Chapter Text
When Peter awoke again, the light that was outside the boarded up windows was now gone, replaced by the faint glow of moonlight.
He sat up a bit more, popping his sore neck from the way that he had slept.
Glancing down, Loki was still curled up in his lap, quietly snoring. Peter almost didn’t want to move the cat, not wanting to wake him from his peaceful slumber.
But, Peter needed to get up and move. Thoughts from yesterday were drifting back into his mind. He needed to do something to keep those thoughts out of his head. For just a little bit longer.
When Peter had bad thoughts that he’d needed to get out of his head back in New York, he’d usually go out as Spider-Man. But Spider-Man doesn’t exist in Gotham. So Peter will do the next closest thing.
He gently picks up the sleeping cat off of his lap, standing up and moving over to a table where he carefully sets him down, so as not to wake him.
He then goes over to his backpack and pulls out a hoodie, heading back over to Loki and carefully wrapping the hoodie around him.
Once satisfied, Peter heads back over and crouches down by his bag, digging to the bottom and pulling out the Robin suit.
Spider-Man doesn’t exist in Gotham. But Robin does.
Peter quickly gets changed, slipping his new coat back on, putting on his gloves, earmuffs, and bundling into his many scarves, then tucks his bag back away into the corner. He whispers a quiet goodbye to the sleeping cat before heading out the side door and into the alley.
He heads up the fire escape, onto the rooftop, and pauses to just listen.
Gotham is alive with noise, gunshots ringing through the air, people shouting, whooshing of grappling hooks.
If the bats and birds are out and about, it can’t be too late. Peter had noticed that they tend to stick to a schedule, only coming out at certain times, with only a few outliers. (Like Black Bat just a few hours ago.)
Peter wants to try his best to avoid the bats and birds tonight if he can, but he’s starting to find that unlikely.
Since arriving in Gotham, he hasn’t had near enough food to eat to keep up with his enhanced metabolism, and as a result, he was slowing down, his hearing doesn’t reach quite as far, and his powers weren’t as quick to notify him when someone was watching him or danger was coming his way.
Is it the best idea to go out knowing this? Probably not. But, when has that ever stopped Peter? He’s fought under worse circumstances and beat the odds every time.
Like when Tony took his suit, and The Vulture dropped that building on him. Peter had learned that maybe he didn’t need the suit that night.
Or any of the times that he’s fought with The Sinister Six. Those guys will wear you down, and not care if you’re not capable of continuing fighting. Peter learned quickly to power through.
Peter takes in a deep breath, ignoring the pit that formed in his stomach from thinking about home, before standing up and taking a running jump to the building next to him.
He listens to the city as he runs, keeping an eye on the streets and the alleyways below him.
He might not be able to avoid running into a bat before the night's over, but he can prolong it by picking up right where he left off in New York. Sticking up for the little guy.
Vigilantes and heroes tend to go after the big bads, but Peter’s philosophy is that the little guy matters just as much, and Peter is perfectly happy to be the one to look out for them.
A sudden child-like cry has Peter skidding to a stop, having to right himself so he doesn’t go tumbling right over the edge of the roof.
He scans the street below him, looking for any signs of where the scream might’ve come from.
On the opposite side of the street from the building he’s on is a quaint little park. A slide sits at the edge, next to it, a rusted looking sea-saw. A swing set sits in about the middle of the park, with a tree on the right of it.
Right below the tree, a young girl, younger than Peter is right now, is sobbing while making grabbing hands up towards the tree. Next to the girl is what appears to be her mother, or maybe an older sister, knelt down and looking disheveled and trying to plead with the girl.
Peter glances up towards the tree branches, trying to make out what could possibly make the girl upset, before his eyes lock onto a calico cat whose claws are latched into the bark of the branch it sits upon, a slight shake to its body.
Peter sighed. Of course it was a cat stuck in a tree.
Don’t get him wrong! He loves cats! Loki is enough proof of that. But, he and cats that are stuck in trees while he’s on patrol have never gotten along.
