looking at the watch strapped around his wrist. “Uh, Karen…I don’t mean to be rude but-” Dick cleared his throat with a pout. “I would rather not shower with you.”

The blue glowing light in the watch flickered before going out. “That is alright Dick, I have temporarily removed myself from the watch so you can shower. However, when you are finished I will be reconnecting back.”

Dick nodded. Just as he started to head towards the showers, Steph bounced from the direction Dick was going into the main area of the cave.

“Holy sh*t! Look how good this looks!” Stephanie came out in a full body costume, it was red down the chest, arms and shins to the bottom of her feet, the legs and the sides that ran up the torso were blue. Red continued to accent the suit, a single line stripping across the upper arm and waist. There was a red spider centralised on the back of the costume and a small black one on the front. It stopped at her neck and wrists.

She did a twirl, her blonde hair spinning around her. “At first I thought it wasn’t going to fit because it was so loose but then when I was wiping it down, when my hand pressed the small black spider it, like-” She moved her hands towards her chest before expanding them and clenching them into fists again. “like, vwoosh. It was vacuumised!” She squealed. No one commented on her made up word, only Jason would ever tease her about it being the literature lover he is. It was something that Stephanie just did when she had so much to say, yet just desperately couldn’t explain her thoughts quick enough.

“I would show you, but uh…I’m not wearing anything under this.” She grimaced.

Damian’s face turned into pure revulsion. “You are completely naked under a costume you got out of a garbage bin and you didn’t even wash it? Are you aware of how unhygienic that is?” He said, disgusted.

Stephanie rolled her eye. “Relax spoilsport, I’m showering after this. I’ll wash the costume too.” She waved her hand mindlessly. “Don’t stress, you’ll get wrinkles. Just like your father.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. While Dick covered his laugh with a cough.

Karen suddenly spoke up into the conversation. “Where did you get that?” She asked, her voice giving nothing away as if it was just normal conversation.

Steph shrugged with a grin. “The dumpster when I was looking for you. Looks good, right? Why? You know who it’s meant to represent?” She asked, glancing over her shoulder trying to see the back of the costume.

It was quiet before Karen spoke again. “No.” She said. “I was just wondering…It looks good on you Steph.”

Stephanie grinned, while Bruce and Tim shared a glance.

Karen didn’t speak on the matter again.

Chapter 8: Too Late to Run.

Chapter Text

Peter wasn’t sure how long he limped away from the Medical Clinic for, time had started to just become an endless ticking in his head with no number. His shoes scuffled across the ground while the small bag in his hand filled with nothing, but his cans of food, toothbrush and toothpaste dangled from his hands, quietly knocking against his leg on random swings.

No matter how tough Peter’s situation was he didn’t want to grab more from the donation box. He always had the negative mental thought of ‘there are people who need it more’ and even though he had been told that no one’s problems can be compared to someone else’s he just couldn’t get out of the habit.

Although, Peter had to admit, his situation was pretty difficult right now. However, he doesn’t regret leaving the other supplies for other people. The fact the box was filled so much in the first place showed that even though this city seemed like a hell hole, good people still littered the streets, no matter how few there were.

Eventually after what felt like hours of walking in the muddy alleyways where rubbish littered the streets and cracks ran up the walls like vines, it started to open up. There was a large road in front of him, it was barricaded with chain-linked fences and barbed wire lined the top in spikey swirls. The other side was filled with continuous buildings that looked like compact apartments and small abandoned business. There were no streetlights that make roads glow, only the random bursts of light from the moon as the clouds drifted across it lit up parts of the pathways.

Peter walked closer to the fence as his spider sense started thrumming steadily. Seeing a couple of signs, he bit his lip as he read them, the paint chipped from the scuffed edges.

There was a bright red sign with a design painted black in the middle.

WARNING BIOHAZARD

The word was written in thick block writing underneath the Biohazard symbol. There were two other signs that contradicted each other, it made Peter frowned.

The first had been scratched out, Peter could barely make out the words through the deep strikes against the dented metal. A bright neon pink spray paint had vandalised a tag on the sign.

AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY

The second sign was completely clear, minus the small flakes of paint and dirt littering the metal.

PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK

The area behind the fence looked completely deserted. Small rubble was resting against some of the buildings, windows were smashed, leaving spider web designs all throughout the glass panes, an old police tape swung leisurely in the wind, ripped.

Peter looked down the distance of the fence before seeing some wires sticking out not far from him. He slowly hobbled over, using the gaps between the chain fence as something to grasp as he moved. Eventually he came across some broken wire, a small hole had been cut out, the wire clippers still lying beside the fence on the other side of Peter, completely brown with built up dirt and rust. The hole was big enough to fit a young child, maybe early teen, not big enough for Peter.

Peter looked back towards where the signs still stuck to the fence. He thought back to when Mr Stark had to test his blood due to Peter getting sprayed by a deadly poison. He remembers feeling ill, however Mr Stark said he would be completely fine in a couple of days. They had both found out that due to Peter’s spider genes he can digest toxins at a quicker paste, making it so that even though he will still be affected by it, it won’t be as lethal due to the toxin not having enough time to fully affect his body before being flushed out.

Sure, he tends to sweat a lot more, but better than being dead in a ditch.

He carefully leaned down towards the cut-out hole, flinching when his foot bent, making his wound slightly split open. He couldn’t feel any heat or dampness, so he assumed it was still closed up. With that he bent down and looked towards the wire clippers on the other side of the fence, it was pretty far from the fence but if he stretched enough, he should be able to barely grasp them.

He had a thought of using his super strength to rip the hole big enough for him to fit but with the fence not being bolted into the ground enough, he wasn’t sure if he could do that without making the fence tip over and cause a domino effect.

Peter got down towards the dirty concrete, twitching when his chest made contact with the dusty ground. He could feel the coldness seep through his clothes and onto his skin, it made him shiver. He reached through the whole, getting his head and one arm through. He crawled closer, fingers barely grazing the metal. Peter shimmed his body further into the fence, reaching out when suddenly he was jerked back.

Peter gasped, the air was sucked out of him at the unexpected movement before he looked behind him and saw his sleeve caught on one of the spiky wires. He pressed his lips together, trying to be careful as he reached towards the wire clippers again. He didn’t care too much if his shirt was slightly ripped, he was more worried about cutting himself on the wire and having the chance of getting tetanus in his bloodstream.

Peter wasn’t sure if his body could cure something that even humans couldn’t, either way he had no desire to find out.

With that he stretched his arm, feeling the ligaments strain and his shoulder ache at the force before his fingers narrowly brushed the tool. He used the tip of his fingers and cut nails to drag the tool towards him extremely slowly.

When he felt that the tool was close enough, he went to dig his fingers in to the handle of the tool, however he moved too fast and the wire cutters spun further away, his fingertips now just dusting the side of the tool.

“God dammit.” Peter mumbled. He wouldn’t be able to get the tool like this. With a sigh of defeat, he pulled himself back out of the hole in the fence, his breath freezing when the wire near his sleeve just lightly grazed against the skin of his arm before he moved it away. As he sat up, he pulled up his sleeve, his head fell back in relief at the still smooth, uncut skin.

Rolling down his sleeve Peter looked around him for something he could use to drag the tool towards him. If only he kept his web shooters, it could have made this a lot easier, but he shook the thought away. If he had kept them, he wasn’t sure if he would truly be able to put Spiderman behind him.

His eyes continuously swept around him, looking down alleys and in small crevices before coming across a bike. It wasn’t what he was looking for, but it could still be useful in a different way. He might be able to make it his main form of transport considering he didn’t have money for and type of bus and train and walking with his injuried foot wouldn’t do him any good in the long run.

He picked himself up, barely putting any weight on his foot before limping towards the bicycle, a stagger in his step made him sway.

The bike was a deep blue, rusty and filled with cobwebs. It was clearly abandoned, the pedal was rusty, the chain broken, most of it gone or stolen, leaving random parts. There was no seat and only one wheel, the wheel already on there was bent to the point of being unusable. The frame had chipped paint and dents throughout it. The handlebars were covered in webs and it looked like the wire connecting the handle and the breaks had been slit with something sharp.

Peter didn’t know much about bikes, the only time he had ever worked on one was when Uncle Ben had brought an old one home from his trip to the tip. He was only seven so he can’t remember much about how to repair it, but he knew the basics including the fact that this bike was saveable, it would just take time. He used to dumpster dive for spare parts for his small projects, so he wasn’t a beginner at knowing the best places to look. His only concern were the wheels.

Peter knew that in the dangerous areas of Queens wheels from cars and bicycles went missing all the time if you left your vehicle for long enough. It was why most people had always parked their cars in enclose spaces that were hard to get to. Maybe once he gets some cash, he could buy some second-hand wheels, or he could get lucky and find some in a dumpster. Either way, it was obvious the bike had been here alone for ages, so he was taking it.

He grabbed the broken chain from the bicycle, pulling it out of the pedal. There were only a couple inches of chain left but that could be enough to try and drag the wire clippers back. He dragged the bike behind him towards the broken fence before placing the bike down and crawling back on the floor next to it. Going towards the wheel he got a firm grip on one of the spokes of the bike before putting one foot on the bent wheel and tugging with a small amount of his super strength.

The spoke broke of the wheel, pulling it towards him and the chain. He wrapped the small amount of chain around the centre of the spoke before getting a firm grasp of the end of the chain. He grabbed the Spoke and bent both sides upwards before bending it into the shape of a hook. His heart stopped for a second when he thought he broke the spoke but then he remembered he had a bunch more of them on the bike.

He wasn’t sure if this was going to work but he could always try to bend the spoke into new shapes. Getting back down so that his chest it is lying against the dirty floor he brought his arm holding the makeshift hook through the hole first before crawling forward.

In the same position as before he made sure to be careful about that one wire that tugged on his sleeve last time before getting ready to try and swing the hook connected to the chain at the wire cutters.

The hook grasped onto the wire cutters, when Peter pulled it back towards him the hook and chain scraped across the surface of the tool’s handle before falling back to the concrete.

“C’mon, stupid thing.” He muttered, tugging the hook back towards his hand before awkwardly throwing the hook towards the tool again. He saw it grasp between the small crevice between the joint and the jaw of the wire clippers.

Peter held his breath, he felt as if one small gust of wind would dislodge the hook. He slowly tugged the tool back towards him, it started to spin slightly which caused the hook to disconnect, however it felt close enough to grasp with his hand.

Putting the makeshift hook and chain to the side of his arm he reached out, tongue sticking out of his lip in concentration. His arm once again strained against the pull before his fingers just grasped the handle of the tool.

“Yes!” Peter whispered, excited beyond relief.
As he dragged the tool towards him, sliding it along the concrete. Eventually he tugged the tool towards his chest. Moving out of the hole in the fence for the last time he pulled the rusty wire cutters towards him and raised them towards the fence.

Using a bit of his muscle to fight against the rusted joints he started cutting the fence big enough for himself and the bike. He was going to throw it over the fence but in the condition, it was in he wasn’t even sure it would survive the small journey.

It took a while for the dull cutters to get through the wired fence. It felt similar to cutting a thick rope with those safety scissors for pre-school students.

After some effort he finally cut enough for him to crawl through.

After Carefully making his way through the fence, being careful not to place his hands or knees anywhere where broken fence and sharp wires had fallen around the hole he turned around and reached for the bike. Getting a firm grip on the handlebar, he tugged it towards him, manoeuvring to get it through the fence. The only benefit of the missing front wheel was from making it easier to drag the bike through the cut hole.

As he finally dragged the bike that final part, the metal clinking and scratching against the concrete he leaned onto his back and stared up at the sky. Tugging the bike halfway on him, he took a deep breath and started at the stars above him. With his hurt shoulder and dizzy head, moving around so much was hard especially considering he hasn’t eaten anything in days due to his trip to space. He had been avoiding thinking about everything but with the sharp pains stabbing his stomach making him nauseous, he would have to eat one of his canned food soon.

The moon was a little past halfway in the sky, signalling it was around two in the morning. He wanted to close his eyes, but he knew that if he did, he wouldn’t wake up until much later and with how dangerous Gotham seemed to be already he didn’t want to risk sleeping out in the open.

Peter used his hands to help him up, keeping a firm grip on the handlebars of the bike he pushed his weight onto his uninjured foot. His shoes flopping slightly against his feet due to their size. He grabbed the wire cutters and his makeshift hook before he glanced around, if it wasn’t completely deserted and there wasn’t a warning sign and fence barricading this place of from the public it would look like a normal little neighbourhood.

As Peter quietly hobbled forward, the bicycle he was hauling behind him making enough sound for the both of them in the still atmosphere, he looked down different alleyways.

Some of the place looked mostly untouched while others didn’t, some clothes lines between certain alleyways swayed in the breeze, the clothes still pegged flapping in the wind, while other alleys had the clothes lines cut and leaning against the side of the brick walls.

Fire escapes were rusty and falling off the side of the buildings, some of the bolts obviously missing or broken. Graffiti in bright different colours painted some of the more ruined alley walls. Tags and names, faces and some…inappropriate artwork spread up over the bricks. Throughout the graffiti, every now and again he would come across the same shape, just painted differently.

A clown.

The hair was green, and the face was painted white. The eyes were wide and deep creases were painted near the eyes. On every spray-painted art of the clown he came across there was always a wide red grin, taking up half the clowns face, spreading high along the clown’s cheekbones like bloody cuts.

Peter uncomfortably straightened his shoulders as the middle of his shoulder blades tightened. He kept his head down and looked away from the creepy graffiti. Wherever he settled down around here, he was making sure it was away from any artwork that looked like that.

Eventually after some shuffling around he came across a small apartment building with only four floors. It looked still well put together, the brickwork was sturdy, there were no cracks littering the sides. Some of the windows were barricaded, however none of them were broken except for two on the third floor and one on the first floor. There was one balcony on the fourth floor, but Peter made a mental note to avoid stepping on it due to the crack that was spread along the bottom of it, the metal rails also hung, tilting slightly of the side. The front door was barged open and the handle had obviously been smashed off due to the splintered wood around it but as he stepped in the place looked stable and untouched, except for the dusty floor and one mouldy corner near the back of the hallway. Peter would stay away from that in case it was dangerous like most mould when inhaled.

Peter pushed opened a door that said, ‘staff only’ the handle was slightly stiff. Inside was a small office and some cleaning supplies. It was clearly where the landlord stayed while at the building. As Peter looked around he decided he would stash his bike in the office for now and come back after he searched the building.

He decided to start from the first floor and go up. As he went through the rooms there wasn’t really anything interesting. Most were plain and empty. Some even completely bare to the bones. He always knocked before opening the door. Making sure no one occupied the rooms, but the whole apartment building was suffocatingly quiet. It made his hair prick on its end and his breath tremble.

Eventually he got to the second floor.

The first door made his spider sense flair like an alarm for only a second. His heart thumped against his chest like a hummingbird as he raised his fist and hesitantly knocked on the door.

“Hello?” He called out, knocking again. The sophisticated golden numbers of the apartment number rusted against the wood of the door, completely dull and dirty.

Room 201.

Peter took a breath before putting his hand on the doorknob, it felt like it was burning the flesh of his palm. Twisting it, he listened to the small squeak it made from the fact it hadn’t been used in a while. His stomach dropped and his throat closed up just by looking at the golden knob.

His Spider sense blazed, and his breathing became quick, fast enough to feel dizzy. The hair on his spine raised rapidly as if it was in sync with his heart thumping hard against his chest, he felt as if he could feel it raise his skin. His arms felt like bugs with multiple spiky legs were running along his skin, their limbs digging into him.

He swallowed.

The doorknob clicked smoothly as it hit the end. Everything went quiet. He couldn’t twist it any further. The barrier between him and whatever caused his spider sense to blaze would be seen with just the slightest movement.

He started to open the door, it was barely open millimetres when his spider sense jumped.

Chapter 9: Failure

Chapter Text

He pulled the door closed, his hand letting go of the doorknob as if it burnt him. Peter’s back slammed against the dirty wall behind him, his heart pounding. Sweat beaded across his forehead as he gasped loudly. He didn’t even look into the apartment, but whatever had caused his spider sense to flare so suddenly and powerfully was something he didn’t want anything to do with.

That door was staying closed.

Peter took a deep breath, his hands shaking. He looked towards the next door, Room 202. He decided to skip that one also due to how close it was to 201. Instead making his way towards 203.

He knocked against the wood again. “Hello? Anyone here?” He called out again. No one answered which wasn’t too surprising to him. He grasped the doorknob. “I’m coming in, so don’t hit me with a baseball bat or anything.” Peter said, muttering the last part mostly to himself. The door was locked, putting in a bit of force he broke the lock inside the doorknob. The hinges quaked in the silence.

As the door opened, he got a look around the first room. A curtain was tied against the side of a window that looked out towards the neighbourhood.

There was an old burnt orange coloured couch with a small, dusty stitched up blanket that draped along the cushions and slightly fell off the side of the couch, the tussles brushed the floor, it was clearly home-made and was well loved.

A bulky box TV sat across from the couch in the corner of the room, it stood on a small stool. A rectangular, wooden coffee table was between the couch and TV. Peter moved down the hallway towards it to see what was on top of it.

There was a remote that he assumed belonged to the TV, a magazine and a half completed sudoku puzzle on the pages. The ink from a pen on the Sudoku page suddenly streaks along the page randomly, clearly whoever was writing on the page had gotten a fright or was in a rush of some sort. The magazine held a random bald man on the front cover, in a grey suit. The date of the publish magazine was November 21st, 2011. So, a little over two and a half years ago.

On the floor surrounding the coffee table were a bunch of toys, some were building blocks, others were figurines. There was a stuffed sheep also, the wool matted and grey with age.

Peter looked up from the toys, his eyes focused on the wall in front of him, it was covered in family photos. The most where of a man, woman and a baby, looking barely a month old.

Other photos filled with different people littered the wall, some that were visibly taken through different celebrations throughout the years. Such as Christmas, Easter and Thanksgiving. The photos all had a bright flash in the centre, showing that they were taken with an old camera on a tripod most likely.

Peter smiled, turning towards his left. He saw a small kitchen, granite tabletops and old wooden cabinets. It smelled disgusting making his nose scrunch. There was definitely some mouldy and off food in the cabinets and fridge. Most of the apartments except the bare ones had that. A small radio sat on top of the fridge, the antennas standing high in the air.

Next to it was a small table, with three chairs and a single highchair. On the table was a vase with flowers, they were dead and shrivelled to bones, almost non-existent due to being left with nothing for such a long time, the water they were drinking from was now mouldy.

It made Peter think about the people that once lived here. He felt as if he could see the ghosts of the homeowners wondering around the apartment as if they never left. Whether they laid on the couch, snuggled up under the blanket as they watched game shows and movies. Maybe those flowers were a gift from someone, once being well kept and treasured, now slowly rotting away.

The highchair showed that an infant lived in the small apartment once. Maybe the child’s laughter filled the home as they played on the floor, reaching their arms up for one of their parents, making them dance around with the baby in their arms, rocking in tune with the radio while the other cooked dinner near the stove, an apron strapped around their neck as they smiled.

However now all that was left was a cold, dead apartment. The only light being from the moon, the quietness making everything so still, the layer of dust showing the abandonment of the home.

It was completely lifeless.

A family once lived here in the obviously well-loved apartment and all that is left are the objects. Peter didn’t know what memories he was intruding on. This could have been someone’s dream home to settle in.

With a frown Peter turned away and walked down another hallway, there were three doors at the end. The first door he entered was a bathroom. It was mostly dusty, only holding a sink, toilet and shower. There was also a washing machine, clothes still inside. The room was small and compact with barely enough space for Peter to move.

He went towards the tap and turned it on, he didn’t expect anything to come out but after a second of the tap creaking and buzzing a small stream of water came out, it started dirty before clearing up. The water wasn’t clean enough to use especially considering the chances that it was mostly affected by whatever biohazard outbreak there was, he would have to either find a different source or boil it. There also wasn’t enough coming out from the end of the tap which meant the pipe was clogged in some way, probably built up dirt.

He turned the tap off and hobbled out of the bathroom. He went to the door across from it, opening it, he saw a small nursery. The walls were a baby blue, the wall on the right having a jungle painted on it, different animals hid in the bushes. The floor was made out of carpet, Peter assumed it was once a cream colour but was now a bland grey with random stains. There was a blue and white crib in the left corner with a mobile above it, there was a bunch of farm animals that hung from the string.

The mobile was dull, the paint losing colour over time. As he walked closer to the crib the mobile abruptly turned on, starting to spin while a small tune played. Peter jumped in surprise; his heart trembled like the wings of a hummingbird at the fright, he barely held back a swear.

Some of the notes were off pitch while it squeaked and tugged through corrode that had been infecting it. His fogged-up brain took a second for the scenario to process in his head before he realised that the mobile had motion sensors.

He looked towards the back wall, seeing a small dresser. A few photos were on the dresser, the same man, woman and baby as the ones in the living room. It was most likely their house. Peter felt bad for interfering with the sacred space of their home, but it was obvious that no one had been here for quite some time.

A small card was leant across one of the photo frames. Peter ran his fingers across the side before opening it carefully.

Edward Cashmire Elmore
Born 19 October 2011

There was a small handprint on the bottom of the page, evidently belonging to Edward.

Peter closed the small card and placed it back where he found it. He didn’t know what had happened but whatever it was it had caused this family to up and run, leaving everything behind including their precious memories.

Peter took one more look at the room before heading out towards the last door at the end of the hallway.

He opened it to see a large bed, still unmade. Clearly this was the Master bedroom. As he shuffled inside, he looked around, there were still some clothes that were lazily thrown on the floor. A dresser with a mirror sat in the corner, makeup shoved to the side, a glossy pink lipstick still had the cap off. Some jewellery was resting on a stand on the wood, each stone a deep and vibrant colour. A layer of dust covered the room just like everywhere else, a lone cobweb draped itself in the corner as if it had always been there.

Peter ran a hand through his hair, being careful of the cut on his head before he started looking through the drawers. There was nothing but clothes.

As Peter closed the last draw of the dresser when he stood back up his eyes caught the jewellery again. It was all being showcased proudly, clearly expensive. He lifted his hand and hesitantly brushed the tips of his fingers across the soulless, blue jewel of the necklace.

The necklace’s blue jewel was large and was shaped as a teardrop, it sat directly in the middle of the chain with pride. It was surrounded by a silver band before a platinum chain ran through the loop and up around the stand.

There were also a pair of earrings, the long ones that Peter only saw at some of Mr Stark’s business parties. The small crystal jewels were similar to the single train of a white peaco*ck. The earrings where sophisticated, radiating elegancy and grace.

Another piece of jewellery was a small ring. It was a gold band with a forest, green jewel on the top in the shape of a square. The jewel was a darker green in the centre before becoming light around the edges, as he looked closer, he saw delicate writing inside the band. He carefully picked the ring up and read the engraved words,

‘Forever my soulmate, my love.’

Peter twisted the ring between his fingers before putting it back, it obviously had sentimental value and last Peter checked it didn’t belong to him. He felt as if his touch had dirtied the memories of the ring, tainted them, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

The last piece of jewellery that caught Peter’s eye was a broach.

There was nothing significant about the broach, however it had Peter’s spider sense thrum in the back of his skull like you would with the strings of a guitar. It wasn’t a bad thrumming sensation either, just a warning to Peter.

It was a dark blood red stone, as he stared it looked almost as if it was glowing faintly. The broach didn’t have any set shape, it looked to be just the natural stone, surrounded by silver with a clip on the back. The stone looked jagged and rough, the surface a completely uneven mountain range of rock.

Peter took a deep breath, he stared at the dusty jewellery again. It had obviously been abandoned just like the building.

He closed his eyes and clenched his fist feeling so ashamed at the thought that just ran through his head, but no matter how hard he tried it kept returning, infesting his brain. Peter opened his eyes, gaze burning into the jewellery as he thought about his options.

He was alone in a place he had never heard of; he didn’t know whether this was a different dimension or timeline. He was homeless with barely any food, no ID and no cash.

Peter bit the inside of his cheek hard enough that he thought it was going to draw blood before swiping at the different types of jewellery and stuffing it into the small bag that held his collection of items.

The only thing he left was the ring with the engraved words, he didn’t have the heart to take that in case one day somebody comes back for it.

Peter felt his stomach swirl with guilt as his hands shook. He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing painfully.

He was a thief, he was stealing. Peter kept comforting himself with the thought that the jewellery was abandoned and that he needed it more. He could sell the jewellery for some money and be able to figure some stuff out and eventually get home.

Maybe one day Peter thought that he would be able to replace the jewellery, hoping none of it had sentimental value but no matter what he told himself, deep, sharp claws continued to dig into him, holding him hostage in a world of shame and disgrace.

He rubbed at his eyebrow, unconsciously trying to self-sooth himself. He thought back to everything that Natasha Romanoff had taught him about survival. She had told him that the most important thing he had to focus on was surviving and if that meant stealing then so be it.

Natasha had said that anything is replaceable, but his life was not.

Peter kept repeating that to himself as he listened to the jewellery rustle together in his paper bag, it was the only thing keeping him from wallowing in self-pity and regret.

Eventually he had looked through the whole room. This was one of the apartments he had come across that was furnished. It also wasn’t completely covered in cobwebs and mould, only a few here or there. The water was still working, and it was spacious. There were no cracked windows and he could barricade the front door.

The only problem was that he was so close to 201, he didn’t want his spider sense to buzz every time he walked past it. Still he decided that this apartment would be his best option for now until he searched the rest of the building later. It was late and he was starving.

He could also sleep on the couch, he wanted to be as close to the door as possible.

Peter headed back towards the couch, however as he entered a hallway that gave him the view of the small living room, he saw the back of a person’s head sitting on the couch. Peter paused in his steps.

The hair was a dark brown, it was wavy, almost considered curly. Peter could see it rest on the person’s shoulders, as he observed them all Peter thought was that this stranger’s hair looked like someone’s that he saw every day at school, it made his heart skip a beat in both excitement and fear.

“Uh…” Peter cleared his throat, watching as the stranger titled their head towards him sightly. It wasn’t enough for Peter to get a clear view of the person’s face, but it showed that the stranger was listening. They didn’t flinch or gasp when he spoke, they just sat their calmly as if Peter naturally belonged there and wasn’t a stranger that had broken in.

