Chapter Text
The walls closed behind Peter, enveloping him in darkness. Even so, he could still see, but it was different than normal. Better.
His enhanced eyesight had always helped him see in the dark, letting him navigate the streets at night, but this, he could see near perfectly. His eyes felt strange, they felt… thinner? in a way. And he could see almost as well as he could in daylight, there was an obscurity to everything, a slight unfocus because of the dark, but he could still see far better than he’d been able to before.
First fangs, now this. Was he becoming more spider-like? Would he even be human by the time he finished mutating again? Because that’s what had to be happening, that green pool he’d been dunked in had done something to him. Triggered more changes. He was mutating more.
He could only hope he remained more human than spider.
He didn’t want to think about how much more different he was becoming, so he walked into the elevator. The doors automatically shut behind him and his sixth sense immediately quietened.
The pounding at the back of his skull stopped, his body untensing as he got further away from the danger he had been in. Further from the toxicity he’d been drenched in.
The elevator continued its descent, the noises of the world above getting more and more muffled the further down Peter got. It didn’t take long before the elevator shuddered to a stop, the doors opening to reveal a large expanse of empty space.
Peter stepped into the large tunnel, looking left, then right and finding that it extends both ways. He could see that on either side the tunnel split off in further directions, likely a maze of different passages.
At least he was safer down here than he was up there.
Curiosity filled him as he looked around him, where on earth had that elevator taken him? And why did this place even exist?
At first, he’d thought it could have been sewers, but it was lacking water and the accompanying stench. This was different, it seemed like large tunnels underground. But what were they for?
He decided there was no harm in finding out, his sixth sense remaining quiet as he walked through the large tunnel. He kept close to the wall just in case someone or something came by.
He reached the crossroad in the tunnels and his sixth sense nudged him to the left, his feet stumbling forwards. Peter kept on that path, continuing deeper and deeper into the tunnels.
It was clear this was something important, or led there anyway. The security that had been installed to keep people out was very high tech, indicating a high profile client.
He could only hope it didn’t land him in more trouble.
Further and further through the tunnels Peter walked, letting his sixth sense nudge him into the right direction. He was eternally grateful for the change in said sense, how it was doing more than just screaming at him to move.
The tunnels were surprisingly clean, they weren’t pristine by any means, but they were a far cry nicer than he expected underground tunnels to be. Definitely better than the subway tunnels anyway.
It was nice to wander through the labyrinth of tunnels, the space exceedingly quiet. There was no noise but the light shuffling of his jacket as he walked. He let his mind drift, his body going through the movements mindlessly as his sixth sense kept him on track.
To where, he still didn’t know.
After a while, his sixth sense picked up, becoming a light tingle at the back of his mind. It was warning him to keep his wits about him, to keep himself hidden. Wherever he was going, whoever was there wasn’t necessarily a threat, but they weren’t to be trifled with either.
So, Peter crawled up the wall and onto the ceiling of the tunnel. He kept the hood of the jacket on, if he was caught on the ceiling he’d rather not have anyone recognise him.
He slinked through the tunnel, opening his ears to the sounds coming from further down. The faint click of keys reached him, the familiar buzz of electricity accompanying it. There were low voices talking, but they were too far that Peter couldn’t quite make out the words.
Suddenly, a deep rumble started up, the tunnel vibrating with the noise. Peter frowned, plastering himself closer to the ceiling, peeking at the ground below him. The sound got louder and louder, Peter’s body shaking as he clung to the concrete.
There was a bright light that came from around the corner of the tunnel and then a large black car was speeding past Peter. He blinked at the vehicle, it was long and sleek, the engine loud in the confined space.
Peter spun his head around to look as the vehicle flew past, noting the wing like features on the back. Bat wings.
Shit.
Had Peter accidentally stumbled into Batman’s base? Had Batman been driving the car? Had Batman seen him?
No. If he had, Peter wouldn’t be clinging to the ceiling right now, he’d be running from Batman. So, the hero hadn’t seen him. His sixth sense seemed to agree with his words, warming the base of his neck.
Peter slumped from his spot on the ceiling, dropping carefully to the ground and letting some of the tension leave his body. Batman hadn’t seen him. He was still safe.
He probably should have turned tail and left, going back to suffer through the cold and the rain, but, when had Peter ever done something he should have? Instead, he continued through the tunnel, turning the corner that the car had come from and holy shit!
The tunnel opened out to a massive cave, there was a path that led to a station of sorts, clearly where the car that had just left had been. Beyond that was incredible, and was the a fucking dinosaur?
Peter was overwhelmed as he took in the cave, it stretched higher and higher, massive pillars keeping the cave from collapsing. There was a huge coin alongside the green dinosaur. It seemed electronic if Peter’s ears were right.
Spinning around, Peter took in the entire cave, the sound of bats sleeping above finding him. There was a massive playing card, a manic grin plastered on the face of The Joker. It was unsettling to say the least.
Peter was quick to look away and his eyes landed on a massive computer, with what had to be 5 different screens. There was someone sitting there, fingers clicking on the keys as they worked.
Peter slipped into the shadows, quick to conceal himself from anyone’s view. He took a closer look at the person on the computer, they wore a red and black suit a black cape flowing behind them.
Red Robin.
That’s who sat at the computer. A younger vigilante, probably around Peter’s age if he had to guess. Their fingers flew over the keys, their voice reaching Peter.
“Central Gotham B, Clayface is there, Wing’s on his way,” the vigilante was saying.