Peter carefully descends the building, then heads over to the duo, making sure his steps are heard. He doesn’t want to sneak up on them and startle them.
The older woman notices him first, her head snapping to him at breakneck speed, an almost deranged look in her eyes as she subtly maneuvers herself so she’s blocking the young girl from view.
“Who the f-“ the woman starts, before thinking better of it and rephrasing what she was going to say. “Who are you.” Her eyes are sharp, cataloguing every inch of Peter.
Now that he’s up close, he can see that the woman is about nineteen or twenty years old, the young girl being about seven or eight. So, she’s either an older sister, or possibly a babysitter.
“I’m Robin,” Peter says. When the woman squints her eyes at that, he remembers that there is another Robin, one that came first and is more well known than Peter. (Which is understandable, as Peter’s only gone out in the bright colors in Gotham's streets a few times.)
“Not the Robin that you guys are used to. A new one. I’m still kind of new,” he lets off a nervous chuckle, knowing that he’s not new to being a vigilante, but being Robin.
“Where’s Batman? Ain’t he suppos’ ta keep ya Robins on a leash?” The woman asks, standing up a bit straighter, her eyes still on Peter, but slowly losing the deranged look to them.
“I’m not Batman’s Robin,” he answers easily. Because he’s not. Peter’s no one’s sidekick. But that sounds kind of bad on its own, so he follows it up with, “Batman still has a Robin. The one with a sword? I’m by myself cause I just take care of the small stuff.”
The woman appears to consider that, before letting out a soft snort that she attempts to hide behind her hand. “Small stuff such as helping my twerp kid sister's idiot cat out of a tree?” She leans an elbow on the young girl's head, using her free hand to haphazardly gesture to the tree behind them.
The young girl knocks the woman’s arm off her head, puffing out her cheeks and crossing her arms. “Sir Snickerdoodle Von Wiggles the Third is not an idiot!” She declares with a huff of breath, stomping her foot to accentuate her point.
It takes everything in Peter to not burst out laughing at the cat's name. He’s heard weird pet names since taking up this job, but this one might take the cake.
“Saving Sir Snickerdoodle Von Wiggles the Third is exactly the kind of stuff that I do,” he says, giving a smile to the young girl.
Hope fills her eyes as she looks up to her older sister, reaching out and gripping onto her elbow, dangling off of the ground slightly. “Please, please let him save Sir Snickerdoodle Von Wiggles the Third! C’mon Bailey, pleaseee.”
The older girl, Bailey, scoffs, gently shaking her arm, but Peter can see the fond look on her face. “Get off me, ya gremlin,” she mumbles, glancing over to Peter and giving him a look as if to say, kids, am I right? Then turns her attention back to the young girl still clinging tightly to her elbow. She kneels back down, the young girl's feet hitting the floor again.
“Of course, Elysia. I was gonna ask the kid for help anyway,” Bailey states, a smile on her face. Her eyes flick to Peter, then back to Elysia. Her eyes flash to something mischievous. “Once he rescues your cat, that demon in disguise is going on a leash.”
“Sir Snickerdoodle Von Wiggles the Third,” Elysia huffs. “And he’s a free cat. You can’t keep him chained.”
“Whatever ya say, twerp,” Bailey replies, flicking Elysia’s forehead. At her squawk, Bailey ruffles her messy black hair then stands up, turning to face Peter. “Let’s see what ya got, kid.”
Peter gave Bailey a small smile, then made his way over to the tree.
Climbing trees as Spider-Man was easy, but he wasn’t Spider-Man right now, so Peter was careful about choosing where to put his hands or feet.
Sir Snickerdoodle Von Wiggles the Third, (Peter decides to call him Snickers just to be easier) was on one of the higher branches, his eyes locked onto Peter and tracking his movements up the tree.
His shaking has stopped, and Peter’s not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. He’s hoping it’s good. He doesn’t want to have scars to have to explain their origins.