“Sorry if you live here.” Peter frowned. “I knocked, but you must have not been home. I’ll leave-”
The stranger stood up, their brown hair went down to the bottom of their shoulder blades, they were wearing a black jacket and jeans. When the person finally turned around to face him, Peter took a step back in shock.

Peter felt pure joy fill him, it tingled down his spine and all the way to his core. The air in his lungs was sucked out harshly enough to make him gasp and feel his stomach come up to his throat. He felt tears prick his eyes as he stared at the familiar hazel eyes of the teen in front of him.

He stumbled back, desperately scraping his fingers along the wall trying to steady himself and his thumping heartbeat.

“MJ?”

MJ stared at Peter, he watched her eyes assess him, going over his raggedy appearance before finally landing back on his face. “Peter.” She nodded.

“MJ!” Peter almost sobbed as he limped forward as fast as he could, his foot burned but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to hug one of his best friends. She felt like his saviour, a hope in the darkness. “It’s so good to see you! You have no idea what has happe-”

Just as Peter reached the couch MJ took a step back and held her hand up, palm and fingers spread open in the symbol meaning stop. Peter felt his heart shatter. “MJ? What happened? Is everyone alright? Are you hurt?”

As Peter went on babbling questions MJ just studied him, face never changing from a neutral expression.

“You know,” MJ started, cutting Peter off. “I’ve been disappointed a lot in my life Peter, to the point where I expect it.” She sucked on her teeth. “But I never thought I would be disappointed in you.”

Peter felt his breath hitch. His heart froze, “MJ? What are you talking about?” He asked, his voice watery to his own ears.

“I really trusted you Peter.” She muttered as she crossed her arms towards her chest. Her shoulders slumped. “I really thought you were the hero everyone needed. I guess I was wrong.” She shrugged.

Peter finally felt the tears streak down his face like a waterfall, carving a pathway through the small amount of dirt that probably gripped his pale cheeks. “MJ! I’m so sorry!” He cried as he took a step forward to grasp onto MJ and plead for her forgiveness. “I quit Spider-man! I already know I can’t be a hero! I promise I won’t do it again! I won’t make the same mistake!”

MJ stepped back before Peter could grasp her forearms causing Peter to pull back as if he was burned. MJ shook her head. “Open the bag Peter.”

Peter shook. “What?”

“I said open the bag.”

Peter bit his lip as he opened his small bag, it felt heavy with the jewellery, like all his mistakes were being forced into the small area, everything he has ever fought against was being shoved in his face yelling at him that he’s just as bad as everyone else out there. MJ nodded towards the couch. “Tip it out.”

Peter sniffed, wiping his nose on the back of his hand as he sat on the couch before turning the bag upside down. First the two cans of food came out, then all the jewellery he had stuffed in there along with his toothbrush and toothpaste. MJ shook her head.

“Hero to a Thief.” She sighed, “I can’t believe you.” She rubbed a hand over her face in despair. Peter felt his breathing almost stop, barely being able to suck in enough breath to keep himself conscious. “To think I thought you were special, that you were different.”

Peter pulled his arms tight around his stomach as he sobbed, his ears were ringing and the air around him felt so cold, making his skin prickle. “MJ, I’m sorry, I don’t know what else to do! I’ll make it up to you!” He gasped “I swear. Just give me another chance, please!” He begged as he focused on her face.

However, MJ continued to just stare at him before her eyes seeped into a glare, eyebrows scrunching in hatred. “You know I don’t give second chances Parker. I trusted you to save me.”

Peter froze, breath stuttering as he watched a tear fall from MJ’s eye. He had never seen MJ cry before, she was always so strong and put together, however seeing one of his best friends break apart in front of him because of something he did made him hate himself. “MJ,” He started, his voice turning into a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

“Save it Parker.” She scoffed, her voice cracking and eyes watery. “I’m dead because of you, you failed us all.”

Peter watched in horror as her skin started to turn to dust so slowly in front of him. “You failed me.”

Her breathing stuttered turning into painful garbled gasps as the dust crept closer towards her throat, making her skin crack and turn to ashes. “You failed yourself.”

Before she could fully turn to dust, she said one more thing that would haunt Peter. He collapsed on the floor, sobbing as he blindly reached for MJ who was no longer there. The words repeated in his head like a storm, causing his sobs to turn to agonising wails.

“You’re a Failure.”

Chapter 10: Gotham Library

Chapter Text

Peter felt his knuckles skim softly across something cold, he carefully cracked his chestnut brown eyes open just a slither, the dark brown of the iris becoming glazed with a golden light from the small stream of sun that shone through the window.

His vision blurred around him, completely unfocused as he stared in front of him towards a TV before his eyes moved back to the photos on the walls.

Peter couldn’t remember much from last night, it all seemed like a blur. After seeing MJ vanish in front of him all he remembers is trying to collect her ashes into his hands, desperately scraping at the floor they laid on with his fingers until his throat hurt from his screams. However, no matter how much he clawed at the dust it continuously slipped through his fingers.

That’s the last thing Peter could fully put together before his memories becomes fractured into puzzle pieces. He remembers sitting on the floor, sobbing and begging for MJ to come back. He could also remember himself wiping down the jewellery attentively as if it was worth millions before placing it all back on the stand in the master bedroom exactly as he found it.

Peter could see the burnt orange colour of the couch underneath him out of the corner of his eye, his cheek stuck uncomfortably to the surface, whether from his sweat or tears he wasn’t sure.

With his vision still blearily, Peter sat up from the couch and rubs his eyes with the hand that was laying on the floor. He feels so fatigued, as if he could sleep forever and still be exhausted. His head was pounding and despite nothing currently happening to him his breathing had a constant tremble to it.

His bones felt brittle underneath his sore muscles, even lifting his arm was similar to holding up a building. His mind was a concerning blank.

Usually something Peter struggled with was getting his brain to turn off. Thoughts and ideas would whirl around his head like a car on a racetrack constantly. Whether it be about his latest project, a new scientific breakthrough or what he had done that day, his mind was always pushing the car above and beyond the speed limit.

However, right now all that was in his head was a blue screen. It’s not that he didn’t currently have thoughts, they just weren’t processing with him.

Peter glanced around, he saw an empty can of food on the floor meaning that he had eaten last night, he could still taste the tomatoes on his tongue. He looked over his shoulder, seeing the vase with the dead flowers smashed on the floor.

Peter couldn’t remember if that was an accident or if he had done that on purpose in his fit of despair.

It also seemed he had tried to clean up his mess judging by the fact the curtain was now ripped from the bar and now on the floor, over the spilled water and broken glass.

The more he looked around him the more his memory slowly started to fit together. He picked up the empty can of tomatoes on the floor, seeing the dent in the side. Peter could remember fragments of himself sobbing out apologies to MJ while his shaky fingers tried to open the lid of the can before throwing it at the vase of flowers and listening to it thud on the floor while he saw and heard the vase shatter. That was what caused the vase to smash to shards on the floor.

Peter can also recall himself staring at the broken vase before tugging at the curtain, completely unable to control his movements, he remembers it feeling as if he was staring through a camera as he watched his body finally get a firm grip on the curtain before ripping it of the bar and then laying it down on the floor and letting it soak up the water, all while quietly whispering apologies to the vase and the flowers as if they were a person.

Peter frowned, he can’t remember how he actually got the can open in the end, but he does remember eating from it and cutting his lip on the sharp metal. He lifts his fingertips to his mouth touching the slight raise of skin then he licks his lips feeling the unpleasant sting of the cut.

He doesn’t know whether what he saw was real last night or not but based on the fact there was no ash or dust around him he can assume it was all in his head. With a defeated sigh Peter gained as much strength needed to push himself of the couch, grabbing his small bag he headed towards the bathroom, his foot burning at the movement.

Peter yawned as he took his tooth paste and brush out of the bag, he wanted to get rid of the fuzzy sensation in his mouth. Uncapping the toothpaste, he put a small amount on the toothbrush before putting it under the tap. Just as he was about to twist the faucet handle, he paused thinking back to the dirty water from yesterday. With a small grimace he decided to brush his teeth without the water.

As Peter went through the motions of brushing his teeth, hearing the bristles work against the bone he looked at his reflection in the mirror above the basin.

The cut on his forehead was healing slower than usual due to the lack of nutrients in his body, however it should be done in a couple of days. The cut on his lip was small enough that his body wouldn’t focus on healing it until the bigger wounds on his foot and forehead were healed first.

The skin around his eyes were red and puffy from crying, he blinked tiredly at the redness in the white of his eye. His cheeks were slightly pale, and he had deep bags under his eye. Dirt and caked blood ran along his face and forehead.

He didn’t look healthy.

After brushing his teeth for way longer then he needed he spat out the toothpaste, the white foam dripped from the side of the basin. He turned on the tap to wash the toothpaste down the drain.

Peter wasn’t going to wash his toothbrush under the water nor his face especially with the cut on his lip. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to use his hands because he wasn’t sure whether or not he touched the mouldy water from the vase when cleaning it up. Instead he scratched at the crusted blood while wiping his forehead down with his arm, avoiding his mouth.

This wasn’t a major problem compared to the rest of his situation but right now it felt like his world was about to end, maybe because it was due to the fact that he couldn’t even wipe toothpaste from his mouth without being in danger.

He couldn’t tell what he should avoid and what he shouldn’t because his spider sense was constantly buzzing quietly, tingling his spine from the biohazard.

Peter chose to just wipe his face on the corner of his shirt with a deep breath, grimacing at the stain that was now on his only set of clean clothes, maybe eventually he could find a laundromat once he gets himself a steady income, that is if he can.

Peter decided not to wipe his toothbrush on his shirt in case the reason for the biohazard had stuck to his clothing.

If that was how this biohazard operated, then his toothbrush being out in the open wasn’t a good idea but considering he had it in a concealed bag 80% of the time made him hope that it wasn’t as bad as the rest of his things. He also hoped that due to the cut on his lip no longer bleeding it won’t be infected by his shirt as quickly and that he can find a way to clean it with water or a first aid kit, if worse comes to worse he would just have to rely on his spider genes to keep the cut from getting infected.

Peter threw his toothbrush and toothpaste back into his bag before running a hand through his hair, it wasn’t as greasy as he expected due to the fact Titan was such a dry place, but it definitely needed a wash.

As he hobbled out of the bathroom, he looked around the apartment before limping out the door. Peter wasn’t sure whether or not he would come back due to the memories that he now associated with the apartment but just in case he did he made sure to pull the door closed.

He headed for the staircase, flinching as his spider sense jumped and body shook when walking past door 201. He was so curious about what was behind that door but still decided it was better to mind his business for once.

Peter limped down the staircase before heading towards the door to the office where he stashed his bike. As he opened the door, he saw the blue, beat up bike still where he left it making his sigh in relief at the fact no one had stolen it. No matter how isolated this place seemed he couldn’t be too careful.

Closing the door behind him carefully he limped out and headed back towards the chain-linked fence that he had come through.

Eventually seeing the small hole he cut out, he crouched back down to crawl through. Peter felt his foot burn at the stretch but ignored it, he would have to check his foot later due to the strain he has put it through.

Peter had a plan for today, even though at first, he decided to avoid the library because of what Red Robin had said he needed information and the computers were usually free for use at libraries.

He wanted to find out where he truly was. Considering he had never even heard of Gotham he has no clue what he was dealing with, he also wanted to figure out if there was a way home to Queens, but before making that trip, he had to learn whether this was his timeline or not. Otherwise his journey would just be a waste of time.

Peter was cursing those stupid stones and that stupid Thanos, if he ever comes across that asshole again, he has some R rated stuff to say.

Eventually after limping around he slowly came across streets that were filling with people. He made sure to remember his pathway back by using the graffiti on the walls as landmarks.

Swallowing he went up to a random person in a baseball hat to ask for directions towards to Library.

“Uh, Excuse me.” Peter asked quietly, his voice cracking making his cheeks redden in embarrassment. The man just raised his eyebrow from where he was leaning against the wall. Even though Peter didn’t get a verbal reply he still continued with his question.

“Do you know where Gotham Library is please? It’s okay if you don’t. I just don’t know where I am.” Peter mumbled, his words rushing out. The man stared at him before grinning. “Yeah, kid.” He lifted his arm to point down the street. “Right down there, then take a right. You will see it, looks like a museum.”

Peter nodded thanking the man before limping in the directions. The streets were becoming packed making Peter swerve throughout the crowd mumbling continuous apologise when accidently knocking shoulders with someone, Gotham looked a lot more better off here. Small businesses lined up the sidewalks, the streets were a lot cleaner from rubbish, it just looked livelier overall compared to the quiet streets he had been walking around in before.

He eventually saw the museum like building with the words ‘GOTHAM LIBRARY’ printed on the top in stone. Two lion statues sat beside the stairs that led up towards the library like a guardian guarding the knowledge and people inside. Peter finally sighed in relief before hobbling up the stairs towards the door.

When he walked in the first thing he saw was books. Not surprising.

However, the bookcases were double his height, reaching high up towards the roof of the building. The floor was in a white and black checkered pattern, the tiles were glossy under his feet, so clear he felt he could see his own reflection. There were lights hanging from chains from the tall ceiling, reaching down towards the ground, lamps also hung from the walls and sat on tables that littered the library.

He walked up to the front desk, seeing a woman no older than her late teens sitting at the counter. Her hair looked silky smooth, almost glowing from the hanging lights that lit up every shadow and crevice. Her eyes were looking down towards the computer screen, her head rested on her hand as she randomly clicked the mouse.

Peter walked up to the counter causing her to drag her attention from the computer screen towards his form. She smiled, “Hey, how can I help?”

Peter licked his lips, holding a flinch at the familiar sting of the cut. He looked down towards the name badge that was clipped to her yellow shirt. “Your name is Lyss?”

She raised her eyebrows with a smirk before looking at her nametag also, “Uh, yep that’s what it appears to say.” She nodded, tapping the badge.

Peter squinted his eyes while tilting his head. “Is that short for Alyssa?” He asked.

She shrugged, “I don’t know, what do you think?”

Peter just stared. “I don’t know what to think.” He muttered as he just stood there dumbly while her eyes looked him over.

“I see you have been busy.” She grinned looking at his shirt. Peter scrunched his eyebrows before following her gaze towards the white stain on his shirt from his toothpaste. His cheeks immediately burned red.

“It’s not what you think.” He gasped, mortified as he raised his hands. She smiled, leaning back in her chair, fiddling with a blue pen. “I didn’t say what I think.” Lyss smirked.

Peter let his confusion show at the conversation. It wasn’t the strangest one he has ever had but it defiantly was up there.

“Well…” Peter started; his shoulders went up to his ears as he stumbled over his words in embarrassment. “What did you think?”

Lyss grinned, all teeth. “I don’t know.” She said, crossing her legs, her blue jeans on display. “What do you think?”

Peter just sighed, he would rather not wonder what she thought the white stain on his shirt, it was nice to have a playful conversation with someone after being in such a serious mindset for so long, it helped him feel like he could finally breath. He smiled. “I don’t know what to think.”

She finally laughed causing Peter’s body to relax. “Can I please use the computers?” He asked.

Lyss nodded pointing towards the direction of the computers. She smiled, this time her words were quiet. “I don’t know, what do you think?”

Peter’s mouth twitched into a smile. “I think I can.”

Lyss’s head bobbed in agreement. “Good answer.”

Peter finally turned and headed towards the computers.

As he sat down in the hard chair, he went to move the mouse, the screen lit up. Peter typed in the code for guests that was provided behind the computer, when he finally logged in an unfamiliar desktop background of a brand came up. He just ignored it, instead clicking on the screen that popped up with a search bar.

The first thing he searched was Iron Man. Of course, results came up but nothing about the Iron Man he knew showed. Instead he chose to search Tony Stark, all that came up were social media pages of random people.

He frowned, the fact that the famous Tony Stark he knew didn’t come up made his stomach drop. He felt his heart quicken as he started typing in other celebrities and major events that happened in his timeline.

Only a few came up while the others were as if they never existed.

The last thing he searched was the famous battle of New York. It would have happened two years ago based on the fact he is now in 2014, however nothing came up. His head fell back with the realisation that he was in another dimension.

Peter felt as if his heart wasn’t beating and his body become dead weight in the chair, as if he was losing control of himself. It made him panic internally when suddenly something rubbed against his leg causing him to snap out of the dream like state.

Peter looked down seeing a cat. It was fully black with blue eyes, rubbing up his leg, Peter pushed his chair away from the desk to pat his thighs, smiling as the cat got ready to jump before landing on his lap and kneading the fabric on his pants with its cut claws. The cat had a pink colour on with a bow tie, a small bell hanging at the front.

“Oh, I see you have met Kiki.”

Peter’s heart skipped a couple beats as his body sprung up at the small fright he had got.

“Sorry,” The stranger apologised, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Peter turned away from the computer and looked over at a woman with bright red hair that flowed down her shoulders. Her skin was pale, and she had high cheek bones. Her eyes were a crystal blue, framed by glasses. She had a white blouse on and was sitting in a wheelchair.

“It’s alright.” Peter smiled, “I was just daydreaming.”

The woman smiled before pointing to her name tag. “I’m Barbara, but you can just call me Babs,” She said, waving her hand dismissively.

“Peter.” He smiled. The realisation that this was the second person to know of his name in this dimension made his breath hitch uncomfortably. It just showed him how alone he was, all by himself with no one to go to.

A furry head bumped against his cheek, nuzzling into his neck and bringing him back into the present.

“I hope you aren’t allergic to cats, Peter.” Barbara grinned with a tease. Peter shook his head. “Nah, there was a stray that use to live behind our apartment, my Aunt and I would always make sure to feed him even though the cat probably would have scratched our eyes out if we didn’t bring treats.”

Barbara nodded in sympathy. “Yeah, Kiki and her sibling where strays also, took a while for them to come around, but my ex’s youngest sibling is pretty stubborn when it comes to animals. Spent hours just sitting out on the street trying to lure the cats with treats.” Barbara sighed fondly, slowly reaching over towards Kiki, smiling when the cat pressed the top of her head into the offered hand, showing complete trust.

“Eventually they came around and he got them the support they needed to heal. Now they are emotional support animals and love people more than anything.”

Peter smiled, running his hand down the cat’s back, his smile twitching into a slight frown at the raised skin from scars most likely caused from living in the streets.

Peter looked at Barbara again, “You mentioned Kiki’s sibling?”

Barbara nodded, pointing towards another section of the library. There were a bunch of couches and books on low shelves, there was a colourful mat on the floor and fantasy paintings of mushrooms and trees painted the walls.

Children were scatted about, some laying on their stomachs with books while others sat on the bean bags and talked. It was obvious that some lived on the street trying to get shelter from the dark alleys of Gotham while others lived in homes. It was clearly a kid’s corner.

Right at the centre, on a round couch with kids surrounding it was another cat, clearly enjoying the praise of the children as they patted the animal’s fur. The cat lazed around, tail swishing as they soaked up the attention. Peter could see the hint of orange in the cat’s fur around their neck, clearly the collar.

“That’s Kitkat. Only difference between the two is that Kitkat has a white spot on the back of her back-right foot. She tends to stay in the kid’s corner because they shower her with affection. Loves it.” She laughed.

Peter smiled at the cat before looking back at Kiki that was now purring on his lap. “Are they here often?” He asked.

Barbara tilted her head, pouting her lips in thought, “Kinda, they are here every Tuesday, Friday and Sunday. So, they won’t be here tomorrow because it’s Tuesday.”

Peter nodded. “I’m glad they got off the street.”

“Me too.” Barbara smiled, “This your first time in the Library? I don’t recognise you.”

Peter paused before stuttering out a reply. “Uh, I just moved here. So, I’m just looking some stuff up.”

Barbara nodded in understanding, “Alright, let me know if you need anything, there are pamphlets at the front with different information.” She mentioned, gesturing towards the front desk. “Lyss is there, she will help you out.”

Peter grinned, “I met her actually. We had a very…unique conversation.” He muttered, trying to find the right words for the interaction. Barbara exhaled through her mouth, shaking her head. “Honestly? Not surprised, she definitely has character. She volunteers here every now and again.”

“Oh, I see.” Peter smiled.

Barbara started to move her wheelchair. “Anyway, I’m going to check on the kids, just let me know if you need anything.”

Peter beamed while bobbing his head, his hand stroking the back of the cat that was still purring like a motorbike on his lap. “Will do.”

As Barbara wheel away Peter looked at the computer again, putting his fingers on the keys. It was time to find out everything he could about Gotham and the biohazard he currently is living in.

Chapter 11: Answers

Chapter Text

Peter cracked his knuckles while taking a deep breath, for the first time today he felt truly nervous. He didn’t feel scared or sad nor did he feel hopeful. He just felt nervous.

He put his fingers on the keyboard, fingers hesitating before swiftly typing in the search bar.

Gotham.

Millions of results came up, however he just kept to the top articles.

Gotham is a city in the state of New Jersey with a population of over 10 million, being seen as one of the smaller cities in New Jersey.

It was first built in 1635 with the original founders being the Waynes, the Cobblepots, the Elliots, the Arkhams, and the Kanes.

It is home to some of the wealthiest people on the planet and holds famous companies that are now worldwide.

Gotham is notoriously known for being one of the most dangerous places on Earth with crime rates at an average of 690.05.

However, it is famed for the vigilantes that work during the night, even though vigilantism is illegal, the popular group are appreciated and well valued throughout most of Gotham’s civilians.

The main and most prestigious vigilante is known as Batman, being the original and source of all vigilantes in Gotham. The fabled symbol of a bat on all the chests of any vigilante associated to Batman. It is assumed that Batman has trained and worked with every vigilante that works in Gotham.

Gotham is also known for its infamous villains and the constant ongoing gang and criminal lifestyle. The one most feared is The Joker, known to terrorise Gotham, being known for his white clown face and signature, red, grin.

Peter ended up backtracking, he had three major things he wanted to search before anything else.

The vigilantes, The Villains and the Biohazard he lives in.

He decides to search in that order.

Red Robin Gotham.

He taps his finger against the mouse while waiting for the results. When they finally load, he clicks the first link.

Red Robin is a vigilante that is seen around Gotham during the dead of night, the vigilante is considered to be a part of Batman’s horde. Conspiracy theories suggest that Red Robin is either the fourth Robin.

Peter raised his mouse over the hyperlink before deciding to come back to it.

It has never been confirmed when Red Robin had their debut, but they first surfaced around the late months of 2012; however, people suspect the vigilante was active a lot longer and just kept out of the limelight.

Red Robin has had many outfits throughout their time on the field, currently the vigilante’s outfit consists of r-

Peter started scrolling, he already knew all about that.

Based on these resources it is assumed that Red Robin’s age is between 17-23 years old. However, this has never been confirmed. The vigilante is known for their humour, yet serious façade whenever needed.

Peter continued to scroll until he finally came across something worth his time.

Despite not wearing the signature bat on their outfit Red Robin’s relationships within the vigilante community seem positive, they have been seen helping all the vigilantes including, Batman, Robin, Nightwing, Red Hood, Spoiler, Black Bat, Signal and members of the Justice League along with rarely being seen within other vigilante groups within the community.