Peter was too far away to hear the reply, but figured it was words of understanding if the small nod Red Robin gave was anything to go by. He was about to sneak closer when the shuffle of his jacket warned him against it.
Frozen, Peter stared at the vigilante, heart pounding at the thought of being caught. Red Robin, however, hadn’t seemed to have heard, their focus still on the screens as he spoke through the comm system he had in.
Peter let out a soft sigh of relief, carefully extracting himself from the jacket before creeping closer. He kept his movement silent and precise, using the number of things littered around the cave as cover.
Once he was close enough he noted the map on one of the screens, a number of red dots moving through the city - likely Batman and the other vigilantes out that night.
Red Robin continued directing Batman and Nightwing to the right area, keeping them updated with information on Clayface. Aside from the two male voices belonging to Batman and Nightwing, there was another voice, this one a higher pitch compared to the others.
Barbara’s voice.
Just how close was the woman to these vigilantes? He knew that she’d been in contact with Nightwing, but to find out she was on their comm line, that was something else entirely.
Did she know who they were beneath the masks?
Even if she did it wasn’t any of his business, not really. Respect another vigilantes identity and all, he’d hate it if they went looking for his identity. Not that he was Spider-man. Yet.
So, he decided he wouldn’t pry into who they were, he’d leave them alone. Even if it would make it easier to avoid them as his civilian form so they couldn’t discover him as a meta, they didn’t deserve that.
That didn’t mean he wouldn’t stay for now, he was more than a little curious as to the inner workings of the Bat vigilantes. Bat-colony? Bat-clan? Whatever they called themselves, he wanted to see how it differed from the Avengers.
Though Peter worked solo, only teaming up with Daredevil or Deadpool when necessary, he had on occasion helped the Avengers with larger threats and had been connected to their comm system.
It had been a loud, bickering experience, but also one filled with understanding and respect. They understood each other and were able to work effectively, even if they disagreed at times.
Perhaps a part of him hoped that they would be similar, that he could find a small part of home in the way these vigilantes interacted. Maybe he just wanted to torture himself more.
Peter was close enough now that he could clearly hear the people on the other side of the comm, and with only a slight amount of guilt, listened in.
“...Nightwing,” A deep voice said, the words sounded cold in a way. Like Bucky’s did when they were taking down a Hydra base.
“Yeah, Yeah, B. I’m on my way,” another voice sighed, and that was Nightwing. Peter recognised the lilt in it, the exasperation that was clear as he spoke. Like Tony’s when someone (mainly Peter) did something he would classify as ‘stupidly self sacrificial’.
“You know, if you’d just let me-” Red Robin started only to be cut off by Batman,
“No, you’re still recovering,” the words practically a growl, “You’re not going out on patrol for another week,”
“But B,” Red Robin whined, sounding so much like a teenager it forced Peter to pause for a moment. Is that what he sounded like when Tony grounded him from patrol? It was so… innocent.
The words sound wrong coming from a vigilante, coming from someone who risks their life night after night to protect others.
But the vigilante was a minor after all, couldn’t have been much older than him and god that hurt. Peter knew first hand what it was to start vigilante work young but was this how others saw him when he was out fighting crime?
Had they seen someone too young with too much on their shoulders?
Red Robin deserved to be a teenager, to be angsty and rude and deal with dating problems. Did he deserve that as well?
It didn’t matter he supposed, the universe had dealt him a shit hand that he had to run with. He’d made it work and he would never regret being Spider-man, wouldn’t regret all the people he’d saved.
Even if it was at the expense of his childhood. His innocence.
He was a small price to pay for the lives of many.
“...bed now,” Batman was saying as Peter turned back into the conversation.
“But I can help. I’m not tired, I can still-,” once more Red Robin was cut off.
“No. That’s final,” Batman said, “Go to bed, you have school starting soon,”
And god did that sound like Tony when he was grilling into Peter for staying out late on patrol. He’d wanted this, he reminded himself at the sharp twinge in his chest, wanted to hear the similarities between these vigilantes and the heroes from back home. Even if it hurt.
“Fine,” Red Robin huffed, before getting up and walking away, a slight limp in his step. He had a leg wound, that’s why Batman wasn’t letting him patrol. Good, Peter thought, the vigilante needs to rest if he wasn’t to heal properly.
School. Peter also had school soon, did Red Robin go to Gotham Prep? Was he in his year? No, it doesn’t matter, Peter scolded himself, he wasn't going to pry into the personal lives of vigilantes.
Peter watched as Red Robin walked through the cave and past a series of cases, vigilante suits on display. There was the one for Spoiler, Batgirl, and Robin from what he could see.
The suits were well crafted from what Peter could see. He intended to take a closer look, however, Red Robin had turned into a room and was likely getting changed back to his civilian clothes.
Not wanting to intrude and discover the vigilante’s identity, Peter turned and scurried back to the coat he’d taken off. He had no idea what the time was, but he could still hear the faint pattering of rain from above, so he knew better than to go back to the fire station.
Instead, Peter shrugged the coat back on before scaling the wall. He climbed further and further up into a dark crevice of the ceiling. Careful not to disturb the bats, Peter instinctively went to shoot out a web, forgetting that he didn’t have his web shooter.
Only, a faint splat met Peter’s ears and he looked down to find a thin web extending from his wrist. A small lump sat on his wrist now, blood slowly oozing from where his web extended.
Shit.