When he gets up by Snickers, he sits down on a branch right by the cat, preparing to coax it.
“Hey there, Snicker, can I call ya Snickers?” He asks, holding up his hands to the cat.
The cat doesn’t answer him.. because it’s a cat.
But no matter. Peter doesn’t expect an answer back.
“You ready to come down now? You’re girl, Elysia, is really worried about you,” he says, his hands slowly inching toward the cat.
When he’s literally centimeters away, and Snickers hasn’t attacked him yet, Peter takes that for what it is and carefully places his hands on the cat.
Snickers gladly jumps the rest of the way into Peter’s arms, and Peter lets out a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
With Snickers now safely tucked under his arm, Peter uses his free hand to carefully traverse back down the tree, so as not to re-startle the cat.
When his feet are on solid ground, Elysia is right there, looking up at him with emerald green eyes full of excitement and wonder. Bailey following not too far behind, a small smile on her lips.
“You saved him! Sir Snickerdoodle Von Wiggles the Third, you’re safe,” Elysia exclaims, reaching out for the cat.
Peter passes the cat off to the young girl, smiling as she rubs her face along his fur.
“Thank you, Robin, we owe ya one,” Bailey says, resting a hand on Elysia’s shoulder.
Elysia’s head snaps up at the sentence, her eyes locking onto Peter. “I usually have candy on me, but it’s late and I got hungry. The next time we see each other, I’ll be sure to give you a piece,” she says seriously.
Peter smiles at her. “Thank you, I appreciate it. I’m glad Sir Snickerdoodle Von Wiggles the Third is okay,” Peter replies.
Elysia gives him a beaming smile that stretches across her face, her eyes crinkling with it. “Me too!”
“Do you two need help getting home?” Peter asks, subtly glancing around at the shadowy streets around them.
“Nah,” Bailey replies, her hand that was on Elysia’s shoulder slipping down to her back. “We live in that apartment over there,” she nods to a building to the left of them. “Lysia left the door open earlier after Ma and Pa told her to close it, so Von Wiggles took off at the first sign of freedom. I’ve been beggin’ her to let me put the thing on a leash, but the kid won’t budge.”
Bailey shrugs, smiling down at Elysia, who looks like she hadn’t heard a single word that was said, scratching behind Snickers ears.
“All right, I’ll leave you ladies to it,” Peter says, tipping a fake fedora before disappearing into the shadows, smiling at the giggles that come behind him.
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Peter had stopped a few minor crimes here or there, it now being well into the night.
He now finds himself perched across from a BatBurger, wondering if the five dollar bill that he has stuffed in one of the pockets of his cargo pants would be enough to get him anything.
Kids meals are supposed to be cheap.. right? It sucks that he didn’t get a good enough look at the menu when he was there last time with Jason, Cass, and Damian to know the price for sure.
Watching!! Close! Friend!
Peter willed his body not to react to the sudden voice, followed by near silent feet that landed behind him. Instead, he slowly stood up, and relaxed his body, turning in the direction of the fire escape as if that was his intention.
Hidden partially in the shadows was a man wearing a skin tight black suit, a blue bird on his chest, stretching out all the way to his fingertips.
The part of the roof Peter is on is obscured by shadows, a purposeful move on his part, so the man that Peter realizes is Nightwing tilts his head in an attempt to get a better look at Peter.
“You must be the new Robin I’ve heard so much about,” Nightwing says, his voice sounding strangely familiar in an aching way to Peter.
Peter doesn’t give the man a response, just cataloging his possible exits.
When Nightwing realizes he won’t be getting a response, he takes a slow step toward the center of the roof, and Peter’s breath catches in his throat.
Even with the domino mask securely on Nightwing’s face, Peter knows that face. He longed for that face to return home for years, ever since he was four years old.
A choked, barely audible whisper escapes Peter’s lips before he has the chance to stop it. “Dad..?”
And by the way Nightwing’s entire body freezes, his own breath catching in his throat, he had heard Peter.