Bloody hell, Peter was going to be here for a while.

~~~

After hours of searching different vigilantes and villains Peter finally moved on to the final thing on his list.

The biohazard.

Gotham Biohazard City.

Millions of search results came up in seconds, Peter felt his brain flood with each link that continued to pop up. He decided to click on the one that was obviously a news article of the event.

The Destruction of Arcade Passage
Written by Shiki Magica
Published: 29th March 2012
Last edited: 3rd January 2013

Peter scrolled down.

Arcade Passage, (Now nicknamed 1800-Bomb Street or no man's land by locals) was one of the biggest sections in Gotham with a population of over 46 thousand. Now however, it has been abandoned and removed from Gotham’s official map. Bordered of from society.

On the 27th of November 2011 at 4:21am, hundreds of 911 calls were reported from Arcade Passage. When Police arrived at the scene there was panic everyone.

The Joker and Scarecrow, two of Gotham’s most feared and major villains were scene collaborating in an attack of Arcade Passage, Joker had provided the materials needed for Scarecrow to make his infamous fear toxin into gas bombs that fell from the sky, exploding on impact and realising fear toxin to the public. While Joker and his group of loyal followers’ spray painted his face onto the walls. (A white clown with a large smile and green hair. Photos can be found here.)

Peter paused, remembering the graffiti of the clown on the alley walls. He remembered the shiver up his spine and uncomfortable tingle in his ribcage when he saw it before moving on. To think that was the face of the villain that destroyed Arcade Passage, the town he was living in.

Peter let his head fall back onto the chair in thought. It felt like the clown was still haunting the Passage, the grin in the paint grinning proudly at the destruction he had caused, a constant torment.

The cat on his lap rubbed her face into Peter’s stomach, bringing him back to the present. He smiled down at Kiki in gratitude and continued to brush his fingers through the fur.

After a minute of gathering his thoughts, focusing on the soft strands between his fingertips, Peter sucked in a breath and continued to read.

Witnesses say that Scarecrow was seen in the distance on a rooftop.

‘The f*cker was laughing at us all while we ran around like headless chickens’
-Anonymous

‘When I realised it was all over, I felt like a guinea pig used for a sick science experiment.’
-Anonymous

‘When they finally get what is coming from them, I’ll laugh over their graves, give that green haired freak a taste of his own medicine.’
-Anonymous

‘I was so scared. I saw my mother die, over and over due to that fear toxin. I will never forgive them.’
-Anonymous

There were over 19 thousand casualties and around 3 thousand deaths. 7 thousand people are still missing to this day. Search parties went on for months after the attack and rebuilding for Arcade Passage started instantly, however it was all put to a stop when toxin results came back saying that the air was contaminated with fear toxin, somehow merging into the oxygen around the area. Therefore, it was deduced that the toxin was airborne.

Peter had been breathing in fear toxin, he wasn’t sure how to feel. His heart broke over the amount of people that were affected by the event, he could never relate or understand how the victims feel considering he was never a part of the attack, nor was he affected but because that even if he was everyone feel differently about certain things.

He can’t compare his situations towards that one, like the Battle of New York with the Chitauri and Loki for example but he can say he has been in a similar position before.

Search Parties were ceased, and evacuation of Arcade Passage started immediately, most were able to get out of the city quickly and find a new place to reside, however some refused to leave their homes and was later forced into moving, others now live on the streets of Gotham in other areas, a big rise of homelessness in The Narrows become obvious after the attack. Even so, it is said that there are still a scarce few that roam the streets of Arcade Passage to this day.

Now all that is left of Arcade Passage is abandoned buildings, construction work and rubble. Fear Toxin has been confirmed to slowly sink into objects leaving many to abandon their belongings. This would have been avoided however, if scientist caught on to this quicker due to it taking weeks but by the time it was discovered the damage was already done even if fear toxin is not spread by touch the objects had let out invisible particles into the air. It has been reported that washing the objects would get the contamination out, however there is no use when it is on such a big scale.

Despite the heartbreak and distraught Peter felt, he also felt great relief. He let out a sigh and found himself slumping in the chair at the realisation that his clothing or supplies weren’t yet contaminated with the toxin. Of course, he wasn’t sure if things such as toothpaste or food were infected but he was already breathing the toxin anyway. It also wasn’t passed through touch; Peter hadn’t even thought of that before petting the cat but now he felt great reassurance.

The effects of the toxin were catastrophic, causing many to be hospitalised due to becoming a danger to themselves or others. People under the toxin were told to be screaming, fighting and pleading for constant help.

It took weeks for the effect to fully wear off, some even experiencing lifelong side effects, such as constant nightmares, hallucinations and paranoia. Hospitals were packed at this time and it created a major disturbance in the community.

Bruce Wayne, Katherine Kane and an Anonymous all donated large amounts of money after the incident and helped provide funding for hospitals to be able to house the victims.

Peter took a deep breath of the fresh air around him, reminding himself that the air wasn’t contaminated. He felt great relief for his spider genes being able to flush toxins out quicker. The amount he has breathed would be fatal if it wasn’t for the fact, he was able to process the toxins quicker than most, leaving him with small doses of the toxin constantly.

However, if he is breathing constant small doses, he didn’t even want to think about what the victims saw under the gas.

To this day Arcade Passage is still closed of and the contaminated area is boarded of, far enough away that the airborne toxin can’t reach the fence before being filtered out naturally. However, it is still very much alive and still in action in Arcade Passage. Scientist continue to check the fear toxin levels once a year but say that it could take over a century before even becoming liveable.

Peter frowned and closed the tab. He felt better at having answer to his hallucination and to be able to understand what he was living in but it still made him slightly anxious.

Even so, until the effects became unbearable, he decided that if he does stay in the apartment he will continue searching the apartment and swapping out along with washing his clothes in a continuous routine to keep from being contaminated from the toxin.

He felt a lot better at being able to confirm it wasn’t truly MJ talking down on him, it also made him realise that he could see the jewellery. Of course, it was still stealing and even though his hallucination was right it had been abandoned for over two years. With that he closed the tab and started hobbling towards the exit, stopping quickly by the door to look at the pamphlets.

There were a few on shelters, different organisations and charities in the community, fun events, information of vigilantes and villains and maps of Gotham.

He ended up taking the ones with extra information on the vigilantes and villains along with a map of Gotham and a couple of the organisations. There were a few on homeless shelters where he could maybe get a supply of few but right now he was mostly focused on the map.

Next to the pamphlets there was a bulletin board in cased with sliding glass. On the board were a bunch of job offers, local town advertisem*nts and a small “Drawing of the week” With a picture of…something.

Peter tilted his head. He couldn’t tell if it was a cactus or a group of pickles.

“It’s an octopus in the ocean.” A familiar voice said to his right. Peter glanced with a smile at Aunt May before looking back at the picture.

Wait.

Peter looks back towards Aunt May fast enough that he hears the bones in his neck cracked together.

No one was there.

This wasn’t as bad as the situation with MJ, Peter couldn’t tell if this was the last dose of the fear toxin finally running out of his system or if this is a side effect, maybe under hallucinations? Or Paranoia?

Peter rubbed his lips together before glancing back at the board. Rubbing his nose his eyes catch a certain flyer.

SalzMit and Wasser’s Pawn Shop of Goodies
We buy Gold and Silver!
Open Mon-Sat 9am-10pm
36 CWN Avenue, East End of Gotham
Phone number: ##########

The address was at the bottom, he pulled up his map seeing East End. It was in between both the apartment where the Jewellery was and Gotham Library. He stared at the section highlighted East End, reading all the small roads and alley ways that connected in circles before finally finding CWN Avenue.

It was going to be a long walk back to the apartment then all the way back to the Pawn shop but he needed the cash. With a sigh he glances at the big clock in the Library

2:13pm

Ok, he had awhile.

With that Peter hobbled out of Gotham Library and started following the map back towards where he assumed Arcade Passage once was, now on the map it was a deep red with black lines going across the section diagonally. It was only a small section and Peter wondered how it housed so many people at one stage before remembering how the apartments were packed close together and the alleyways between each building were narrow. Arcade Passage was a few blocks away from Neo-Eden and a few blocks away from Gotham Library, fitting snug in between.

Eventually Peter was able to use the map to find a quicker way back to the chain link fence, even though he had to take a small detour due to one of the alleys being blocked from dumpsters and with his bad foot he didn’t want to climb the fire escape.

Using the fence he once again grabbed it in a firm hold and used it to pull himself towards where he knew the hole was located, the area around him had become familiar in his brain and that brought him a lot of comfort, even though it was a small part of Gotham, just a few alleyways and streets it was better than not knowing of his location and how to find his way back to anywhere, just walking in circles.

When he finally comes across the hole he lays down to crawl through, it felt different doing it during the day where people can see him in broad daylight. It made Peter feel as if he was breaking a law of some kind, trespassing if you will.

However he remembers the sign had said ‘Procced at your own risk’ and even though it looked as if it was made by just a group of random people, bolted on to the fence and the ‘Authorised personnel only’ was spray painted over no one had bothered to remove the sign anyway.

Limping through the streets he felt his stomach drop to every time he came across the graffiti of the clown. It made this place feel as if it was conquered permanently, like the clown painting was the flag of the enemy, raised proudly in the sky.

It made Peter feel lightheaded with sickness.

He continued to move slowly towards the familiar building, nothing had changed about it except that on the second floor there was no longer the curtain tied up on the side. When Peter had ripped that curtain, he had taken the ability to give the apartment privacy from the watchful eyes outside, it was now on display for anyone that wishes to look inside.

Peter felt like he had definitely invaded the owner’s home beyond repair.

With a sigh he staggered through the front door again, quickly glancing in the office to see the blue bike and then limping up the stairs, one at a time. Finally he felt that dread flood over him like a cold shower when he came close to apartment 201, with a stomach full of moths he just swiftly limps past it back to 203.

The apartment hadn’t changed from how Peter had left it. The vase was still smashed to pieces on the floor, the home-made blanket was still hanging of the couch, the small empty can still sit on the floor.

Peter ignored all of this and headed towards the master bedroom, finding the jewellery just as he had put it. All of it still sparkled, glinting as if there was a constant light casted upon it.

Peter delicately picked up the pieces before putting them in his paper bag. He knew he would eventually come back to the building for his bike, maybe to look for more jewellery but he wasn’t sure if he would ever come back to this apartment again even though he probably will based on the fact it had shelter but it might take him a minute to get his bearings.
He deeply exhales before limping back out the door, hesitating in front of the nursery. He didn’t have the guts to search whether or not the baby was alive after the attack and he may never know but he decided to do something before he left.

Peter had no right to do this, but it felt right to him, like he was passing on a gift to the baby from the parents. Of course, they could all be alive but in case they weren’t Peter wanted to do this last thing.

Heading back towards the Master Bedroom he picked up the ring with the engraved words still written inside. The dark green jewel sat proudly on top.

Peter hobbled back towards the nursery, his heart was breaking at he carefully entered the nursery once again, feeling as if he was disturbing the peace but he needed to do this even if he didn’t have the privilege nor the consent to move the couple’s things.

Crossing the nursery, he delicately placed the ring against the small card that still rested on the photos of the family. It felt like he had put a small family back together, whether dead or alive.

He looked back at the photo of the small family. “I’m so sorry.” Peter quietly whispered into the room; however, he knew the family would never receive his words.

With one last glance around the room he left, carefully pulling the nursery door closed, hopefully to be forever undisturbed except from the family themselves one day.

Chapter 12: The Pawn Shop

Chapter Text

After following the map, it was around sunset when Peter had finally found his way in front of the Pawn Shop. It took him awhile to get to the shop with his cut-up foot, but he had managed, making sure to check the wound before leaving the apartment for probably the last time. It was healing alright, but it needed a new bandage wrapped around it desperately.

Peter had to just use the same dirty bandage due to his lack of resources, but he was certainly going to try and find some sort of first aid kit.

Peter mentally shook his too do list away to focus on the present, he looked at the shop in front of him. It was a small run of the mill store, the name of the Pawn shop was painted in a bright gold, a lit up open sign hung from a hook on the door, a few of the lights flickering in and out.

There was a bike rack at the front, Peter kept that information in the back of his mind as a reminder to look out for bike parts. After all it was a pawn shop, they can be seen as a treasure chest filled with goodies to some people.

The walls were made of brick with black painted beams running up the side. The door frame was painted black also, the glass naturally becoming weathered over time.

Peter opened the door, a small bell rung on the top notifying the store of his arrival. The first thing he noticed was that the small shop was filled left to right with different objects, from tools to trinkets to antiques and more. There were cases in the centre of the store also, presenting different items. Weaving throughout the different cases were pathways that looped around, however the store was currently empty.

Peter looked around at the walls, all the walls were a deep red with the one accent wall being a faded floral wallpaper, the flowers blooming into dull roses and sunflowers with random dots painted in between the elegant petals.

The floor was just a plain, grey cement. Around the back he could see the start of hardwood planks placed before cutting of randomly, either Peter had no idea about designing or the owner just decided to stop the project halfway through for whatever reason. Large lights were bolted into the roof causing a bright glow across the whole store, it made Peter’s eyes slightly sting from the shine of it.

There was a man in the back of the store behind a counter with buff arms and a plain, light blue singlet. The man had a tattoo of what looked to be a dragon surrounded by roses that went up his bicep towards his shoulder. There was a large scar going from under his ear to his collarbone, it had rippled along the skin like a Grand Canyon.

The man had only glanced at Peter in the corner of his eye before looking back up at the tiny TV that sat on the wall, the voices from whatever the man was watching were the only sounds in the store.

Peter held his head down as he limped towards the front of the counter, his eyes straying around to the different objects that sat in the cabinets. When he finally reached the counter with a thud in his step, he could smell the smoke from a cigarette, looking up he saw that the man’s mouth was shaped into a strong frown with the small cancer stick hanging from his lips.

The man took his cigarette out of his mouth between his middle and pointer finger before stubbing it out in the ash tray on the counter. He had a scruffy beard that framed his face and dark brown hair that was pushed back with a few stray wisps that sat clumsily on his forehead.

“How can I help ya kid?” The man asked, pushing his shoulders back. His voice was deep and raspy, his eyes calculating.

“Uhm, hi.” Peter mumbled. “I saw on a flyer that you take jewellery and I have some I need to sell.”

The man looked Peter over, paying attention to the wound on his forehead and Peter’s scruffy appearance. He raised an eyebrow, “Alright, lemme see it.” He nodded.

Peter pursed his lips while he reached into his bag, his fingers gripped a handful of the jewellery that almost look as if it was blinding under the strong lights. The man lifted his fingers towards the jewels, pulling out a device he started to wave it above the pieces of jewellery.

With each piece of jewellery, he waved the device over, every beep made his eyebrows raise higher and higher each time as he looked at the small screen on the device.

“sh*t, kid. Where tha hell you get these?”

Peter fumbled; his shoulders slumped in towards his chest. “My uh, Great Grandmother just past. The jewellery was past to me in her will, told me to sell it for money for my future.” Peter muttered, scratching near his mouth with the lie as his eyes drifted away from the man. He felt as if the man could see right through his fib.

Peter had the bad habit of avoiding eye contact when he lied, Mr Clint had tried to get him to break the habit but it just stuck to the point where Mr Clint had just told him to never make eye contact when being interrogated, but that just caused Peter to stutter and his pitch of voice to almost become shrilling when he let out a fib.

In the end Mr Clint just told him that he lied perfectly fine as he did before.

“Mhm,” The man said, putting the earrings down. “She also give ya a box of chemicals too? These gems be coated in the stuff.” The man said gruffly.

Peter pretended to be surprised “Wait, really?” He asked as he stood straighter in false confusion. “Do you know what type?”

The man shook his head, waving a hand over the jewellery dismissively. “Nah, can only tell it be doused in it.” He sighed as he rubbed his forehead.

Peter crossed his arms defensively, shrinking on himself under the man’s gaze that was filled to the brim with his suspicion.

“Well,” Peter started, “Can you still by it? Or is it unsellable.” He questioned as he ran his tongue along his teeth.

The man paused just glaring at Peter before exhaling deeply. “Still buyable just less of tha final total.”

Peter nodded. “Alright, how much is it all worth then?”

The man looked the pieces over, holding them close to his eyes and reflecting of the light in different ways, eventually coming to a conclusion.

“The necklace is good quality, I’ll give ya seventy-five bucks for that, the rest? Fifty. Don’t want the broach though. That ain’t worth sh*t.” The man said, gesturing his head to the broach with the red stone still inside.

“Oh ok,” Peter mumbled, picking up the broach. “Do you at least know what type of rock it is?”

The man shook his head, “Nah Kid, never seen anythin’ like it. Real dull though. Won’t get me or ya a pretty penny.”

“Alright,” Peter said as he put the broach back in his paper bag. “So, all of this-” He gestured on all the jewels on the table. “Is worth $125?”

The man tilted his head a bit. “All together? Way less but I can tell ya need the extra buck.”

Peter bit the inside of his cheek, “I don’t need pity.” He mumbled. However, the man just shrugged. “It ain’t pity, just a little support.”

Peter nodded before the man suddenly leaned on to his forearms over the counter. “Listen, ya seem like a nice kid. So, I’m telling ya now it’s obvious this sh*t ain’t yours.” He frowned at Peter. “Don’t know where ya got it from, don’t care. This is how it goes in ma store. You sell stolen sh*t to me? I’ll buy without askin’ any questions, but the second the boys in blue show up I ain’t saving your ass for nothin.”

The man lowers his voice. “I’ll dob ya in real quick, I ain’t lookin’ to be back on tha other side of the law ‘gain. So, I’m warnin’ ya now. What’s it gonna be kid?”

Peter frowned, really thinking this through. As he scrunched his eyebrows, he thought about the position he was in and it wasn’t like anyone was going to notice the jewellery missing anytime soon. He swallowed, he felt like they could both hear the saliva go down his throat. “I’ll like to sell them please.”

The man nodded at Peter. “Hope ya know what ya doing kid.”

Peter intellectually decided that it was probably not a good idea to tell the man he had no idea what he was doing.

“Thanks, sir.” Peter smiled at the man.

The man nodded, as he handed over the cash all in notes. “No problem, kid.”

“Also is there any 24/7 shops around?” Peter asked, rubbing the notes between his fingers.

The man nodded, “Yeah, just around tha block. Want me to give ya directions?” He asked, pulling his shoulders back.

Peter pulled out his map and placed it on the counter, using his hand to smooth it down. Creases went along the paper from where he had folded it. “Can you give me directions on here, please?”

The man looked at the map before picking up his pen. “Sure kid, want me to draw out symbols on the all the ‘round the clock stores, ‘round here?” The man asked, turning the page towards him.

Peter widely smiled at the man, his head bobbing quickly. “Yes please, that would be helpful.”

“Alright kid, see here?” He pointed at the page with the tip of his pen, “This is where ya are. Now, down ‘round here.” The man hovered his pen, gong down a few different streets on the map before drawing a small cross next to a road on the map.

“That be the closest 24/7 store from here.” The man started drawing small crosses all around the area that they were in, they were messy and spaced out. “All those x’s? Different 24/7 stores.” He glanced back at Peter. “If ya are livin’ on tha street kid, don’t stray round them unless necessary. Crims tend to stay ‘round tha store, waitin’ for peeps to come out after buyin’ sh*t.”

The man turned the map around before writing on the page.

✱ – 24-hour stores

He turned the back of the map around towards Peter. “This your legend kid, know what they are?”

Peter nodded.

“Good, whenever ya come across somethin’ ya wanna note down, draw a symbol and write it on tha back of tha page, ya feel me?” The man asked, raising an eyebrow at Peter.

“Yes sir, I will.” Peter grinned as the man flipped the page back over and passed it back to Peter, rolling him the pen also. “Keep tha pen kid, swear I have millions ‘round here.”

Peter smiled with a dimple on display a he picked up the pen and map, tucking it into his bag. “Okay, Thank you so much, really. You have no idea how much you have helped me.” Peter said.

“No problem, kid.” The man nodded as he looked back towards the TV.

As Peter turned to walk towards the door, he paused. “Actually, one more thing” Peter started turning back around. “I know you said you don’t do anything illegal anymore, but uh.” He fiddled with his fingers, chin coming down towards his chest as he struggled to get his words out.

“Do you, uh, know anyone that can make me some fake documents, like just some IDs and stuff? It’s alright if you don’t!” Peter rushed out in one breath, hands shaking in nervousness.

The man’s lips turned into a thin line before he nodded and gestured for Peter to come back towards the counter. “Actually kid, I do.”

He grabbed another pen again before he ripped piece of paper of a small note pad that sat on the side of the counter. He started to scribble quickly on the paper, voice a low whisper. “She goes by Bonnie. The lass real good around that digital sh*t.”

He passed the note to Peter. “All the info is on there, burn it after you memorise it. Like I said, I ain’t saving your ass if you end up on the wanted list with the gangs and cops.” The man said as he straightened. “Tell her, Salz sent ya, she will give ya a discount.”

Peter nodded with a thankful smile, “Ok, I will. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” He asked.

Salz, as Peter has identified just tilted his head with a grin at Peter. “Yeah, just stay safe out there and try to stay away from all tha crime. You seem like a good kid, don’t let it change ya morals.”

Peter beamed at Salz, he felt kind of regretful that the man will never know that he had probably just saved Peter’s life, but he had decided at that moment that if there is ever a chance that he can repay the man he will in a heartbeat.

“Thank you, sir. You also.” Peter smiled appreciatively, he hoped that Salz could see how grateful Peter truly was through his expression and with the small smile that Salz returned Peter knew at that moment that the man had a small idea of it.

How much though? Peter knew Salz will never know.

Peter nodded goodbye to the man before closing the door behind him, the ring of the bell abruptly quieting as the door hit the frame.

It was dark now; the moon was strung high in the sky and the breeze sent a chill along Peter’s naked skin making his neck quiver.

He crossed his arms, rubbing the palms of his hands up and down his flesh. His skin was dyed rosy on his cheeks and nose due to the cold, the short sleeve shirt was doing nothing to keep him warm, it wasn’t cold enough for Peter to think the blood in his veins was slowly turning to ice but it was cold enough to be uncomfortable.

Peter decided to stuff the money and note with the information in his jeans, making sure to keep it deep in the pocket so he wouldn’t lose it. He had chosen not to look for Bonnie tonight, he didn’t know Gotham well enough and he also didn’t want to risk getting mugged with the amount of cash he had on him.

Instead, despite the warning from Salz, he decided to head towards the 24/7 shop anyway and then look for a place to sleep after he had got himself some supplies.

There were so many aspects to think about and it made Peter’s head spin. Being Spiderman had meant he had seen a lot of life on the streets and had come across many criminals, but he had never been on the streets itself.

When Peter and Aunt May ended up on the deadlier side of New York after the battle they hadn’t been homeless, instead couch surfing from a few of Aunt May’s old friends until they could get back on their feet.

The only knowledge he could rely on was the information Natasha had taught him.

Peter remembers the training exercises that Natasha would make him do once every month. He always had a love and hate relationship with them. Some of them were fun and enjoyable The ones where he gets to swing around, cheering and laughing while taking out training dummies and dodging paintballs. Then there were the ones he didn’t like where he would be in the plank position for hours, with more weight being added every couple of minutes.

Of course, he always made sure Natasha knew he was thankful for the lessons even when his muscles felt tightly strung and the knots in his back were painful, but in the end the reason Natasha put her time and effort into training Peter was because she cared about him and he knew that.

One thing Natasha had showed him was a chart of priorities for every human, the basic needs of what was needed for survival before she set him off into a training room that was designed into a city, giving him a small checklist of problems he needed to fix with his surroundings as fast as he could.

However, the difference between then and now is that he doesn’t have someone watching over constantly, making sure he was safe, nor did he have someone there to pull him out the second it got dangerous. There was no one watching his vitals, or an emergency button to press when in trouble or an option to just stop when it got too hard.

He was alone.

With a sigh he thought back to what Natasha had said to him.

“You ever heard of *Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, Pete?”

“Yeah, five-stage model about the needs human beings need to grow.”

“Right Peter, do you know what those five stages are?”

“Physiological, Safety, Love and Belonging, Esteem and Self-actualization.”

“Good job, Peter. When it comes to survival follow the stages, make sure not to move on to the next stage purposely unless the stage before is stable. Of course, if the opportunity for networking arrives, make sure to take it. Everyone is up for grabs Peter, use them.”

“Isn’t that wrong? You know, using people like that?”

“Peter, when it comes to survival it’s each to their own.”

Peter remembered the chills he had felt when Natasha had said that to him, completely stern. Her green eyes burning into his. It wasn’t something he could ever think of himself doing, but Natasha had been firm.

“You have a good heart, Peter. Don’t let it be your downfall.” She had said.

He remembers when she was sparing with him as she tried to distract his mind through questions about the hierarchy.

“What’s under Physiological needs Peter?”

“Uh, food, water, warmth and res- ouch, ok that hurt.”

“Pay attention, Peter. Protect your face next time and you won’t get hit. Again, Physiological Needs?”

“Food, water, warmth, rest.”

“Good Peter. What’s next?”

“Uh, Safety.”

“Remember to dodge, Peter. Now what’s under safety?”

“Security and uh…safety.”

“Good, when it comes to survival, those two are the only ones you need to focus on. Leave the rest until later.”

“The Hierarchy states that you need to have all to actually survive and live a healthy life.”

“Peter, you’re right they are all important, but they are in the shape of a pyramid for a reason. You can’t get to the top without scaling the bottom first. No point of friends if you aren’t even breathing. Let’s take a water break, then we will go again.”

Peter remembered Natasha sending him home after, reminding him to study the hierarchy and look for tips on survival. She had also told him to only listen to people with experience on the streets, no one else.

The next month he had been in the training exercise putting everything to use.

He did it once, he can do it again.

Peter pulled his map out and limped towards the closest streetlight available. He looked over all the destinations, the words of the pyramid running through his head in a constant circle.

Food. Water. Warmth. Rest.

Food, he still had one tin of food, even though it was nowhere near stable he had the money to get more.

Water, he knew he was dehydrated, and his body was probably dangerously low on water.

Warmth, Peter would have to rely on in-closed spaces until he could find an op shop of some kind.

He might be able to find a way to stay warm through making a fire in a trashcan. He had seen people on the street in Queens do it, Natasha had also told him it was a good idea, however she had also told him how dangerous that could be. He didn’t want to be out in the open, especially after what he had seen in Gotham so far and making a fire would draw attention to his location.

Rest, sleep. Peter would eventually need to sleep, the longer he stays up the worse his thinking will get to the point where his thoughts aren’t even coherent enough anymore. Peter has been in that headspace before, where he lives on coffee and can’t tell the difference between his left and right. However, that only happened rarely when he got into a new project, mostly with Mr Stark, but before it got to the point of dangerous Miss Pepper or Aunt May would drag him to a bed.

He didn’t have anyone to do that, so he had to do it himself and he had to start tracking it. Peter didn’t want to lose track of time, especially considering he was in an unknown place. It would cause him to go insane.

He took a deep breath and continued to stare at the map, the cross that Salz had pointed at was just a few turns away. He really hoped he wasn’t walking into his death, Natasha had always said he was too trusting, but Peter didn’t have anyone else to rely on at the moment.

With a limp Peter started making his way towards the 24/7 store, his shopping list consisting of nothing but food and water and if he was lucky maybe a couple of bandages.

Chapter 13: Gas Station Drama

Chapter Text

When Peter got to the store it was late, the store was a 24-hour gas station, the car park was mostly empty except for two random cars, despite the store being in Gotham it looked well kept. The brick wall looked to have a new coat of fresh paint. It was a dull white with a large orange stripe in the middle and around the window frames.

The windows were covered in advertisem*nts about the products inside, such as the new lime flavoured slushy or the one-dollar coffee deal. The open sign sat beside the sliding door, it had a colourful glow that changed every couple of seconds from the led-lights underneath, it created a glowing border and made the letters OPEN illuminate.

There was one light on the sign that didn’t work, and it ruined the whole sign in Peter’s humble opinion.

Peter hobbled up to the sliding door before he headed inside, a beep sounded to let the people inside know that someone was entering. The floor was tiled a blinding white, the cracks between them with the grout grey with dirt. There was a slushy machine towards the left of the door and the counter to the right. Music played from the above speaker, probably a current pop song from a radio.

There was a teen at the counter, wearing a fully black outfit with red striped across his chest. He glanced at Peter before looking back at his phone, uninterested in anything happening around him.

There was an elderly man with wrinkles around his eyes and a small grey moustache. He stared at the extensive options of lottery tickets while he rubbed his chin and leaned against his cane. He had a red and blue flannel and a fluffy, grey Ushanka on the top of his head, the flappy sides rested against the man’s ears.

A woman in a thick jumper with her strawberry blonde hair in a high ponytail strolled throughout the isles as she looked for something specific. Her arms waving beside her as her eyes dashed along the isles, constantly going back and forth. Her colourful sneakers were patterned with different cartoon characters was stitched on the fabric; Peter couldn’t recognise any of them. She had a large denim backpack on that was also filled with stitched on cartoons and pictures, the ends frayed.

There was also a young man wearing a baseball cap with messy, median long black hair that shaped his sickly pale face. It was obvious the man was ill while he raided the candy section, his arms almost overflowed with the variety sweets and large bags of chips. As the man turned towards another section of filled with chocolate bars, Peter saw that the man had on a thick jumper with ‘Hudson University’ written on the back, the words had slightly faded, showing that it was old.

Peter started roaming the store, he glanced between each isle as he tried to see what there was before he went straight towards the back towards the drink section. Peter looked at the different drinks available in the wall chiller as he grabbed two 1.5L water bottles that were $4.60 each, his plan was to refill them in public places.

He decided not to get any food, he still had that one can that would do him until morning when he can instead find a supermarket of some kind and look for canned food. It would be cheaper and a better way to use his cash, it would also last a longer period of time, Peter needed that, he needed something that could sustain itself until he could get a proper plan going.

As he slowly limped towards the front of the counter, the woman with the strawberry blonde hair was being served by the cashier. He decided to wait patiently behind her. His hand tapped along his thigh to the beat of the new song playing while he continued to juggle the objects wrapped in his arms.

Suddenly the sound of the sliding door opened again, the beep sounded to let the cashier know someone new had entered the store.

He was wearing a baseball cap and a black jumper, the hoodie going over the cap on his head shielding most of their face from the people around him, only thing visible was the man’s pointed nose and mouth. He had dark jeans with a black belt around his waist with grey running shoes on his feet. A small black backpack was on his back.

As he sauntered into the gas station with slouched shoulders and a low head his shoes left tracks of dirt behind every time his foot thudded along the tile.

Peter didn’t want to judge people quickly, however the way that the man continuously kept one hand in his large hoodie pocket put him on edge. As the hooded man walked past the person that was combing through the different candy bars Peter saw the young man’s hand freeze from where he had reached for the chocolate, his shoulders stiffen the slightest and his head slightly turned to follow the hooded figure, completely unnoticed.

It seemed Peter wasn’t the only one on edge.

Peter felt his spider sense flair as the hooded man headed towards their direction.

“Hey, dude.” The cashier called, eyes bored and posture relaxed, the teen scrunched his nose in annoyance as he watched the hooded man leave the dirty footprints on the white floor. “Didn’t you read the sign?” He pointed to a sign at the door as he rolled his eyes. “Take your hoodie down, store policy.”

Instead the hooded man tugged his hand out of his pocket revealing a handgun. Peter saw the woman being served jerk away from the man while the teen held his hands up with wide eyes. “Woah, no need to get worked up dude.”

“Shut up.” The hooded man sneered in disgust, gold tooth on display. Peter could see more of his face now that the man was closer. He had green eyes and thick eyebrows, where a tattoo sat across the top of his left brow. He had a piercing going through one of his teeth and a small scar near the inner corner of his eye.

“Open the cash register and put the money in the bag or I’ll shoot your f*ckin brains out.” The hooded man scowled, waving his gun at the teen while gesturing towards the cash register with his head. The matt colour of the handgun made Peter’s spider sense slightly spike every time it was brought closer to him.

The teen nodded as he reached over to open the register, his hands were shaking as he poked the code in. There was barely any cash in there.

“Where the f*ck is the money?” The hooded man said as he stared daggers into the petrified teen in front of him. The teen swallowed as his body trembled from where he was grabbing the cash and shoving it into the bag.

“Day and night shifts store the money away before switching.” The teen mumbled; the words shook as the teen’s face became paler.

The man shot a bullet into the floor.

The woman suddenly fell back against the far wall, her knees almost giving out on her while the elderly man continued to look at the different lottery tickets, completely ignoring what was going on around him. Peter thought he was probably used to this type of stuff.

“Then find where the money is stored and get me the cash! It’s not that hard you f*ckin idiot! Next bullet is in that bitch’s brain” The hooded man snarled, holding his gun up towards the woman still leaning against the wall. “And her death will be on your hands if you don’t hurry the f*ck up.”

The woman was sobbing, her hands were wrapped around her head as she tugged at her hair, Peter could see as her shoulders shook and quiet wrenches bubbled from her mouth. The teen at the counter started to hyperventilate as he tried to rush out excuses and explanations about how he didn’t know where the money was stored.

The man at the candy section had turned around now, his arms empty from when he had quietly placed the candy back into the small display boxes, it was now all messed up.

Striking sky blue eyes met Peter’s honey brown ones. Peter glanced away towards the back of the hooded man’s head before looking back at the blue-eyed stranger. As if the stranger could see what he was thinking Peter watched the stranger silently shake his head; the move almost non-existent. However, Peter decided he needed to do something anyway.

“Look, sir-” Peter whispered as he watched the hooded man’s head swiftly turn his face towards him. Peter pretended to cower under the deadly gaze, even though his instincts and spider sense were sending waves of alarm down his spine his heartbeat was beating in a calm manner and his breathing was deep and slow.

“What the f*ck do you want.” The man spat as he stared at Peter before he took a menacing step towards him, foot stomping on the tiled floor, Peter swore he felt the building shake underneath him. Peter brought his shoulders to his ears as he made his arms tremble in fake fear. “I didn’t mean anything by it.” Peter mumbled while biting his wounded lip, swallowing.

The hooded man faced Peter completely, shoving his gun in Peter’s direction. “Sure, you didn’t you little f*ck.” He shoved the gun to Peter’s forehead, the cold metal made Peter’s skin prickle. Even though Peter could die any second his mind just drifted peacefully along the water, this all felt so natural due to his time as Spiderman.

“You scared now? What happened to your words? Blabbering about.” The gunmen laughed “Drop your sh*t and put your hands up, let me see them.” He growled, putting more pressure on the gun to his forehead with the chilling end, right beside his wound. Peter dropped his stuff to the floor as he listened to it bounce. Before he slowly started to raise his hands.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the sick man from the candy section start to quietly step towards the gunmen, however Peter raised his hand in a way that secretly conveyed to stay put. The young man hesitated before stopping completely. Peter sighed in relief.

Peter knew that if he raised his hands all the way up it would be too late to do anything, he also knew that it takes a person’s hand longer to act when seeing something, so if Peter acted fast he would be able to do grab the small barrel of the gun before the man’s finger even acted on pulling the trigger.

When Peter’s hands were nearly reaching his chest he finally reached out towards the barrel of the gun while moving his head to the side, out of range of the bullet that soon blasted out. The loud bang made everyone flinch as it shot through a random isle, Peter’s ears started to ring.

As this happened, Peter moved like a panther, completely strong with calculated movements down to the thread. His posture was fearless, and his eyes were ablaze. His jaw was clenched as he made his movements glide around the gunmen, sweat trickled down his forehead as his jaw became clenched and his muscles tight.

Peter got a firm grip of the barrel and pointed it down towards the ground between them before using his other hand to grab the hooded man’s wrist and then he turned his arm to the point where the hooded man’s gun was facing his own face and his shoulder almost popped out.

Peter used the gunmen’s arm to tug him towards the ground, using the man’s wavering balance against him, making him trip on Peter’s ankle before his back and head slammed into the floor. Peter twisted the hand with the gun again which caused a sharp groan of pain to fall from the man’s lips as his grip loosened and the gun fell towards the floor.

Peter used his foot to push it under one of the isle’s behind him before punching him in the face and knocking the hooded man out.

Dark red blood splayed along the shiny white tile from the man’s mouth and nose, creating a disturbing contrast. Peter’s foot was burning from the strain and his head pounded from the sudden rush of blood that had bolted to his heart from the adrenaline.

Peter sighed, wiping his forehead as he slowed his breathing from the fast pace it had taken due to the adrenaline from the fight. His foot was burning.

“Someone should uh…” Peter gestured to the man knocked out on the floor. “Call the police or something.”

Peter rolled his shoulders before going to pick up his items and then stalking over towards the cashier who was staring at Peter with his mouth open, his hand still clenched the cash in his palm as his nails dug into his skin.

“Hi, uh…” Peter started, placing his items on the counter. “I would like to purchase these, please?” The teen just blinked in shock before picking up one of Peter’s water bottles and just staring at it.

“What?” The teen mumbled, blinking again. Peter nodded to the water bottle. “I would like to buy these, please.”

The teen eventually just nodded before he started scanning the items. Peter could tell that the teen wasn’t processing the world around him and was just doing what was familiar. He was in shock, Peter would stay to help, but he knew the cops were already on their way and he would rather not deal with all of this at the moment.

Eventually after the second bottle was scanned the teen just tapped on the cash register before mumbling the price in a daze. “$9.20”

Peter went to pull out his small pile of cash before the young, sick looking man from the candy section came forward. “I got it, consider it a thank you.” He grinned kindly at Peter.

Now that he was closer, Peter could see the high cheekbones and the small specks of a darker blue in the man’s eyes. His skin was paler than healthy and eyebags hung under his eyes.

Peter couldn’t judge, they probably looked like twins.

“Uh thank you.” Peter nodded with a smile before he grabbed his items and placed them in his paper bag, it was starting to get full, he would need to look into back packs soon.

“It’s no problem, you are a hero.” The man beamed.

Peter sucked on his lip, feeling the sting.

Hero.

Peter’s lip turned into a thin line before changing into a fake smile, he felt shame and sadness drown his soul as his skin prickled and heart trembled.

“Hero? Yeah right. Maybe in a past life.” Peter muttered while rolling his eyes. He was technically a hero in his past life but overall, he was a failure.

“You never know,” The man grinned before holding out his hand. “I’m Dick.”

“Peter.” Peter replied, lifting his hand to shake Dick’s. His hand was warm, filled with callouses due to hard work.

Dick tilted his head inquisitively, “What happened to your head?” He asked.

“What happened to your health?” Peter shot back just as quick.

Dick paused, eyes wide in shock and Peter was about to apologise for overstepping before Dick tilted his head and chuckled, it strained into a cough. “I took a dive into the harbour.” Dick said with a smile, eyes shining in humour. “It just looked like a lovely day for a swim.”

Peter grinned, “I hit a brick wall with my head.” He sighed “It just looked like a lovely day for brain damage.”

Dick scrunched his nose and his eyebrows furrowed in sympathy, “Ouch, that must have hurt considering the wound on your head.” He muttered.

Peter shrugged, “You should see the wall.” Peter grinned, teeth on display.

Dick smirked. “What? Did it end up worse than you?” He asked.

“Oh nah, it was crystal clear. Not a wound in sight.” Peter grinned at the man before looking back at the wounded gunmen on the floor. “Anyway, I have to get going.” He muttered before smiling at Dick again. “Nice meeting you, Dick.”

Peter turned away from the cashier as he headed towards the sliding doors. Just as he was about to leave someone grabbed Peter’s wrist. Peter almost went to break the stranger’s arm by instinct before turning around and seeing Dick.

“Wait, aren’t you going to give your statement to the police?” He asked with his eyebrows furrowed.

Peter looked inside the shop, he saw the old man still looking at the lottery tickets, the woman on her knees in tears and the shocked cashier barely processing anything. He also glanced into the corner and saw a small camera, due to once being Spiderman and working in engineering with Mr Stark, Peter knew the difference between a fake camera and a working one.

It was obvious the camera was fake, but he wasn’t going to mention it. Peter sighed. “Look, there is you, three other witnesses to the crime and a camera right there, I’m sure my statement won’t make a difference.”

However, Dick shook his head. His grip tightened the slightest bit as his eyes burned with determination and stubbornness. “But you were the one who acted, it is important you share your point of view of the situation.”

Peter just tugged his arm, silently panicking at the thought that the police could show up at any moment. He could already distantly hear the sirens due to his spider sense and it was slowly getting louder the closer they came.

Peter sighed, “I’m busy, alright? I have an emergency to attend and was just picking some stuff up. If the cops need me so badly then they can find me themselves.” Peter mumbled as he went to tug his arm again, however as he did the sleeve of the Dick’s jumper went up and it showed something that made Peter’s stomach churn and heart jump.

Karen.

Chapter 14: The Outlaws

Chapter Text

Red Hood was not in a good mood, this was supposed to be easy.

A simple in and out.

When the night first begun, Hood was having a blast, literally.

Hood had just got his hands on some new explosives that he was eager to try out, he had also got some new, slick guns that were strapped to his thighs, however one jammed during a shootout and the other’s trigger snapped.

So now he was running through the different buildings with just a knife and his old, trusty M1911 Pistols.

He was with his team, The Outlaws. A team he created to rebel against the heroes. Ravager was also helping out with the case. She wasn’t officially apart of the team, she was dealing with her own stuff, but she always gave a hand when she had the time and resources, also when Hood had the cash to pay.

He considered them all, himself included, the anti-heroes and Red Hood loved it.

Not right now though. Right now, he was thinking about where he went wrong with his life choices.

Probably that warehouse in Ethiopia.

Hood crouched behind a van and looked up towards the moon, based on the placement he assumed it was around midnight. He glanced around at the other buildings and cargo around him.

The Outlaws were currently investigating a drug trafficking ring. Usually Hood didn’t go this far away from Gotham to close a ring, however no matter how many times he had stopped these drugs from getting into Crime Alley a new pathway would open up in days, it was pissing him off. The drugs have caused so many deaths in Gotham, it was a mix of different drugs along with sh*t he had never even seen before.

They had been after this for months and all their sources had led them to a Port in Louisiana.

The Port was large, a colourful array of cargo was stacked upon each other as it scaled high towards the sky. The different cargo containers were positioned in groups of cubes, the purpose to be able to easily drift in between the different pathways. Different warehouses scattered the side of the docks, some were well used while others looked to be slowly running down.

Cranes were all over the place, along with different ships. A few ships were in use, moving in and out of the docks and into the ocean as far as the eye could see while others idle, currently just chained to the side of the docks with thick, stained rope.

There was a large rectangular crevice in the middle of the dock flowing with the almost pitch-black water of the ocean. Hood could hear the waves crash up high along the side of the Port from where a current ship was stationary, being unloaded.

Hood was watching it carefully.

There was currently a large, blue crane lifting the heavy cargo boxes from the massive ship and adding them to the already colossal collection of crates. However as Hood sat behind the van, watching the crane he noticed that every now again the large crane would add a container to the back of a truck that would drive into a warehouse before coming back out of the building awhile later while the driver patiently waited for the crane to load the truck again.

Hood spoke into his comm to his team, Arsenal, Starfire and Ravager. Arsenal was…well busy, Ravager was heading towards the security systems and Starfire was currently checking out the records on the ship.

“Found anything?” He asked

“They have Shipments going all across the states.” Starfire informed them through the comm. “This boat has just come from Asia and is set to head towards Australia in a couple of hours.”

Hood could hear the shuffle of paper through her comm, different cabinets opening here and there. “Anything else?” Hood questioned as he ran between the different cargo containers.

Starfire hummed, “Yes, it seems that the ship had emergency cargo added last minute causing a delay. It says 19 extra cargo crates, do you think that it could be…”

“The crates filled with the drugs?” Hood put in, “Yeah I think so.”

Ravager swore over the comm, “19 Cargo crates of drugs? From Asia? And Australia could be involved too?” The sound of a swift kick could be heard over the comm. “Hood, this could be worldwide, we might need to reach out for more people.”

Hood shrugged, now outside the warehouse. “We can worry about that later; we just need to cut it off from New Jersey as a whole.” Hood watched the truck drive into the warehouse, he waited but as the minutes slowly added he assumed that was the last cargo container.

“Think I found the building were the crates filled with the drugs are being loaded into.” Hood said into the comm; voice low into a gravelly whisper.

“Finally!” Arsenal muttered, “It’s been ages. Honestly was starting to wonder if you were just sitting around counting sheep.”

Hood rolled his eyes. “You can’t talk, you have been stuck in the stupid vent for almost 2 hours now.” He growled.

When Arsenal had original reported the embarrassing event, Hood had literally gaped.

Such a rookie mistake. Hood was passed such novice things.

“Dude,” Arsenal all but gawked into the comm, disbelief in his tone. “You literally tripped into a rubbish chute at that construction site not even a week ago, Star had to dig your ass out because you got stuck in the bin fighting a rabid racoon.”

“It was a sad time.” Starfire chimed into the comm while Ravager laughed, “Such a tragic event.”

Hood rolled his eyes as he started to move between the cargo, crouching low, he headed closer towards the warehouse roller door, it was just across from him.

“At least mine wasn’t a conscious decision.” Hood mumbled as he watched the man in the truck talk on the phone before he opened the truck door and made his way out of the truck and into a closed door in the warehouse.

Hood saw the lights shut out as the roller door started to close. Hood ran across the Port before he rolled under the roller door, barely slipping in as the roller door slammed close behind him. The loud bang echoed loudly within the building walls, surrounding Hood in a ripple of sound as the roller door shuttered.

“Technically, and here me out,” Arsenal started “Maybe mine also wasn’t a conscious decision.”

Hood sighed relying completely on the night vision in his red helmet. Sometimes he really wondered why he worked with this idiot he calls a best friend. “You crawled into that vent, in your own free will. It was a conscious decision.”

Hood decided he wanted to head into the room that the man had gone into first, he took a second to gaze around the warehouse.

The inside of the warehouse was just four walls made of brick and steel. To the side were the cargo containers, he counted all 19 in colours of blue, red and orange. Hood looks up towards the roof, seeing different cameras all pointing in different directions.

“Ravager, you at the security system yet?” Hood asked as he watched the cameras slowly turn from one side to the other, the red light on.

“Almost, just swiping the card now.”

Hood heard the sound of a beep and then a heavy door be pushed open through his comm. “Alright, I’m here.” Ravager spoke clearly, the quiet sound of the typing of keys in his ear.

“Good, I need you to loop the cameras, for the warehouse on the North side of the port. The one with the singular roller door.” Hood mumbled.

“Yep, done. Anything else?” Ravager asked as Hood watched the cameras slow to a halt.

“Nope,” He smiled. “Do your thing princess.”

Arsenal gagged while Ravager growled.

“Call me that again and I will cut out your tongue.” She muttered; venom dripped from her voice. Hood smirked. “Sounds like my kind of love language.” Hood could feel the eye roll Ravager was giving him through the comm.

Now that the cameras were looping, Hood headed towards the room. He stood outside the door and carefully listened in. He could hear a voice on the other side having a one-sided conversation.

“He said by Monday.” The voice paused. “I told him that, but he didn’t agree…no, he only wants 2 million.” Another pause. “I’m aware of that Johnny, I’m not a f*ckin idiot.” There was a beep. “One sec, John…Yeah, yeah I know. Okay, I gotta go now.” A sigh. “Don’t f*ck this up, bye Johnny.”

There was silence. Suddenly the door handle started to twist, Hood stood to the side and as the man came out Hood grabbed him by the back of the head and brought him towards his knee. The man groaned with a cuss, hands reaching up to grab at Hoods arms but before he could do anything Hood just did it again, this time there was a crack from the man’s nose before the man went limp and passed out.

Hood stalked into the room quietly, he dragged the unconscious man in with him before he just chucked the guy in to a corner, not even sparing a second to watch the man slump.

Hood was in an office of some kind, there was paperwork on the desk along with an old mug filled with a dark liquid, most likely coffee.

There were pictures on the walls of different ships and newspapers, a fishing rod hung on the wall along with different pictures of fish and their sizes. Hood ignored them and went straight to the desk, shuffling through the papers.

“Star, does any of the documents on the ship say something about an extra 7 crates?” Hood questioned as he flipped through the different pages.

“No, there is nothing else.” Starfire replies.

Ravager adds her two cents to the conversation. “Nothing here either, must all just be either under the table or documented on paper.”

Hood nods to himself in, he hummed in agreement into the comm as he sorted through the different documents, there was nothing that stuck out to him. In the end he just put the papers back before exiting the office, he closed the door quietly, giving one last glance to the unconscious man before he turned away.

“I’m going to look through the cargo containers now.” Hood muttered into the comm.

“While you do that Hood, I am coming to get you, Arsenal.” Starfire said. “Are you still in the building on the South side of the Port?” Starfire asked the archer.

“No sh*t, he’s stuck in a vent. Not like he can go anywhere.” Ravager chuckled to herself. At the same time that Arsenal confirmed his location.

As Hood started to lift the latch to open the container, he suddenly heard Starfire laugh loudly into the comm.

“You know what?” Arsenal muttered as Starfire continued to laugh at what Hood assumed was Arsenal. “I don’t need your help; I’ll get myself out, thank you very much.”

Starfire tried to stifle her giggles. “No wait, my apologies. I just was not expecti-”

Starfire’s voice is suddenly cut out as the power in Hood’s helmet turns off. His comm goes to static in his ear and his night vision goes out leaving him in complete darkness.

“What the f*ck-” Hood muttered to himself. He turned around then out of nowhere he held in a curse as a burnt golden blur suddenly came at him in a jagged bolt. It looked like a compacted fire, lighting up the area around it as it dashed towards him as if it was ready to explode at any moment and send this building ablaze.

Hood swore to himself as he dove to the left, away from the crate. The glowing dart burst against the cargo container, it created a large spark of burning shards before they dissipated into nothing, leaving naught but a blast in the container.

Then it was quiet. All Hood could rely on was his hearing to try and figure out what was going on. He listened closely as he pulled out one of his pistols and lightly placed his finger on the trigger. He crouched down low and started to manoeuvre towards one of the walls of the warehouse.

Then barely he heard quiet wisps, like spirits whispering in the wind before a small glow of sparks appeared at the edge of his vision. He raised his gun, the cold metal whizzed at the speed of the movement before Hood pulled the trigger at the glow. The sound of the gun shot throughout the warehouse as it created an everlasting buzz.

The glowing light swiftly disappeared before the sound of the bullet created a clang from where it had bounced of a cargo container.

Hood rubbed his lips together.

Missed.

He listened again; the darkness continued to engulf him due to the fact there was no windows. It was making his heart pound against his ears. If it wasn’t for the fact that he could move freely he would feel as if he was back in his coffin, a shiver went down his spine at the thought.

Another wisp was heard before a bolt of energy was shot towards him again. Hood dodged, swiftly turning away from the line of fire. The bolt of energy ran past him before hitting another cargo container, however instead of just dispersing like last time it bounced of the metal before heading towards him again, the magic blast blazing in the darkness.

“sh*t.” Hood gasped as he ducked. The bolt went above his head before it blasted against the wall of a building, creating a firework before the glowing shards turned back to dust again, permanently this time.

Hood spun wildly; his head twisted as he tried to find where the blast had come from. It was obvious that whatever was attacking him could see him in the darkness.

The wisps began again, Hood saw the stupid sparks, like metal on metal grinding against each other.

Hood ran towards the sparks; he could see them light up the outline of the top half of a figure. As Hood got closer all he could see was a man’s beard and blazing green eyes that was filled with nothing but cold calculations, it made Hood’s spine tremble.

Hood dodged and dashed the next bolt before he raised his gun and shot two bullets at the man, one after the other. The man created signals with his hands before two glowing circles filled with patterns hovered in front of his hands. The bullets ricocheted of the shields before turning into broken shards and disintegrating into nothing.

Hood pounced forward towards the wizard, he clenched his fist and raised his gun to whack the man in the temple, however the man dodged and spun around, so he was behind Hood, a fabric flew behind him.

Hood went towards him again; all he was relying on was the glowing sparks coming from the man’s hands. He raised his foot to kick the mysterious man before the man leant backwards and fell through a portal.

The portal closed, leaving Hood in darkness again. Hood reloads his gun, the click sounding loud in the dark abyss around him. His heart was like a hummingbird, pounding painfully against his rib cage.

Hood moved backwards with his gun raised, he kept his footsteps quiet against the concrete flooring, all he could hear was his breathing in his helmet as he breathed deeply.

His back eventually hit a wall, he used one of his hands to drag his fingers across the wall, the ripples in the metal felt like a cargo container against his gloves. Hood kept his back against the container while he kept his gun up.

A glow came from above him along with the chiming wisps, he looked up to see the man looming above him, standing in a confident crouch.

The man’s hands moved quickly above him in a quick circle. Hood raised his gun to shoot before a glow came from under his feet.

Before Hood can even think the floor was removed from beneath him and he feels weightless as he falls through a portal.

Hood panicked; he felt his world flip before his vision was suddenly watching where he just was. The man turned to face him and before Hood could even raise his gun the man lifted his hand swiftly and there were ropes of gold binding him to the back of a wall. His gun clattered to the floor in surprise.

“What the f*ck.” Hood muttered, as he tugged at the binds. Alarm filled him to his core and his blood rushed past his ears as he saw the figure of the mysterious man float down from the Cargo container and strut towards him slowly.

“Who are you?” Hood demanded. However, the man just ignored him.

“You’ve interacted with the soul stone.” The mysterious man whispered to himself, eyes burning fire into Hood’s helmet, making him feel as if he was aflame. “I can sense it around you.” The man took a deep breath.

“Where is it.” The man seethed, his golden shields created sparks, like a firecracker, burning the darkness around them. The intense glow caused a circle of light to surround them, making the man’s features finally stand out in detail.

He had on a red cape, it flowed around his body in graceful waves, the dark blue of his robe a royal blue, it spoke of confidence and authority making Hood grit his teeth. His belt was black, strapped tightly around his waist, it showed the way his chest broadened. The binds strapped around Hood suddenly tightened.

As it did the gem on his chest glowed a lustrous green, almost hypnotising to the eye, it showed the man’s power and influence in the world around him as if he had the globe circling in the palm of his hand. Hood was interacting with a Sorcerer…and it was pissing him off.

“Listen man.” Hood started, his voice changer causing his words to come out rough. “I have no f*ckin’ idea what you’re on about.” He tugged at the binds. “So why don’t you let me go and I can beat you up.”

Hood swore under his breath as the binds tightened again, the glowing gold bright in his vision. He felt as if his circulation was being cut off.

The Sorcerer stared at hood again, before he narrowed his cold eyes into sharp blades that pierced Hood’s soul. “Who did you kill?” The Sorcerer growled out, voice loud in the quietness around them.

Hood rolled his eyes with a scoff, “Look Merlin wannabe, I kill people on the weekly. You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.” He tugged at the binds; the binds felt as if they were burning heat.

“No,” The mysterious Sorcerer snapped. “Who did you kill that you loved? That meant something to you?”

Hood froze, slightly confused. “I don’t know, people I know die all the time.” He shrugged.

The Sorcerer paused, before repeating a phrase into the building. “For one of you. For the other, in order to take the stone, you must lose that which you love. An everlasting exchange. A soul for a soul.” The Sorcerer stared at the ground. “That’s the quote, what am I missing?”

“Dude, I have no idea, now get these f*ckin’ binds of me before I rip them off myself.” Hood growled, as he struggled in the binds slightly.

The Sorcerer scrunched his eyebrows in thought. “Lose that which you love.” He whispered. “An object? Relation? Maybe you don’t have to be the reason it was lost.” He muttered before his eyes widened.

Hood rolled his eyes. “You talk to yourself often weirdo?”

The Sorcerer ignored him. “Who did you lose?” He spoke into the silence, overpowering the building.

Hood rolled his eyes with a groan. “This sh*t again? I told you that I don’t know!” He shrugged his shoulders, biting his lip at the small strain of pain that bounced through his back.

However, the mysterious Sorcerer shook his head. “You misunderstood me,” He snapped. “I meant who did you love that died?”

“I lose people all the time.” Hood snarked, annoyed. “It kind of comes with the job. It’s the fine print that no one wants to read on the document, people dying.” He smirked as the Sorcerer’s stare deepened, eyes fierce.

“This is no joking matter.” The Sorcerer demanded. He stepped closer to Hood, slowly pushing his hand closer to the vigilante, it made the binds tighten. “Who was it? A friend? A family member? Perhaps a lover?” The Sorcerer continued on. “Sibling? Parent? Child? Partner?”

The Sorcerer glared once more, straight into the eyes of the red helmet. “Who died?”

The Sorcerer suddenly froze in front of Hood, his face went neutral and the arm with the shield tensed as if the realisation of something had suddenly put everything together.

“Was it you?”

Hood saw green.

Chapter 15: Cops and Robbers

Chapter Text

Peter stared at the watch on Dick’s wrist with wide eyes.

Nothing about the watch has changed since he had last saw it. It was still black and red with that stupid blue glow in the clock that just reminded him of Karen, it made his chest hurt.

Peter stared, his vision narrowed into the glow like a moth to a flame, everything else around him blurred. He couldn’t hear anything except for the ringing siren that played in his ears in a constant cycle, it slowly got louder. His head was pounding at the sound, his breath stuttered before it froze like his throat was clogged.

All he felt was numb, his brain was clouded with a smoky fog.

“Peter?”

The world suddenly spun back into focus around him. His eyes snapped up to Dick.

“Uh, Pardon?” Peter mumbled as he blinked.

Dick frowned at him as his eyebrows scrunched in concern. “I was asking if you were alright.” He said. The hand that gripped Peter’s wrist loosened just slightly.

Peter took his chance and ripped himself away.

“I’m fine sorry, but I really have to go.” Peter mumbled as he looked around him. The sirens that were once a quiet ring in the background were now loud echoes in his ears. He felt as if he could see the soundwaves around him from how violently head-splitting they were.

The cops were getting really close, he needed to leave now.

“Alright,” Dick said with a raised eyebrow. “However, the police are almost here, I am sure they won’t take much of your time.” Dick added, but Peter just shook his head and started to create distance between them.

He had no details in this world. No ID, Birth Certificate, Records, talking to the police would be similar to a life sentence in jail and a investigation of a lifetime, especially with what he had seen in Gotham so far. The accusations that could be put against him could be significantly detrimental.

He didn’t want to spend half his life in a cell, constantly looking at four walls.

“Look, Dick. When I said I had to go, I meant it.” Peter said resolutely. He turned and started to limp quickly; his foot be damned. “Like I said before, if they need me then they can find me themselves, but from the looks of it, I think the cops will agree when they say it is pretty much a case closed.”

Peter didn’t wait for Dick to reply before he started retracing his footsteps.

As Peter continued down the alley he could hear and see the blaring sirens bounce between the walls in striking flashes of a familiar red and blue. He felt his breathing constrict as his mind panicked.

All Peter knew was one thing.

He f*cked up. His moral compass would be the death of him and his survival instincts flew out the window.

First, he was in a new dimension with no income and no way to survive and now he has the police on his back and Karen is stuck to a random guy?

Peter paused at the last thought, his pace stuttering.

Some random guy had Karen; Dick had Karen.

But…did he really? Karen wasn’t in the watch when Peter threw it, she wasn’t even alive anymore and Peter was the one who gave the watch up. Did he have the right to feel as if someone had taken Karen from his hands? Maybe that wasn’t even Karen, it hadn’t even been a full two days yet.

Peter rubbed his nose before two voices were heard coming near the alley.

He dived behind a dumpster just in time before a flashlight was shone right where he was standing. He crouched right up in the corner, wishing the shadows could just swallow him whole.

“And you said he took the man down?” Someone asked at the head of the alley. Their voice was smooth and slightly deep yet it clearly belonged to a female.

Peter listened carefully.

“Yes officer, he did. It was all really quick.”

Peter held his breath, he knew that voice, it was Dick. Dick was talking to a police officer about him.

“And you also said that he ran down this alley afterwards?” The officer said, the light shone in his direction for a second as footsteps started to get closer.

Dick was quiet for a second before replying to the officer’s words. “Well, I’m not sure exactly, it was really dark.”

“You said he left in a hurry?”

“Yeah,” Dick replied, “Said he had somewhere he needed to be.”

One of them kicked a piece of gravel, Peter watched it roll past him before slowly coming to a stop.

“Did he say where?” The officer asked, the flashlight flying from left to right.

The conversation paused at the sound of a rustle near Peter. He held his breath staring at the newspaper that was making the sound. Footsteps came closer to his direction.

Peter saw two beady eyes of a rat stare at him from under the newspaper. He put a hand to his mouth and looked around him desperately for something to scare it away.

He could hear a pair of footsteps get closer to where he was hiding.

“Please stay back, sir.” The officer said, Peter heard the sound of a gun click.

Peter felt something smooth under his hand, it had a weird shape, he held it up and realised it was a pair of broken sunglasses, one of the lenses missing while the other was cracked.

The light was barely centimetres from the tip of his shoe. Peter swivelled his head to the rat before he chucked the sunglasses low to the ground towards the rat.

He sucked in a breath as the sunglasses fell towards the newspaper.

The flashlight spun towards the sound and away from his feet before the rat flew out of the newspaper and across the alley.

Peter heard the officer freeze in their tracks, he watched in relief as the flashlight followed the rat that quickly ran into a drainpipe on the opposite side of the alleyway.

Peter heard the gun click again before the sound of footsteps stepped away from him, he let his head rest against the rusted metal as the tension released from his body. He felt himself almost burst into tears of relief when the flashlight turned off.

“Did he give you any information about himself?” The footsteps stopped; Peter could hear their breathing.

Peter swallowed, his guard back up; he scrunched his eyes tightly, he felt so stupid. Peter waited in dread as he listened for Dick to say his name.

“No, I didn’t get anything.” Dick replied to the officer, causing Peter to almost shake in gratitude.

“Are you sure? Not even a name?” The Officer pressed. Peter swallowed, maybe Dick had forgotten that Peter had given him his name, however Dick kept his answers the same.

“I’m sure Officer, All I did was ask where he was going, and he didn’t say anything about it.”

Peter felt his heart thump loudly in his ears as he swallowed what felt like pins that scratched the inside of his throat. Dick was lying for him, to authority.

Peter felt so bad right now.

“Ok,” The officer said. “Was there anything else you can give to his description? Anything we can use to find him? Accent? Body language?”

Peter bit his lip, he had injuries all over him that could be used to identify him before he healed but the one thing that he was worried about was his foot. It slows him down and makes it a lot harder to manoeuvre about, plus that could be pretty recognisable body language, the fact he was walking with a limp.

However, Dick continued to lie. “Nothing really stood out, he seemed pretty healthy. Small cut on his lip but that’s all I noticed.”

The officer hummed. “Guess he is probably long gone by now then.” Peter heard the female officer speak into her radio before she talked to Dick again. “Thank you for your statement, Mr Grayson, we will be in contact if we need anything, but this case seems pretty obvious, should be a closed case in a day or so.”

Peter heard Dick smile through his words. “I’m glad, thank you officer. You are truly making a difference in society.”

Peter heard the conversation drift out of the alley; his shoulders slumped.

Dick had lied for him, to a Police Officer and he may or may not have Karen.

He can’t tell whether that’s a good thing or not.

Peter knew he needed to change his clothes and find a place to hide and the only thing he could think of was somewhere in Arcade Passage. He didn’t want to go back to the apartment but there were other places he saw, just as long as he stayed near the chain link fence where the toxin is probably less, he would be alright.

Peter decided to head towards Arcade Passage and come back to the grocery store later in the afternoon, he still had a can of food left that he could eat. As he made his way down different alleys he thought about Karen on Dick’s wrist.

Peter didn’t know what he was feeling, nor did he know what to do. He wasn’t feeling any regret over throwing the watch away, more so at the fact that he didn’t hide it.

Dick currently had on something priceless, Mr Stark’s only creation in this world, Peter’s only friend.

Yet, Peter reminded himself, it wasn’t his friend. Karen wasn’t in the watch and if she was, she wanted nothing to do with Peter.

Considering the question whether that was Karen’s watch in the first place.

As Peter hit the chain-link fence, he decided to keep an eye out for Dick anyway, just to check more closely and if it was Karen? Peter had no idea what he would do, he guessed he would cross that bridge when it comes to it.

Eventually Peter limped to the same hole as he was used to. Getting back on the ground he crawled through, as Peter mindlessly avoided the one stray wire, he realised how inconvenient this was.

Instead of going the way he went originally, he decides to go the opposite way. His fingers tighten around the wire until it’s digging into his skin. He continued on as he followed the side of the fence, keeping close to the edge.

Peter keeps telling himself that he will only stay here a few days, even as his heart thumps uncomfortably quick in his chest. He knows that he is breathing in fear toxin right now, that he will most likely start to hallucinate something soon.

Whether it is someone walking down the street or a dark figure of a loved one following behind him in the shadows he isn’t sure, but what he knows is that he has to remember that it isn’t real.

No matter how much he wishes. Even if they told him how much of a disgrace he is, or how he should live in his sorrows, he wishes that no matter what he sees that it was real because then at least he knows he isn’t alone.

Is that selfish? Probably.

Peter comes across what looks to be an old shop. The window is large, it’s blurry and cloudy, the edges of the glass has almost lost all transparency. Peter leans up close and puts his hands on the glass to cover any outside light as he looks into the store, his breath fogs the glass in front of him.

Peter’s brown eyes strain before they slowly get used to looking into the dark store. It is full of clothing, it looks completely ransacked, clothes lay on the floor and some are thrown messily over different racks almost as if someone was digging through the different garments.

It was probably done after the store was closed or abandoned considering the fact that the actual massacre happened in the early hours of the morning.

Peter wipes his lip and goes to check the white painted door with strikes of maroon to find it is locked. He jiggles the hand between his hands before the handle completely breaks under his palm. Peter sighs as he muttered different curse words under his breath as he stares defeated at the broken parts that had bounced onto the floor.

Peter goes to put pressure onto the door to force it open but as he did dust starts to fall onto him from above, he risks a glance up and hears himself gasp at the different cracks that are near the roof of the door.

If Peter pushes this door open the whole roof above, him will collapse. Peter slumps his shoulders and pushes a hand through his hair, trying to brush away the specks of dust.

He looks around him before seeing some broken rubble near the entrance of the store next to him.

Peter knows that what he is about to do is stupid.

He limps over towards the rubble before he picks one up, without any spider strength the weight of it is heavy in his hands. It is sharp and large, bigger than his hand. Peter takes a deep breath before pulling his hand back, the muscles in his shoulder stretch as he suddenly flings his arm forward, throwing the rock into the glass window.

The damage is instant, the glass turns into a large web of cracks before it starts to shatter like a broken lightbulb, the glass window starts to fall towards the ground. Peter’s eyes burn into the broken window, his heart falls to the pit of his stomach at the vandalisation he had just caused.

It’s abandoned. Peter tells himself, however it does little to sooth the guilt and regret that is bubbling inside him like boiling water in a cauldron. He shakes his head and grabs another piece of broken rubble, instead of throwing it he goes up to the glass and starts to carefully knock the glass out piece by piece, creating a hole big enough for him to fit through.

Peter ducked underneath the pointed shards that are coming down from the top of the window like spikes of ice, he lifted his leg and slowly puts it into the store, avoiding the broken shards under his leg.

Peter cringes at the sound of the broken glass underneath his shoe, his eyebrows scrunch and teeth clench at the scrunch of the shards digging into the ground. Peter lifts his other foot and brings it into the store.

Now that he is inside, he can see the inside of the store more clearly. There are posters on the wall with models in different clothes, some men and some woman. As he looks around, he sees different types of clothing on the racks around him.

There are a variety of things in different colours, some look as if they were once bright and beautiful however now they have turned into dull coloured fabric, covered in dust and dirt. Yet even as Peter runs his fingers over the different tops near him, they all look fine, they aren’t stained or full of tears, the just seem untouched, literally.

Peter decides right there and then that he is going to take some of these.

Of course, feels guilty at the thought but this feels different. This isn’t someone’s personal belongings like it was in the apartment, these are from abandoned stores. They have no sentiment or personal value; they are just fabric.

Peter’s eyes gaze around before coming along the back wall where different bags are stored, handbags, purses, satchels, backpacks, fanny pac-

Backpacks.

“Holy sh*t.” Peter smiles before laughing in complete joy, he feels himself grin so wide his mouth hurts as he hobbles over to the different backpacks.

This was something Peter had been looking out for since he came into this world, something that can hold his stuff. Peter looked at the different bags, eyes glowing in happiness.

There were colourful bags filled with patterns and pictures however Peter decides to go for a plain black backpack, if Peter wasn’t focusing on the fact that the black backpack would be the easiest to hide, he would have gone for something much more his style. While he looked at the different bags, he decides to screw it and grabbed a dark red fanny pack with gold lining the zip and sides for the sole reason that it is the same colours as Red Robin.

His humour is going downhill, the shame.

The fanny pack was designed to go across his chest instead of around his waist, he didn’t want it to slip if he has to run anywhere.

Peter zips open the front pocket of the bag and puts the whole paper bag inside, he doesn’t want to tip it in because of the fact that the bag is still contaminated with fear toxin. He then heads to the men’s section and starts looking through the different types of clothing.

Peter doesn’t know whether the seasons are the same here as they are in his dimension but considering the fact that Gotham resides in New Jersey, July is usually a summer month.

Peter has felt warm, especially in the jeans, however during the night it can get pretty cold. He decides to grab a few different pair of clothes.

He looks through the different racks, coming across different types of patterns and colours, however despite the fact the Peter has always like clothes with some colour he decides to stick to the darker shades so he can blend in with the dark easier.

Sure, it may make him look like a thief but sacrifices.

He comes across track suit pants and decides to grab two pairs in his size, one is a grey and the other is black. The black one is thicker than the grey, however both feel soft yet durable. They won’t scratch his skin in that painfully familiar feeling of scratching skin turning to dust like his too small jeans have been doing.

Next he comes across the jeans and hesitates. Peter sucks in a sharp breath as he rubs his fingers over the denim in between his fingers. All of a sudden Peter feels lightheaded and nauseous. He looks away and wipes his fingers on his top to get rid of the feeling.

Peter moves over towards the shorts and picks up another two pairs, both black, the only difference is that one is made of linen and the other cotton. He puts them against his waist and watches as they lay just above his knees. Peter nods to himself as he puts them both in his bag beside the pants.

Next Peter heads towards the shirts, as he flicks through each one, the coat hangers rattling from the rusty movements he suddenly stops when he catches a glance of big white, words on a bright blue shirt.

Why can you never trust atoms?

They make up everything.

Around the shirt are the small shapes of atoms, curving around in the usual flower like shape almost as if they are stars in the background of the shirt.

Peter lets out a startled giggle, never mind what he thought before, his humour is perfect.

He takes the bright blue shirt of the coat hanger and folds it before tucking it in his bag. He comes across more shirts with puns but decides to stick with a plain one. He has to remember dark clothing. The shirt is a size too big but feels comfortable. Peter adds it to his collection.

Peter then moves on to the jumpers, his eyes glance at all the different ones, most of them are plain with only a few with patterns.

Peter just grabs a plain black one with a zip, the strings around the hoodie are dark blue along with the lines near the zips and pockets. Peter ties it around his waist.

Lastly Peter heads over towards the part of the shop filled with packs of socks and underwear, Peter doesn’t wonder the section for long, instead just grabbing both pieces in packs of black.

His bag is getting to the point of almost becoming a struggle to zip closed, there is only enough space for small things however there is nothing else Peter really has an interest in.

Peter heads over to the front of the counter to see if there is anything there. He decides not to check the register due to the fact that any money is contaminated beyond repair at this point, he didn’t want to spread the toxin through using notes that would eventually spread into different registers.
Instead he looks over at all the small bits and bobs. There are lip balms, nail polish, some hair ties, mints, small perfume bottles and more. Peter doesn’t grab any of it. There is nothing there that he could save that is already not contaminated.

Peter grabs his small map and pen from his pocket and opens it up, he doesn’t know the exact location of the clothing store but decides to add it to his map anyway, drawing a new symbol near the edge of Arcade Passage he then flips the page and adds the small symbol to his legend.

✭ - Clothing

Tomorrow he has two things to do, first. Go grocery shopping then after that find a laundry mat and decontaminate everything he got from here.

Then he can get rid of these stupid denim pants.

Chapter 16: Exploring Retail

Chapter Text

Peter’s back was sore from sleeping curled up in the corner of the clothing shop, he had tried to keep the bottom half of his face in his shirt to try and filter out the gas, however eventually Peter just felt as if he was suffocating so instead he had just curled his face close to his elbow.

Peter slowly stood up; his muscles hurt from the constant crouched position. Peter had a tendency to curl up into himself when he was feeling unsafe in a vulnerable state such as sleeping, it wasn’t something that happened often considering he was usually in his bed, however sometimes he is so exhausted that it doesn’t even register in his brain that he was hiding until later.

Maybe it was his spider sense unconsciously triggering without him knowing.

Peter rolled his shoulders before he looked towards the shattered window, he couldn’t tell what time of day it was due to the fact that Gotham always seemed to have this sombre cloud weighing over it, the sluggish balls of cotton rippling in different shades of grey, but it wasn’t pitch black outside anymore.

Peter walks over towards the window, his new bag was slung lazily over his shoulder. From the looks of it, the clouds weren’t that beautiful rainbow from the sunrise or sunset, so it had to be just a random hour throughout the day.

Peter started to lift himself through the broken glass window, he could already feel a slight haze in the back of his brain from the fear toxin drugging his system and he didn’t know how to feel about that.

Of course, he knew that whatever he experienced was nowhere near as horrible as the people around him, he wasn’t at the risk of his blood pressure skyrocketing or his heart violently ceasing, but it still causes a sense of dread to run throughout his body.

Peter had noticed that rather than the toxin affecting him immediately, instead it starts to mess with his head.

When he first came here, he didn’t know what the small movements in the corner of his eyes were, or the feel of fingertips brushing the skin of his arms light enough to be seen as nothing, or the whispering murmurs he heard in the alleyways. With his spider sense constantly tingling in the back of his mind he wasn’t sure what was happening, but now he knows that it was the fear toxin messing with his brain.

As Peter said before, just because his spider genes can help the toxin move quicker within his body, doesn’t mean it stops its purpose, it was creating fear within Peter, making him paranoid, impulsive.

So, he had the right to be fearful.

As he slowly made his way towards the gate, he ignored the uneasy feeling in his gut instead he was on a mission. Peter knew it was a bad idea to head back to the same grocery store that had the robbery basically right next door, but he had his last can of food before falling asleep yesterday and the lack of food had already affected his body detrimentally.

The only improvement to any of his wounds was that the cut on his lip had started to scab over and that had just happened naturally, so he was slightly alarmed at the fact that his body currently only has enough food to just keep his organs functioning properly, mostly.

Peter eventually found himself crawling back through the chain link fence and then wondering down the same alleys as he did last night, the only difference was that his head was facing towards the ground, trying to hide from anyone that could recognise him.

Soon he came across the same petrol station as the night before. He was surprised to see it open still.

He glanced in the window as he walked past, for the most part the inside of the station looked the same, the only difference was that Peter could see a small piece of carboard taped down to the floor over where the bullet had probably shot.

There was a lad behind the counter this time, serving a customer but that’s all Peter saw before he had completely walked past the station and into the grocery store next door.

As soon as Peter walked in, he could feel the change in temperature just blast him in the face. It wasn’t a big grocery store, in fact it seemed to be more similar to the size of those small delis you see at the corner of long roads.

There were isles of different food products along with the lights that formed a glow from the freezers at the back. Long lights shone from the roof, the floor was the same colour as marmalade, cracks between the tiles ran in dark lines making rectangles.

There was a lady behind the counter, fiddling through different stacks of cash, Peter noted that every fill bill she would lick the end of her thumb before swiping over the bills again. He felt himself cringe inside, barely able to hold back the way his shoulders wanted to rise towards his ears in discomfort.

Peter moved his eyes away and quickly drifted through the store, there were black signs with printed, white, block letters saying what was in each isle.

He looked around before his eyes caught the words “canned foods.”

Peter limped over; his usual quiet footsteps hindered due to the weight on his foot constantly switching between each other. He sighed as he turned into the isle and came across a variety of canned food.

There were many things, soups, fruits, vegetables. He decides to go on the best quantity for the lowest price.

Most of the canned goods were between $1.75 to $3.90. It depended mostly on the sizes.

There were only four sizes of canned food. Peter decided to stick with the third largest can, it looked as if it could hold a good three portions, if he stuck to only having two of those three portions every day or two, he would last awhile.

Peter ends up getting about 12 cans. Each $2.65, there was a deal for four cans for $8. So, Peter went for it. It saves him $7.80.

Peter also goes to grab some large zip lock bags for the food after it had been opened, along with forks and a pack of oats that he could eat with water and lastly a small bottle of laundry detergent, as gross as it is he only has to really wash his clothes this one time until he can get an income going. He added up the prices in his head and overall it came up to $34.25.

So, Peter will only have $90.75 left.

Peter goes to leave but sees someone that looks like Ned move out of the corner of his eye, he pauses and swallows before slowly, almost hesitantly drifting his gaze over to where the movement was, however there was nothing.

The fear toxin was starting to mess with him, like it did with MJ and Aunt May in the Library.

He heads to the front counter with his hands full of canned food. As he places each can down, they lady raises one perfect eyebrow before lifting the first can and scanning. Her curled hair flows just below her chest, colourful strands of blue, pink, and purple mix in with their silky black hair.

Peter watched the lady continue to scan, her nails were long and painted with small patterns making the nail polish raise. Her eyeshadow was a bold blue with a bright pink wing.

The lady scans the last can before raising her perfect nails up to the register, the bangles around her wrist jingle from the different charms all woven throughout the band.

“$34.25” She nods towards Peter, “Will that be cash or card?”

Peter watched as she tilted her head, it made her hair fall away from her ear showing different piercings all in different sections, one earring ran from the root of the helix to the lobe in the form of a black snake with golden shaped diamonds weaving throughout the snakes body, the eye was a beady blue.

Peter stares before his eyes catch a grainy photo in the background of his vision, he glances over and feels himself pale at the image, his heart pounds in his ear.

It was a grainy photo from the security camera on the outside of the petrol station, Dick is in the image also, holding his wrist. The only identifiable thing about Peter on the image is his clothing, his face is nothing but a blur of pixels and the low lighting in the image doesn’t help.

“Sir?”

Peter’s breath catches as he drew his eyes back up to the lady who was tapping her foot on the tile, both her eyebrows were raised now.

“Sorry, uh cash, please.” Peter mumbled, pulling out his notes. She holds her hand out as Peter passes them over, she begins to flip through them while licking her finger every couple of bills just like before.

Peter awkwardly glances away, trying to hide his face.

She suddenly hums and pushes the canned food along with his other products towards Peter before opening the cash register and grabbing his change of only 75c.

Peter buys a small shopping bag with the last 75c and stuffs most of his stuff in the shopping bag, the rest he puts into his regular bag before zipping it up.

The thermal printer starts to buzz before a long piece of paper containing information on his purchases in produced.

The lady rips the paper of the thermal printer, Peter listens to it rip. “Would you like the receipt?” She asks, already folding it up. Peter just nodded before taking the paper from her hand and stuffing it into his bag.

He would have to be more careful.

Peter hurries out the store with a quiet thank you before heading back down his alleyway. He knew where a laundromat already was, he had seen it when he was heading towards the jewellery store, so he heads over there, continually following landmarks which still mostly consist of spray paintings.

Eventually he stands outside the store, the building is painted completely white, the windows at the front were large showing the inside.

The words LAUNDROMAT were spray painted on the top of the building in blue, a washing machine with a smiling face was printed next to it with its thumbs facing up towards the sky.

Peter walks up to the door, there was a sign saying open in cursive, the sign looked like the type of thing you would see in a family home, a pink board with white writing and white roses swaying around the board, the rusty chain hung from a hook.

A sheet was taped underneath the open sign mentioning the opening times.

Peter limps in, a bell jingles from above him sending a long peal throughout the laundromat. Two people look up at him while the other six just continue lounging around on the benches provided, some on their phones while others just watched their machine with laser focus, watching the water swish around.

Peter takes a deep breath and looks at the machines. Washing machines were on the right and dryers were on the left. The machines stacked twice on top of each other on the side of the walls while the centre had a long table with washing machines and dryers lying back against the table.

Benches were places at the ends of the rows along with in between some of the machines every few sections.

Peter heads towards the back first where a small machine was that swapped notes out for change, he put in a $10 and $5 note and got it all in $1 coins, he could always get more.

With that Peter heads towards one of the washing machines near the centre, away from both ends that were already being used, he walks up to a machine and looks at the pricing.

It was $7 per large cycle, Peter wanted to do at least two to be safe. He takes his bag off and starts to take everything out of it to place it on the floor next to him, none of the clothes needed to be sorted so he puts all his clothes, the bag and the fanny pack into the laundromat.

It wasn’t a tight fit but it was close, he looks at the coins in his hands before picking out the amount he needed and putting them in the slot, he listens to each coin bang along the inside before settling inside the machine.

The buttons light up and Peter goes ahead and turns it on to regular, he adds the blue detergent, measuring it carefully in the cap before tipping it into the slot, pressing the on button he bends down to watch the washing machine start to fill with water.

“Wow, doing your own laundry! I never thought I would see the day.”

Peter feels his heart stop, before he clenches his jaw and looks towards the ground.

The fear toxin has officially kicked in, it’s worse.

“Wow, Peter, are you really going to ignore me? Very childish of you.” The voice taunts.

Peter starts to gather his belongings into his arms, before putting what he can in his paper and shopping bag, the rest he can just tuck under his arm.

A hand comes in front of his face before their fingers click as if trying to gain the attention from a dog.

“Peter.” The voice snaps.

Peter flinches away from the hand before his eyes drift up towards the owner.

Aunt May sits on one of the washing machines, her legs are crossed and swinging back and forth from where they hang of the front of the machine, she has a baggy white shirt on with blue jeans, her hair is that natural brown, it flows towards her waist, a few wisps of grey are threaded within the strands.

Aunt May’s glasses are on, the one she only uses when reading. She smiles when she makes eye contact with Peter.

“That’s better, didn’t I always tell you that you look at someone who is talking to you?” She asks, her voice dripping with a sweetness that makes Peter’s teeth ache uncomfortably.

No, Peter thinks. She didn’t say that because she knew that Peter use to have anxiety and struggled with making eye contact when talking to people. She instead uses to say that he can take his time and that just the small glances he made at her when speaking was worth the world to her because it showed that he was trying.

Aunt May leans back on her arms as she tilts her head. “So, what have you been up to?”

Peter glances at the other people in the store, no one is paying any attention to Peter, it makes him feel alone as if he is the only knight facing a fierce dragon that breaths fire.

Suddenly the sound of a bang echoes throughout the laundromat, Peter flinches, his heart jumping out of his shaking chest. He looks towards where the sound came from to see Aunt May, her eyes are glaring daggers into Peter, her words are the fire from the dragon.

“Don’t ignore me, Peter. I gave up everything for you, the least you could do is give me the smallest time of day.” She snarled.

Peter realised that Aunt May had slammed her foot onto the glass window of the washing machine, that was what created the loud bang.

Peter ignored his Aunt and looked towards the time on the washing machine.

27 minutes.

This was going to take a while.

“Are you serious Peter? You are ignoring me? Do you know how rude that is? I raised you.” Aunt May barks. Peter hears her clothes rustle as she jumps off the washing machine, he can hear the ominous tapping of Aunt May’s shoes on the grey, concrete floor.

The dreaded sound got closer. Peter clenched his hands hard enough for his nails to dig into the flesh of his palm.

He wasn’t sure how long this would go on considering he passed out in the middle of his confrontation with MJ. He takes a deep breath before it stutters at the smell of Aunt May’s perfume.

The flowery smell of Aunt May’s perfume, the one Uncle Ben got for her that one Christmas that she never stopped buying, it used to cause him comfort, make him feel safe and surrounded but now it made his throat feel as if it was closing up and his skin go cold in fear.

“Peter?” He feels the slightest brush of Aunt May’s fingers on his shirt making the hair on the back of his neck raise like a scared cat. The hand withdraws.

“I can’t believe this.” She mutters, voice as cold as ice. “You ignore me even after all I did for you, you took over my life. It was meant to be two weeks; you were meant to stay for two weeks yet your parents die on that plane and Ben and I are left with you.” She slams her hand on the top of the washing machine, the bang rings out into the laundromat again, however only Peter could hear it.

“You know,” Aunt May starts, her voice a shrill, “We use to talk about you after you went to bed, about how much you ruined our plans. We wanted to travel, Peter, and you selfishly took that from us.”

Aunt May moved towards him, he could feel her anger like the heat from the fire that was burning inside her. “We both used to wish that you would just disappear one day, hell, we would pray for it. We always talked about how much we didn’t want you.”

“Then, you go and get him killed and for what exactly? A drink from the deli? You stole all that from me.” She growled, however her voice rattled with something that Peter couldn’t figure out.

He hears Aunt May’s unsteady breathing; it makes him give in and look at the person who he wished to protect beyond anyone.

Aunt May is red in the face, her lips wobble with sobs. Her face had stress lines that carved deep within the skin. Peter feels his heart break.

“And then you become Spiderman,” Aunt May quietly whispers between them, “And I thought that maybe, it wasn’t all so bad, but then you had to go and let me down again.” She shakes her head at Peter.

She starts muttering something over and over quietly to herself before it starts to rise in volume until Aunt May is screaming the same three words over and over.

“I HATE YOU.”

Peter looks away, trying to keep the tears at bay. Dark thoughts start to swim inside his brain in a swarm. Aunt May continues screaming until her voice is raw and eventually it starts to drift off into quietness.

He traces his fingers over the timer.

23 minutes. Great.

Chapter 17: Bonnie

Chapter Text

Peter had washed his clothes twice before drying them once, all he had left was $92 after he walked out of the laundromat doors.

During all three cycles Aunt May had just walked around. She would go from trying to make conversation then switch to insults in the blink of an eye.

She had sat in front of washing machines and watched the clothes spin quietly as if in a trance ,then all of a sudden she was up and walking between the isles within the washing machines, sometimes doubling back or going in circles.

There was a moment where she sat in the corner and let out loud, desperate sobs that made Peter’s heart break. Then a couple minutes later she is back to screaming at him. Then were times where she would just sit beside him, face blank and completely still as she stared holes into the side of his head.

It made Peter’s spine shiver and the hair at the back of his neck stand, it was as if Aunt May was haunting him or having a breakdown and slowly losing her mind.

The thing that creeped Peter out the most though was when out of the corner of his eye he saw Aunt May walk towards the laundromat door, he heard the bell jingle as if she had left the laundromat but when he looked there was nothing there.

He didn’t have any more hallucinations after that, it was as if the fear toxin was aware that it’s time in his system had ran out and decided to make him hallucinate Aunt May leaving as if it had an awareness around it that it’s time was up and it was time to end.

Peter had the theory that the reason Aunt May was acting like that was because he wasn’t physically showing a reaction to the hallucination. Of course, inside his heart was pounding and he felt as if he was a thread of hair away from trembling arms.

He had also realised that he experienced fear toxin different to other people, when they came across the nasty effects people said it was like in the moment what they saw was true, like a constant nightmare they couldn’t wake up from.

They had described it like losing any comprehension that what they were experiencing wasn’t real, it felt as if it was completely authentic. They had lost the ability to realise the difference between imagination and reality.

‘It felt like it was actually happening, like it didn’t even cross my mind that it wasn’t real. I remember just watching and crying as my fear happened around me, legit, it effected all my senses, I could see it, feel it, hear it, smell it. Couldn’t taste it but it wasn’t like I was eating anything lol. My sister said when she saw me it looked as if I was interacting with a ghost and there were like five doctors trying to strap me down. When I try to think back to what I saw it’s like I am looking through a fog and only catching glimpses, but I can still remember exactly how I felt in the moment. Definitely not something I want to go through again.”

Someone had written that under a post asking what fear toxin felt like, all the replies were similar.

Peter, however, didn’t experience that. He could tell that it wasn’t real, just a hallucination based on his fear. He could also remember every single detail afterwards. He thinks it might be because of his spider genes flushing the toxins quicker, but it could also be because his spider senses are constantly warning him.

Another thing that was different for Peter was the fact that unlike others who just jump straight into their fears with no warning, his starts as if it was just a normal conversation before leading up to the hurtful words. He didn’t know whether it was because the toxin was weaker in his system or because it was trying to trick him into thinking what was happening was something that could one day just be true.

Maybe it was trying to give him everything he desperately wants before ripping it all away.

Peter didn’t know, either way he was glad to leave the laundromat.

As he strayed away from the building that now had a negative feeling stabbed into his heart he started to tug on the hem of his shirt before turning into an alleyway, his nerves were still skyrocketing from the encounter with Aunt May and even though it felt like the fear toxin had ran it’s course he still felt the effects of the paranoia sink deep into his bones.

Maybe it wasn’t even the fear toxin causing him to feel this way, Peter didn’t know anymore.

What he did know was that he needed to find somewhere to decontaminate before he gets the bag slung across his back soaked in the toxin again.

He decides to search up the public showers later, right now his plans were finding Bonnie.

Bonnie was the person Salz recommended when it came to fake documents. He pulls out the note, seeing a street written at the bottom of the page.

Block on Willow Alley, Xacxmi Racing Track. Just look for the cars. Park Row, Bonnie is the star, you will know the chick when you see her.

Peter looks at his map and sees a section labelled Park Row on the page.

He wasn’t far. However, with his foot he decides it might take him awhile.

Peter decides to start his walk there anyway.

The deeper into the Alley’s he goes the louder the sounds of cars are. As Peter peers out another Alley he sees a large clearing filled with people in colourful clothing.

Some wore dirty rags stained in oil while others wore pure leather and combat boots. There were a few dressed in expensive gowns and suits with enough jewellery to fill a museum. The crowd all leaned up against a wall about waist high, some of the richer people stood in stands to the side.

As Peter shoved his way through the crowd he finally got to the front and felt his jaw drop at what was in front of him.

There was a large clearing and a long, cracked road that had a slight curve to create an oval. There were large oil drum containers place in the middle in the shape of an oval, clearly to create a border. They had bright neon; orange spray paint sprayed on them to make them glow brightly.

There were a few large streetlights along the side, something Peter hadn’t seen anywhere else in Park Row.

The big thing was the different coloured cars at the start of what Peter assumed is the Xacxmi Racing Track.

Peter assumed that they were custom made based on the different revs of the engine and colours of the paint, one of the cars had purple neon lights wrapped around the fender flares of the car before going along the side at the bottom.

Another car was black with a bunch of large, red arrows along the side doors and silver lines going through the middle.

There was also a sleek blue car with the engine showing at the top, the steel metal glinted in the streetlights gaze.

Other different cars littered the area, some getting ready to race and others just for show.

There were large signs all around the area. Peter eventually realised this was an illegal betting ring that no one even had the time to shut down. Peter could see the book markers walking through the crowd, taking different bets.

Four race cars dash around the corner out of nowhere, two fighting side by side while the other two drag slightly behind in a straight line.

The front two are almost skidding into each other in a constant fight, one car being a lime green Lamborghini with yellow stripes and the number 22 painted boldly in white on it’s side. A black outline of the number and the yellow stripes races delicately across the vehicle.

The car next to it is a bright red Classic Chevrolet Camaro, the car is completely plain except for the large, singular white stripe down the middle. The wheels, however, have a red glow in the rims, creating a constant eye-catching radiance, making your eyes automatically feel drawn.

“It seems we have lost Bessie between the drift, however we still have Sugar and Enzo dragging behind the two tigers up top, as always Eleanor and Double.”

Peter looks up towards the top of an apartment building where a man stands with a megaphone yelling out towards the crowd. Peter could see that it was a man with a bright hot pink jacket on with a large white fluff that ran along the edges, the man had on pink party glasses, the one with the lines running through the lens that makes them look like an open blind.

People in the crowd went up in a loud road as the cars zoomed closer towards the end of the track, red cones were placed at the end where Peter assumed the finish line was along with a string with glowing lights that hung between an apartment and a large pole that had been bolted into the ground.

As the crowd gets closer the crowd starts to get louder, people stand up to scream while others start throwing the liquor in their drinks around in an excited yet drunken haze.

“It’s getting close, both Eleanor and Double are really pushing their engines.” The man announces.

Peter feels the cars rush right by him and feels the wind from the speed blast into him along with the people around him, he could hear the loud buzz from the motors as they drove closer to the line before they are suddenly skidding under the glowing lights just as the third car passes by Peter before being followed by the fourth.

“That was neck and neck.” The man lifts something to his ear before lowering it and talking to the crowd again. “I’m just getting word that the team below that the stewards are looking back at the footage.”

A bunch of people start chanting the names of either Eleanor or Double, each hoping to be louder than the other to influence the decision however the man behind the megaphone was not having it.

“Let’s have a couple minutes break people before the next race begins.”

People start to quiet down and roam around, some that were sitting stretch their feet while others just end up leaving the racetrack. Peter starts to walk towards the finish line, he politely makes his way in between the different people in the crowd, some swear at him while others just ignore him completely.

As Peter tries to make his way towards the finish line from the sidelines the announcer eventually speaks up again.

“Thanks for the wait everyone, wild ride if I’ll say.”

The man suddenly has everyone’s attention on him.

“Word got back that Eleanor won tonight again, just must be her lucky night, huh? Bet Double isn’t happy about that.”

Peter watches as half the crowd erupts into screeching cheers that make Peter wince due to his hearing. As Peter glances over the side of the track he spots the car to the red Classic Chevrolet Camaro. A leg steps out first, covered in boots and straps of racing gear before a body follows.

A man stands next to his car, holding his hand up in a wave towards the cheering crowd, there are belts all along his chest for style and stripes of red and black alternate across the front of his vest.

“Eleanor’ a beauty, ain’t she? They did her up real well for the race.” A middle-aged man said next to him, a beer was held in his hand as he gestured towards the man with his glass.

Peter looks at the man, or woman with a raised eyebrow, the person was clearly younger than the man by a decade.

He awkwardly responds to the man, “Uh, I guess.”

The man next to him hums in agreement as he takes a sip of his beer. “Would love to crack her open and take a good look inside. Take her for a ride, you know? Bet I can really push her past her limits.”
Peter felt himself flush as he gaped at the man next to him.

What the f*ck.

Peter could not believe the man just said that in public, let alone about another person.

Peter is about to speak up before the man speaks again, “Absolute beast of a car she is, heard the driver made her engine from scrap metal.”

Oh.

Peter felt his flush deepen in complete embarrassment and mortification. He clears his throat. “That’s good to know. Uh, anyway I was wondering if you knew where I could find Bonnie?”

The middle-aged man looks Peter up and down before taking a sip of his beer, “Little young for the lass, don’t you think?”

Peter swallowed, aware by the fact that the man’s eyebrows scrunch in concern that his face has become an incredibly unhealthy red.

“No,” He denies before speaking again. “Uh, wait I mean yes.” Peter stumbles over his words. “I don’t know, look just do you know where she is, please?”

The man snorts at Peter’s fumbling before opening his mouth to speak when suddenly the man with the megaphone speaks up again.

“We have our seventh race tonight out of twelve, the cars are lining up. We have Popeye, Cherry, Underdog and Peggy up on the line.”

Peter looks towards the finishing line seeing another set of cars all different models and colours. Peter eventually realises that the start and finish line are the same line, meaning the track is a loop for the most part.

“During race seven bets for race eight can be placed. Look for the lovely people with orange vests. All winnings are collected at the end of the night so be careful with how much you put on in one race because you won’t be able to use your winnings for awhile!”

Peter feels himself be pushed straight into the side of the track making the breath be stabbed out of his stomach, the man next to him is also shoved creating his beer to be spilt down the side of his glass. People behind Peter continue to shove him, trying to get a good view of the new cars lining up.

“Racers, you know the rules, three laps around the track to win. Sabotage is allowed within the boundaries of the rule book, if said rules are broken, aka injury occurs or damage to the racetrack are done purposefully you are immediately disqualified from the current race and put in the naughty corner for your suspension, three strikes and you’re banned from the track.”

“Injuries included are anything that require professional care, so don’t come crying with a small boo boo ‘cause you will be told to f*ck off and get out. Lying about injuries is an immediate ban from the racetrack.”

“Remember people! Any bad blood between you and others is dealt with outside of the borders, caught in a fight and you are immediately kicked out, similar to racers, three strikes and you are banned for life.”

The announcer clears his throat with a grin. “Now could our gorgeous star please come up to start the race.”

The crowd suddenly erupts in excitement.

As he looked towards the front there was a woman standing between the cars getting ready. Her hair was as black as the ink from a cartridge, the locks running down her back looked like the strokes of a fountain pen, her skin was a golden bronze. Peter couldn’t see her features due to the fact her back was facing him but as she raised a black and white checked flag.

She stood in the middle and held the flag up in the air.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, start your engines,”

The sound of the different cars turn on, different revs and vrooms began to shake the ground, breaking the atmosphere like a drum.

“You know the saying, if you can still control the wheels, you just ain’t going fast enough. Now get ready! Three, two, one.”

The woman immediately brings the flag down in a quick swipe, the flag waves and the cars burst past in a hurry, dust and smoke being left behind in a whirlwind.

The middle-aged man smirks into the rim of his glass. “There’s your lass right there.” He remarks, tipping his head towards the woman with the flag who had turned around to watch the cars drive off.

The man lifts his hand and pats Peter on the back hard enough that it would make anyone else lurch forward slightly, “Well, Imma go make bad decisions with the bookie, see ya around squirt.”

Peter watches the man go with a grimace as he shoves his way through the crowd.

~~~

Peter had to wait for the last race to finish before even getting close to the woman, however finally she comes close enough to the side of the fence for Peter to catch her attention.

“Excuse me miss,” He starts “Are you Bonnie?”

The woman looks at Peter with a perfectly raised eyebrow, her cheeks are covered in red glitter making her skin gleam like rubies under the lights, her lips are painted bright red to match the glitter. Her eyes are a forest green with specks of blue running through the iris.

“Why?” She asks.

“I was told I could find someone to help me in Park Row.” Peter mutters as he grabs onto the side and leans over it slightly to get closer to the woman, so he doesn’t have to yell over the chattering crowd that are still clearing out.

The woman crosses her arms and tilts her head, strands of hair fall into her face that she flips away and over her shoulder with a small swivel of her head. “Who’s askin’?”

Peter bites his lip nervously as the woman stares at him, her eyes picking him apart. “Uh, me.” Peter mumbles, his IQ quickly dropping along with his gut.

The woman snorts loud and hard with a grin. “sh*t kid, you ain’t from around here.”

“I guess you could say that.”

The woman slowly nods at Peter. “Word of advice, round in Gotham we call Park Row as Crime Alley.” She grabs the hair band from around her wrist and tips her head forward.

“Oh, ok. Why Crime Alley?” Peter asks as he watches the woman gather her hair in her palm before bringing it into a high pony.

The hair falls towards the top of her shoulder blades. “I don’t know, maybe ‘cause it’s full of crime? Figure it out.”

“Oh sorry.” Peter flushes. “So do you know where I could find Bonnie?”

The man with the megaphone suddenly comes up behind the woman and flings an arm around her shoulders.

“You’re looking at me, how can I help ya?” The man in the pink jacket responds as he lowers his shades to make eye contact with Peter. Peter decides not to say how unnecessary that is considering the fact they legit have holes in between them.

Before Peter even gets a word out the woman shoves his arm of her shoulder and elbows him in the side, “Oh Bugger off Char, get a f*ckin life.”

The man rolls his eyes before holding out a hand to Peter, “Hi, I’m Charlie Kohl, but People call me Char or Sexy, take a pick.”

Peter goes to shake Char’s hand but the woman shoves Char away.

“Sorry about him, I’m Bonnie. What can I do for ya sweetheart?” Peter blinks before pulling his hand back.

“Oh, uh, Salz recommended you to me for some…fake documents.” He flushes, hesitating at the last two words, he felt guilty for planning and participating in a crime but once he got settles he would never have to do anything like this again.

Bonnie hums in amusem*nt “Let me guess, he said you get a discount too?”

“…does it not apply?”

“Yeah it does, don’t know how though.” She shrugs “I think he sorta came up with it himself and I’m just humouring him at this point.”
“Lets go somewhere more private.”Bonnie grabs a pen from her pocket as she lifts the gate near Peter so he could follow her, she leads them into a small box made of steel, inside there is a desk, large camera and a computer that all seem to be getting packed up.

“How did you get this race track up and running?” Peter asks in curiosity as Bonnie goes to sit in a chair. Peter hears more then see Char walk in behind him before cloing the door.

Bonnie looks out the window towards the race line, "Couple gangs came together to get a ring up, started as a trafficking ring for drugs hidden under a racetrack but Hood came and shut that down.”

Char chimes in from the back. “He said we could keep the racetrack as long as it doesn’t involve any kids.”

“However, we needed the kids to clean the cars and Hood knew they needed the money, so we compromised.” Bonnie grins. “A group of us run the racetrack along with the betting ring, while the kids get jobs cleaning up around here. No one under eighteen can bet or drink and no drugs or fighting are allowed within the outer borders of the track.”

Peter was intrigued.

“Wait, so Hood knows this is a betting ring, but doesn’t care?”

Bonnie purses her lips while Char responds. “It’s not that he doesn’t care, it’s more that he supervisors through other people but as long as no kids are involved in any crime then we are in the clear.”

“Anyway,” Bonnie nods towards Peter. “What do ya need?”

Before Peter can think of a respond his mouth tumbles out a word for him. “Everything.”

“Expand.” Char says as he leans against one of the walls.

“ID, Birth Certificate, Graduation Certificate, Police Clearance, just anything and everything.”

Char whistles. “sh*t kid, what trouble are you in?”

“No trouble, just wanted a fresh start.” Peter mumbles, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“No one comes to Gotham for a fresh start.” Char confronts before Bonnie interrupts.

“Ok, it’s gonna cost ya, probs a couple grand all together.”

Peter frowns at Bonnie, wiping his hand over his leg. “Uh, ok what’s the cheapest?” He mutters

Bonnie clears her throat grabbing a page full of the information for each race before flipping it over to the blank side. “Probably the ID, usually I charge three-ten for a driver’s license but ‘cause Salz sent ya I’ll give it for two-fifty.”

“I have $92.”

Bonnie pauses with her pen hovering in mid air, she looks at Peter with a completely blank expression. “And you thought that would get you somewhere?”

Peter shifts from one foot to another. “No, I was just hoping this discount would be big.” He mutters, shrinking in on himself however Bonnie just shakes her head.

“No deal kid, come back when you have the cash.”

As Bonnie gets out of her seat to start wrapping up the cables, Peter speaks up in a desperate last attempt. “Wait, is there anything else I can do?”

Bonnie pauses from where she was wrapping a cable around her hand before turning towards Peter. “There is something.”

Peter waits for her to gather her thoughts before she continues.

“You fast kid?” She smirks.

Peter doesn’t even hesitate. “When I need to be.”

“Ever ran drugs kid?”

Char pushes himself of from the wall .“No Bons, don’t you f*ckin’ dare. We were legit just talking about the this, like, ten seconds ago.”

However Bonnie just ignores him.

Peter looks at Char before his eyes drift back to Bonnie. “Uh, no.” He whispers as his shoulders raise towards his ears.

“Bonnie,” Char speaks up, completely serious before standing in front of Peter defiantly. “You know Hood’s rule, the only reason this thing still happens is ‘cause all kids involved just clean up for extra cash.”

Bonnie finally looks at her companion in boredom now that he is blocking her line of sight of Peter. “Hood’s not in town.” She mocks while rolling her eyes.

Char stays firm. “Doesn’t matter, word will still go back to him, his gang are everywhere.”

Bonnie instead leans to the side to look at Peter up and down before tilting her head. “How old are ya sweetheart?”

“uh…I’m 17.” Peter says.

Char’s head swivels to him in disbelief, “sh*t, really?”

Peter just shrugs.

“You could always lie.” Bonnie’s words make Char’s head turn back towards her just as quickly before he steps away from both of them, Peter is surprised his head hasn’t twisted off yet.

“f*ck, Bon. Whatever you do I’m not a part of it. I don’t want no bullet between the eyes.”

Bonnie just waves him off. “He could pass for over 18.”

“He could pass for just starting puberty.” Char rebuts, Peter stares at him in complete offence before they go back to Bonnie at her next words.

“What do you say kid?”

Peter hesitated. This was something he didn’t want to do, especially if it could get him on a watch list with an vigilante. Running drugs was something Peter knew kids did all the time, it was something he had been working on getting stopped in Queens before he was dusted.

He also knew the effect that those types of drugs had on people, the amount of bodies he has had to report in would forever be ingrained into him. He shakes his head, he may have broken a lot of his morals but this was one he wouldn’t be persuaded in.

He would rather die.

“No thanks,” Peter swallows. “I don’t run drugs.”

Bonnie shrugs “Bugger,” She pauses, thinking before her eyes light up. “I guess there is one more thing.”

Peter immediately nods in desperation.

“How sneaky are you?” Bonnie asks, walking towards him.

“Oh, Bloody Hell Bonnie, now you are gonna get him killed.” Char immediately goes to interfere, however Bonnie puts her hand up.

“I can be sneaky, I swear.” Peter responds eagerly.

“Great,” Bonnie claps her hands together. “I know exactly what you can do.”

Char shakes his head in dread before he heads towards the door in defeat. “Hood will kill you if he finds out about this.”

“Then don’t let him find out.” Bonnie grins, keeping her back to Char as she drags Peter towards the table to write out a deal.

The metal door opens.

“For f*cks sake.” Char mumbles before Peter hears the door slam behind him as Char leaves the room.

Chapter 18: Eye Spy

Chapter Text

“You remember the plan, correct?” Bonnie asked as she threw the black face mask towards Peter.

Peter didn’t even look in the direction to catch it as he continued tugging on the black hoodie over his head. “Yes, Bonnie. I do.” He muttered as he looped the mask over his ears and pulled the mask down underneath his chin.

Char stood to the side, sitting on a table as he mindlessly spun a Rubik cube over and over. He had been more silent recently as the days counted down towards this moment, only saying a few things here and there. Peter knew Char wasn’t happy with the situation, however he kept silent and just continued to do his complex puzzles.

Aunt May used to say he always had a gift when it came to reading people which is why he had realised within the first few days of staying around the two partners in crime that Char was almost at a level of intense genius to rival Einstein, Peter estimating the man’s IQ to be around 160.

Yet he also noticed that Char wasn’t even aware of it himself, a genius yet oblivious, instead living inside his own bubble. Based on questions he asked others it was obvious that Char hadn’t realised that not everyone had the same level of intelligence as him.

Which is why Char wasn’t surprised when Peter started answering questions that would make most people’s brains malfunction, instead thrilled at the fact that someone was making conversation instead of ‘ignoring’ his topics.

Bonnie however, was. The first time Peter had put his own thoughts on the table when Char asked his opinion about the Retroactive Precognition theory she just stared in silence for a few moments before saying “What the f*ck?”

“Put that brain to good use and listen to your gut instinct even if it’s wrong.” Bonnie said as she turned towards her computer in the corner. “If you feel the need to run, then run. Don’t hesitate Peter.”

Bonnie was intelligent in a different way, Peter knew that there was a range of different types of intelligence, unlike most people who thought that to be considered smart you had to be good at the basic four courses, math, english, science and history. Bonnie sucked at those; Peter realised this when Bonnie had used division when asked about multiplication.

Yet she was a whizz on the computer, Peter had seen Bonnie crack codes like she was changing a car tyre on the track, quick and efficient.

Bonnie continued to type on the computer, her fingers flying over the keys creating quiet taps throughout the room. “Also, make sure to bandage that foot before you go.”

Peter nodded as Char reached beside him to throw Peter the clean bandage before he started wrapping it around his foot.

After Peter had agreed to the deal, Bonnie and Char had made sure he was kept fed and hydrated. They had given him medical treatment for his foot and head, making sure it was clean and bandaging it every couple of hours.

It took a while to fight the infection that Peter had gained due to negligence but after he got a routine with his meals it had healed pretty quickly.

Bonnie had made it clear that after this they would part ways and Peter was okay with that. As much as Bonnie and Char had helped him he couldn’t have them watching every move he did under a microscope. He could tell they were already suspicious of him, only giving the information he needed for this task.

As Peter tucked the last of the bandage in, he put his shoes on and stood up. Every article of clothing on him was completely black.

Peter spun around. “How do I look?”

“Like an emo going through a mid-life crisis,” Char mumbled to himself as he messed up the finished Rubik’s cube. Bonnie rolled her eyes, “You would know, wouldn’t you Char?”

Peter raised his eyebrows trying to imagine the man who wore nothing but bright colours in all black. Char seeing Peter’s shock explained. “It was high school, I’m a changed person.”

“Nothing wrong with being emo.” Peter shrugged making Char grin.

Bonnie spun towards Peter, “I won’t be able to talk to you at all after you get near the building, the warehouse you are heading to have different materials blocking signals from left to right. You are all on your own.” She rubbed her head, “The place is like a bubble, you can’t communicate with people on the other side, but you can communicate with the people on your own. Get it?”

Peter nodded, “Yeah, I know.”

Peter had a small microphone strapped to the front of his jumper along with a cassette tape shoved into his black leggings. Cassette decks were extremely hard to come by around here which is why Bonnie and her gang used them so regularly.

The cassette would record anything going into the microphone and later he would trade it for his ID.

“Ok, As long as you can get me any type of information then we are good, anything extra that I see as valuable and I’ll print more document for you, but as of now,” Peter watched as Bonnie reached into the pocket of her jeans, “This is all that’s on the table.” She muttered as she placed the driver’s license on the table.

Peter had already filled in a form of all the information he wanted on the driver’s license.

Peter decides to go with a fake name in case someone is looking for him despite the odds. He will always be Peter Parker and refer to himself as that with the people he trusts but in the eyes of the law he is Peter Reilly who is a 19-year-old male.

Reilly was Aunt May’s maiden name before she married Uncle Ben, it gave him comfort to have something that belonged to her with him right now, even if it was nothing but a name.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna be 21?” Bonnie had asked “What’s the point of a fake if you can’t drink with it?”

“It’s complicated.” Was all Peter replied to her questions.

“Ok. I’m ready.” Peter said as he stretched his shoulders.

Char smiled at him, “Goodluck kid.” Bonnie nodded. “The meeting is in about an hour so you better get running.”

Peter licked his lips, taking a deep breath he lifted the mask over his mouth and nose before he walked out the door.

Peter headed towards the warehouse slowly; he didn’t take the rooftops due to being slightly aware about the fact that there are vigilantes patrolling all around Gotham so instead he ran through the different alley ways that Char had drilled into his head.

Char had made sure that if Peter did this he was going to have as many escape routes as possible.

As Peter came closer to the location of the meeting, he felt his adrenaline start to spike.

He knew he could die tonight, before explaining what Peter was going to do, Bonnie had explained all the risks and consequences associated with the task.
He could be killed, tortured, trafficked. Even so, Peter still felt confident enough in his skills. He had dodged bullets, held on to the outside of a burning plane, pulled a cruise ship together...mostly.

He could handle a couple mobsters.

The warehouse just came within Peter’s vision as the moon started to peak from behind the clouds, creating a small beam over the abandoned building.

It looked as if it had been frozen in time, the warehouse stood tall, surrounded by metal fences, old machinery hung around the place like a scrap yard, most of it rusted due to time and the weather.

A large crane loomed over the warehouse, the thick chain creaking as it swung left to right slightly without a single breeze.

Peter watched from behind the fence as two pick-up trucks pull up, both black. A few people sat in the cargo bed on the back of the truck while some stood, peering over the top of the roof. There was a spare tyre strapped to the back of each car.

Three people dressed in different coloured suits jumped out of the car.

One of them was dressed in a forest green shirt, they had a mask strapped around their head with the beak of a bird along the nose.

Another in a blood red suit had a mask on that only covered their eyes and went up towards their hair in feathers lined with gold.

The third person had on a Bright yellow suit with the mask of a lion, a thick hairy main going down the side of the head. His muscles bulged, veins appearing as he walked.

All three of them worked together to get the gate open, the man in the lion mask opening one door while the other two pulled the other, eventually both trucks went in before the doors were pulled closed again.

Peter put his feet against the fence and used the friction to climb, not wanting to risk any cameras catching footage of him using his powers. As he jumped over the fence he headed towards a small window near the top of the warehouse, there were a line of crates going up towards the window however Peter would need to jump.

As light as a feather, Peter step back before taking a running leap and grasping onto the ledge of the first crate, his shoes burned at the friction due to the material being too thick for his powers to get through.

However eventually he was able to get up towards the window, quietly he climbed in before crouching on top of the rafters that kept the warehouse stable.

Which is how he found himself spying on Black Mask.

Peter remembers reading about the sad*stic villain in the library.

Black Mask was first noticed rising the ranks of villainy in the early 2000s, known for being ‘The Crime King’ of Gotham Underworld just behind the infamous Anti-Hero, The Red Hood.

Black Mask has been confirmed to lead the Mafia the ‘False Facers’ the name originating from Black Mask’s signature wooden black face mask.

Black Mask and Red Hood were both known to go to war for “no man’s land” also famously known as Arcade Passage, although due to massacre and bombings the fight for territory had come to an abrupt stop.

The Mafia Boss has a Black Wooden Mask that has been fused permanently to his face and is rarely seen due to staying behind the scenes of his crimes, however witnesses and victims of his crimes have said he wears a black and white suit. His gun is known to be his signature weapon.

It is rumoured he has many ‘dirty cops’ under him, however that has yet to be confirmed or denied. He is also suspected of owning many popular business and organisations that he is hiding his illegal operations behind, but that has never been proven true.
Due to Black Mask rarely being caught he is still in the top five criminals with the most success escapes from Arkham Asylum.

All in all, Black Mask is seen as one of the most dangerous criminals in Gotham.

Last Edited: 22/12/2012

Peter could see Black Mask wave his signature gun around like a prized toy as he laughed with a few random people sitting around an old wooden crate. His famous suit was ironed to a crisp, completely clean except for the small speck of blood on the white collar that seeped deep into the fabric.

His shoes were black leather that were polished enough to make them shine, despite the dusty floor beneath them, he had black gloves on and his famous mask that was stuck to his face. Peter could see two, wide eyes peer through the wooden crevices, looking around so large it was as if the man had been removed of the skin around his eyes along with his eyelids, just leaving behind two white balls with the pupil in the middle and a shiny glaze wrapping around the organs.

Peter shuddered when Black Mask grinned, his perfectly white teeth all on display. His voice was a deep, echoing rasp that made Peter’s spinal cord buzz beneath his skin.
“It’s been a long few weeks hasn’t it.” Black Mask started as he looked out towards the small group of people.

Bonnie said this meeting would be with only the higher up members of the False Facers. The most trusted.

Black Mask nodded to himself as he stalked around the crate. “Mhm, yes. Very draining. Very draining indeed.” He rubbed his gloves together, Peter could hear the sound of the silk, making his skin tingle with heat uncomfortably, silk was something he always hated.

“But you all stood by me.” Black Mask said, grinning as he spread his arms out and spun his gun. “We are all family here, a unity!”

Peter watched the people around Black Mask raise their hands in joy, cheering went around the moulded crate.

“It seems congratulations are in order, ladies and gentlemen.” Black Mask rasped as he threw a briefcase onto the crate. Peter could see a lock and key at the front of the briefcase, he watched as Black Mask pulled out a silver key with a small black skull with red eyes sitting at the top.

The infamous villain placed the key into the lock and Peter listened to the lock click as Black Mask twisted the key. As he lifted the briefcase, there was nothing inside.

Peter scrunched his eyebrows in confusion before Black Mask pressed his glove covered finger along the side of the case, Peter wasn’t sure what the man was looking for but before he could come up with a theory a keypad popped out from the middle of the case.

The keypad had the digits 1 to 9 in the usual formation, the numbers glowing in the low light around the warehouse. Peter leaned closer on the rafter, Black Mask started to type into the keypad, seven beeps, barely catching a glimpse of the last three digits of the passcode from where Black Mask had covered it with his hand.

201

Peter felt his mind flash a blinding white at the number, resonating with the images of the golden curves from the last time he had seen those figures when Black Mask’s gravelly voice suddenly pulled him back to the present. His spider sense started to tingle again. Peter glanced around him before looking back at the scene in front of him.

The briefcase had opened up again and inside was a ragged purple rock in cased in glass.

“We have officially gotten our hands on something that can change the world as we know it.” Black Mask grinned as he grabbed a pair of small crucible tongs, he gently picked the stone up and waved it around, it left small glows of purple trails behind it.

Peter’s ears started to ring, his heart raced at the power that surged from the stone.

“That old bastard had no idea what he was giving away.” Black Mask turned towards the man in a light grey suit and white mask representing a small, white mouse, the ears were large and there were black whiskers painted in sharpie along the front. “I have you to thank for that, huh Martin?”

The man in the mouse mask, Martin bowed his head as if speaking to royalty. “It was an honour to assist you.”

Black Mask let out a loud belly laugh, running his free hand over his wooden face. “Of course, Martin, why don’t you come up here?”

The man hesitated, tugging at his tie, a nervous tick. He started to stutter before Black Mask cut him off with a wave of the hand with the rock, “Yes, come on Martin! No need to be shy. After all, we are family.”

Martin sniffed before walking up towards the front of the crate with his meek shoulders covering his ears in a slouch. Black Mask patted him on the back. “Welcome, come here, stand beside me.”

As Martin stood beside Black Mask, the villain raised his gun and patted Martin’s back with the weapon. “Martin here has done so much for me over the years.” He started, “I wouldn’t be here without him.” Black Mask said towards the crowd. “Isn’t that right, Martin?”

Martin stumbled over his words. “Uh, no of course not, sir. I think your leadership is the reason we have come this far.” Black Mask let too many teeth show as he ran the cold metal of the gun along the side of Martin’s face, causing the small man to flinch back slightly.

“Charming, aren’t you? But I can’t have all the credit.” Black Mask let out a chuckle as he put his arm around Martin. “Loyal, Smart and one of my most trusted, aren’t you Martin? You have been beside me since the beginning.”

Black Mask looked at the man, Peter could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m sure there have been times where you second guessed me, right?”

Martin shook his head desperately. “No! Of course not, I would neve-”

Black Mask whacks Martin on the temple, making him fall onto the floor the sound creating a loud whoosh, Peter sucked in a breath as Black Mask raised his gun in one hand towards Martin, the purple stone still between the instrument in the other. “Then why did you start a revolution against me? You think I didn’t see it coming a mile away?”

The room went quiet as the villain stepped closer to Martin, each thump of his shoes clicked against the pavement. Martin started to shake as blood dripped from his temple, staining his white mask red.

“I built this place up from the ground.” Black Mask said as he held his shoulders back, radiating an air of authority around him. It made Martin cower, leaning in towards the ground as if he wanted it to open up and swallow him whole.

“I gave you a place to belong and this is what you do? They aren’t loyal to you Martin.” Black Mask crouched down, leering at the man below him. “They are loyal to me, because I am the one that provides for them, I am the one that protects them.”

“I am the one who made them who they are today. We are a family,” Black Mask spat harshly into the silent warehouse.

“Isn’t that right boys?” He hollers into the warehouse as he stood up proudly at his creation. The faithful people under his command start to whoop and shout.

Black Mask laughed as he brought the stone closer to his eyes, making then glaze in a purple glow. His voice turned to a hiss, “We will become unstoppable.”

Peter gripped the rafters as his breath was sucked out of him whole.

Black Mask raised the gun,

Peter leaned forward ready to jump,

Black Mask waved the stone,

Peter heard a gasp and then…

A black blur swiped to the side of his vision before something wrapped around his mouth, another arm wrapped tightly around his waist, locking his arms to his sides.

Peter felt his back slam into a firm chest.

The stranger launched themselves along with Peter back into the shadows with steps as quiet as a gazelle.

As someone breathed up against his ear, voice a quiet whisper…

“Don’t move.”

Chapter 19: Party at the Warehouse

Chapter Text

Cassandra Cain was a lady of few words, ever since she first met Batman on the rooftop on the fatal night she rarely spoke, instead preferring to sign, regardless of what others said.

However, when she did speak her words were pronounced perfectly and clear despite her sentences being a jumbled mess. Sometimes words were placed in the wrong order, other times she struggled to convey what she was trying to explain. So, in the end it was just easier to sign, she found that the hand gestures came to her fluently, very quick and easy, the movements delicate and graceful, she found the silent language beautiful.

That didn’t stop people around Gotham from talking, they would always gossip about her ‘weirdness.’ Instead seeing her as entertainment to whisper about when she walked past. They pitied her, always saying she wasn’t always ‘there’ in the head, that she was a special nut in the batch, that there was something wrong with her, a defect.

She f*cking loved it. She owned it.

It was hilarious to her, seeing all these people wonder around like idiots. It made her hide smiles and sign taunts with her ‘twitchy hands.’ When they came up to her, expressing their sorrows and pity. She loved to sign the rudest things and watch as they mindlessly nod along as if they understand everything she was signing.

“I’m so sorry about your condition, it must be hard to live like that, I hope you are able to aim low towards your expectations in life.” A lady had said at a Gala, before Tim could speak up and defend Cass she started signing with a smile.

‘I can’t understand how you could be so rich, yet not be able to afford a brain.’

The woman nodded to her signing. “Yes, I agree.”

‘Thank you for becoming my next therapy topic, your face will cause me many nightmares.’

“You are welcome, darling.”

Tim had choked so hard Cass had looked over in concern.

Either way, it was fun coming up with insults.

It also helped that the family were able to sign back, even though they didn’t need too considering Cass could hear flawlessly, but it came in handy.

Last week when Damian was laying on the couch, sitting in front of the warm, flickering fireplace, Titus had fallen asleep on his lap. So, Cass and Damian signed to each other to not wake the sleeping animal, the well-loved dog’s ears twitching in his sleep.

After Jason had woken from a nightmare a few nights ago, he and Cass had signed quietly to each other as to not disturb the quiet atmosphere, even when Jason’s hands shook, she sat in front of him as the light from the lamp lit up the room.

When she went to visit Tim in the office, before entering she knocked on the glass wall that separated Tim from his employees, when Tim looked up, he grinned at her petite form before watching Cass sign a question. He happily signed back and a couple minutes later she was back with a Large Macchiato 2%, 3 pumps of mocha, 1 pump caramel, extra coffee and mocha drizzle, 2 teaspoons of sugar, extra foamed milk, extra cinnamon, lactose free and also a medium hot chocolate with a request of a smile made from latte art.. You can guess who ordered what.

Then with Stephanie two weeks ago where they snuck out for that 50% off deal at the thrift store, signing to each other all the way to the car before Stephanie got in and slammed on the gas, out of the Manor garage, laughing all the way down the driveway as Cass grinned in the passenger seat.

Then with Dick when they were at a gala a couple weeks ago, signing different jokes at each other from different sides of the ballroom, both in a secret competition where they had a completely straight face trying to get the other to crack a smile. Cass will never admit that Dick won with a dad joke.

Then every week with Duke, where she would teach him different words to sign due to him being the newest member and still learning. She would patiently wait with a small smile, fixing small mistakes and nodding with praise. They had just progressed to daily conversation topics. He was slowly getting fluent.

Then with Bruce a couple nights ago when they were both in a stakeout, sitting on the rooftop as they listened in to the conversation going on below them, signing different theories and sharing information to each other with quick signals and unique signs.

Which is how she found herself dressed as Black Bat crawling into an abandoned warehouse in Crime Alley with Robin hot on her tail.

Even though Red Hood and Batman are…just slightly above average terms currently before Red Hood departed with the Outlaws for their mission, he had specifically stated that only Black Bat, Spoiler and Robin were allowed on his territory and Red Robin can go in as an emergency rescue if necessary. The only time whenever any other vigilante can enter is if it’s a life or death scenario.

“So unless you’re bleeding out and on your last legs then I guess you’re waiting for me to get back, even if you get captured and are getting beaten black and blue from a crowbar, Unless you’re seconds away from flat lining no one else allowed, you gotta cover your head and deal until I get back. But you guys will be fine…well Cass will be, don’t know about you Blondie. Guess you will have to just keep your training wheels on for extra protection. I’m pretty sure we still have the hard hat with the princesses around here somewhere, just strap it on your head and you’ll be good to go. Oh, and Damian? Maybe you should just stay back…don’t feel like blast hosing your remains of the concret- OW bloody hell you little bra-” Jason had said, probably joking.

So, it was just them entering the warehouse. Cass in her Black Bat costume, Spoiler in her favourite eggplant purple cape and Damian in his iconic Robin costume.

Black Bat’s suit consisted of slick, midnight black Kevlar along with a golden and black alternating bat on her chest, Black Bat had a habit of binding her breasts down to keep them out of the way while she was fighting, a personal choice that she had continued to do since training from when she was young. A shiny golden belt ran perfectly along her lower waist, just barely brushing her high hip. Her usual cape had been removed due to a slit that was cut in the middle of it, however the change wasn’t impacting her performance, just made her feel a little more exposed during battle.

Spoiler’s suit was her well loved eggplant purple cape that flowed behind her like a veil, she had a black mask over her mouth covering everything below her eyes. Her beautiful sunshine blonde hair fell down around her shoulders, just reaching her collarbone before the longer strands are tied into a low ponytail under her cape. Her outfit was a full black suit with a eggplant purple sash that went across her chest towards her waist where her compartments were. She had purple heeled boots that went up to her knees. She also had a purple belt around each of her thighs, one containing a small dagger and the other a bunch of emergency supplies, bobby pins, tampons, hair ties, lip balm, scissors, taser, smoke capsules and nail clippers.

She learnt from past mistakes about the pepper spray, don’t spray it in windy areas.

Robin’s suit was completely different, instead of being black it was the legendary red, gold and green combo that had been passed down through three other people before the honoured legacy finally belonged to him. Damian Wayne had changed the design of his costume to incorporate everyone he looks up to. The bright red tunic, outlined in gold, was tight around his waist before flowing more smoothly towards his upper thighs, creating an outfit that didn’t hinder any movement, His tunic had edges of yellow along the sides and in the middle of his chest like straps.

His thighs were covered in Kevlar before going into high shin, forest green boots with red laces and green kneepads. His arms were also covered in black Kevlar before it went into green gloves that covered his hands. His mask was a forest green with white lenses, hiding his bright green eyes behind the misty white.

There was also a belt on his hips that wrapped around his frame, the belt was the same gold that lined the outfit. The cape was black on one side and yellow on the inside where it surrounded him, the hood attached was loose and rimmed with gold.

The gold rimmed black circle on his chest with the Gold ‘R’ symbolised his pseudonym, Robin.

The colours represented Richard Grayson. The original Robin, who now goes by Nightwing. His oldest brother.

The thick boots represented Jason Todd. The moment he first saw Red Hood slam his steel toe boot on a mugger’s hand, he wanted boots too.

The belt represented Timothy Drake. The belt that Timothy had made for himself before giving it to Damian after seeing the teen’s interest in all the pockets and traps.

The hood represented Stephanie Brown. Following the design of her suit with her signature purple hood.

The ripped edges at the end of his cape represented Cassandra Cain. Black Bat’s cape has ripped edges along the bottom.

The mask represented Duke Thomas. The shape of his mask the same as the one on Signal’s helmet.

The cape represented Bruce Wayne. His father, Batman and his signature black cape that swarmed the depths of evil in darkness.

The design represented Alfred Pennyworth. The grandfather figure who sat down with him and gave him the idea to incorporate his loved ones in the first place. Also, the only other person to know the secret behind each and every piece of his outfit.

As Black Bat and Robin quickly climbed through the small window on the side of the old, rusted warehouse they both immediately climbed up towards the long rafters going across the roof.

Spoiler went in through the other side, instead staying on the ground, laying crouched in a corner on one of the shipping crates.

They sat waiting before a couple minutes later the creak of the old sliding door sounded as it was pushed open to allow two cars through.

Black Mask got out of the front passenger door of the first car, he held the handle of a rich, black suitcase, the only other colour was the shiny silver clasps at the top that held the briefcase together.

Black Bat and Robin stared as the infamous man grabbed the top of his tie and tugged lightly as he walked towards the old decaying crate, one of Black Mask’s henchmen closed the truck door behind the man before following, meanwhile Spoiler stared at the people around her.

As soon as the door to the warehouse slammed shut behind them all, chatter and laughter was heard around the group, there were about twelve men all surrounding the briefcase, patting each other’s backs and slinging arms around one another.

Black Mask lifted his gloved knuckles and gently knocked on the wooden crate three times.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The room turned to silence; the air so quiet it rivalled the dead. Everyone, including Black Bat, Spoiler and Robin all brought their attention to the sound that had seemed to echo around the warehouse.

Black Mask looked upon his army, an orange glow casted over him from the dangling lights of the warehouse.

“Settle down please, I know this is exciting but keep your joy in for a moment.” He said. Even though the grim man kept his tone pleasant and courteous you can hear the deceptive underlining to his words, giving them a venomous bite.

Black Bat and Robin both watched as Black Mask put his briefcase on the crate before sighing humourlessly. He started to fiddle with his gun, everyone could hear the safety be flicked continuously on and off. The click of the metal echoed.

Finally, Black Mask spoke again, “Finally! You were acting like a bunch of kids on Joker’s crack. But I guess it can be an exception, we have worked hard.”

Black Bat’s tongue pushed against her teeth in her closed mouth for barely a second, the only change in her whole body, almost impossible to notice unless you knew about the habit beforehand.

Her posture stayed relax and neutral, shoulders slightly slouched, legs crouched, eyes focussed on Black Mask and the briefcase on the crate. Her breathing was slow and steady, heartbeat a healthy pace.

There was no adrenaline pumping in her veins, or any other natural hormones to interrupt her thoughts, she just stayed still.

Even with the presence on the other side of the warehouse.

“It’s been a long few weeks, hasn’t it?” Black Mask started. Black Bat let her focus drift to the dark figure that crouched on the rafters opposite them. Even if her gaze didn’t leave Black Mask she took stock of everything around her.

She knew that Robin was completely engrossed in the meeting underneath them. They also had the information being recorded to go over later, so her attention moved. Black Bat slowly lifted her head.

“Mhm, yes. Very draining. Very draining indeed.” Black Mask continued to drawl in the background.

The figure didn’t know they were there, judging by the posture, their head was also looking at the briefcase on the crate. They were covered in black fabric.

But you all stood by me. We are all family here, a unity!” Black Mask stated.

She wanted to inform Oracle of their special guest but due to the technological Barrier all she could do was pay attention to the stranger.

“It seems congratulations are in order, ladies and gentlemen.” Black Mask’s voice drowned the warehouse in a flood of eagerness.

All of a sudden Black Bat heard Robin inhale sharply beside her through his teeth, however her eyes didn’t move from the mysterious figure.

“We have officially gotten our hands on something that can change the world as we know it.”

Their hands suddenly twitched, and she saw the barest hint of panic in their body language. Or maybe confusion? Fear?

It was strange, it was as if the stranger had completely disconnected from their body. It was obvious to her that the mind was reacting to something negative, but it was as if the unknown form had no idea what it was, she couldn’t even tell if the figure was aware of their body’s reaction.

“That old bastard had no idea what he was giving away.” Black Mask stated. “I have you to thank for that, huh Martin?”

Black Bat felt Robin tug on her arm, she glanced over and saw him staring at the figure across from them before lowering back down at the meeting. Black Bat followed his gaze and stared blankly below, yet her eyes schemed.

Meanwhile Spoiler had crept away from the crate towards the line of cars around the warehouse. She dug into the side the compartment on the side of her thigh, her hand encased the small yet sharp blade. The blade was completely black, the handle also black with eggplant purple bandages wrapped around it. She likes to say it’s to help her grip but with her gloves it’s more for the design.

“It was an honour to assist you.”

Black Mask had a purple rock between Crucible tongs while he waved his gun around. “Of course, Martin, why don’t you come up here?”

Spoiler put the tip of her blade to the tyre of the first truck before she applied the tiniest amount of pressure creating a small slit in the rubber. The sound of the air being released whistled quietly in her ears. She did the tyre beside it before moving to the next car. Only doing two out of four tires.

“Yes, come on Martin! No need to be shy. After all, we are family.”

The man in the Mouse mask dallied up the stairs, ignoring the looks from the people around him. “Welcome, come here, stand beside me.” Black Mask said with a colossal grin.

Black Bat studied Black Mask’s posture before she tapped Robin’s arm, when the boy looked back at her she signed one word, her hands moving quick.

‘Hostile.’

Robin nodded. Before he signed back. ‘Do you want to approach our guest or distract Black Mask?’

Black Bat thought for a second.

“Martin here has done so much for me over the years.”

She signed back, ‘I’ll get our guest.’

“I wouldn’t be here without him.”

Robin agreed and started to leap towards the area right above Black Mask.

“Isn’t that right, Martin?”

Black Bat vaulted to the other side, deciding to approach the stranger from the back.

“Uh, no of course not, sir. I think your leadership is the reason we have come this far.”

Spoiler saw Robin move from above.

“Charming, aren’t you? But I can’t have all the credit.”

Robin was right above Black Mask, he reached into a compartment in his suit.

“Loyal, Smart and one of my most trusted, aren’t you Martin? You have been beside me since the beginning.”

Black Bat got closer. Her feet quiet along the rafters.

“I’m sure there have been times where you second guessed me, right?”

Robin got ready to engage.

“No! Of course not, I would neve-”

Black Bat heard the sound of a thud.

“Then why did you start a revolution against me? You think I didn’t see it coming a mile away?”

Now she was behind the stranger.

“I built this place up from the ground.”

Spoiler crouched and slowly wandered forward.

“I gave you a place to belong and this is what you do? They aren’t loyal to you Martin.”

The stranger got ready to jump.

“They are loyal to me, because I am the one that provides for them, I am the one that protects them.”

Black Bat’s arm’s reached out.

“I am the one who made them who they are today. We are a family,”

The stranger gasped.

“Isn’t that right boys?”

The click of a gun sounded.

“We will become unstoppable.”

Black Bat wrapped her arms tightly around the stranger.

“Don’t move.”

A bullet sounded.

The body in her arms flinched, before they both watched as the gun that Black Mask was holding was hit by a sharp, deadly weapon that caused the bullet to go off course. Robin jumped down on top of Black Mask while Spoiler dove forward.

Robin used Black Mask’s shoulders as a springboard as he leaped towards a man in a bird mask that was coming towards him. Robin landed in a roll before sweeping his leg, the strong limb tripped the man causing him to fall and bang his head on the floor.

Meanwhile Spoiler had slid underneath Robin as he leapt kicking away Black Mask’s gun. She watched as it slid along the concrete floor before sliding underneath an old conveyer belt that had been left propped up on its side. She watched Martin run behind a crate.

As the man Robin kicked fell towards the ground Robin leaped up and blocked the punch of a woman in a leopard mask that came towards him before grabbing her arm and flinging her down so that she landed on top of the already fallen bird masked man.

Spoiler spun into a crouch before she stood up, a man in a bunny mask ran towards her with a knife in hand. She grabbed the hand with the knife before pressing a pressure point to make his hand twitch and drop it. She kicked the knife away before using the captured wrist o tug the man behind her and then flinging her elbow back on her other arm cause a burst of blood to dribble under the mask from the man’s broken nose.

Two men and a woman ran towards one of the cars they had brought, one crammed into the front seat while the other two quickly rolled into the back. Robin made a dash towards them.

As the man in the bunny mask fell Spoiler ducked under another man who had raised their fist, his swing was slow yet heavy, he had the mask of a lion. Spoiler bowed under his arm before grabbing his shoulder from behind and flinging her legs around the man’s neck, choking him.

Robin jumped up and grabbed onto the truck’s back. His hands held steady as he swung his legs underneath him so that he was horizontal before he flung forward and kicked the woman in a goat mask in the face. She flung back and banged towards the side of the cargo bed. The man beside her in a bear mask grabbed a gun from his pocket and went to shoot Robin but as he landed flat on his back he rolled further from the man before quickly getting into a bend back and raising his legs over his head into a standing position. Cursing was heard before the driver’s seat door opened again and a man in a red mask with feathers lined in gold fell out of the truck door.

Spoiler used her weight and swung herself down in a circular motion so before her back hit the floor she twisted so that she was up top of the man below her. As the man desperately clawed at her legs, she sent a punch right to the temple, before doing it again until eventually the man went limp, completely knocked out.

Robin grabbed the man in the bear mask and twisted his arm away from his chest. Instead of doing the correct thing like Spoiler did he just decided to slide underneath the man’s arm before twisting it with him, he listened to the satisfying crack of the bone breaking and the man’s scream.

Spoiler glanced up towards the scream and saw the man that was once in the driver’s seat trying to run towards the closed doors. She grabbed a batarang from her pouch and threw it, hitting the man in the back of the knee.

Spoiler then headed towards one of the men in a Walrus mask, the tusks sticking out. She grabbed one of the tusks and used it to bring the man’s face down, so his chin hit her knee, she heard the sound of his teeth snapping close under the force. A man in a hyena mask went to punch her face so she lifted the man from her knee and twisted behind him, the man in the walrus mask’s head fell back limply as he took one for the team.

The man in the hyena mask swore before grabbing the limp man from Spoiler’s grasp and throwing him to the side out of the way, making Spoilers eyebrows rise. Before she could move forward the man pulled out a gun and held it at her.

She stared at him for a second. About to speak before a green boot kicked the guy in the face from behind, nudging the mask of and sending a couple teeth flying out of his mouth.

Robin stood behind the fallen man, scowling before he made eye contact with Spoiler. He sent a small smirk and she grinned. She knew he could see it by the crinkles at the side of her eyes that always appeared.

They turned towards Black Mask. Who was still holding the purple rock. Spoiler ran towards the man who pulled out a spare knife. He held the tongs with the rock behind his body shielding it.

However, as Robin was started to jump, Martin ran up behind Black Mask and tugged the tongs in the man’s hand. Robin continued to leap and landed on top of Black Mask, sending them both towards the ground. Robin grabbed the hand with the knife and held it down.

The purple rock flew from Black Mask’s hands and started tumbling towards a small grate. Everyone gasped.

“Spoiler!” Robin yelled, but Spoiler was already running towards the rock. “On it.”

Martin had gotten up and also started to bolt towards it.

Spoiler was a few steps behind.

Spoiler went to grab Martin but decided to wait and see if he could reach the rock before it fell into the grate.

She held her breath as Martin dove forward.

His fingertips touched the stone, barely skimming as the purple glowing rock ran over the grate, the lines in between the metal felt like the void.

Martin reached out his hand and finally grasped the rock. He got on his knees and tucked the rock in between his gloved palms. Spoiler could see a maniac grin on the bottom half of his face.

She reached out and pulled him away from the crate before swinging her legs around his front so she was straddling the top half of his back. She reached out and started to stuff her fingers between his body and the ground, trying to grab at his clasped palms underneath him.

He tried to throw his head back but Spoiler grabbed the back of it and slammed it onto the ground. She felt something try to tug at her glove.

Her eyebrows squished together and she frowned. “Did…did you just try to bite me?” She asked, however Martin just continued to wiggle harder.

Eventually she got Martins closed palm out from under him and went to pry the rock out before he dropped it, causing it to roll on the floor again. She pounced towards it.

She wrapped her gloved hand around the rock before dropping it instantly with a shrill scream. “f*ck!”

Spoiler looked at her hand from on her knees. It was burnt to a crisp, past red raw. Her hand shook as she stared at it, the fabric around her hand had incinerated leaving the skin of her palm behind. Her palm was a charred burnt brown, stinking of burning flesh. “f*ck.” She muttered again, her voice breaking between the words. The skin around it looked like melted glue, seeping into the wound.

"I think I'm gonna be sick." She gagged before looking away from the horrid sight. "Please don't puke." She whispered to herself.

It didn’t hurt at all except for the outer edges, it made her want to swear even more. It meant her nerves had been destroyed. Lucky it was only the middle of her palm, but it makes her eyes tear up.

“Spoiler!” She turned behind her to see Martin. The man was grinning at her in humour. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” She put her damaged hand behind her and just as she was about to leap up she saw a batarang fly into Martin’s side. Using the distraction, she got up of her knees and kicked Martin in the crotch for laughing at her injury. As Martin crouched to grab at his balls Spoiler lifted her leg and kicked Martin’s chest area making him stumble backwards.

Robin came up behind him and grabbed the back of the man’s head before slamming his skull into his knee, knocking him out completely.

Spoiler’s hand shook as she held it protectively to her chest. “Grab his gloves and lets get the rock and leave.” She muttered.

Robin nodded, before he slipped Martin’s glove off. However, before he walked to the stone he headed towards Spoiler and held his hand out. “Show me.”

Spoiler bit her lip with watery eyes, she put the back of her hand in Robin’s and watched as the boy’s mouth went into a straight line with clenched teeth. “Agent A will know how to treat this.”

Spoiler grinned, with glassy eyes, “I hope.” She muttered. “It is my dominant hand after all.”

With that Robin bobbed his head in agreement before putting Martin’s glove over his own. He touched the stone with the tip of his finger first but when nothing happened, he carefully picked up the stone and held it firmly in his grasp.

Spoiler looked around to find all the masked people tied up, including Black Mask. “You tied them up while I was fighting for my life?”

Robin rolled his eyes. “Forgive me for not realising you couldn’t handle a mouse.” He mumbled as he gestured towards Martin in the mouse mask.

A few years ago Spoiler would have seen it as an insult but now she could see the teasing tone the boy used. “Hey.” She started. “Remember when Nightwing screamed while taking a dump cause your secret mouse got out and into the toilet roll.”

Robin kept up a scowl, but Spoiler saw his lips twitch as he defended his oldest brother, the one he respected most for in the world. “That was different, it was a surprise attack.”

She snorted, before wrapping her arms over his shoulder due to not being able to use her dominant left hand. “Yeah, you could say it really scared the sh*t outta him.”

Robin paused, reaching for his grapple before continuing. “I’m telling Agent A you said that.”

Spoiler groaned. “You snitch!”

As they reached the top of the window Robin helped Spoiler through. “Just because I’m down a hand doesn’t make me incapacitated.”

Robin just shrugged.

“Where did Black Bat go?” Spoiler asked, taking off her sash as an emergency bandage for her wound.

“There was someone else watching the meeting, I’m assuming she got them out of there.” Robin replied, “I do not know where she went after.”

Robin puts his hand up to his ear and clicked on the comm. “Black Bat, do you copy?”

Spoiler switched hers own and waited also; it was silent. “Black Bat, do you copy?”

Suddenly Black Bat replied. “Cave, meet.”

Spoiler spoke up. “Wait, Black Bat. Are you okay though?”

Black Bat spoke again, voice soft. “Fine, cave, meet, now.”

“Copy that.” Robin accepted, before turning to Spoiler. “Let me assist you to the cave to get your injury looked at.”

Spoiler grins, “Awww and people say you’re a demon.”

Robin scoffed “Never mind, I’ll let you suffer.”

“No wait, Robby I’m sowwy!” Spoiler teased, her words said childish.

“Say it like that again and I will cut out your tongue and feed it to you.” He spat with a grimace, while also slowing down and helping Spoiler across every gap.

Spoiler smiled to herself. Damian had definitely changed.

Chapter 20: Cryptic Conversations

Chapter Text

“Don’t move.” Black Bat whispered in the stranger’s ear, the stranger flinched in her grasp, spine tense like the strings on a violin. She almost felt like she could feel the stranger’s warm breath on her hand through her gloves as they both silently watched the chaos down below.

She leaned in again, “We leave now.” She mumbled, words steady and firm in the stranger’s ear. The stranger steadily lifted their hand up to gently grasp her hand that was still around their mouth before slowly moving it away, Black Bat let her hand be guided.

“They might need help.” The male voice said softly, voice a quiet breath. However Black Bat lightly shook her head, knowing that the man could feel her hair, “They are good, strong. I…” Black Bat paused, looking for the right words. “I confident for them.”

The sentence didn’t sound right to her, the words weren’t articulated or fluent. Even so it didn’t matter to her, she has long since gotten over her insecurity over it. Either way the man didn’t comment on it, instead choosing to stay silent.

As her hand stayed firm around the man’s waist, she felt a small rectangular object in the waistband of his black leggings. She took a firm grasp before tugging the object out of the man’s black leggings and shoving it behind her back out of reach.

The man immediately turned towards her, “You know it’s rude to steal.” He mumbled; voice low. Black Bat just shrugged and held the object which she now noticed was a small black thing with two white dots and a line through the middle.

She wasn’t completely sure what it was, however, she had seen a box of the same things in a box on the bottom shelf in the library, the ones in the library had numbers on them, dates she presumed, this one though was completely blank. She held it in clear view of the man before lightly waving it.

Evading the man’s swipe for the object, feeling the wind of the powerful hand against her form she held it further away as she stated in a quiet voice, words clear with authority, “Follow.” Before she jumped away and towards the window where she and Robin had first entered from.

She couldn’t hear the feather light footsteps of the man behind her; however, she was confident the man had listened to her words either way. As she dashed along the rafters, she could hear the combat going on below her.

Black Bat finally leaped and grabbed hold of the window ledge from the window she entered before pulling herself up, her muscles strained. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing the man only a few steps behind her again.

“Please,” He mumbled quietly. “I really need that back, aren’t you like a hero or something? Stealing is wrong.”

Black Bat ignored his attempts at guilt tripping, instead she tilted her head to see the fight below better, her comrades looked fine. Spoiler looked as if she was having a blast dodging punches while Robin took out a few people over by the vehicles.

She glanced at the man again, repeating the same word as before. “Follow.”

Black Bat took a leap out of the window, air rushing around her at the speed of which she moved, she heard the man behind her barely curse before she saw the shadow of him leaping out behind her.

Black Bat dashed and twirled around different corners and rooftops, suddenly she paused.

Black Bat turned towards the stranger; her eyes met his just as the tips of his toes touched the rooftop.

Agile, fast, powerful.

She felt as if she could feel the heat of his strength against her, burning.

Very powerful.

Black Bat made sure she was just inside the border of the technology barrier, even though she couldn’t reach Oracle she wanted to make sure she had a clear connection through the comms to Spoiler and Robin.

She stared at the man, he took a slow step forward, Black Bat took one back, liking the distance.

He paused and raised his hands, as if trying not to startle a wild animal, Black Bat stopped an amused smile from overcoming her pale lips.

“Look,” He started. “I didn’t mean any harm, just please give it back and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“I know it all seems really suspicious, and well…anyway.” He continues, avoiding the fact that it was probably suspicious circ*mstanced. “I’ll leave and let you do whatever you want with Black Mask and stuff, I won’t interfere again. Promise” He begged. “Just, please.”

Black Bat watched with the gaze of a hawk as the man lowered his arms to his side.

Even though the man had his arms straight, Black Bat’s gaze narrowed to his right hand where she saw the slightest twitch, a brush of a thumb on a nail, as if wanting to fidget with something, maybe soothing mechanism, or an unconscious action.

The man leaned heavily on to his right foot. Injured on his left, even so, he looked like he favoured his right foot anyway, based on the twitch and the direction he is leaning, he is right-handed.

The man tilted his head towards the ground for barely a second before his eyes snapped up back to hers

Avoiding eye contact.

She kept her face passive.

In the small amount of moonlight provided, she could barely see the man blinking. He was blinking more than what is considered average.

“Scared.”

“What?” The man replied.

“Scared.” Black Bat repeated, “Unfamiliar…no, lost.”

The man took a step back, before crossing his arms. Crossed arms usually mean defensive, self-conscious, uncomfortable.

Taking a step back could mean nervousness.

She pointed at herself. “You are unfamiliar with me.”

The man shifted from one foot to another before again favouring his right side. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” His pitch rose lightly as his voice cracked.

It was obvious he couldn’t lie to save his skin.

“Lie.” She muttered. “Uncomfortable, Nervous.” She strutted forward confidently.

The man hung his head, his shoulders sat beside him as if there was suddenly a weight being strapped to them, his arms that were crossed now had clenched fists, however it wasn’t threatening, it was in a way that made the man seem…

“Defeated.”

“Please, I have no idea what you mean.” Despite the man’s shaking voice she could tell that he was honest this time. “I’ll do anything for the cassette. Just give me a list. I need this.”

She pointed at the man. “Name?”

The man took a deep breath, his shoulders closing in even more. “James.”

Black Bat lowered her hand, staring.

“Lie.”

The man unclenched his fists and dropped his arms to his side again, palms facing towards his body. “I…can’t tell you. I would but I can’t.”

Black Bat hesitated before she reluctantly gave in and nodded, truth.

“Why, here?” She commanded; her voice as hard as steel.

The man flinched away. “It’s not my place to say, but please. I promise I mean no harm.” Truth.

“You are not from Gotham.” She said. The man shook his head.

“Where you from?” She asked, despite her completely neutral face she was completely focused on everything that was happening around her, including the man to the point where she could see the slight rise and fall of his chest.

It was faster than average, shallower. Panic.

“It’s complicated.”

Black Bat studied the man again, slim figure with a slight hint of muscle. Most similar to Nightwing’s frame of body. However, the way he held himself was different, based on the tone of voice he was young, maybe late teens to early twenties, Black Bat had ranged between 16 and 21. Even so, she her gut was telling her to watch out.

She straightened her shoulders confidently, her words straight to the point like the tip of a blade. “You are danger.”

The man, or teen frantically shook his head. “No, I’m not. I promise.”

Truth.

Black Bat paused, her brain thinking carefully as if the world was in slow motion, she took in everything that had happened since the warehouse.

She pursed her lips before throwing the cassette tape to the teen and watched him catch it.

“Thank you.” He said in relief, she could see the teens mask move into a smile as he clutched the cassette tape close to his chest as if it was a precious treasure. “Thank you so much, you have no idea what this means to me.”

Gratitude, honesty.

Her comm suddenly cracked to life, “Black Bat, do you copy?” Robin’s young voice filters into the comm system, firm and professional.

Black Bat ignored Robin for a moment to nod at the teen in front of her “Go.” She ordered.

She studied the teen as he went to leap away, giving a quick wave before he drifted back into the shadows as if they had swarmed around him.

She knew she would be in trouble for giving the teen evidence, however she trusted her gut more than anything and her gut was telling her the same thing over and over.

Young, kind-hearted, dangerous but not to her.

Whoever the teenager was, if the time ever came, they would hold their own against her. It would be a blood bath until they are standing on their last legs, neither giving up until all they relied on was pure hope.

But the teen had good intentions and just wanted to be free from chains that couldn’t be seen by anyone but himself, however she knew that whatever was keeping him down was digging into his chest and slowly strangling him. He would need help, luckily, she had a family that could provide it.

Suddenly Spoiler’s voice was over the comms, slightly agitated at her lack of reply. “Black Bat, do you copy?” She asked, a little on the frantic side of professional.

Black Bat responded immediately. “Cave, meet.”

As she took a jump from one rooftop to another she felt a smile tug at her lips at the worried voice of her comrade, “Wait, Black Bat. Are you okay though?”

Black Bat spoke again, voice soft. “Fine, cave, meet, now.”

“Copy that.” Robin responded before it went silent. She took a deep breath, feeling the wind expand her lungs before it was let out in a sweep.

As she crossed the invisible barrier, she heard the small pings that were being played constantly into her comm to let her know she was back on the other side. She tapped the device in her ear.

Immediately, the pings stopped, and Oracle was talking to her. “Update, Black Bat?” She asked, her voice robotic with the voice changer.

Black Bat didn’t slow her pace towards the cave. “Me, fine. Heading to cave.”

Black Bat heard Oracle’s fingers whizz across the keys before she replied. “Noted, tracking you as we speak. Any medical attention required?”

Before Black Bat could say anything Robin, who had also crossed the barrier pitched into the conversation. “Spoiler has what looks to be third degree burns on her left hand.”

“Copy that.” Oracle muttered, typing the information into the data base as she continued, “Any other injuries? Robin? Black Bat?” Robin and Black Bat both spoke up.

“Negative.”

“No.”

“Alright.” Oracle confirmed, “I have informed Agent A.”

“Oracle, is there anything we can drive that isn’t two wheels, please?” Spoiler chipped in, “As much as I love my bike, I really don’t want to drive with my right hand.”

Black Bat mentally cringed from the last time Spoiler had driven with her less dominate hand, every month they would all get one day a month where they get to operate the Batmobile. Nothing bad happened except for the fact that they were both out and about with a mid-patrol snack and it was Spoiler’s turn to drive the Batmobile.

She ended up hitting a stop sign, before yelling out to a couple kids across the road, “This is why you don’t text and drive, kiddos! Take it from Aunt Spoiler.”

She wasn’t even texting; she was trying to prove to Black Bat that she could take the Bat-burger in one bite.

It was probably the only time that the Batman had ever actually received a fine due to the fact he can usually escape any speeding tickets or the works, however this time instead of following the Bat signal to a new case from Commissioner Gordan, it was Commissioner Gordan, two cops and a fine for damaged property.

Batman had to show up to the police station with his paid fine and ever since Spoiler hasn’t been able to drive the Batmobile, it was about two years ago now.

“I’ll send the Batmobile to your location. On the way back I’ll put it into automatic mode.” Both Black Bat and Oracle waited for the complaints due to the fact that everyone rarely liked using the automated control system due to the fact it defeats the ‘fun’ of the Batmobile, however they were both surprised and worried when Robin and Spoiler didn’t say anything except confirm the order.

Black Bat picked up her pace to where their bikes were all located. She got on her bike as Oracle commented in her ear. “I see you’re taking your bike home; I’ll have the other two follow you back, alright?”

“Yes.” Black Bat nodded before she started that motorbike and started drifting towards the cave.

With that Black Bat tore into the street, the blinding lights of traffic surround her in streaks of red and yellow as she shifted between lanes, in her side mirror she could see Spoiler and Robin’s motorbikes right behind her, shifting in between their own lanes.

Black Bat spun her wheel before her hand tightened around the brakes in a strength that could cut of the air supply of a grown man. The wheels of her motorbike shrieked as she drifted around a corner, smoke coming up behind her before she continued along different highways and roads.

Their wheels were replaced once a week so she along with Signal and Hood liked to burn them down to brittle and bone whenever they could. It was why on Hood’s day in the Batmobile you would see the left over marks of a donut around roundabouts.

Eventually she saw the familiar dirt track road that lead to the cave ahead of her, she saw the small red glow of a camera hidden at the front of the waterfall before the heavy wall full of rock and gravel started to open up, the water being swiftly pushed aside in running waves of clear blue.

She blasted into the cave entrance, barely slowing down as the wind was thrusted against her, the lights of the runway that had been drilled into the wall light up around her, she saw the glow of the computer getting closer, her hand didn’t let go of the accelerator until suddenly, she’s turning the handle into its side, making the winds spin and the motorbike glide close towards the ground.

She could hear the wheels shriek against the onslaught of rubble before it suddenly stopped, Black Bat put her foot down, holding the side of the motorbike up as her ruined wheels stood proudly on display.

She got her wheels changed every three days.

“Hello, Black Bat.” Karen said as she took off her helmet.

Tim’s eye twitched lightly at the sound of her voice, hand clenching for a second before it relaxed against the table.

Everyone was still getting used to the AI that had taken it upon itself to chill among all their electronics and devices. Cassandra herself felt she was on neutral terms with the AI, it wasn’t as if they were fighting like rabid dogs, but they weren’t completely friendly. Steph and Dick have basically already accepted her as part of the family.

Steph actually wore the watch with Karen out to the local shopping mall with Cass, while in the changing room Steph kept asking Karen which outfits were ‘in style.’

Karen had informed Steph of many fashions and styles that were currently trending, Steph had brought most of it along with the most hideous dress that Cass had ever seen. It was a neon orange coat that looked like a kids’ tutu being layered, going from her shoulders to her mid-thigh.

Even after Steph had found out that Karen was messing with her, she still loves it.

With Dick after Karen had saved him, he had been pretty open to her presence. After she helped him track down and absolutely destroy a whole trafficking ring within four days, he had claimed Karen as his ‘BRF’ Best Robot Friend.

Jason couldn’t care less for the AI, and Tim and Duke both held more of a curiosity towards Karen.

She felt slightly paranoid around Karen, there is only so much you can read from the change of tone of a voice and the fact it is artificial doesn’t help.

All Cass relies on is the words that the AI delicately picks out in every sentence.

‘Hello Karen.’

Cass signed back to the AI, she was surprised when the AI first responded to her sign language, it had made her avoid the cave cameras for days but eventually she came around to responding to basic conversations.

However, Bruce, Damian and Barbara dislike Karen with a passion. A pure hatred of the unexplainable.

Both Tim and Barbara had a crack at Karen’s code, but it became clear that Karen was completely in control on what she was letting them break into.

It became clear to them the moment Tim thought he had a breakthrough, it wasn’t, instead it was just a bunch of cat videos with nursery rhymes being played on background on repeat.

“How was your patrol?” Karen asked.

Cass tilted her head to the side in thought before shrugging.

That was as far as their conversation went.

Meanwhile Tim turned towards her from the computer with a small smile. “Hello Cass.” He greeted.

Cass smiled back before signing. ‘Hello Tim. Brother.’

Tim grinned, “Anything interesting happen?” Cass nodded in response, however before she could sign anything the Batmobile swerved into the cave and out hopped Bruce, Steph and Damian.

Steph was clutching her hand while biting her lip, her eyebrows were drawn tight together in complete distress. Her hand was wrapped in a non-stick bandage.

Damian immediately drifted in the opposite direction towards the contamination cells in a haste, one of his hands clenched tightly.

Bruce followed Steph towards the medical cots where Alfred was already waiting, he had a comforting hand on Steph’s back as he guided her to one of the beds. Cass and Tim followed in a hurry, treading behind them.

Steph held her hand out towards Alfred with a grimace, she was completely quiet as her hand tremored in the butler’s gently hold.

“Third degree burns.” Bruce started, voice a low gravel, showing how dire the situation is. “Current Pain level, three out of ten. I already cleaned and debride the wound; nothing has been applied.”

Cass and Tim couldn’t see the burn due to Bruce covering Steph from view, however from the shaky sigh Alfred let out and the gag that escaped Steph it didn’t seem well. Cass flinched when the putrid smell of burnt flesh surrounded the area before she went to go forward, however Bruce turned and shook his head.

“Out, both of you.” He ordered as he stalked towards the sink that sat in the medical bay, Cass watched as he took off both his gloves before washing his hands.

Cass clenched her jaw and went to step towards Steph again, but Bruce spoke up, not even looking in her direction. “Cassandra, I am serious. You and Tim need to leave now.”

“But we can help!” Tim demanded, his hands flying around.

Bruce sent the teen a withering glare. “Do not make me repeat myself, I did not teach you how to handle burns this severe.”

Cass linked her fingers together, a nervous habit she had picked up over the years, only ever doing it around people she trusts. She suddenly lifted her hand and placed it on Tim’s seething shoulder.

“Master Timothy, please call Dr. Thompkins.” Alfred said as he started to treat the outside of the wound.

Bruce set up one of the IV’s, reaching out to Steph’s other arm to carefully prick the needle into her vein. “Cass,” he started, “Help Damian.”

With that both Alfred and Bruce continued to move around each other in only a way old comrades could, never bumping into each other and perfectly in sync.

Cass hesitated before Tim grabbed her wrist with a final glower as he dragged her away from the Med Bay.